As the day neared night, I couldn’t wait to remove my heels. Again, heels were required for our uniform and today, I had fully suffered with them.
I was helping out in the dining hall when one of the waiters tapped my shoulder.
“Juliette Monroe?” His brows creased as he looked down at me.
I placed a pile of plates on the steel kitchen counter and faced him. “Yes?”
“You’re requested in the right wing,” he said. “To bring more whiskey.”
I frowned. “But only men are allowed back there.”
As much as Mrs. Hawthorne had updated the country club to be a family resort, it still held firm traditions and belief that there should be a place no women were allowed. It was an out-dated tradition, but it was one I didn’t feel comfortable breaking. Not if it got me on Mrs. Hawthorne’s bad side.
He shrugged and walked by me, returning to his task.
I bit my bottom lip, staring at the clean, white tiles beneath my feet. If I didn’t go, whoever sent for me would be pissed.
I straightened, fixing my pencil skirt and found another bottle of whiskey stored in the storage room.
I left the kitchen, a heavy weight on my chest and the farther I walked down the elegant halls, the heavier the weight became. The grandness of the country club dwarfed every house I had ever lived in and coming from the foster care system, I lived in plenty.
Some decent, some crawling with lice and mold.
I lived through it though and that chaotic lifestyle had formed my determination to work hard for a better life.
My heels clapped against the ancient marble floors and I held my head high. Only a simple break existed between the rest of the country club and the men’s wing. Two dark wood doors, carvings of vines and peonies in its surface.
With one deep breath, I passed through. Into a world of men and power and politics and history. Presidents had strolled through these halls, discussing the prohibition or World War II or even as far back as Teddy Roosevelt. Since the 1890s, this had been a place of change and revolution and enlightenment.
And I was inside of it.
It was nothing short of thrilling.
Several rooms lined the hallway, but each door was open and the rooms empty. Portraits of men lined the walls, men of importance that had been a part of the club’s history.
And they all seemed to be watching me closely.
It felt the same way when I first had my tour at Yale. So much power and legend existed there and here.
When I saw a door was shut and light shone from underneath, I stepped closer.
I tapped my knuckles once against the door.
“Come in,” a voice said.
I swallowed, fixing my blouse and turned the knob.
I had expected to see at least two or three men in the room.
Instead, I only saw him.
My pulse spiked, my hand still holding on firmly to the doorknob, as if ready to slam it back shut.
Nathaniel sat in a leather chair, one powerful leg crossed over the other, his chin resting in his palm, fingers framing his smiling mouth.
“You requested whiskey,” I said, trying my best to keep my voice even, but I heard it. I heard the hiss sneak through my words and I clenched my jaw tighter as he smirked.
“I requested Juliette Monroe,” he said, his forefinger moving with the shift of his lips. “And whiskey.”
“I could get fired if someone finds me back here,” I snapped, gesturing around the room. So masculine in leather and dark oak wood and portraits of more powerful men glaring down at me. The office was paneled in Cherrywood and lined on one side with long, rectangular stained glass windows. So elegant, so refined and timeless.
“Why are you working here, Juliette?” he asked and by the gleam in his dark eyes it was clear he knew the answer, but he wanted me to say it.
I ground my teeth and shifted the weight onto my other leg. There was no point in lying, I’d only look like a fool. “Because I need the money to stay at Yale.”
He arched a brow. “Rumor was, you had a large trust fund at your expense.”
I cringed at that. I hadn’t started the rumor, but I hadn’t corrected anyone. People thought I was rich and had family in the south of France. I couldn’t bear to tell the entire campus of Yale that it was all a lie.
That I was a girl from Pennsylvania who had been shipped to different foster homes after my mother was killed in a car crash and didn’t have a penny to her name.
“Rumor was…incorrect,” I whispered, but I didn’t lower my head. No, I stared right back at him.
I wouldn’t let him intimidate me.
He hummed at that and uncrossed his legs. “I’ll negotiate with you.”
I lifted a brow. “About what?”
He stayed perfectly still and silent, staring back at me. Unlike most people, Nathaniel liked silence. He enjoyed watching people squirm. “About my silence. That no man or woman at Yale will know what you’re hiding.”
The bastard knew exactly where to strike. My chest pounded and I licked my lips. Biting back harsh words, I asked, “In exchange for what?”
That earned the corner of his mouth quirking. “I know you hate me. I can feel it from a mile away.”
I dug my nails into my palm. “Maybe if you weren’t such an ass, Nathaniel—”
“We’re both competitive,” he said, cutting me off. “We hold the highest marks at Yale,” he said, reaching for his drink on a nearby table. He let the ice cubes hit the glass, the sound filling the dimly lit room. “We both want to conquer. We both want to achieve the careers we desire and we’ll stop at nothing to achieve every single one of our goals.”
My throat felt too tight as I watched him, a man, speaking so calmly, so delicately, but stirring an impatient passion inside of me. That was the thing with Nathaniel. I thought I knew him, how he enraged me and then he brought out another, hidden emotion.
Lust.
Want.
Hope.
Him speaking of success and conquering and achieving my dreams sent a shiver down my spine.
He was speaking a language I knew all too well.
“I think for us both to benefit in our futures,” he continued, taking a gulp of whiskey, the ice crashing together and placed it back on the table. His ocean eyes drank me in and I thought perhaps, just staring back at Nathaniel, I could get drunk off of him. “We need to rid ourselves of distractions.”
Silence engulfed us and I gawked at him.
I went to open my mouth, but I closed it and wrinkled my brows. “And how, exactly, do you expect to do that?” I asked, skeptic.
Again, my voice shook, ever so slightly, but he caught it and like a lion catching its prey, he dug his teeth in. “By letting me conquer you, Juliette.”
I let out a dry laugh at that. “Conquer me?” I spluttered, jabbing a finger to my chest. “You are not conquering me, Nathaniel. This is the twenty-first century, and I’m no damsel in need of conquering.”
“I am aware of what century it is, Juliette,” he said evenly and stood. By that simple move, I felt tiny, delicate.
He was well over six-foot-four and the way he filled out his suit jacket and pants should have been a crime in itself.
He moved gracefully toward me, shattering what little concentration I had.
“I am also aware of the tension between us,” he whispered, tilting his head to the side as he scanned my reddening features. “It’s destructive, to say the least. It affects my focus because you’re very, very distracting. And I don’t do distractions, sweetheart.”
I shook my head at him. “If you’re going to blame all women for distracting you, Nathaniel, you’re in for a rude awakening.”
“Women don’t distract me.” He moved closer and we only had a tiny space between us. I could feel the heat from his large body and my knees shook. “You distract me, Juliette, and I need to remedy that as soon as possible.”
“And you think indulging in each other will help?”
He cocked a ruthless brow. “I thought you were just as determined to succeed. The longer we deny this tension between us, the more unfocused we will be. And that will affect both our academic performance. Do you wish to graduate Yale and have no offers? To be nothing of importance after?”
I clenched my teeth. “As if your grades would really affect your success,” I said out of spite. I could have sworn hurt flashed in his gaze for just a fraction of a second. I ignored it. Being distracted wouldn’t affect his future in the least, but it would affect mine. I didn’t want that. It was my absolute fear that I would lose everything. That I wouldn’t be good enough.
And I needed to be the best.
“Plus, you’re full of yourself to assume you distract me in any way, Nathaniel,” I added, staring him straight in the eyes. “You don’t distract me.”
I lifted my chin, back as straight as a board, trying in vain to even our heights.
His full mouth twitched and his eyes gleamed and he stepped forward, destroying any space between us.
My breath hitched and I swallowed any shock and glared back at his mocking gaze.
His fingers picked up a fallen dark strand and smoothed the curl on the pads of his fingers. “You play with your hair in class. Untying it from that tight ponytail and letting it fall down your back.” His fingers moved to the elastic band holding my hair back and I gulped as he slid it down, letting my hair fall across my shoulders. A shiver ran down my chest, my nipples hardening. I fought to keep his warlike gaze. He wanted to destroy me, he wanted me to fall and cave-like savages were seizing an empire.
“And then you run your fingers through it,” he said, brushing my dark hair back, his fingers scraping my scalp, the sensation stirring the heat growing in my lower stomach. “These dark sable strands. So tempting, so arousing. I imagined how silky your hair would feel in my hands.” His hand curled around my hair and gripped it. He leaned forward and I turned my head, but not before I realized too late I had exposed my neck to the enemy.
His mouth fanned across the skin of my neck and when his lips pressed down, I gasped, my pulse beating like a drum under his mouth and I knew he felt it.
He groaned deep in his throat and moved his lips farther up until they touched my earlobe. And then his hand still curled in my hair, yanked the strands back gently. A warning. “Would you fight me the whole way through if we fucked? Even when I’m deep inside of your pussy, owning, possessing you? My cock swelling, leaking inside of you? Would you fight me for making you come even then?”
I bit my lip but the moan inside of my throat escaped and when his teeth scraped along my earlobe, tugging, nipping, I gripped his shoulder and shoved him back.
I panted, glaring at him as he grinned, rolling his shoulders back. “Distracted, sweetheart?”
I went to open my mind and deny his words, but he was faster than me.
“Don’t deny it, sweetheart, I bet your pussy is wet for me as we speak.” At my silence, a smirk curled his lips upward. “It is, isn’t it?”
I gritted my teeth, my skin flushed bright pink because of him. Because of his words, his body—his mere existence.
“Okay,” I whispered, meeting his eyes, hoping he felt the fire burning inside of me. His fingers touched the edge of my jaw and slowly, he traced up to my hairline. I felt him everywhere and I couldn’t stop the trembling beginning in my limbs. He’d keep my secret and we’d rid ourselves of what was between us.
“Until the end of summer, you’re mine,” he muttered and his head dipped, but his lips lingered on mine. “Swear it to me, Juliette.”
I swallowed thickly, my lips bumping against his own. “I swear.”
“Swear what, Juliette? I want to hear you say it.”
Asshole. “I swear I’m yours until the end of summer.”
And then like a savage, he took my mouth in a bruising kiss.
One of urgency and need and elegance.
I didn’t back down though. I kissed him back, my tongue battling his, my teeth nipping at that bottom lip I had fantasized about during our UN Model debates.
He groaned at the back of his throat when I dug my nails into his broad shoulders, anchoring me to him and he fought back by gripping my hips.
When he pressed me to him, I felt his hardening length in his slacks.
He let my mouth go and just as I was about to protest, his lips found my jaw and traveled down my throat. He took his time, kissing me in places that no man in my past had given so much attention to.
He pressed me against the bookshelves, the wooden structure and binds of the books digging into my back.
“What if someone comes in?” I asked between a kiss.
He nipped at my neck. “That might happen. The boys should be returning shortly.”
“What?” I yanked at his jacket. “I need to go. I can’t be seen here alone with you.”
He straightened, glowering at me, but reached into his pocket and handed me a key. “Come to my suite tonight. Around midnight. Don’t be late.”
I stared at the golden key in my palm and looked back up at him. His lips were swollen and pink and his perfect hair a bit tousled. Those ocean eyes darkening the longer I stared back at him.
My chest clenched at the sight.
“Fine,” I bit out and turned, not looking back.
As I made it back to the kitchen, I paused at the sight of Gabe.
His hands were shoved into his pockets and he watched me. I couldn’t read the look he was giving me, but it made my breath hitch.
Slowly, he turned and went beyond the dark double doors, most likely to join Nathaniel.
I shook my head.
I had agreed to a summer affair with my boss’s son and biggest rival.
A deal with the enemy.