Bryn
At 7 p.m., I walk into the restaurant. He’s waiting at the entrance, dressed in black jeans and a black shirt, and he watches me as I step through the glass doors.
My mouth waters at his intense, unapologetic, possessive gaze.
“Hey,” I say.
He smiles as he leans forward and embraces me. “Glad you came.” His eyes shine as if he really is glad.
We’re led to our table, and Christos motions for me to follow the maître d'. He lets me slide inside the booth before he takes his seat next to me. Our shoulders connect.
“Hungry?” he asks.
“Yes. But we could have met somewhere less—”
He’s so close.
My thoughts scatter.
“Go on,” he says.
“Well, it’s just that I don’t want you to misinterpret what we have for anything other than business. It seemed imperative I see you, and I thought it best to personally tell you that I was out of line. I’m not interested in dating you, but I really appreciate what you’ve done for me…”
He raises his brow, watching me. His mouth. His face. He’s a complete sex god and once, long ago, he was interested in me. I close my eyes as I remember once, when he tried to kiss me. “Got it,” he says. “But you are here. And from now until the night is over, you’re with me. And I plan to enjoy you.”
“Okay, but don’t think you can change my mind about you.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t even try. I’m as bad as they say.”
His features are completely unreadable as he looks at me, giving me a slow, decadent smile.
Damn him. He looks so gorgeous. I don’t want to feel this compelled to act crazy, but he makes me lose all rationale.
I laugh and glance down at the menu, trying not to notice how my left side feels warmer than my right because he’s sitting next to me.
I won’t go there! I can’t help being attracted but I’m not some animal ruled by lust. I can control it. But I’m afraid how the urge to touch him—even if just playfully—keeps coming, how the stares won’t stop happening, how this craving inside me won’t cease.
“I could tell at the meeting you were upset with me. I didn’t like it,” he says.
“Not upset. It was just difficult to see you after last night.” I exhale, meeting his gaze. “I didn’t expect you to help me.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. It took me aback after weeks of not knowing. I got overwhelmed. I don’t want you to think I spent the night because you gave me the money, it just…reminded me of you. Years ago. Made feelings come up.”
“Seeing you on edge made feelings come up for me too.”
“Which feelings?”
“The ones I’m pretty sure I was clear about with my tongue.”
“And the rest?”
“It’s complicated.”
He shuts the menu, leaning forward.
“You’re not making things easy for me. I always know what I want. Unfuckingwavering. But then you come along.”
“And.”
“And you change everything.” He drags a hand down his face.
“Nothing changes, Christos. We’re still going to do business—and you can go on with your life as planned.”
“Can I? Really? Let me show you some food while you’re starving, but go ahead, keep starving.”
“Come on,” I laugh.
“Fourteen years starving to kiss you.”
My smile fades.
“Do you feel better now?” I whisper.
“I do. Hungrier. But a little better.” He eyes me. “There’s always been something about you.”
“Please. This is complicated enough as it is. I’m trying to focus on House of Sass. I need it to work, and I don’t want to fail you.”
“You won’t,” he says. “And you’re right. I want you focused.” His eyes trail over my features for three seconds too long, then he shakes his head and opens up his phone calendar to show me some notes.
“We need to look at locations for the physical store. Keep an eye out. I’m having my people send you a list of land and buildings I own. Maybe one of those will work.”
“Thank you, Christos.” I smile shyly. “I found a model in case we require some sort of advertising.”
I proceed to tell him about Sara as well as my hopes to maybe have a store more similar to a “showroom” than an actual department store. “People shop online more and more these days, so we can have a showroom warehouse, which can serve as an office space and storage space, to also sell the merchandise. We can also have the servers down in the basement much like you have in Christos and Co.”
He seems to like my suggestions, and although I’m glad to be talking about business, I can’t help but reach out and occasionally touch his shoulder as I talk, craving the contact.
The rest of the week I scout locations along with some of Christos’s employees, who drive me around town to show me possible sites for the House of Sass offices and headline store. I’m given an invitation from Christos and Co. to the opening of one of his newest real estate developments, a 70-story skyscraper apartment building near Columbus Circle. “Thank you, I’ll try to make it,” I tell her.
“Oh, you’d better. He personalized yours.” She winks, and I turn the invitation to once again see his handwriting with the message:
I expect my little bit to come. C
Whoa, my ovaries just exploded a little, and I’m not even sure he phrased it like that on purpose.
Naturally, I cannot stop looking at the invitation during the week, and Sara and I spend a whole two hours one evening speculating on whether—or not—the word “come” had a double meaning.
“I’m telling you he has a girlfriend,” I say.
Sara says, “Well, they’ve been mysteriously off the social pages for a while, and she appeared alone at an event last weekend.”
She pulls out an image of Miranda and her father at an event, no Christos.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” I say. “I’m still taking Jensen. I really don’t feel like seeing his blonde at his side, rubbing his chest, calling him darling,” I admit, feeling nauseous.
“You want to be the one doing it,” Sara jests.
“No!” I say.
“Really?” she taunts me.
I don’t know what to tell her—there’s no reason for me to be jealous over Christos. It’s not as if I truly believe I’m his type, well, at least not anymore, and I’ve lost too many loved ones to risk my heart—especially with the one guy I’ve always been afraid could have the power to crush it.
That evening, I take the subway with Jensen and then walk a few blocks to the event. “You look hot, woman. Relax.”
“Stop telling me to relax,” I whisper.
“Why?”
“Because it reminds me I’m nervous and I’m trying hard to pretend I’m not,” I hiss.
We walk into the black granite lobby to an orchestra playing classical music. There are round tables with pristine white linens and silver settings, and buffet tables with beautiful floral arrangements.
I spot Yael and introduce him to Jensen while I head over to do two things: check my makeup for the fifth time tonight and grab something to drink.
Outside the ladies’ bathroom, in the hall, I spot Miranda with a brunette talking in hushed tones, oblivious to my presence.
“Wells told me he’s got the ring, and I think he’ll propose soon. Tonight.”
“He won’t. It’s over,” Miranda says.
“What? Why? When?”
“Two weeks ago,” she huffs angrily. “I didn’t tell you because I was sure he’d come to his senses.”
“He will. He has to. You two make sense. He’s usually so levelheaded.”
“It’s that little tramp from his past! Waving her tiny natural tits at him! I’m telling you, since she appeared, he’s been different. It’s like he no longer cares about business.”
He cares about mine, I want to contradict. And I’m not a tramp waving my tits!
She seems to sense me and turns.
“I’d like to use the ladies’, if you don’t mind,” I say, as calmly as possible, pointing at the door.
She looks down her nose at me and brushes past. “If you think you can keep the interest of a man as worldly as Christos…” she warns.
I swallow and head into the ladies’, shut and lock the door, and then stare down at the sink, completely forgetting why I’m here.
They broke up. Two weeks ago?
When was it?!
Before he kissed me…
Before…or maybe after…the night he walked me home, when I was drunk out of my mind?
I can’t breathe right. I try to tell myself that it doesn’t matter. It’s not like we’re going to get involved in anything.
Are we?
By the time I head out, the room is more crowded than when I arrived, and as I scan the crowd for Jensen—I see him. Aaric.
Looking straight at me.
My knees wobble. The possessiveness in his stare makes me think that this man hasn’t forgotten the night I spent at his place either.
There’s a tightening between my legs, an uncomfortable feeling. I squirm and shift to get away from his stare.
“He’s Aaric Christos.”
“Hmm.”
Jensen is at my side, amused. “The guy you’re staring at—hell, the guy staring at you. He clearly means to have you in his bed sooner than you can say Aaric!”
“Hush. It’s not like that.” I laugh, moving away.
“Well…he definitely wants it to be like that. He seems to dig you very much.” He forces me to turn, and he’s still with a group of men—and he’s still looking at me with those penetrating eyes that are basically stripping me of every scrap of clothing I’m wearing.
He’s smiling this time. Though I’m not sure you could consider that a smile, not even a smirk, it’s too subtle for that. Just a slight curving at one corner of his lips—as if he’s already doing things to me in his mind.
There’s a silence as he approaches, and for a second all I can hear is the roaring sound the harsh pounding of my heart is making in my eardrums.
I turn to leave, determined not to make a fool of myself in front of his snotty ex-girlfriend.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you leave just yet.”
I raise my brows, as he looks at Jensen with a nod of greeting, then reaches out to place his hand on my shoulder.
“You just stand there and take up the entire room,” he says, close to my ear.
“That’s in your mind.”
“My mind is my whole world.”
“Christos.” I flush heatedly.
He shoots me a devil’s look, and quivering, I edge free and meet his gaze. “I’m not sure I’m welcome here. I’m pretty sure your girlfriend would like to have me shot. I should—”
“You’re not leaving.”
“I am.”
He frowns, glancing at the windows, starting to get wet with rain. “It’s pouring outside, bit.”
“So?”
“So that’s not the kind of wet I wanted to get you,” he says with a smirk.
He slides his hand to the small of my back and draws me into the crowd, and I’m rethinking this whole night. “Mingle for a while. I’ll find you later tonight. Take you home.”
I gulp and nod, confused about what I just learned. Jensen leans into my ear. “Aaric Christos told you he’d find you. Girl, there’ll be no place to hide.”
“Jensen!”
Aaric is across the room, yet it’s a constant struggle to ignore his large, strong hands resting at his sides. My body quivers with wanting to feel them on my skin.
I think of the way we curled together and my blood boils in my veins.
Yael asks me about House of Sass and I try to keep up with the conversation, but Aaric is staring at me.
“I’m interested in working with you,” I say. “I respect the fact that you need to get…well, a little…” I give him a look. “To reach your creative nirvana.”
He laughs. “I like this girl!” he tells Jensen, and Jensen says, “I like her too.”
“Jensen, really.” I shoot him a look, then decide I’ve been here long enough.
I don’t want to be rude to Christos, so I approach his group to say my goodbye, aware of him watching every step I take in his direction.
“I’m leaving.”
“I’ll take you home.”
I start saying no. It’s raining. We’ll be getting wet.
“We can talk business,” he says. His lips curving.
And I say, yes.
“I ended it before last weekend.”
We’re riding in the back of his car, toward his place. I hold my breath at his words.
“Before we were even in the socials section. She hasn’t spread the word out, thinking it’s salvageable,” he adds.
“Why. Why did you break up?”
“Because you changed everything.”
“We can’t…I’ve been misleading you. It’s not possible. We’re in business.”
“You want me.”
“I…”
His eyes twinkle. “It’s okay. I want you too.”
“It’s not easy for me. I don’t know why.”
He narrows his eyes as he looks at me. “It started making sense to me, that you feel safer if I’m unavailable. You won’t have any expectations and I won’t have any of you. But see…that’s not the way I envisioned you and I would go.”
“There is no you and I. We’ve had some close calls but—”
“There’s always been a you and I. Except only you and I know it. Only you and I know all the touches that never happened. All the kisses we never took. All the damned dances I didn’t dance with you.”
I look away, unable to fully grasp what this all means.
We end up heading to his place, and all the time I’m telling myself I can have him. He’s available, and he’s looking at me like…like he’s still interested.
“You son of a bitch! You lied to me,” I finally say when we arrive and sit down in his living room, the truth of everything hitting me.
“I let you believe what you wanted.”
“For how fucking long?”
“Two weeks. I would’ve told you sooner if I didn’t have the eerie suspicion that you like the idea of me being taken, that you feel safer around me believing I’m not making a move on you.” His eyes sparkle devilishly.
I’m shocked and already fired up by the first sentence. “Two weeks! I’ve been driving myself up the wall trying not to…”
He laughs and touches my ear. I feel tickles all over me.
“You think too much, and do too little,” he rasps.
“You do too much and think too little of the consequences.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“You. Everything blowing up in my face.”
“That’s not happening. But I want you blowing up in my face. Would you let me taste you, Bryn? Huh? If we went for it, would you let me finally taste you?”
“Christos.”
“I’ve never met a woman whose scent made me want to devour her like yours does. You confuse me, Bryn. You make me want to protect you and at the same time you make me want to break you. I want you to stop thinking and just fucking feel me. Feel this.”
He catches me by the back of his neck and puts his thumb on my mouth when we hear the doorbell.
His phone starts ringing, but he doesn’t pick up.
A minute later, a familiar blonde arrives. Christos doesn’t look up from me, his hand still on the back of my neck. “We’re busy here,” he says.
“Oh,” Miranda says.
Seeing her here makes me panic horribly, as if I’ve been caught doing something wrong. “No, I was leaving.” I stand and gather my things.
Aaric is on his feet. “Why?” he asks me.
I point at her, obviously. “You’ve got company.”
“That’s right. You.” He nods even as I turn around. “Bryn. Stay. Hey, stay.” He grabs my shoulders and turns me to face him.
“She said she was leaving,” Miranda says defensively behind my back.
“Thanks, Miranda,” he says flatly, not looking at her, only looking at me with what seems like panic in his eyes.
“Okay, I’m leaving, enjoy her, Christos, while she lasts,” Miranda says coolly.
I hear her footsteps recede, but not even then does Aaric release his grip on my shoulders.
“Why are you leaving?” he demands, his brows low.
“She was here.”
“I’m with you. We were having a good time. Why do you suppose I’d rather spend time with her than with you?” He seems vexed, his eyebrows low over his eyes, his eyes shining menacingly.
“I…”
“Why don’t you hang out with me? Why always business?” He slides one of his hands up from my shoulder to slide it under the fall of my hair.
“Because we’d do well not to confuse things.”
“Confuse the shit out of them.”
“She’s your girlfriend!”
He arches a brow.
“Your ex!”
He just stares.
“I don’t want to be all hot and bothered making out with you on your couch and some woman walks in—”
“She’s turning in her key once she finishes picking up her stuff.” He drops his hands, sighing, and I shift on my feet as he puts his hands in his pockets and stares at me from a few feet away.
I raise my eyes. My voice wavers. “I can’t do this, it’s too complicated.”
“Do you want this?” he asks.
“It’s just that the timing…”
“There’s always going to be something wrong with the timing. Or with me. Or with you. Or with some other bullshit.” He clenches his jaw, his eyes brilliantly intense as he takes another step. “I’m asking if you want this, Bryn Kelly.”
“Do you?” I croak.
“I want you more than you could possibly fathom.”
He smells so good I feel dizzy, my brain completely out of order as I go up on tiptoes and graze his lips with mine.
I realize what I’m doing and drop back down, and when I do, I’m red head to toe. “I don’t know what’s come over me.” I sit up and straighten myself.
“Whatever it is, I approve,” he rasps huskily, his eyes smiling in pure male pleasure.
Seeing my blush intensify, he cups my face and sets his nose to mine—brilliant, lustful eyes staring into my eyes. “Hey. Don’t fight it.”
“I have to. I’d be stupid not to.”
“Why?”
“Because. You…bother me, Aaric.”
“I want you, Bryn.”
I gulp and squirm in my panties.
“I still want you, little bit.”
My heart is racing harder each time he repeats those words.
“I wanted you before. That doesn’t hold a candle to the way I want you now.” He takes my shoulders, looking at me. “I’ll try to be patient. I didn’t have time before, but I do now,” he continues. “But you’re something I’ve wanted for a very long time, Bryn, and I’m only human.”
“Aaric, if things get messy, then we’re fucked.”
“They don’t have to get messy as long as we’re clear with each other and set some boundaries.”
“Like no exclusivity? No, thanks.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“The way you’ve carried on these years, I think I see more of the boy you were than there is actually left.”
“You didn’t want the boy.”
“You don’t know that,” I shoot back, angry at him putting the boy down.
“I do know that.”
“There were reasons. Mainly me. But I’d have a do-over if I could. That’s how much I regret not seeing what if I’d kissed you back that day.”
He clenches his jaw.
“But you…I just don’t know that this can go anywhere,” I say.
“It goes to my bed. You and me in it. For as long as we want to.”
“Then what?” I answer myself, “Then we remain friendly. Business partners?”
“I’m never going to be your enemy, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He strokes a hand down my hair, staring into my eyes as he adds, “I don’t want to hurt you. I’ve never wanted to hurt you. I thought I knew what I wanted. I wanted A, but then you come back into my life. Turning things around.”
“So you wanted A, what the hell am I, Z?”
He laughs. “You’re the rest.”
He watches me pick up my things, plunging his hands into his pockets as I head to the door and glance back at him.
“Not the start, but the end,” he says.
I just smile, trying to hide the fact that my heart is skipping, and I head out for the safety of my apartment, where no tempting sex god tells me he wants me. Where the boy of my past is still a memory.