Chapter 28

Crissy

I was sitting on a bench in the club with Dylan while the two of us threw back drinks. I’d shoved my tits up to my chin and paired it with a tight pair of jeans and some heels. Dylan was a taller man, and I wanted to make sure my lips hit right at his ear. It would be easier for us to talk that way, and my breath on the shell of his ear would weaken him a bit.

It always did when men were staring at my tits.

I was three drinks in before I pulled him to the dance floor. I gagged when he put his hands on my hips, but we swayed to the beat as I locked my arms around his neck. His eyes were devouring me, no doubt thinking about all the things he’d try to do to me tonight. Little did he know, however, that little Miss Crissy didn’t have sex on the first date.

Or at least that was what I’d tell him.

“You look gorgeous tonight,” Dylan said.

“Oh, my gosh, you’re so kind,” I said, grinning. “And those drinks are so strong! You’re trying to take advantage of me, aren’t you?”

“Never,” he said, smiling. “A woman like you deserves the best.”

“And you think you’re the best, huh?”

Right then, the bartender appeared beside us with more drinks. I’d have to pace myself a bit more if I was going to make it through the evening, but I gladly took it from Dylan and giggled. I knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to show me what he could do for me when we were out, all the conveniences that were afforded when I was with the likes of him.

Little did he know this was child’s play in Grant’s world.

“I am so glad you’re here with me,” he said.

“Me, too. I’m really glad I caught you after work.”

“What made you want to catch me?” he asked.

“Well, I figured you were the kind of man to defy orders. You know, take risks and everything? But when you never came back to my desk, I assumed I’d have to come to you.”

“I take risks so long as it doesn’t risk my job,” he said. “Working for Grant Jacobs is the opportunity of a lifetime. I can’t jeopardize that, even with how beautiful you are.”

“Wars have been started over less,” I said, grinning.

His pelvis ground into me, his length growing against my leg. I giggled as he leaned in and kissed my ear, but what he didn’t realize was that I was giggling at the size of his cock. It was nowhere near as impressive as Grant’s, and it only showed me how much of a little boy this guy truly was. I had no idea what I’d seen in him the first time he walked by my desk, but I was suddenly glad Grant had steered him away from me.

“Speaking of work,” I said. “What do you do, anyway?”

“Oh, let’s not talk shop,” he said.

“Oh, man, no one ever wants to do that,” I said, pouting. “I’m just at my stupid desk all day, typing up dumb papers.”

“Are you really that curious?” he asked.

“Grant doesn’t ever talk to me,” I said. “I don’t know anything that happens around there. How am I supposed to learn anything if no one ever talks to me?”

“Well, what do you wanna know?”

“Do you, like, buy stuff or sell stuff?” I asked.

“The junior executive department is actually headed by your father,” he said. “I’m shocked you don’t know much about it.”

“Grant doesn’t talk, but my daddy talks even less.”

“Not a good relationship then?” he asked.

“No,” I said.

“I’m sorry to hear that. He’s a good businessman, but sometimes that means sacrificing other areas of one’s life in order to get there.”

Thank the heavens I was loose with alcohol, because I would have slapped that idiotic statement right from his face had I been sober enough to do so.

“To answer your question,” he said, “we mostly buy stuff and do research. Mr. Jacobs is always looking for new ways to make money, so we spend money to research how to make more.”

“That’s all? You just look up shit on the internet all day? Sounds awesome.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that, beautiful, but I don’t expect you to understand all that,” he said, grinning.

Son of a bitch. I wanted to deck him right in his balls with my knee. Dylan took my hand and pulled me away from the dance floor, and by the time we got to the bar, there were two drinks waiting for us. He threw his back as I put mine to my lips, then his hand tipped up my plastic cup. I had no choice but to swallow it down, and I could feel my head swimming. He was intentionally plying me with alcohol, and I had to make sure I kept my head on straight.

“See, this is what I would’ve done with my time in New Orleans,” I said.

“You’ve been recently?” he asked.

“Yeah. Grant dragged me to some stupid meetings or whatever. Some company or some mess he wants to buy. You guys buying that? Or researching? Or do you just look at cat videos?”

“Ah, so you’re aware of that deal,” he said.

“Not really, I guess. The meetings were shit. I took less than one page of notes. Everyone just stood around confused with their thumbs up their butts.”

“You don’t say,” Dylan said, grinning.

“Yeah. What’s that? What are you smiling at?”

“Just you,” he said. “You’re just so lovely.”

“Thanks,” I said, giggling.

“Anyway, I’m aware of that deal, too,” he said. “Probably know more than you do.”

And there it was: his ego running away with him. If I could just get down a bit deeper, my job would be done and all I’d have to do was listen.

“Nope. I work with the head honcho,” I said. “I know he wanted to go down there and make it rain with some old men or something. Did you know that?”

“I did,” he said. “I also know that Alex pulled that research project from us days ago. Said it was too important to hand over to junior executives while we were still learning.”

“Sounds like you don’t know much at all then,” I said, grinning.

“Oh, I promise you I do. I’m the head honcho around that department. I know everything.”

“Then prove it.”

his eyes dancing along my face as he pushed another drink in my direction. I picked it up and placed the straw between my lips without so much as looking at it, but my world was beginning to spin. If I could hold on just a little bit longer, I’d have everything I needed to take back to Grant.

And I would never have to do this bullshit again.

“I know you know the team leader is your father,” he said. “And I know you’re curious about what it’s like to work for your dad. It’s cool by the way. He’s a good man, though he’s a fucking pushover when it comes to your stepmother.”

Holy fuck, I was over this conversation. That woman was no more my stepmother than she was my sister. She was only four fucking years older than me, and I had half a mind to slap the Botox smirk right off her damn face.

But it was interesting that even one of his junior executives would mention something like that. How did they know that? They were never at the house. Did she come into the office or something?

“I know Alex has been more hands-off with us lately because he’s been running this deal himself—with the company whose meetings you sat in at. I also know he’s been looking at some of the department budgets and talking with accounting about reallocating money in our direction, which I believe he’s been successful with.”

Why would my father need a bigger budget? Something told me Grant had the key to deciphering all this bullshit, so I tried to simply remember it verbatim.

“And I know one last thing,” he said as he pushed a shot toward me.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Take the shot and I’ll tell you.”

Without hesitation, I threw the tequila shot back. It burned going down, and that was when I knew I’d gotten myself into trouble. Dylan’s arm wrapped around me as he led me toward a doorway, and his voice was low in my ear as I tried to turn away from him.

“I know we should get out of here and get you home. I think you’ve had a bit too much.”

He was right. I had. But I knew his tone of voice. I knew he had no intention of taking me home, and I knew I had to get away. I couldn’t go home with him. I couldn’t break the promise I’d made to Grant. I stuck my hand in my pocket and tried to fumble with my phone, telling Dylan I’d call an Uber and that he didn’t have to bother.

“An Uber?” he asked. “You won’t be safe in one of those. Look, I’ll just take you home, help you get into bed, and I’ll let your father know to get you some water in the morning. Easy as pie.”

“It’s all right,” I said. “Really.”

“No, no, no. I insist. I want to make sure you get home all right.”

I saw my car at the other end of the parking lot and cursed myself for parking it so far away. I was in no position to drive, but I could’ve at least gotten into it and locked him out. He slowly led me over to his car, the side of my body grazing the cool metal as I heard the thumps of the car door unlocking.

“Let me just get an Uber,” I said. “It’ll be easier.”

“Crissy, let me just get you home. I want to make sure you’re safe.”

He opened the door, and I turned around to face him. His head was tilting even though his body was standing still, and I had to hold back a burp before I shut my eyes. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself on my feet, but his hand slowly gripped my arm.

“Promise me you’ll take me home,” I said.

“Well, I need to go by my place and let my dog out quickly, but after that I’ll take you home.”

“No, Dylan,” I said. “If you don’t want me taking an Uber, you have to take me straight home.”

“I didn’t kennel her before I left. Trust me, it’ll be all right.”

“Dylan, promise me,” I said, begging.

“Just get in the damn car, Crissy.”

I didn’t trust a damn thing coming out of his mouth. I was beyond drunk, but I knew when I was being take advantage of. His arm ripped me from the car, shoving me into the passenger seat as my hands planted on the seat. My ass was sticking out, and I felt him grind down into it. Vomit started to creep up my throat as his hand slid down my side. What the fuck was happening? How the hell was I going to get out of this? I tried rearing up, but his hand pushed down on my back. I tried turning around, getting a leg up to kick him, but all he did was grasp the crook of my knee with his hand.

“Dylan, stop,” I said. “What are you doing?”

“Taking a risk.”

The smirk on his face made me sick to my stomach, and bile rose to my throat. I was too drunk to fend him off and had no leverage to get up. Tears ricocheted down the sides of my face as I fumbled for my phone. If I could manage to press and hold the home button, it would call Grant. He’d hear what was going on, and he’d call someone.

Right?

Just then I heard a man’s voice. It was low, distant, like an afterthought just before someone wakes up from a dream.

“Leave her alone,” the voice said.

My leg dropped to the ground as I slid out onto the pavement, and I heard Dylan snarl at the man. Something about “minding his own business” or whatever, but I took that as an opportunity to crawl away. Something came down on my ankle, and I shrieked, but then I heard an unearthly crunch as I yanked my ankle away.

I looked behind me and saw Dylan writhing on the ground, holding his jaw as he groaned in pain. I tried to crawl away, wanting desperately to get back across the parking lot. If the bouncer saw what was happening, he’d come to me. That was their job. That was what they did.

But I felt a pair of arms around me and began to panic.

“No. Please. I have to call someone. Grant. Grant Jacobs. Please.”

“Shh, it’s me, Crissy. It’s me. Listen to the sound of my voice.”

“Grant?” I asked.

But I didn’t get much more out before my stomach hurled the alcohol from my body. Grant carried me off somewhere as I continued to vomit off to the side. Then the cool comfort of leather came into contact with my skin.

We didn’t even hit the road before I was heaving into a plastic bag that was held up to my lips.