CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Lori
He owns me.
I stand in the bathroom off the hallway I’ve now made out with my boss in, I stare at my smudged makeup and wild hair, and decide that statement is as honest as it gets.
He owns me.
Good Lord, I all but admitted to being turned on by him being my boss. And I was. I didn’t think that could be possible, but in that office that I barely even saw for the distraction of his tongue, I was most definitely living a boss fantasy. Which is much better when you’re in the moment than living the aftermath. Or maybe I wasn’t living a boss fantasy. Maybe I’m just turned on by Cole in any and all capacity. Not that it matters. For someone who didn’t want to mix pleasure with work, I just managed to moan and orgasm on a desk in some nameless person’s office that I hope remains nameless.
I open my purse and do my best to fix my face and hair with the few items I’ve creatively fit in my tiny bag. Thankfully I have lipstick, a concealer, a tiny comb and a petite hairspray, all of which I waste no time putting to use. Time is critical, not just because of the party either. The longer I’m down some hallway with Cole, the more obvious we are. I walk to the door, steel myself for the man on the other side, and exit.
He’s leaning on the wall, looking all Tall, Dark and GQ—no, all Tall, Dark and Just Owned Me, in his perfectly fitted suit. The man doesn’t even have a hair out of place, standing there, one foot crossed over the other, his arms folded over his perfect, broad chest and me on his lips.
He straightens to his barbaric height. And he is barbaric, or I wouldn’t have ended up with my skirt to my waist and his tongue doing the things it did to me. “Ready?” he asks.
“Of course, I’m ready,” I say, turning away from him and starting down the hallway. I’m not going to let what just happened affect me during the party. I have a job. I have a boss.
He gives a low, sexy laugh, and steps to my side. “No doubt in my mind,” he assures me. “And considering I can still taste you on my lips, this party might just be tolerable.”
I stop walking and look at him. “Cole—”
He turns to face me, intimacy and warmth in his blue eyes. “Yes, sweetheart?”
“Don’t say anything like that in that room, please,” I say. “Because I’m not sure I can hide my reaction.”
“But I can say it when we’re alone?”
“Yes,” I say, because denial has gotten me nowhere, which was the point of this entire night, “but only when we’re alone. Now you say yes.”
“Yes,” he says. “Just us. Our secret.”
“Our secret,” I repeat, and I don’t know why, but right then in that moment, agreeing to our secret rather than fighting it, somehow deepens the intimacy between us.
“There you are!”
At the sound of Maria’s exclamation, I jolt, and face forward to find her standing in our path, a good three feet away and now dressed in a pale blue, knee-length dress with a hint of shimmer. Cole and I start walking toward her. “No one knows but us, sweetheart,” Cole murmurs softly. “I promise.”
“Meanwhile,” I say in an equally low voice, “I’m trying to look like I didn’t just have my legs around your shoulders.”
He laughs, a sexy, rumble of masculinity that clenches my sex, and carries us until we are nearly in front of Maria. “Any luck with the sweets or coffee?” she asks urgently, meeting us the last few steps.
“Cupcakes and coffee on the way,” I say. “The owner of the bakery said it would be an hour about ten minutes ago. They’re going to ask for Cole downstairs.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” she breathes out. “I’ll have security call me when they arrive. How many were they able to supply?”
“A hundred,” I say, “and since everyone won’t eat a cupcake we should be fine. And they’re bringing coffee in thermoses with condiments.”
“You’re an angel,” she says, repeating my mother’s earlier sentiments. “I hate that you had to do this.” She starts backing up. “You two should head to the party. The guests have started piling in.” She turns and heads down the hallway and Cole glances over at me.
“Time for the torture,” he says, motioning me forward.
I fall into step with him, remembering his comment about enduring tonight because of me. “I take it you don’t like these kinds of events.”
“You take it right,” he confirms as we turn into the main hall between the elevators. “I’d rather be working a case or in a courtroom.”
The elevator dings and a male voice calls out, “Cole Brooks, you son-of-a-bitch.”
Cole stops walking and we turn together to find Cat’s brother, Gabe, who I’ve met a few times before, exiting the elevator. “Who’s the son-of-a-bitch?” Cole challenges, moving forward to shake Gabe’s hand. “You look like shit, man.”
I almost laugh at this comment because Gabe is really not a man that looks like shit, considering he’s tall, with sandy blond hair, and a hard body in a fitted suit, but he does appear a bit wearier than usual. “Thanks for pointing that out, you bastard,” Gabe replies. “I’m in the middle of trial prep for a bitch of a case.” Gabe shifts his attention to me. “I heard they stuck you with Cole. And after consulting on a case with him recently, I have to ask: Has he made you as miserable as he made me yet?”
I have a flash of me on the desk, head thrown back and moaning that has me clearing my throat and saying, “Extremely miserable,” and I’m pretty sure I blush when I say it, but if Gabe notices, he doesn’t comment.
“Stay close to me tonight,” he suggests instead. “I’ll keep you away from the Brooks insanity.”
“This man,” Cole chimes in, glancing at me, “is the real manwhore.”
Gabe hold up his hands. “I am not a manwhore and I have never tried to pick up Lori.” Which is not true. He actually has. “Well, not that my sister knew about,” he adds, laughing. “Cat would kill me, literally.”
“And I’d represent her when she’d done the job,” Cole promises, not even trying to hide his meaning.
“Message received,” Gabe says. “And on that note. Where’s the booze?”
Cole motions Gabe forward. “Drink and be merry.”
“I plan to,” Gabe says, disappearing through the doors.
“Great attorney and friend,” Cole says, as we move toward the doors ourselves, “but he really is the manwhore.” He glances over at me. “Who I want nowhere near you.”
The possessiveness in his tone, in his eyes, does funny things to my belly. “And you’re not?” I challenge.
“Sweetheart, I haven’t touched a woman since you.”
I’m stunned, and pleased, and confused by this confession. “You haven’t?”
“No. I’ve been obsessed with you and I still am.”
“Isn’t obsession bad?”
“Feels pretty damn good to me.”
He doesn’t give me time to react to that statement. He opens the doors to allow my entry into the party, and I have this impression that’s by intent. He wants me to think about those words the entire night and I will.
I enter the party to find the massive open space clustered with people, standing tables, and random displays of food for the taking. I’ve barely had time to survey it all before Cole is by my side, and Reese is motioning us toward a group of people.
“Here we go,” Cole says, the two of us crossing to join Reese, who wastes no time involving us with the guests.
“Meet Jared Moore,” he says, of a short, stocky man next to him who is apparently the CEO of a large company battling a variety of legal woes created by the ex-CFO, details I know simply because Cat wrote an article about the man.
“I hear you’re the man to hire,” Jared says to Cole, which I’m certain will become a theme for the night.
“Only when I’m sold on the case,” Cole says, motioning to me. “Meet Lori Havens, a rising star who will be second chair on my upcoming cases, whatever they may be.”
Cole says those words without hesitation, confident enough to praise me, to share the spotlight with, rather than consuming it all alone, where I have known men who would, my ex for instance. It matters to me, just like his claim to seeing no other woman since me, matters. I think he might matter to me, beyond sex and fantasies but it’s a thought I shove away out of necessity and conversation.
From our CEO introduction, we move on to meet lawyers, doctors, executives, several retired and active ADAs, judges, reporters, and the list goes on. In between each, Cole treats me like his student, asking me to assess each person. Asking my opinion of their character, and he listens with genuine interest. We debate several topics, and I find that I am enjoying the evening, taking in the people with Cole. I like our debates. I like to hear his opinions. He engages me, challenges me, interests me beyond all the reasons I already have to be interested.
We’re about an hour into the event and Cole is in deep debate with another attorney over a judge’s ruling that I really want to hear about when Cat calls my name. I glance up and my heart falls to my feet when I spy the familiar, tall, good-looking man in a blue suit who’s standing with her: my ex. My asshole of an ex is here.