Chapter 7
Cole
Sleep eluded me for several hours after shooing Violet from my office. I had to get her out of there before I snapped on her. Not out of anger though. Out of pure fucking lust. The woman was determined to push my buttons to see how much it would take for me to give in.
I kicked the sheets back with a sigh. There was no sleep with my dick hard from the scenarios that were playing out in my head. I could’ve given in. I could’ve fucked Violet right there and then, but I had listened to my morals. This girl had grown into the woman. So confident. So fucking hot.
I twisted the shower on to blast icy water for the third time tonight. Everything in me ached to do it. That wicked temptation begged my hand to go downwards. Do it. Just get it over with. You know you want to do it.
Twisting the hot water on, I rested up against the side of the shower while my fingers danced across my erection. Pleasure shot up my spine. Yes. I could imagine Violet’s hands on me, stroking me in perfect time, and then feeling those strong thighs clenched around my hips. I could imagine her face contorted in pleasure with her perky breasts bouncing hard in time with my thrusts. I could picture it perfectly. I could feel her inner muscles clenching in___
An anguished cry escaped my lips when my climax crashed down hard on me. I sagged against the shower wall while I tried to catch my breath, my heart pounding furiously in my rib cage.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I rested my head against the cool tile. Hot water blasted my back as I sucked in deep breaths. Shame itched itself up my spine. I needed to do something before I acted on the fantasies like I had almost done earlier in the evening. I couldn’t bear the thought of Alan’s reactions if he knew the awful truth of how I felt about his daughter. He’d kill me without a doubt. He was trusting me to protect Violet against other men, but I was the one jacking off in the shower to the thought of having sex with her. I was the one taking in those taut curves of hers. I was the one enjoying her company more than I should, and not in an entirely professional way.
And I was the one who had crushed her with rejection. I couldn’t erase the devastated and confused look on Violet’s face when she’d hurried out of my office. I had done that by not making it clear from the start that nothing would ever happen. I left the door open for her to make assumptions.
Sleep evaded me for a few more hours, but finally, I succumbed. I rose after three hours to shower again, drink some strong ass coffee, and hop into my car to drive out of Manhattan. I drove to the outskirts of the Hamptons to what used to be my mansion two years ago. I pushed the button on the intercom because I knew Stephanie would be home.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me,” I said. “Can I come in?”
“Cole? I thought you were sending a check and a lawyer.”
“I’m here to hand you the check myself. Is that okay?”
She didn’t answer. The gate buzzed open a second later. I drove up the driveway to park in front of the house. Stephanie opened the front door as I walked up the stone steps. She leaned up against the door frame, dressed in a pair of tight cotton pants and a simple tank top. Her hair was clipped up in a bun.
“I didn’t expect you to be here,” she said. “I thought you wanted the lawyers to handle everything from now on.”
Irritation swept through me from lack of sleep. I jammed my sunglasses up over my head to glare at her.
“Let’s just get this over with. What is it that you want to sell?”
“No need to get all pissy about it,” Stephanie said, rolling her eyes. “I’d rather you be here than that damn lawyer of yours. Come inside.”
It was strange being back in a place that I used to live in full-time. I felt like a complete stranger following Stephanie through the foyer to what used to be my office. It gave me a small stab of pleasure, to see that while the room was filled with boxes, nothing else occupied what used to be my personal space.
Stephanie gestured to the frames that were stacked against the wall. “Those there,” she said, glancing at her wristwatch with a frown. “Can we make this quick? I have to get ready for a date.”
“What do you want for them?” I asked.
“Nothing. Just take them. The artwork is all yours anyway.”
“This house is still technically mine,” I pointed out, grabbing the paintings by the frame. “What’s the rush? You don’t want your date to see your ex-husband in the house that he still owns while you rent it out.”
“That’s exactly it,” she quipped, glowering. “He’s a young Broadway star. If you’re curious, he has a show this weekend.”
I rolled my eyes at that. “Not interested even the slightest bit.”
“I didn’t think that you would be. That’s all that I had here that was yours. Everything else is taken care off.”
I didn’t wait for Stephanie to lead me out. I walked out with the paintings tucked against my side, trying not to let the anger grow in me. Everything in the house was still the same. Nothing had changed.
It occurred to me then that Stephanie kept everything the same for a specific reason. She wanted to reek of wealth to attract someone to love her, someone who was younger and more devoted to her than I ever was. She wanted satisfaction and went after it while I shied away from anything that reminded me of happiness.
A pang filled me when I turned to watch as Stephanie closed my office door quietly. She caught my eyes from down the hallway. Her expression was distant, but I could see the same thing I felt at that moment. Sadness. Our life together was over, but so were our lives before that too. Our youth was gone, and now we were left dealing with the fact that our best years were behind us. What did we have to look forward too?
And I couldn’t look at Stephanie with anger any longer. I was lusting after a younger woman who wanted to prove her attraction. I wanted to fuck my best friend’s daughter.
There really was no fucking difference between us.
“I hope that you find some happiness,” I said. “Not at my expense, but I do hope you find someone who can give you what you want.”
Stephanie crossed her arms as she stared at me with glittering eyes. “I wanted that from you, Cole. I tried so hard for years to get that from you, but you didn’t want to work at it. You wanted something entirely different.”
“I wanted my business to be the best. That was what I wanted.”
“And that’s why your office is empty here,” she said, sharply. “Please leave. My date is going to be here soon and--”
The sound of car tires on the gravel outside caught both our attention. Clutching the painting to my side, I made my way down the stairs with Stephanie on my heels. She grabbed at my arm desperately.
“Don’t, Cole. Don’t open the--”
I jerked the door open despite Stephanie’s protests. Jealousy wasn’t the word describe it. It was pure curiosity that had me biting my tongue in amusement. A young man stepped out of his brand-new Jeep Cherokee. His pants were cream colored while his blue button up shirt was partially open to reveal his hairless and tanned chest. He was the male equivalent of a gold digger, from the jewelry he wore to the frosted hair. He looked at me with a frown when I turned back to Stephanie, now covering her face in embarrassment.
“Nice,” I said. “Real nice, Steph. No wonder you wanted a check for these paintings.”
“Who the hell are you, man?” the lothario demanded, puffing out his chest. “What are you doing in my girl’s home?”
I couldn’t keep the laughter inside any longer. I stepped past him to my own car, placing the paintings carefully in the backseat. Opening the driver’s door, I slid my sunglasses down to cover my eyes without breaking eye contact.
“I paid for this house a long time ago. It ain’t hers, man. Word to the wise: hide what little bit of money you have because she’ll spend it.”
“You’re such a dick,” Stephanie cried, glaring at me. “Why do you have to do shit like this?”
I slipped behind the steering wheel with a shrug. I backed out of the driveway with Stephanie screaming obscenities. It made perfect sense why she wanted money. I uttered a silent prayer for the poor guy who obviously expected money but didn’t realize that Stephanie wanted the same damn thing.
On the drive back to Manhattan I decided that a stop at the jazz club in downtown was a needed stress relief. I owned a stake in the ritzy place, but I also enjoyed their selection of wines and food, as well as the relaxing music. I was never into the party scene with crazy clubs and bars. I liked the calm.
Plus, maybe the real deal with a woman would help me face Violet on Monday morning after what happened in my office. There was nothing better than the touch of a woman, or the sensation of entering a woman, to chase away the tension in my groin.
I reached the club after returning to my place to shower and change into something more comfortable than the suit I was wearing. The sun had already set behind the towering buildings when I stepped past the bouncer who barely glanced in my direction. A line of people was already wrapped around the building before 7:00 pm. I entered through the dark lobby doors to the small lounge area where a private bar and band played for the VIP guests.
None of the waitresses questioned me. They brought over my usual bottle of wine and appetizer without even asking. The sultry sound of jazz helped the headache that throbbed in my head as I sipped at the dark merlot wine, waiting for someone to catch my eye. It was a Saturday night. Someone was bound to pique my interest.
“Mr. Crayton?”
I looked up in annoyance at Michael Foster’s voice. He stood at the edge of my table, visibly surprised to see me. Before I could say a word, I caught sight of Violet standing nervously a few feet behind him. Her eyes met mine, and something inside of my chest roared to life. I took in the black cocktail dress she wore that gave quite the view of her toned legs and bust. It left little to the imagination.
“I thought it was you,” Michael said. “I didn’t think you’d come here to listen to music. You don’t strike me as a jazz lover.”
I forced myself to look away from Violet, whose anguished face turned from mine to study something else in the lounge.
“I own a stake here,” I replied, trying to keep my voice calm. “What are you kids doing here?”
Anger flashed across Violet’s face at that.
“Getting some drinks,” Michael replied, oblivious to everything. “As friends, of course. I know you have a strict rule about that.”
It didn’t escape my attention that the look in Michael’s eyes that suggested he hoped the night would go somewhere else. Jealousy surged through me hard. My fingers squeezed the stem of my wine glass before I forced myself to let go.
“You’re right,” I said evenly. “I don’t approve of it, so maybe you should take Ms. Summers back to her place.”
“No,” Violet said suddenly. She glared at me. “I can do whatever I want. You’ve made that much clear to me.” She was hurt. Beyond crushed. Fuck me. What had I expected?
She whirled on the edge of her heel to stomp across the lounge and find a table. I rose unsteadily from my seat and pulled out a few hundreds to toss on the table.
“Have a good night,” I said crisply. “I hope you enjoy your evening out.”
I left Michael standing there, baffled by the interaction. If Violet wanted me gone, then that was what she would get. It was better that way anyway.