Crew

Payback. That's what this is.

At least Ad could mask her arousal when she saw me this morning after my swim. I knew I got to her. Her nipples pebbled into high peaks under the pink dress she was wearing. She used the age-old tactic of crossing her arms over her chest to keep me from noticing. It didn't work. 

I don't have the luxury of hiding my bulging erection. I'm wearing navy blue shorts and nothing else. It's still more than what Adley has on.

All that is covering her body is a red string bikini that looks like someone painted it on with precision. I may know what's underneath it now but I haven't got my first taste yet, and my cock is eager.

"You look happy to see me," she calls from where she's resting in a lounge chair near the heated pool. "You're smiling."

Little mynx.

"Not as happy as you are to see me." I slide my sunglasses down the bridge of my nose to peek over them at her bikini top.

"It's breezy out today," she lies.

It's hot as hell. The blustery weather from last week was a prelude to blue skies and a rising thermometer. I wouldn't have given a shit if we were forced to wear parkas on this trip. I wanted her alone and I got my wish. The bikini is a very welcome bonus.

She's coming around. That wall of protection she built around herself in my apartment the night we kissed is slowly breaking apart.

Patience is the key when it comes to Adley. That's one of the lessons I've learned since I met her.

Another is that she doesn't have a lot of close friends.

She treasures the ones she does and I'm on that list. Risking what we have scares the hell out of her. Truth be told, it scares me too.

"Did you take care of business?" she asks with her eyes closed.

"For now." I take a seat on the lounger next to her, impatience causing my shoulders to tighten. I want to ask her when we'll talk about what happened in my apartment, but she's relaxing at the moment; something that's been in short supply in her life in recent months.

She works herself to the bone for a salary that she can barely live on. She used to talk incessantly about going back to school to become a veterinarian but I've noticed in recent months that it's not a subject she willingly brings up. If someone else does, she seamlessly navigates the discussion in another direction.

I've asked her point blank if she's still interested in being Dr. York, she assures me she is.

"Why do you work so much?" She looks over at me. "You're super rich. Isn't there a point where enough is enough?"

It's never been about the money to me. My drive to succeed has a lot more to do with ego than it does wealth. I never wanted the silver spoon in my mouth. I spit it out as soon as I was able to; branching out on my own to build a life that wasn't bound to my family.

Unfortunately, I still own a stake in their business. If it weren't for my mom, I would have sold it for pennies on the dollar years ago just to free myself of the burden of the twice yearly board meetings and back-and-forth bitterness between shareholders.

"I like the work," I admit as I drop my sunglasses on the small circular table between our loungers. "It's an adrenaline rush for me."

That answer doesn’t satisfy her. Her brow furrows. "Don't you have enough excitement in your life outside of work? You don't have to chase the high by spending ninety percent of your time juggling the five hundred different businesses you run."

I laugh. "There's not nearly that many, Ad. I'm not a fucking robot."

"I know. Robots don't have hearts." She rests her hand in the middle of her chest between those two beautiful round globes of flesh I want to sink my teeth into.

"You think I have a heart?" I ask because it's a gateway to the discussion I've been ready to have since she walked through the door yesterday.

She looks down before her head turns toward the ocean. "You said you'd take me to the water when you were done with your call. That was five hours ago."

The subtle dig about my time spent on the crisis at the Matiz boutique in Los Angeles isn't lost on me. I had no intention of spending that much time in the office I set up in Lark's old bedroom. I made over thirty calls trying to track down a shipment that had gone astray.

Customers were waiting in line at the boutique this morning anticipating a new lipstick and nail color combo. The manager didn't think to reach out to report that the shipment was M.I.A. until she unlocked the door of the store this morning.

I could have easily handed off the matter to someone at head office in New York to deal with but I welcomed the distraction. Spending time with Adley while we're not actively discussing where our relationship stands is becoming harder and harder for me to do.

"Do you think I have a heart, Ad?"
She swings her legs over the side of the lounger, so she's sitting and facing me directly. "Of course you have a heart."

I stare at her body remembering what it looked like on my sofa, lush and curvy; her skin smooth and creamy. "I know the last few days have been hell for you. They have been for me too."

Tilting her head, she studies my face. "What do you want, Crew?"

To strip you bare and fuck you until every cell in your body craves my touch.

"You know what I want, Ad." I stretch my legs, crossing them at the ankles. "I want you."

"You want to fuck me." It's not a question because we're beyond that. Nothing has changed for me since I kissed her. The driving need to be inside of her never lessens.

"Very badly."

Her eyelashes flutter as she drops her gaze. "If we did that, nothing between us would ever be the same again."

She's right. It would be impossible to go back to being just friends, but I'm well beyond that point already. I left my platonic feelings for her behind months ago.

"Is that such a bad thing?" I ask honestly. "We're adults, Ad. We can have sex and see where it goes from there."

"I know where it will go," she challenges, her hands fisting together in her lap. "We both know where it will go."

"Enlighten me." I stare at her. "Tell me where it will go."

"To hell." She stands suddenly, her hands darting to her hips. "Do you remember Gretel Gallant?"

"Who?" I run through names in my mind, trying to place that one.

"Gretel Gallant," she repeats slowly.

It's familiar but I can't place it. Guessing would only insult Adley more. Apparently, this Gretel woman is someone from my past. "Who is she?"

"A woman you fucked in a photo booth in a restaurant in Times Square."

I drop my gaze to my lap. Fuck my fucking past.

"What about Christy Marcus?"

I close my eyes before I shake my head.

"You fingered her to orgasm on a subway train before you took her to your place. I got to hear all about that while I was cleaning vomit off her dog early one morning last year."

My head pops up. "How the fuck did my name come up during that?"

"You did it the night before she came into the clinic." She rolls her eyes. "How many black-haired, big-dicked men named Crew do you think finger women on the D-train on a nightly basis?"

How many women tell a veterinary assistant about their sex life?

"I can't erase my past." I look up at her face. There's a level of emotion in her eyes I've never seen before. "Don't punish me for that."

"I'm not punishing you." She moves to sit next to me, her outer thigh brushing mine. "I didn't bring up those women to throw them in your face."

"Why bring them up at all?" Uneasy, I draw in a deep breath. I don't know why I'm so surprised that she's heard about my encounters with other women. I've fucked women who sought me out based on what a friend told them about me.  I didn't care what brought them to me. All I cared about was getting off.

Her hand reaches for mine and I greedily welcome the touch. I cup both my hands around hers as I rest them on my thigh. 

"I want you to remember my name." Her voice is even and steady; a direct contradiction to the emotion in her eyes. They're filled with a mixture of confusion and despair. "A year from now, or five or ten, I want to be able to call you up and ask you to hang out. If we sleep together, I'm going to lose that. I don't know if either of us can handle life without the other anymore."

Fuck her and her common sense.

She's right, except she's not considering one possibility.

"Ad." I turn to the side so I can face her directly. I could drown in this woman. I want to. "It's not just about the fuck for me. There's more."

Her brows rise as she leans forward a touch. "More?"

"Yes," I say with a crack in my voice. I don't do this. I don't sit and discuss my feelings with anyone. I keep it all in, driving through my day with the ruthless force of a bull on a mission to crush everything in its path. Numb is how I want to feel twenty-four, seven. It's how I've always felt yet right now I want to tell her I'm feeling things I can't comprehend. They scare the hell out of me and make me feel safe at the same time.

"You're going to say that you'd never hurt me." She leans her head against my shoulder. "I know you wouldn't, Crew. You're one of the only people in my life that I know will protect me at all costs. That's another reason why we can't sleep together. I need you. I'm always going to need you."

My chest tightens with those words. They're brutally honest and a plea for me to back the fuck off so I can be the man she needs me to be.

Sacrifice isn't something I know, but I'll learn for her. I'll do it because losing her is a worse fate than never fucking her.

I need to stop tearing her up like this. I'll find a way to manage the need.

I inhale sharply. "You ready to check out the ocean, Ad?"

Her delicate hand flies to my chin, tilting it so I'm looking into her blue eyes. "We're good, right? You and I, we're okay?"

"We're good." I slide her hand to my lips and kiss her palm lightly, closing my eyes to chase away the thought that I'm never going to have more. Somehow, I have to accept that being this woman's friend is enough.