Easton
Well, shit…
I knew it could happen, but I didn’t realize it had set in so intensely already.
A dull throb pulses in my chest as I board the jetliner. I crash into my seat and rake my hands through my hair. My mind isn’t on the meeting, or the bullshit game I’m trying to preoccupy myself with. It’s on the blonde who has me paralyzed. Captivating me to the core. I haven’t even left the ground, but I feel like I’m flying.
She’s the perfect exhilaration. The exact amount of completeness.
She brings out the best in me.
I’m in love with her…madly. Sure, I’ve been here before, but it doesn’t make it any less terrifying. She has the power to devastate and annihilate me in the palm of her hands.
I tried so fucking hard to keep my heart out of it and my dick in it. I’ve managed to succeed and fail at the same time.
My fingers impulsively find her name and I shoot her a text.
Me: Just you and me.
I understand I have some damage control to handle from my daunting past, and I have no problem reminding Zoey I want a shot—an actual shot. I accept the challenge of cleaning it up and proving to her I’m everything she needs and wants. I made my bed and I’ll lie in the bastard and continue to make it up until she knows I’m in it all the way. I’m determined to show her the outcome is completely different than what she’s worried about. In other words, she’ll see the real me, the one she’s got by the heart.
Penelope once brought these feeling out of me, but that was before I realized everything I was experiencing was fake. Not far into our relationship, we hit a point where I couldn’t see her in my future. Everything I thought about—business, vacations, hanging with Zach or Max—Penelope wasn’t in the image. I had no thoughts of us years down the road. I couldn’t tell you the exact point where it all went away, but I’m not opposed to say from the beginning. We exploded with sexual tension, imploded, and were over. Like a flash fire of a cotton ball soaked it acetone. We didn’t stand a chance.
But Zoey?
I see her.
I crave the balance.
I covet her smile.
It’s her. All her.
Zoey: Just us. :)
After landing in New York City and checking into the hotel room, I rush back out to my meeting with OctoStructure. They’ve been after me for years, but force me to decline every damn job they pitch because of their lowball prices. I don’t stand to make a profit with them.
But let’s hear them out…again.
Bright green eyes smile at me as I tell her—the receptionist—who I’m here for. She’s new since the last time I was here about six months ago. Those elated eyes never let go of me as she bites her lip and dials the proper extension.
Here’s the thing—I’m used to the attention. It’s like my “stock” is advertised and trust me, every woman enjoys jumping on it. I used to think all women wanted love, a relationship, and security. A solid connection. Boy was I fucking wrong. That concept was not only naive, but widely inaccurate. I’ve found there are more women who enjoy one-night stands or weekend rendezvous in comparisons to the ladies who want to settle down. Trust me, you don’t have to go on a search for it either.
These women aren’t afraid to admit their intent. They’re out for one thing—satisfaction. I’ve always had other priorities that precede relationships, so of course you never heard me complain. Not for a second.
Yeah, I’ve occasionally come across the latchers—the women who tell me they only want a night of pleasure until I fuck them senseless and they latch on in hopes “they’ll be the one” to change my mind. Those are hard to shake. They’re the ones who’ll call the office and try tricking whoever answers the phone into letting them talk to me. They’ll send shit—pictures, love letters, scandalous pictures. They’re also the ones I won’t call for a second go around even during a dry spell.
Building my business has always been my number one priority. Trying to balance business and a relationship has often proven difficult. I’m always too busy with my empire to give a relationship I don’t want to begin with a shot. Except since Zoey, I’ve never wanted to be home more in my life.
“They said they’re ready for you,” the receptionist says, pulling me away from my daydream of looking into Zoey’s eyes.
She leads me to the elevators and taps the up arrow, her flirty eyes peering at me. “All the way to the top floor. Mr. Allred will be waiting for you.”
“Thank you,” I state.
She hands me a piece of paper and shrugs with her lips between her teeth. “Maybe if you get bored while you’re in town, you can call me.”
Amusement dances in my eyes. This gets me every time. No shame in the game. I glance to her petite hand holding her number. “Does Mr. Allred know you’re hitting on his potential clients?”
Those pretty green eyes saturate with worry. “But you’re—”
“Unavailable,” I finish whatever she was about to say with words that taste different.
She straightens herself, indignantly pulling back her shoulders. “I thought…Well, it doesn’t matter. Sorry.” She scurries away.
Well now. Aren’t I just a dickhead.
Just as expected, the job proposal is tremendous, but the price tag isn’t appealing. After listening to his pitch for forty minutes, I declined politely with the excuse of lacking the man power and then thanked him before leaving.
As I step back into the lobby, green eyes land on me, but abruptly rip away. I stifle a chuckle.
“I didn’t tell him,” I say as I pass her desk only to ease her mind.
No use in being a complete dick. If I didn’t have my sights set on Zoey, I’m pretty damn certain, I’d given her a hell of a night.
After showering and jacking off so hard to a mental picture of Zoey mewling for me that I had to brace myself from my knees giving out, I get dressed and pull out my laptop. I’ve got several projects in progress and I need to see where we are with them.
Again…business never slows.
I’m not at all surprised to see how well David manages them. He balances them and makes it look effortless. He fleshes out any discrepancies with our supplies, time, vendors, etc., making sure there are few mistakes and the road is smooth…on all of them. That’s over one hundred employees with LS alone, not to mention the project managers assigned to them and the suppliers. David deserves a fucking raise.
Me: Remind me to give David a raise.
Zoey: Noted. How’d your meeting go? Good, right?
Her enthusiasm and support for me and the company is something that motivates me harder. It’s a new feeling. A proud feeling.
Me: I declined. Lowball pricing again.
Zoey: I’m sorry. Maybe one day they’ll figure it out.
I rest back into the hard chair and close my eyes, smiling.
Exactly, one minute and fourteen seconds later…
Zoey: I miss you.
The three words send a charge of electricity shooting through me. A dizzying delirious and euphoric high. I dial her number.
“You couldn’t just let me have that one?” she answers with a coy tone.
“No. I want to hear you say it.”
The line falls quiet and I swear I can hear her chewing her lip nervously. “I don’t want to sound clingy. I know everything is still fresh and kind of new.”
I grunt my disapproval. “You’re the farthest from clingy. I haven’t received thirty texts an hour asking what I’m doing, where I’m at, or how your undying love for me is killing you.” Although the last part wouldn’t be so bad.
She giggles. “Sounds like you’ve had the run in before.”
“I want to hear you say it,” I repeat with impatience gnawing at my stomach.
“I miss you,” she whispers.
My heart twists and I smile at the inevitable happening. “Don’t lose interest and start chasing something else shiny.”
She lets out an airy titter. “I think that’s more fitting for you.”
“I don’t notice all things shiny. You have my undivided attention.”
“Please don’t be a false facade. I’m really enjoying this side of you.”
“It’s all me,” I tell her.
“Good, because I think at this point you’d break my heart.”
“That’s the last thing I ever want to do,” I say, hoping she hears the honesty in my words.
“How low was OctoStructure this time?”
“Pointless.” I laugh. “I’m thankful I’ve got the fundraiser to attend so this trip won’t be a total flop. I wish you would’ve come. I think you’d have a great time with casino night.”
“The only gambling I do is throwing the dice on what I want to eat at night. And sometimes even that is a bust.”
“What happens when you bust?”
“Popcorn. Although it doesn’t sound so bad when I say it out loud. It’s only when I’m sitting on the couch dying for something more filling and chewing on the arm rests that reality sets in.”
I laugh as she ends on her own giggle. Dropping my head back on the chair, I close my eyes, picturing her petite frame sitting at the end of the sofa, a bucket of popcorn in her hands, and her feet in my lap. “Tell me again.”
She doesn’t miss a beat this time. “I miss you,” her whisper clearly riding out on a smile.
“Good night, Zoey.” I hang up before my emotions string out of my mouth.
I want to know for sure what I’m feeling is love and I want to tell her to her face, not over a phone call while I’m hundreds of miles away.
Large playing cards standing at least six feet tall line the entire entry way to the event room hosting the fundraiser. Black and red balloons sit atop dice half the size of the cards, stacked into pillars.
Casino night. This fundraiser has always been entertaining and is known to bring in the largest donations from the wealthiest people. Plus, the drinks are always on the house. Not like it really matters to any of us here. Our pockets run deep, so to blow a few thousand dollars isn’t detrimental.
Because the event is sponsored by Needful Construction—a nonprofit organization who strives to help build homes for the needy—I always attend and give both financially and with services. Last year I contributed twenty home security systems with two years of paid monitoring and my employees volunteered their time. Even I, CEO, got out there and worked—something I do annually. It keeps me grounded. Reminds me where I came from.
Everyone hits hard times, some harder than others, and I want to give them a sense of security. Let them know it’ll be okay.
I sip my whiskey and scan the room. Blackjack, craps, poker and roulette are the major game contenders here. People are lined up, huddled around the tables, playing and having a good time.
Tawny brown eyes, filled with hope and sexual intent, land on me. Her full lips pull into a seductive smirk and grow wider the closer she stalks toward me. With each step, the shiny black fabric of her dress sparkles against the lights, like it’s advertising her goodness.
“Hello, Easton,” Katelyn purrs. “You’re looking good all dressed up.”
I smirk. “As always.”
She takes the glass out of my hand and takes a slow sip, keeping her smoky eyes on me. “I thought for sure you’d call me when you arrived into town. Imagine my hurt when you didn’t.”
“You’re a big girl, Katelyn,” I reply candidly.
She drags her teeth over her bottom lip. “This you already know.” She steps in closer and draws a straight line with her finger down my arm. “Will this be like last year?”
Last year I made a donation and cut out early. She and I barely made it into her hotel room before fucking half the night. She’s wild in the sack, loud and adventurous.
She hooks her arm through mine and tries to guide me toward the exit. Except my feet aren’t moving. Although, I admire Zoey’s wishes, there are times I have to disregard them completely. Point in case—this one.
“I—”
She runs her paws over my chest. “It’s been far too long and I’m done waiting. Let’s get out of here.”
I take a sip of my whiskey and peer down at the needy eyes. “I’m dating someone.”
I raise a brow as her hopeful eyes lose all their glimmer and widen. Her mouth slacks and she lurches away. Hurt and confusion twists her face. “You’re kidding me, right?”
I shake my head.
“What the hell, Easton? We’ve done this dance for years. You know how I feel about you.”
“Indeed, but I’ve warned that you shouldn’t.”
Her feet shift and she places her hand on her hip. “Can’t fault a woman for hoping,” she snaps curtly.
“You can’t fault me for being honest,” I counter calmly.
Bitter cold pins me. “Then why isn’t she here with you?”
“It’s complicated to explain. We have a few hurdles to jump before we’re public.”
Her brows furrow, the lines between them stiffened with anger. “It must still be early in the relationship then. Seems too premature to have problems, don’t you think?”
I shake my head chuckling. “The only problem we have is work.”
Her lips round. “Oh. You work with her?”
That’s one thing about Katelyn, she can decipher anything. She’s sharp as hell.
Ignoring the question, I take another taste of my whiskey.
“Are you happy with her?” Despondence grips her voice.
“If I weren’t, would you and I be having this conversation?” I ask.
Her arms fall limp beside her body, her view drops to the floor, and she takes a deep breath before glancing back up. “That’s good, Langley. You deserve someone who’ll make you happy.” Although said with a smile, she’s unable to conceal the sore bite under it.
I watch her walk away with her head held high, her hips with extra sway volleying side to side, long legs with long strides…
Katelyn Steele is one of those latchers. She’s held on to me for dear life, trying her best to wrangle me in. If I place distance between us, she finds a way to reel me back—normally with excuses for her behavior as being “drunk off the fuck.” She’s never been too overbearing, which is why I’ve kept her around.
A lay like her is hard to deny.
Except this time—it was the easiest thing I’ve done.
I make my way to the blackjack table. Might as well lose some money while I’m here. It’s going to a good cause and it’s not like I have anything better to do anyway.
An hour goes by and I’ve lost every damn hand dealt. I’ve never claimed to be a gambler. Yeah, I can sell rainbows to unicorns, but no way in hell is my luck good enough for this. I excuse myself from the table and head back to the empty hotel room where thoughts of Zoey will soon crowd my mind.