FOURTEEN
RIFT
I arrived at the apartment she shared with Mitchell five minutes early. I hated wearing black ties, and I was fucking with it when Gwyn opened the door. Once my eyes landed on her, I froze, gripping my tie in my fist as if my life depended on it.
I’d never seen a sexier woman in all my life. The dress was a soft pink, strapless, and tight across her breasts and stomach before flowing around her hips and legs. It was slender, flowy, and she was wearing it so perfectly I was sure it was made just for her body.
She’d swept her hair up and away from her face and neck, allowing me the perfect view of her beautiful neck and shoulders. Her makeup was flawless from the light sheen of her eyeshadow to the gloss on her pouty lips.
She was fucking amazing to look at.
“You look edible.”
And she did.
I wanted to nibble on every square inch of her.
“Um … thank you, I think.” She laughed. “Come in.” She moved aside so I could step in.
“You know you’re beautiful, Gwyn, so stop acting ignorant to it,” I said as I passed her, making her blush sweetly.
“I agree.” A very large, older man appeared at Gwyn’s side. “She’s the loveliest creature in the entire world,” he announced proudly, unrolling the sleeves to his designer shirt as he gave me a once-over.
“Avel Petrova,” he said, reaching out to shake my hand.
Gwyn’s father.
I’d known it was him the second I saw him. I hadn’t been able to find much on Gwyn when I was researching her, but Avel was a different story. There was news story after news story about him and his business, and every story featured a picture or two.
“Rift Russell,” I said, returning his handshake as firmly as he was. My grandfather used to say you could tell a lot about the firmness of a man’s handshake, and for some reason, I wanted to leave him with a good impression.
“And you’re a friend of Mitchell’s, I hear?”
I nodded. “Yes, sir.”
His Russian accent was faint but distinct, and he struck an opposing figure. I could see why people listened to him. Of course, the fact that he was rich helped, as well, I’m sure.
“It’s a shame Mitchell couldn’t make it. Seems like something a man would want to escort his fiancée to, but I’m an old man. I guess things are done differently these days.”
I wish I could disagree, but I was the man being paid to destroy his daughter’s heart.
“Well, at least I’m here to ward off the unruly gentlemen in Mitchell’s stead.” My eyes flittered to hers, and she blushed. “Looking as beautiful as she does, I’m going to be a busy man tonight.”
Mr. Petrova laughed, his laughter booming off the smooth hardwood floors of Gwyn’s apartment.
Gwyn and Mitchell’s.
I kept having to remind myself.
“I like him, moy tsvetok,” he said to Gwyn, and the Russian word piqued my curiosity. “I suppose Mitchell has excellent taste in women and friends.” He playfully pulled at a wayward strand of hair hanging down on the side of her face.
“Father,” she said, smacking his hand away and smiling shyly before turning her attention to me.
“Well, my work here is done. I’m sorry I couldn’t fix that pipe for you, moy tsvetok, but I will call someone.”
“Nonsense. I can do that. Thank you for looking at it, Daddy.” She squeezed the swell of his bicep with a smile.
“I must be going, but I’ll see you both later at the gala.”
The three of us said goodbye, and then Avel was gone, leaving the room feeling three times bigger.
“Are you ready? Would you like me to drive?”
“Oh.” She was lifting a shawl off the hook of a coat rack by the front door. “I’m sorry. I completely forgot to mention how we’d be getting there.”
My brows pulled. “And how will we be getting there?”
“Mitchell ordered a car for us.”
“Okay. That works.”
“Good, I’m glad.” She did look relieved. “I’d completely forgotten about it until I got the call the other day. I figured there was no use in canceling it now.”
“That works out. Now, we both can have a couple of drinks.”
She laughed. “I’m not much of a drinker. Besides the bowling alley, I can’t tell you the last time I had a beer.”
“Well, we can change that tonight.”
I stepped into the hallway first, and she followed, closing the door behind her and locking it.
“I don’t think it will be very appropriate if a board member is toasted.”
“That’s what you have me for. To keep you from dancing naked on the open bar.” I flashed her a heart-stopping grin and hoped it was enough to ignite a fire under her dress.
“Something tells me you’re more trouble than I can handle.”
Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea.
“You’re very right, but it can’t hurt to try, right?”
She laughed. “Are you going to spend the entire night shamelessly flirting with me?”
I nodded. “I have to use my time wisely,” I said honestly.
That wouldn’t make sense to her, but it did to me.
I had to spend every minute alone with Gwyn wisely.
“Mitchell says you flirt with all the ladies.”
I paused. “You talked to Mitchell about me?”
Again, she laughed. “Of course, I did. What kind of woman would I be if I didn’t mention to my fiancé that his friend was flirting with me?”
Relief moved over me.
She had gone back and told Mitchell I was flirting with her.
She had been honest with him, and from what I was hearing, Mitchell had blown it off as if it was no big deal.
In a way, I was glad she had redeemed herself in my eyes that way, but I was also angry she had told him. From that moment on, she would think my flirting was nothing special because, as Mitchell had put it, “I flirted with all the ladies.”
This would make my job even harder in a lot of ways because I now had to convince her that my flirting with her wasn’t something I did all the time. I had to convince her that she was special.
Different.
And the truth was, she was all those things and much more.
I was beginning to feel bad for what I was doing to her, but I knew in my gut she would give in and show her true colors.
All women did.
The car was waiting for us downstairs, and by car, I meant limo. It stretched out in all its full, extravagant glory in front of Gwyn’s apartment building. A driver stood outside, his hands neatly folded in front of his lap as he waited for us to approach the car.
“I feel like we’re in a movie,” I muttered, moving to stand behind her.
“I’m sorry. I thought he ordered a Town Car. I have no idea why they sent a limo.”
“They knew Miss Petrova needed to be escorted in style.”
She looked over at me with a smile. “Ha-ha.” But her brows were pulling in a tedious way. “Well, it’s too late to have them send another car. Do you mind terribly?”
“Sweetheart, I don’t mind in the least. After you.” I swung my arm out, gesturing toward the limo.
“Such a gentleman.” She fluttered her lashes dramatically for my benefit before leading the way toward the limo. I enjoyed the way her hips swayed.
Inside the limo, we found a bucket filled with ice and a champagne bottle, two glasses, and a bowl of strawberries.
“The car rental really went all out for you guys,” I said.
A warm flush made its way up her chest and neck as we sat side by side in what was clearly meant as a romantic evening for Gwyn and Mitchell.
“This must be a mistake. Mitchell would never do anything like this.” She waved her hand toward the setup. “He’s not a very romantic kind of guy.”
I knew that, which meant he had set up this romantic limo ride for us.
What a fucking idiot.
Was he trying to make it obvious he was pushing us together?
“Well, their mistake is our gain.” I moved toward the edge of the lush leather seat we shared and grabbed the neck of the champagne bottle.
Gwyn didn’t say a word. Not that I expected her to.
The bucket moved, dropping a folded note card on the floor of the limo.
“What’s that?” Gwyn asked, stretching her neck to look over my shoulder.
“I’m not sure.” Flipping open the small notecard, I read the words printed inside on one side.
Drink and be romantic on me. Whatever works. Just get the job done.
Fucking idiot again.
What if she had read the note?
“What does it say?” she asked.
“Enjoy,” I said quickly, tucking it away and popping open the bottle. “And that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”
Champagne exploded from the opening, dripping down the front of my fingers. I turned toward Gwyn, licking the bittersweet liquid off my knuckles.
I could feel her eyes on me, watching my every movement. I didn’t want to disappoint my audience, so I made each lick slow and deliberate. When I finished, I took a drink straight from the bottle before handing it to her.
Her eyebrows rose, and her eyes went wide with shock. “You want me to drink from the bottle?”
I smirked. “Why not? Or do you not want to drink after me?” I took another drink, eyeing her.
“Of course, that’s not it.” She swallowed. “It’s just that …”
“What? Does the idea of your lips touching mine disgust you, Gwyn?” I slid back into the seat with a slouch and tipped the bottle in her direction with a dare. “Or does it turn you on, and that scares the shit out of you?”
Eyeing me for a moment, she then surprised me by snatching the bottle from my hands. She brought it to her lips, her eyes never leaving mine, and she tossed her head back, put her glossy lips on the mouth of the bottle, and poured the liquid down her throat.
The muscles in her neck flexed as she swallowed, and the creamy skin of her throat tempted me. I wanted to wrap my fingers around it, applying just enough pressure as I fucked her hard and watched her face twist in the release of her passion.
She had no idea she was doing it, but she was flirting with me, making me think of all the things I wanted to do to her. Of all the ways I would give her pleasure.
I cleared my throat and adjusted my pants as she handed me the bottle. She licked her lips, and I covered my groan with a cough.
“You’ve been holding back on me, Miss Petrova.”
She laughed, smoothing the tulle of her dress as she settled back into the seat. I wasn’t sure, but I felt like she had moved an inch or two closer toward me.
“I’m sure there is a lot about me that would surprise you, Mr. Russell.” Her tone was full of confidence and mischief.
“I look forward to getting to know all your secrets.” I took another drink and then passed it back to her.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“Definitely,” I said honestly. “I want you loose and ready for tonight. Plus, a little liquid confidence never hurt anyone.”
“Ha,” she scoffed loudly but took the bottle anyway. “Tell that to me in the morning.”
In the morning?
Were we going to spend the night together?
I turned toward her, her words tempting me in ways I’d never been tempted before. It was too soon, way too soon, and I made it a rule to never sleep with my marks while under the influence.
She caught the slip in her words, and this time, the heat of her blush reached her roots.
“I didn’t mean … I wasn’t.” She took a deep breath. “I think that’s enough for me.”
She handed me back the bottle, biting the corner of her lip as she avoided my stare. I had a feeling this would be a fun night.
When we finally arrived at the hotel where the gala was being held, I knew Gwyn was definitely feeling the effects of the champagne. She was far from being sloppy drunk, but I could see the tension relaxing from her muscles.
We made our way inside the grand ballroom where I watched the happiness and pride take over Gwyn’s entire body. All her hard work had paid off.
“It’s amazing,” I told her.
“Isn’t it?” She was too busy moving over every detail to pay attention to my fixation on her, which was a good thing.
Gwyn made the rounds, and I followed her, smiling and shaking hands with everyone she introduced me to. I gritted my teeth in annoyance each time she followed with, “Mitchell’s best man.” By the end of the night, my jaw would be in agony.
Everyone was disappointed they wouldn’t be able to meet Mitchell, and Gwyn did her best to hide her own displeasure over his absence.
Every now and again, I made sure to snag a glass of champagne and place it in Gwyn’s hand. Each time, she glanced at me sideways, but I knew she wouldn’t argue in front of the guests. I had a feeling she didn’t really want to anyway.
We’d been there over an hour before we finally found ourselves alone, and I took that as my opportunity to have a much-needed conversation with my target, but before I could speak, she did.
“I’m sorry if you feel overwhelmed by everyone vying for your attention. You’re new and shiny.” She smiled.
“I don’t mind. It’s kind of amazing to see everything you’ve done with this. You should be really proud of yourself.”
She stared at me, her eyes shimmering, and the look on her face made my gut ache. She probably wasn’t used to being praised for her work by anyone other than her father.
“Thank you.” Her eyes dropped to her half-empty champagne glass, her lashes relaxing against her perfect cheek. “It’s nice to hear that from someone other than my father. He’s kind of obligated to be proud of me.”
“I don’t think he feels obligated at all. He sees how hard you work and how much you care. Hell, I see it.”
“I wish Mitchell did.”
“Well, he definitely missed out tonight. But his loss is my gain.” And that was all I would say about him. It wasn’t my job to talk the douche up.
She needed a reason to want to sleep with me and me telling her what she probably was desperate to hear right now—which would be a lie if I said it—wasn’t going to help my cause.
A slow song started, and Gwyn’s eyes went wide with pleasure. Every time she looked like that, I envied whatever it was that gave it to her.
“I love this song. Isn’t the band wonderful? They’re very popular.”
“Would you like to dance with me, Gwyn?”
My question took her by surprise, but that look of pleasure I enjoyed so much on her face followed. “I’d love to, Rift.”
I led her out to the dance floor, spinning her around and then pulling her flush against me. She gasped when I slipped my arm around her waist and pulled her firmly against my body, but she didn’t deny me the closeness.
We stared at each other as I took the lead, moving us around the dance floor in a comfortable but intense silence. I let the music take control as we waltzed.
“I’m impressed. Where did you learn to dance like this?”
I shrugged. “I took a couple of classes.”
“Really? Any special reason?”
I grinned, dropping my head, and my lips moved against her hair as I whispered, my eyes moving around the crowd. “To impress the women I want to take to bed.”
I felt her stiffen in my arms, and I worried I was pushing too far too fast for her lately, but she surprised me when she simply asked.
“And does it work?”
I pulled back to look at her, finding a mix of genuine curiosity and what I hoped was jealousy swimming within the hues of her eyes. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
I was basically telling her I wanted to take her to bed, and I knew she got what I was saying when her eyes widened for a second. She swallowed hard, her neck moving with the motion and begging to be kissed. Our gazed locked, and we stayed that way for what seemed like forever before she switched the subject.
“Tell me, what kind of name is Rift anyway? Is that your real name?” she asked, smiling stiffly up at me as we danced slowly to the music.
I grinned. “A nickname.”
Why did I say that?
I usually just lied and told them my name was Rift. It kept things simple that way. But looking down into Gwyn’s face and knowing she was somehow working her way into my conscience, I wanted her to have a piece of me the other women I targeted didn’t.
“I thought so. Am I special enough to know your real name?”
She was special enough.
Honestly, she was the hardest target I’d ever had. My reasons for getting her cheat with me were slowly starting to shift in a different direction. It was becoming less about an escape for a fiancé who, frankly, didn’t deserve her and more about a selfishness I never inhabited with any other mark.
I wanted her to cheat so he would walk away from her and leave her for someone better to come along. And briefly, while I was thinking these things, I silently wished I was good enough to be that someone better.
“Dylan.” The name slid off my tongue.
My voice sounded as rusty as the name I rarely used. I wrote it on paperwork and personal items, but rarely did I speak it out loud anymore.
She smiled, pleasure glowing on her cheeks, and I was thrilled to be able to give her a reason to look so happy.
“Your name’s Dylan?”
I nodded, swallowing hard against the feelings moving up the back of my throat.
“It suits you. It’s a handsome name.”
“You think I’m handsome?”
The smile she gave me was ridiculously adorable, and I had to repress the urge to kiss it. Looking away from me a second, her eyes moved back to mine. Everyone in the room disappeared like a cliché chick flick.
“Stop fishing for compliments. You know you are. Every woman in the room is jealous of me because they aren’t here dancing with you and I am. You could have any woman in this room, I’m sure.”
“Is that so? Because I was just thinking every man in this room was shooting daggers at my back. I’m lucky if I leave here tonight alive. You’re the sexiest woman in this room, but sadly, you don’t realize it.” I reached up and slid a strand of her hair around my finger. “And I assure you, I can’t have any woman in this room I want because if I could, I would be leaving with you instead of dancing around this room like you’re not driving me mad with want.”
Her eyes widened, and she swallowed, her slender neck shifting and smoothing with the action.
I waited, hoping for a response from her, wishing she would ask me to leave with her. But this time, it was different. Instead of wanting to leave with her because she was the job, I wanted to leave with her so I could spend the night showing her exactly what she was missing in her relationship.
I wanted to feel her for me, not because Mitchell was paying me to be with her. And more than anything, I wanted to taste what wasn’t mine.
“Is it warm in here to you? I think I need some air. Excuse me.” She was moving from my arms before I had a chance to stop her.
Not that I would have. I wouldn’t embarrass her in front of all her guests.
Instead, I stood to the side and waited for her to return. The entire time, all eyes were on me. Women stripped away my suit and touched my flesh with their eyes, and the men despised me.
It was the usual.
Once Gwyn returned to the ballroom, she kept her distance. Socializing with every person in attendance and shying away from any dance I might consider asking her to have with me.
I’d pushed her too quickly and too soon.
She made sure we spent the rest of the night with chaperones, as I liked to call them. I didn’t protest, though. I’d give her all the safety nets she needed because a part of me was scared as hell I’d gone too far and probably screwed this whole thing up.
The drive back to her apartment was silent, and she made sure to sit as far away from me as possible, but after ten minutes, I decided that wasn’t working for me.
I moved closer, my leg lining up against hers.
She looked down at our touching legs and closed her eyes.
“Dylan, please,” she said, asking for something, but I wasn’t sure what.
Turning toward her, I fingered a strand of her hair that had escaped from the pins. “Please what?” I asked, feeling ready to strike at any second.
The air was thick around us, and for the first time in a long while, my heart was beating hard and fast in anticipation.
My knuckles skimmed the side of her cheek, and she shivered.
“I know Mitchell says you flirt with all women this way, but it feels …” She paused when my knuckle skimmed her soft skin once again.
I moved closer, breathing in her sweet cinnamon scent and capturing it inside my lungs.
“How does it feel, Gwyn? Tell me.”
My words were whispered; my breath striking her ear and the side of her neck, making goosebumps roll across her flesh.
Her eyes remained closed.
I touched her chin with my fingertip before turning her face toward me.
“Look at me,” I said, wanting to see her eyes once more before I decided to make my first move.
Her eyes opened slowly, and then I was looking into her large hazel eyes.
“When’s the last time you were kissed properly?” I asked, knowing good and well Mitchell wasn’t getting the job done.
Worry filled her eyes, and she swallowed hard once again. I could see the struggle in her eyes. She wanted me to kiss her, but she didn’t want me to kiss her, and I knew that was because she didn’t trust herself not to kiss me back.
“I get the feeling it’s been a while,” I said, running my finger along the curve of her chin and across her soft lips.
Her lips opened a bit, and her hot breath rushed over my fingertip.
She nodded, answering me without actually answering me.
“I could kiss you like you’ve never been kissed before. You know that, right?”
She was dazed at that point. High off my words and the way I was saying them. The way I was touching her. I had her exactly where I wanted her, and I silently debated if I should keep going or pull back.
She nodded. “I know you could.”
I grinned, enjoying her honesty. She knew what I was capable of already, and I had barely touched her yet.
“Can you keep a secret?” I asked, deciding now was the perfect time to keep going.
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them once again. She looked back at me with a mixture of fear and desire swimming in her hazel orbs.
“I can,” she whispered.
Checkmate.
I had her.
All I had to do was move in and press my lips to hers. Once I kissed her, she wouldn’t be able to pull away. Once I kissed her the way I was sure she had never been kissed, she would be putty in my hands.
I moved closer, my lips brushing the side of her chin, and she stiffened in my arms before I shifted my lips a bit more, and she melted, becoming loose against me.
“Good. Here’s our little secret,” I said.
And then I kissed her.
I lost my large hands in the hair on the back of her head and pulled her into my kiss. She moaned, reaching up to grip my wrists.
I opened my eyes to verify hers were closed, and they were. She leaned into me, opening just enough that I was able to deepen the kiss.
Cinnamon.
It rushed over my tongue as I tasted her sweet lips and mouth. My hand slid from the back of her head and down to her hip, pulling her closer to me. There was no such thing as too close.
Her hands dropped from my wrists, and her fingers tangled in the loose bow tie around my neck.
I wanted more.
The kiss was no longer enough for me.
I pulled away from her lips and looked down at her swollen lips before I moved down and began tasting the skin on her neck.
“Mmm,” I hummed at her flavor.
Her breathing was fast and hard in my ear, and she was pulling me closer, letting me lick and suck at the skin just beneath her ear.
“I want you, Gwyn,” I whispered against her skin.
And just as the words came out of my mouth, the car slammed to a stop just outside her apartment.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered, covering her swollen, perfectly kissed lips with shaky fingers. “I’m sorry.”
Pushing me away, she climbed from the limo like the inside was on fire, and in a way, it was. I was burning alive, turning to ash for her.
I half expected her to race up to her apartment without so much as a goodbye. But when she didn’t, I then became worried about what she would say as she waited for me to get out of the limo.
The driver shut the door behind me, and Gwyn thanked him before he made his way back to the driver’s side. When he was gone, it was only the two of us.
“Thank you for coming tonight, Rift. I had a wonderful time.”
I frowned, feeling angry that she would pretend our kiss didn’t happen. “I did too. I’m glad you allowed me to escort you.”
I went along with her façade.
“I’ll let Mitchell know you were the perfect date.”
In other words, she wasn’t going to inform him of our passionate kiss. Not that it mattered if she did.
“In other words, you’re going to lie to him?”
Her eyes clashed with mine and hurt seeped into them, making me feel sick to my stomach for what I’d basically made her do.
Quickly, I pretended like I hadn’t said that and said, “I’ll be sure to let him know he missed a wonderful night with his fiancée.”
She nodded.
“Good night, Rift.” She turned to leave, but I stopped her.
“Gwyn?” I caught her wrist, pulling her back to face me, and we somehow ended up toe to toe. Her chest rose and fell with each breath she took, but she wouldn’t look me in the face.
“Yes?”
I watched her lips move; they were puffy from our kisses, plump and calling to me in a way that made every inch of me below the waist clench.
I wanted nothing more than to capture her lips with mine again and bury my tongue in the sweetness of her mouth, but I had pushed her enough for the night. Even if her body swayed into mine, trying to fulfill a need I was sure ached in her very core, she wasn’t emotionally ready. Alcohol and sadness were fueling her desire.
“You can call me Dylan.”
She was disappointed in herself. I could see it in her eyes, and I felt like shit for making her feel that way.
“Good night, Dylan.”
“Good night, Gwyn.”
And then she was gone.
And I was officially fucked.