***
Amelia
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When Chris comes to pick me up he’s quiet. At first it doesn’t bother me, until we’re at Giorgio’s and he’s barely said anything. We’re in the back in a booth again. Although there are a few people, most of the tables are empty. As I sit there trying to tell myself it’s nothing to worry about, my attempt at not worrying doesn’t last long. Then a text comes through, and he barely glances at it before stuffing it back in his pocket without responding. I give up. “Who texted you? You’re being all quiet then don’t respond to your text, and you didn’t kiss me when you—”
Chris pulls me against him with one hand as another drops below the table, then slides along my inner thigh. “I’m sorry, sugar, you need some attention?”
Crap, his fingers are rubbing me through my pants and panties, while I’m fighting not to moan. “I—Chris, no. It’s not—will you stop? Okay, don’t stop yet.”
He chuckles in my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “No dessert yet, you’ll ruin your dinner.”
I want to scream as he bites my earlobe then takes his hand away. “You’re so mean. Who texted you?”
With a shake of his head, he hands me his phone. “Trent, a teammate, he wants to go to the strip club. I want you to know I never went out to the strip club.”
I look up from his phone, shocked he handed it to me. “I know. But I wouldn’t have been angry if you had, you warned me. At the time there was a part of me trying really hard to self-destruct us, and I almost wanted you to so I could use it against you. I might have set an alert on your name within five minutes after I sent the vase back to you.”
“You were checking up on me?” A dimple flashes.
Laughing, I nod as I hand him his phone back. “Yep, and reading everything on you I could find to figure you out. What are you going to do after you retire this year?”
He shrugs. “Enjoy life, eat pizza and ice cream. I was thinking about getting my passport renewed and visiting a country where I don’t speak the language. I’m good from the investments I’ve made, so money isn’t a concern. I can keep an eye on them from anywhere, I’m not pinned to a desk or location.
“I want to stay in Chicago, which is why I bought the building here. I was considering becoming more hands-on in my properties, to keep me busy on a day-to-day basis. I want to play it as it comes, though. I just got back all my bids for the repair to go through, and already I’m wondering if I want to do it. We’ll see, I’m up for anything.”
“You don’t worry you’re going to miss it?”
“I’m thirty-five, I’ll be thirty-six in July, that’s old for a baseball player. While it will be a huge change, I’m ready. I was going to retire after my first season here until we won the World Series. They thought I had something to do with it, offering me a contract I couldn’t refuse.”
“You were a part of two other World Series wins, it sounds reasonable to think you might have something to do with it.”
“A part of. The first one, yeah, I worked my ass off, I was hungry for the ring. The second one, though, I was in the right place at the right time. Same with here in Chicago. Management has worked hard, putting together the right players, making sure everyone worked together until it was a fine-oiled machine. What about you? You’re in the corner office, are you on the partner track?”
I shrug. “I was but I’m not anymore. Here I was steeling myself to have the conversation with Ethan when he gets back, and he already knew.” My stomach flips at putting it into words
“What happened?”
“I figured out I’m never going to be like my brother. I don’t have what it takes, the ability to put things and money before people. I’m not cut out for it.”
He has the I’m-trying-his-patience look on his face. “What happened?”
“Karen and her wife divorced. Ethan represented Karen, and her wife, Susan, asked me to sit in on her settlement offer. Ethan...” I shake my head as I remember how cold his expression was, remember what he said. “Susan wanted more than the prenup she signed gave her. Looking through the financials, she would have gotten much more if she went for support. She refused his offer. He slid across the table a receipt for an abortion she had a few years prior, when she was supposed to be with Karen, and said if she signed the offer she could walk out with the receipt and no one would ever know. If she didn’t sign, he would set fire to her world and she could watch it burn. He was going to send the receipt to her Pentecostal preacher father.
“Ethan was willing to burn her world to the ground over a few million dollars. It made me sick. I’ve seen him do it before, but to companies, not people. As I watched him, I knew I didn’t have his killer instinct. To truly be no-holds barred, to win at any cost.”
Chris squeezes my hand. “How is it going to work, you quitting?”
“I’m not sure exactly. It will take a little time to roll willing clients to other lawyers in the firm so they don’t end up losing anyone. My concern is the loss of clients. There’s no getting around it, but the fewer the better and that will be hard to achieve.”
“Are you going to go into a different type of law? Why did you want to be a lawyer? Was it all Ethan?”
“I have no freaking idea what I’m going to do. I’m going to take some time to figure it out once I leave. Money isn’t a problem, there’s a family trust I get monthly which is more than I need.”
“A family trust?” He says it as if he’s asking me to confirm I have an STI.
Of course, Chris would hate the idea. The men in my past were eager to hear about it, not Chris. “Um...yeah.” His eye brow goes up. “I get large payouts from it on certain birthdays. I received a million at eighteen, twenty one and every time I got a degree. Five million at twenty five and thirty and every five years then fifty five thousand a month.”
He’s pale. “A month?”
“It almost all goes to charity, I only keep maybe ten percent. I set up a foundation and it helps people with everything from scholarships to medical bills to battered women. I don’t want the money, it doesn’t define me.”
A hand goes through his hair, he looks away then takes a deep breath before looking at me. “It was easy to tell you had money. I wasn’t expecting it to be so much, but I make the money, I take care of you. It will never be any other way.”
With a smile I lean into kiss him. “Yes, okay. However, you want it to be, it is.”
Returning my kiss, he smiles down at me. “So why did you go into law if you didn’t have to?”
“Like I said, my money doesn’t define me. And yes, me becoming a lawyer was pretty much all Ethan. He was a mythical figure in my childhood. My parents adored him, except they were crappy people who were even crappier parents. They had nannies to raise their kids, and private schools. I got to stay home as a kid, while Ethan was in private school by the time he was five. He listened to me, he talked to me, not down to me. When he left I was sure it was my fault. I wanted to make him happy, to make it so he would be proud of me, so he wouldn’t leave me again.”
Chris hugs me. “He was lucky to have you.” My confusion is clear. “To have someone love you as much as you loved him. To know that kind of unconditional love is a tremendous gift. But as a teenager he probably didn’t recognize it. He does now, though.”
“He does, but I know I’ve depended on him too often in the past. In the last few years I’m doing better at standing on my own, with not needing his approval. It was weird how me not depending on him made us closer. Now he doesn’t have to worry about fixing my problems we just have fun and talk about real, I don’t know, grown-up things.”
He smiles. “You are adorable.”
Our food arrives. He keeps pushing the calamari away then stealing some. I feed him some pasta while I avoid the broccoli he offers me. As we finish, the waitress brings the ticket with an apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry to let you know, someone has told the press you two are here and there are five different people waiting out front for you. We checked, we swear it was no one on staff. We appreciate you and your brother’s patronage, Ms. Bishop. A few staff overheard gossip among guests.”
Chris sighs. “Thanks for letting us know.” With a nod she leaves. “Well, sugar, what do you want to do? Do we go out the front or the back?”
“The back please.”
“The back it is. Do you want dessert?”
“No, I’m good. I’m kind of tired.”
We check our phones, both surprised to see it’s only a few minutes until ten. “Home it is, out the back.”
Just as we’re about to leave Benny, a cook I’ve known for years, comes out of the kitchen. He’s surprised to see me, he’s got a cigarette in his hand, and it’s obvious he was on his way out for a smoke break. I stop in surprise. Since the last time I saw him over six months ago, he’s lost so much weight I barely recognize him. “Benny, oh my god. You look great.”
He laughs as he hugs me. “Thanks! It wasn’t easy, especially working here, but I feel so much better.”
Pulling back to look at him, I shake my head. “How did you do it?”
I jump. What the hell? Did Chris just growl? Benny heard it too, and he lets me go, his eyes wide. Chris’s hand goes around my arm, yanking me tight against him. “I—uh.” I meant to introduce him but Benny doesn’t stick around.
With a wave he backs away. “See you, Amelia,” he mumbles as he leaves without turning his back on Chris.
My eyes go up to Chris. “Did you just growl?”
His eyes are ice. “You don’t touch another man, they don’t touch you.”
I’m trembling as I shake my head. “Chris, it meant nothing. He’s a friend.”
“Yesterday, you promised you belong to me. You don’t touch another man, they don’t touch you.” The drawl I once thought sexy slowly caresses every word until it’s bursting with lethal violence. “It’s simple. Do you understand?”
All thought of arguing with him dies in my throat as I swallow. How can I be so scared yet turned on at the same time? “I don’t touch another man, they don’t touch me. It won’t happen again.”
The hand around my arm tightens. His other hand comes up to touch my cheek then slowly, achingly slides over my trembling lips. “Good girl.” Then as quickly as it happened his eyes clear, the corner of his mouth tips up, and he whispers, “No one touches you but me. Don’t worry, though, you won’t want anyone to touch you but me.”
***
Chris
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Amelia is quiet in her corner of the cab. I know I shocked her with my reaction to that Benny guy touching her. Hell, it shocked me too. The sight of her in another man’s arms caused a tidal wave of fury so strong for a moment I was blinded by it. No one touches her, no one even fucking gets close to her. It was a fight not to rip her from him. Hell, I know my grip on her arm was tight enough to make her flinch. The primal reaction mystifies me as much as it does her. While I do not share my women, ever, in the past another man touching a woman I was fucking never even made me blink.
A few times I watched Caroline on set during a sex scene, at her request, to make sure the other actor wouldn’t get any ideas. A few models in my past got touchy feely with other models, and it didn’t bother me in the slightest. Why the sight of Amelia even smiling or teasing another man pisses me off, I’m at a loss to understand.
This doesn’t bode well, I’m still working on dealing with the jealousy I have toward Ethan at how close they are. Even as she tried to reassure me she wasn’t as dependent on him as she once was, I was fighting the urge to take her as far away from her brother as possible. Which was ridiculous, he’s her brother, she needs him in her life. I just didn’t like the idea of her needing him more than me.
When my phone goes off again, I know it’s Trent. I pull it out to find I’m right. Fuck. Amelia grabs my phone, the little brat. I don’t mind, I liked how happy she looked when I gave it to her in the restaurant.
“Chris, this poor guy. He’s lonely, do you want to invite him over for a movie or something?”
“Hell no, I want to take you home and fuck you and fall asleep in a nice warm bed. He’s not lonely, he’s horny. The dumbass isn’t getting within a hundred feet of you.”
“You’re nuts. I’ve met Trent before, he’s a client of the lawyer in the office right next to me. He’d never make a pass. Well he did once, but I think it was like a reflex or something. Whatever. So hook him up with someone.”
“Sugar, that’s what a trip to the club entails. I’m pretty damn sure you don’t want me going to the club. Or am I wrong?”
“Hmm...no, the idea of you in the club with some stripper grinding on you has me wanting to growl—wait. What if I went with you? I’ve never been to a strip club. I always wanted to know what it’s like in there. Karen has been in one and another female lawyer in our New York office has been to several. I was supposed to go with her the last time I was in New York, but the client cancelled the meeting.”
Her request surprises the hell out of me. Sweet, good girl Amelia in a strip club? “Hell no. I’m not taking you to a strip club. There are a bunch of drunk, horny men there who will flip their shit when they see you. Not happening.”
“Please, pretty please. I want to go just once. I’ll be good, I won’t let any guy get near me, and if they do you can just growl at them again.” She teases me with a smile. “I’ll do anything you want me to do, for as long as you want me to.” I jump when she grabs my cock through my jeans. Fuck. The cabbie swerves, he can’t take his eyes off her.
“Fine.” Even as the word flies out of my mouth I can’t believe I say it.
“Thank you,” she whispers against my mouth, then tells the cabbie to take us to her place instead.
“Why are we going to your place?”
“To change, silly, I can’t go looking like this. Text Trent, let him know we’re on our way.”