Destined To Fall (Reluctant lovers #1)

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty-One

My apartment door slams closed, and I slide to the floor. So utterly fucked. Drained in every way possible. The entire ride home in the cab, my mind was reeling. Reliving so many conversations, so many innuendos, nothing to even hint he ’ d never done the deed, but so many damn opportunities to spill. Why the fuck didn ’ t he tell me before?

The groan that escapes me is so loud it reverberates throughout my silent apartment, slapping me in the face with my anguish. I can ’ t stay here. I need to leave.

Pulling out my cell, I dial the first, the only number I can at this point.

“ Vivienne? ”

“ Hi, Maxwell.”

“ Is everything all right? You don ’ t usually call. Actually, I don ’ t think you ’ ve ever called.”

“ I know, and I ’ m sorry, but, well, I was wondering. Are you free?”

“ Free? ”

“ Yes, tonight. Do you fancy blowing off some steam with me?”

He ’ s quiet on the other end of the line, no doubt as perplexed as I am that I called him.

“ What the hell.”

I hold in my sigh of relief. “ Excellent. How quickly can you get ready?”

At this he laughs hard. “ How quickly can you?”

“ Pick me up in thirty?”

“ I ’ ll see you then, Candy .”

I chuckle and hang up the phone. Hauling my ass up, I run to my walk-in and throw together my costume. I ’ m putting the finishing touches on my face when my doorman, George, buzzes my apartment.

“ Hey, George, I ’ ll be right down.”

Stuffing my cell and keys into my tiny little clutch, I hurry downstairs. But the second the elevator doors open, my heart freezes and plummets.

It ’ s Jeremy. Standing in the middle of the foyer.

Fuck .

“ I can ’ t do this. You need to leave.” I say in a rush, heading past him to the glass doors and freedom.

“ Nice wig, but a terrible disguise. I ’ d know you anywhere.”

“ Jeremy, please. Not now.”

“ I ’ m not leaving until we talk.”

“ I ’ m working tonight. You can ’ t be here.”

“ Oh, you are? Convenient, seeing as you were just at my apartment not twenty minutes ago and had been in no hurry to leave at one point. This is crazy. You don ’ t need to do this.”

I spin back to face him. “ This is what I do. This is who I am.”

“ That ’ s not what I meant, and you know it. But this isn ’ t who you are. What we do never defines who we are, Viv. I thought you, of all people , would understand that. You ’ re more than a cheap whore.”

“ You ’ re right. I ’ m a fucking expensive whore. I don ’ t come cheap. Ever.”

He looks contrite, but his face shifts to something sterner, his mouth turning up at the corner.

“ So what was that in my apartment? A free pass?”

“ I…”

“ And the time before? I didn ’ t even have to touch you…”

He steps forward, bridging the gap between us, and I hate the way my body is responding to him. It ’ s pulsating with unadulterated need, bursting to feel his flesh on mine. Still. After everything he confessed.

“ Don ’ t.”

“ And the club…” He steps closer, right into my personal space.

I suck in a shaky breath. The memory of his hands on me—in me—is still so raw, still so vibrant.

“ Nope. We ’ re not doing this. You can ’ t, remember? You won ’ t.”

“ And you won ’ t give this a chance, us a chance.”

“ Us? Ha. How can I? What kind of—”

“ Relationship?”

He makes me want to scream in frustration. “ I don ’ t date. Stop trying to make me something I ’ m not. ”

“ Wait.”

I spin on my heels, but before I can step forward, Jeremy grabs my hand, tugging me back around, causing me to crash into his chest. Whatever he was about to say dies on his tongue as we ’ re both caught off guard and a little thrown by the sudden proximity.

Stunned and silent, our chests rise and fall fast against each other, but before I can do something stupid like close the distance, Jeremy beats me to it. Taking my face roughly in his hands, he pulls my mouth to his, crushing his lips to mine in an all-consuming kiss.

“ Stop.” I break away, twisting my face from his and pushing at his chest, desperate for breathing room, but he doesn ’ t budge. “ You ’ re breaking all the rules.”

I hate the frustrated, desperate look in his eyes more than I hate him and myself right now. It ’ s screaming at me, bleeding into me, but it morphs right in front of my eyes. His gaze moves to something behind me, and my heart stills, watching as the confusion and fury take over.

“ Tell me you ’ re not still working with my father, Vivienne. Tell me he ’ s not your client tonight.”

“ I can ’ t do that.”

A vise wraps around my heart, squeezing the life out of me. I take two steps back, Jeremy ’ s burning gaze returning to me.

“ You lied?”

“ I ’ ve never lied.”

“ Bullshit. Omitting is the same thing.” I shake my head, taking another step back. “ Tell me the truth.”

“ You know I can ’ t do that.”

“ Vivienne. ”

“ No. Stop hounding me and go home, Jeremy. We ’ re done. This—” I wave my hand between us—”is done.” I walk off, a frustrated tear trickling down my cheek as I make my way out the glass doors to Max ’ s town car.

“ Vivienne! ”

I don ’ t turn back but quicken my steps until I ’ m jumping in the car before he can come after me.

“ Drive!”

“ Vivienne, what ’ s going on?” Max questions, but blessedly signals for us to move.

He looks perplexed, but not angry. Oh my god, did he not see Jeremy? Thank fuck for that.

“ Just some guy making me uncomfortable. It ’ s fine. George will handle it. You look sharp.”

“ This old thing? So, where are we going?” he says, seemingly content with my brush-off.

“ Puerto Rico? ” Max full-belly laughs, the sound so similar to Jeremy ’ s, I ’ m overwhelmed with the desire to burst into tears. “ I don ’ t care where. You decide. Just anywhere that ’ s not here.”

Max ’ s grin falls, and he looks at me hard, some sort of understanding washing over his face before he nods.

“ Your wish is my command, m ’ lady.”

I stumble out of Max ’ s town car a little drunk, a little wired, and a whole lot empty.

“ Do you need a hand upstairs?”

“ No, don ’ t be silly, I ’ m a pro. ” I laugh at my own stupid joke, making Max shake his head, his eyes grinning.

“ Yes, you are, but I can still help you up—”

“ I ’ ll take it from here, Dad .”

Every muscle in my body freezes, my back going ramrod-straight as Jeremy steps up behind me.

“ I thought you said you weren ’ t sleeping with my son, Vivienne. What the hell is he doing here at one in the morning?”

“ No one is sleeping with your son, Maxwell. Relax. I don ’ t know what he ’ s still doing here.”

“ Still? ”

“ Jesus, Viv. Really?”

“ I didn ’ t mean either of those. I ’ m drunk. And I ’ m going to bed . Alone. All you Thatcher men are going home. Good night.” I say as firmly and as soberly as I can.

I lean forward, whispering a thank you for tonight, and slap the passenger door closed in Max ’ s face before turning on my heels and marching into my apartment building. One of the Thatcher men got the hint. The other did not.

“ I can ’ t believe you just said that. Why would you do that?”

“ He thought we were sleeping together, and we ’ re not. Besides, I doubt he ’ ll think anything of it. I ’ m very drunk. Why are you following me? Go home.”

“ I ’ ve seen you very drunk, and nothing crosses your lips unless you want it to.”

He ’ s got me there.

“ I didn ’ t mean it to come out like that. I guess I ’ m still pissy about the bomb you dropped on me out of nowhere.”

“ Pissy? What the hell do you have to be pissy about?” He grabs my arm, stopping me from getting in the elevator. “ I ’ m the one you walked out on, twice, after I told you something I ’ ve never told anyone.”

“ I know! But how did you expect me to react? You ’ ve been lying to me this whole time.”

“ I ’ ve never lied to you.”

“ Omitting is the same thing, Mr. Kettle.” That makes him grin for a second before it falls and he ’ s somber again. “ Why didn ’ t you tell me?”

“ Probably for this reason.” I don ’ t know how to respond to that, so I say nothing. “ How do you tell a…a…”

“ Whore? ”

“ A sex maniac ,”— this makes me laugh hard—”that you ’ re a grown-ass man and have never had intercourse?” My nose wrinkles at his choice of words, making him laugh. “ I ’ m not a saint, Vivienne. I ’ ve had other kinds of sex.”

And I ’ m right back at the club. Fuck .

“ That hardly un-saints you, Jer. But this is all moot. It ’ s late, I ’ m exhausted, and we don ’ t do this anymore, remember?”

“ You can ’ t end a friendship because you ’ re mad. It doesn ’ t work like that.”

“ The hell it doesn ’ t. It takes two to tango, smartass.”

“ We ’ re not dancing.”

“ Ughhhhh.”

I storm off, blessedly finding the elevator waiting. I hurry in and bash the close button repeatedly, willing the doors to shut before Jeremy strolls in. But fate or whatever is against me, and I ’ m slapped with d é jà vu when his arm slips between the doors, making them ping open.

“ Can ’ t you take a hint? Go away!”

“ No. I said I ’ m not leaving until we talk.”

“ Fine. You have until the elevator opens. Talk fast.”

“ You ’ re still working with my father? Have you been working with him this whole time?”

I say nothing, and he glowers.

“ What exactly has my father been asking about us?”

“ Like I told him, and like I ’ ve told you, there is no us.”

“ So, what, I just came up in pillow talk?”

“ What?”

“ You know, after sex. Pillow talk.” He says it so casually, like that ’ s going to trip me up and make me spill all.

“ Pillow talk? Really? Jesus.”

“ Just answer the question.”

“ I haven ’ t told him a fucking thing. There is nothing to tell, for fuck ’ s sake, and do not continue with that train of thought, Jeremy. You know where it leads.”

The elevator stops and the doors open, but before I step out, I press the lobby button. Yet , of course Jeremy dismisses this and follows me out.

“ I need answers, Viv.”

“ You know I can ’ t give them to you. Please, stop fucking asking.”

“ I ’ ll play you for them.”

At this I turn around. “ What?”

He pulls out a deck of cards, and my eyes narrow. “ What is with you Thatcher men?” I mutter to myself, my eyes going wide when I realize I said it aloud. “ You always walk around Boston with a pack of playing cards in your pocket?”

“ What did you say? And no, I got bored waiting for you and saw them at the corner store.”

“ Nothing. This is ridiculous.”

“ How so?”

“ What, we play some silly game, you win, and I spill all the dirty secrets you ’ ve been trying to drag out of me for months?” He nods. “ But you have nothing to give me when I win.”

He raises his eyebrows at that, one corner of his mouth curling up.

“ Nothing? I ’ ve got nothing to offer you, nothing you want from me?” My heart stutters, and my ability to form words goes out the window. “ Yes. ”

That one word completely corrupts me.

I swallow the lump in my throat, my heart now racing. “ You? ”

“ You win, you get me. All of me.”

I can ’ t help the turn of my lips that follows. “ Any way I want?”

He laughs, easing the tension, and arches his brows, leaning in close. “ I ’ ll let you do things to me no one else ever has. I ’ ll give you exactly what you ’ ve wanted since you first met me.”

“ Cocky, much? You ’ re pretty sure of yourself.” I resist the urge to add for a virgin .

“ You ’ re going to deny it?”

“ God, no. ” I grin.

“ So that ’ s a yes?”

The misplaced hope in his voice gives me pause, and I purse my lips, contemplating all my options. I don ’ t have many. This is possibly the only way I ’ m going to get him to stop harassing me for answers. And let ’ s be honest, I can ’ t lose, even in my inebriated state. I know all of Jeremy ’ s tells. He ’ s one of the easiest people to read I ’ ve ever met. He ’ s so honest and open and decent. Do I really want to take his V-card? He ’ s had his reasons for keeping it so long and so guarded. I might not get his reasoning, like at all, but I can respect it—well, him. Ugh . He ’ s basically offering himself up on a silver platter, and I ’ m supposed to turn that down because I know better and have morals? I should laugh and close my door in his face.

“ Game on.” Well, shit. “Dealer ’ s choice.”

“ Straight-up poker?”

“ Fine.”

I open my door and wave him in. God, this is going to be like taking candy from a baby. He ’ s fucked. Or about to be. My spine tingles at the thought of getting him naked and under me.

“ We going to make this interesting?”

“ More interesting than we already have? You do realize we ’ re playing for my—”

“ V-card? Man card? ”

It ’ s Jeremy ’ s turn to swallow hard. “ How does it get more interesting than that?”

“ Strip poker. ”

His eyes go wide, and a blush stains his cheeks. God, he ’ s adorable.

“ I figured if ,”— when —“I win, we may appreciate the extra stimulation. Foreplay, if you will. You are familiar with the term, yes?”

His eyes narrow. “ If my memory serves me correctly, your body is well aware I ’ m familiar with foreplay.”

Jeremy hits his target, and my blood burns, but I manage to fight the urge to squeeze my thighs together. He smirks all the same.

I watch as Jeremy takes a seat opposite me across the coffee table and starts shuffling the cards . It ’ s mesmerizing. The more I stare, the more time slows, his fingers moving in slow motion as they glide with ease over the cards. The hairs on the back of my neck rise with my growing awareness and the realization that we ’ re doing this. Playing for his virginity.

I try to let that settle in my mind while Jeremy deals, but it doesn ’ t seem to be sticking. All night I ’ ve been struggling with the fact that Jeremy is a virgin and not just celibate. I don ’ t understand why. The thought of him not having sex at all was a struggle ; never mind the prospect he ’ d never had sex, ever.

Something must have changed on my face because Jeremy pauses his dealing and looks at me hard, his gaze narrowing and his forehead furrowing.

“ Drink? ”

Feeling way too sober for this, I pour myself a very large tumbler of scotch and turn to catch Jeremy ’ s look of need for the amber liquid glistening in my glass.

“ Same.”

I turn back in time to hide my grin, fix his drink, and place them on the coffee table before plopping myself onto the floor opposite him.

“ What were you thinking just then?”

“ You can ’ t know everything all the time, Jer. That ’ s not how private thoughts work. It ’ s a free space.” I wiggle a brow, and his lips purse.

“ I thought we were being more open and honest here.”

I laugh. “ You haven ’ t won yet. No answers for you.”

“ Right. What are the rules, then?”

“ Every time you win a hand, I take a piece of clothing off, and vice versa.”

Jeremy looks at all I ’ m wearing, and his eyebrows narrow.

“ Lose the wig.”

“ Ah, no. ”

“ You have more items on than I do.”

I do the math in my head, and sadly , he ’ s right. “ Fine.” I throw it at him, and it sits kinda askew on his head, making me fall back and laugh.

“ Let ’ s get this over with.”

“ So quick to get naked?”

“ Oh, you think you ’ re that good?”

“ Mmm, no, I think you ’ re going to be that bad.” He glares, but it softens when he bites the corner of his lip, and I can almost read the thoughts in his head. “ At poker, Jer. I ’ m sure you ’ re going to be fine at the sex.”

“ Yeah, yeah. Check your cards, woman.”

“ I ’ ll take two, please.”

Jeremy deals, and my face doesn ’ t move a millimeter, but inside I ’ m grinning. Full house right off the bat.

“ I ’ ll take…hmm, three.” His nose twitches. He ’ s got squat.

“ Okay, we ’ re not betting, so one round, right?”

“ Right. So, who goes first?”

Now this is the question. Do I go first and win, or do I let Jeremy go first, let him think he ’ s won, and pull the rug out from him later? Decisions .

“ You first.”

Jeremy grins like the cat that caught the mouse, laying down a straight. “ Beat that.”

“ Well, I ’ ll be. I guess I can ’ t beat that with my two pair…” I show him my cards, carefully tucking the extra six that would have given me a full house and the upper hand, and place them face-down on the discard pile.

“ Ha. Now strip.”

The satisfaction on his face is worth forfeiting my hand. I ’ m unlikely to see it much tonight. Well, not until later, that is. I shift so I can better take a shoe off, but Jeremy stops me.

“ That ’ s a pussy strip. A shoe, really?”

“ Would you rather I play in my underwear from the get-go? Because all I ’ ve got left to take off is my dress.”

“ Ah …”

“ Exactly.”

“ Fine.”

“ Wait. You want something?” He raises a brow as I maneuver my bra off under my dress, then toss it at him.

“ I ’ ll never get over how women can do that. It is impressive.”

“ I think it ’ s one of those skills we ’ re all just born with. My deal?” He nods, and I deal out.

We go on like this for a few hands. Jeremy loses his shirt on the next round, and I down half my whiskey to stop from drooling on my Persian rug. My shoes were next to go, as were his and his socks. By our tenth or eleventh game, Jer is down to his pants.

“ Time ’ s a ticking.”

And with that, his pants hit the pile, and I forget how to breathe.

“ Your ass is still mine, Viv.”

“ You say this, but your ass is the one that ’ s practically on display. Deal the cards, Jer.”

He fumbles with the cards, and I titter to myself. The joke ’ s on me, though. I ’ m so damn distracted, I discard the wrong cards and end up losing.

“ Ha! ”

“ Just for that…”

I slip my lacy thong off and throw it at his face, my dress riding dangerously high up my thighs, the slits now up to my hip bones.

Jer swallows hard, his gaze zeroing in on the skin showing and his hands crushing my underwear in his fingers. The energy in the room shifts, supercharging and burning with sexual tension. Jeremy ’ s eyes meet mine, and I ’ m slammed with the strongest visual. Him knocking the table out of the way ; me straddling him, slipping his boxers down, and sinking home.

My mouth goes dry as I watch Jeremy stand in slow motion, my eyes fixing to the taut V and the now-predominant bulge it leads to.

“ Wait.” It comes out strangled, loud, and a little weird, my breaths ragged and strange.

Fuck, what am I doing?

The uncertain, nervous look on his face undoes me, slapping me with the biggest reality check.

“ I can ’ t do this. We can ’ t do this.” I squeeze out the words, my chest too tight, picking his clothes up in one giant, messy bundle and practically hurling them at him before dragging him to my front door.

“ Vivienne, wait. What are you doing?” I turn around, immediately wishing I hadn ’ t. The lost, broken look on Jeremy ’ s face will haunt me. “ Please, don ’ t—”

I shove him out the door and close it before I can hear another word, still unable to take a full breath in.