CHAPTER 11HUGH
CHAPTER 11
HUGH
I was nervous.
The rage room was meant to give her something to help her process. Sitting and watching TV wasn’t working. Falling into work wasn’t helping. It was the only thing that I could think of to bring her back to center. Last night, I’d prepped for my trip so I could get in early this morning. I wanted to catch sight of her.
As we stood in her office the night before, I noticed something in her eyes. It wasn’t awe, it wasn’t surprise, it was something else. Soft and sweet, warm and open. I hadn’t ever seen her gaze at me like that before. I needed to keep that look on her face, to make her come while she gazed at me like that.
I knew what it was. It was love.
How long had we been dancing around the edges of how we felt? Did she see that expression on my face? Did my sharp edges grow soft when she watched me like that? It didn’t feel like some big, monumental shift. It just felt—right. Denise was right. She was it for me. No one else had me on my toes like this, wondering what was coming next.
I was never unsure about the future before. After my mama passed, I had to understand that there was nothing that I could do to bring the world to a stop. Everything kept going and going, and we had to carry on with it.
But this thing with Denny, I could feel her trying to bring everything to a standstill. And I knew better. She needed to start moving again. I wasn’t going to let her continue to hide away and hope that things would get better. Denise needed a push, and I was happy to give it to her because that’s what love is.
Pushing and pulling.
After last night, it was Denny’s turn. I hoped that she’d pull and prove she was mine as much as I was hers. But she had to grab onto all those moving pieces on her own. I was highlighting some documents from Zinc and scribbling notes on my pad when she appeared.
The black dress hugged her hips and pulled tight at her waist, highlighting her legs and breasts. She had her hair tied up artfully, showing off the curve of her neck and drawing my gaze to her face. I saw her phone clutched in her hand as she stepped forward and closed the door behind her. Sneakers were affixed to her feet, and I struggled to stay seated as she walked inside.
Clearing her throat, she met my eyes and my eyes fell to her lips as she took one of them between her teeth.
“Is this an okay time?” she asked tentatively. I gave a nod, and she walked over to the far end of the couch and motioned for me to sit.
I followed behind her, sitting on the far side of the couch to give her some room. I’d expected flittering, adorable Denise to run in and tell me all about her time. She was nervous and resolute, which meant we were probably going to talk. I took a breath to guard myself for our long-overdue discussion about Switch.
Clearing her throat, she fiddled with her phone in her lap before speaking.
“First. Thank you for… everything.” Her gaze rested on my eyes and her fidgeting stopped. “I’d offer to pay you back—”
“Don’t you fucking dare”
“—but I know you would hate it,” she continued, talking over me.
“That’s thing one,” she said as she flipped her phone against her palm.
“For thing two, I have a list of questions,” she said. Of course, she had a list. The woman was predictable. She opened her phone and scrolled before taking a steeling breath. Then another.
“Why now?”
My brows furrowed. I was ready to talk about the wild shit: the drugs, the felonies, the weapons… Of the millions of things that I was prepared to answer, that one wasn’t on my list.
“Why now?” I repeated, trying to figure out what this had to do with the questions she had about Switch.
She nodded and after pausing she realized I was still confused and kept talking. “We’ve been colleagues for years and bam, you’re ready to fuck me in the bathroom with a hundred important people drinking and behaving badly ten feet away. What changed?”
Another beat passed between us, and I realized she wasn’t going to fill the silence this time.
“Nothing changed,” I said as I realized I didn’t really have an answer to her question.
“Bullshit,” she countered, raising her eyebrows at me.
“I thought this was about Switch,” I said, watching as she screwed up her face in frustration.
“Fine.”
She flipped open her phone again and started rattling off questions rapid-fire.
“Have you killed anyone else?” she asked.
“No.”
“Have you gotten into any fights since Switch?”
“Of course.”
“Put anyone in the hospital?”
“No. As far as I know.” I corrected, thinking about the broken ribs I’d doled out over the years.
“When you get frustrated, what do you do?”
“Workout. Box.”
“Would you ever put your hands on me out of anger?”
She was scrolling with each question, and I grimaced. Her flippant and quick questions were throwing me off-guard, and I felt my own frustration starting to rise.
“Put hands on you? No.” I smirked as she looked up to ask her next question. “I will, however, spank your ass raw when you deserve it.”
I saw her cheeks flush as she adjusted herself on the couch and put her phone to sleep before throwing it down on the couch.
“Good. That’s out of the way.” She had the audacity to dust off her hands. “What changed?”
“Nothing changed,” I repeated. It was a lie.
“Something changed. You didn’t just follow me on a whim. What was different about that night?” her arms crossed her chest and I started to shake my head.
Before I could reply, she continued.
“It wasn’t the alcohol; we’ve been way drunker than that together. It wasn’t the clothes; we’ve done how many client parties together? I was wearing the same perfume, the same jewel—”
I reached over and grabbed her waist, pulling her closer to me as I leaned over her.
“You think this is about me getting my dick hard?” my hands at her waist tightened, and she squirmed beneath me.
“What changed?” she repeated for the umpteenth time.
My fingers tightened at her hips as I leaned closer, watching her eyes dilate.
“Tell me,” she whispered against my lips, her hands coming to rest on my chest.
“I’ve already told you,” I said.
“Then tell me again,” she insisted.
“Denise.” My words didn’t hold any heat, they couldn’t. It almost felt like I was pleading with her to let it go. I wasn’t sure she was ready to have this conversation with everything happening.
“Say it,” she brushed my nose with hers, and I closed my eyes.
“You saw me.” The words felt thick on my tongue. How could I be so honest about everything else, while struggling with three simple words that clearly didn’t make sense.
“You saw me, not just the work husband and friend, you looked at me like a man,” I said, “You weren’t ready before. So, I waited.”
“I don’t understand—”
“My bed, my home, a ring—they’re all yours. All you have to do is admit it.”
She went from confusion to shock, as she licked her lips. The tip of her tongue flittered across the seam of my lips, and I watched the breath catch in her chest.
I hadn’t mentioned it since that night—the promises that I made her. She’d never asked me about them and had probably assumed it was all heat of the moment. I needed to repeat them because she clearly didn’t get it. I’d repeat them as much as I needed to until she understood. Until she felt the words deep in the marrow of her bones. I’d fuck her until she was so cum-drunk that she could only say those words over and over.
“Admit what?” she whispered.
Her eyes dropped to my mouth as she relaxed below me. There were no traces of that tension she’d been holding tight in her shoulders and her clenched jaw. With a little satisfaction, I realized the rage room had worked.
“You’re mine.”
Rolling her eyes, she pushed at my chest, but I didn’t move.
“I like kinky shit as much as the next person, but—”
“You don’t think that you own me too?” I asked, feeling her muscles tense under me as she tried and failed to stand.
Her hands on my chest stopped pushing and she held her breath. She watched me for a long moment before shaking her head.
“I don’t want to.” She glared up at me, annoyed and frustrated.
“You don’t want to what?” I pushed.
“Own you,” she huffed, her eyes narrow and her mouth that gorgeous little annoyed pout that made my dick hard.
“You have, ever since you came into this office, barefoot and draped in chiffon. Ever since you let me spread you across that desk. And when I have you against that glass and on this couch, I’ll be yours then, too.”
Her breath caught in her chest, and I could see desire coiling there with her frustration. I brought her fingers to mine so she could feel my pulse.
“See,” I whispered, letting her feel the crazy staccato rhythm of my heart.
“Hugh…” She started and stopped. Her eyes glanced away, and I brought my fingers to her own pulse that was just as wild as mine.
“Denny…” I repeated, my voice soft.
“I'm scared. Of this, of myself, of everything.” Her voice was the smallest I had ever heard it. My fingers moved to her chin as she tried to look away again.
“I've got enough courage to share,” I replied.
Her confusion and fear were at war with something much deeper. I could feel the way her nipples pebbled against that bra through her dress. I leaned close to her and nuzzled her neck, smelling the soap on her skin as I slid my tongue across and nipped.
“You’ll get there,” I said, feeling her shudder below me as I moved my lips up to the shell of her ear.
A quick rap at the door broke my concentration as the door opened.
“Off. Off. Off,” she chanted low, pushing at my chest.
I saw Lucian smirking but respectfully averting his eyes.
“Excuse me. I need to borrow Hugh,” he said, laughter in his tone. “For, you know, business,” he added.
Denny stood, adjusting her hair. She moved around me and made eye contact with Lucian.
“Sir,” she said, her voice full of confidence, Lucian’s presence not shaking her.
“Ms. Roberts. I trust last night recharged you,” Lucian placed his hands behind his back.
“Cleo and I had a good time,” she agreed.
Lucian tilted his head for a second as if he wanted to ask her a million questions, but she turned to me.
“Would you be able to forward the contact info for Naya? I’m going to send Cleo’s portfolio over.”
Denise winked at me as she walked out the door and shut it behind her. Her smart ass mentioned Cleo to muddy the waters. Lucian heard her name, and his brain went blank. It gave her just enough time to escape to her office unscathed. Unfortunately, I wasn't as lucky.
Lucian watched me for a moment before pulling a chair from the desk and plopping down.
“She looks better. I mean, if you’re in here doing freaky shit, she must be feeling better.” His fingers drummed on the desk as I sat in my seat.
Nodding, I cleared my throat. “How can I help?”
“I need another perspective if you’ve got some time,” he said.
“Bet.” I pulled out my notepad as Lucian scooted back in his seat.