14. Reid
Chapter fourteen
Reid
The second I had her against the counter, her body soaked for me, fucking clinging to me, begging me, I should have walked away. Made her sit in a puddle of shame, to see how much power I truly had over her.
But I didn’t. And now, sitting in my office, all I could think of was her. My tongue roamed my mouth, searching for her taste, trying to chase its last remnants like a fucking addict.
I shouldn’t have given in. The burning touch of her body was still on my hands, still fucking under my skin. She was a drug I hadn’t touched in years and now suddenly it felt like I couldn’t live without it.
Her slick heat between her thighs was burned into my mind. My cock ached to be buried inside of it. I wanted more of those sounds, more of those helpless little moans that told me she was unraveling in the way I wanted, the way I fucking needed.
She thought she was strong enough to push me away… but the second I touched her she was already dripping, ready for me.
I was supposed to break her. Remind her who she left. But the second I tasted her again, all I wanted was more. More of her breath hitching when I pinned her down, her voice cracking on my name. More of that trembling, soaked mess she turned into when I touched her like no one else ever could.
And fuck.
She was still lying, pretending like it meant nothing. Sleeping next to the man who couldn’t ever give her a fraction of what I always gave. I let her walk away. But she and I both knew this was far from over.
An addict getting his drug after years away doesn’t quit cold turkey… He isn’t cured… he’s hungry for the next fix. And I was fucking starving.
The next time I had her under me?
There wouldn’t be any holding back or mercy. She would beg for me to stop, for more, for everything.
A knock on the door broke through my thoughts. I didn’t answer. Still, the door opened anyway. Alexander stepped in, planner in hand, tie slightly askew most likely from tugging at it all morning.
“You’re booked through next Friday,” he began, voice clipped. “We’ve got the preparation for the West Coast investor meeting, accounting revisions, and the press draft for the Newman restructuring launch.”
He paused, waiting for me to acknowledge him.
When I didn’t he let out a sigh. “Also, your flight dates to California are confirmed. Four nights should be enough. The Stanford team locked in their time with you the morning after you land. You’ll want the PR campaign reviewed before we touch ground. ”
I nodded slowly. “Genevieve will be accompanying us. See to it the adjustments are made to accommodate her and her son.”
Alexander blinked, the ease of the words coming out the way they did startling him just as much as they did me. “Does this have anything to do with the blood sample you requested a few days ago?”
My jaw clenched in irritation as my mind immediately went to those moments in the clinic—Eugene curled against me, grabbing my hand without hesitation, staying by my side like he fucking belonged there—to the moments in the morning I’d began to spend with him more frequently without his mother hovering.
The way the nurse had mistaken me for his father.
The way I paid closer attention to his features that he shared with me.
Sure, one could argue that he had Gregory’s as well…
but his little eyebrows of concentration, his eyes, his laugh, his blood type… all of it was mine.
I signed the form like it was nothing… but it was everything she kept from me.
Alexander never pried about my personal life. Not when his work was much more important. But the way he asked the question, I could already tell he knew the answer.
“Don’t you think you’re overstepping your role here?” I murmured, finally meeting his eyes.
He tossed the book and pen down onto the table beside him, his hands resting in his pockets as he shrugged. “You tell me.”
I didn’t say anything.
“You’ve been off,” he continued.
“I haven’t.”
“You have,” he retorted. “The Reid I know wouldn’t have made the decision to take on his family’s failing business as an asset just to prove a point.”
“Then maybe you don’t know me.”
He scoffed. “I know you’re still not over what happened… still not over her.”
“Stating the obvious doesn’t do anything,” I argued.
“And you think finding out if you’re that kid’s father does?”
I didn’t say anything in response.
Alexander let out a sigh. “Let’s say you get the confirmation,” he continued. “He’s yours. She lied. Then what?”
“Then I make things right…”
“Publicly claiming your half-brother’s supposed son and reclaiming his fiancée for yourself makes for bad press, guaranteed.”
“I don’t care about the press.”
Alexander gave a short humorless laugh. “That’s what you say now. Wait until they drag your name through shit again. Every headline, every article—”
“I said I don’t care.”
“Going to these lengths can’t just be about revenge. If that kid is yours, what game are you playing? Nobody wins. You can’t just claim the title of being his father. You can’t just claim her.”
“You don’t think I know that?” I gritted out. “That’s not what I want.”
But Alexander’s words held the truth my mind ghosted over. It didn’t rationalize that part. Didn’t register that I probably couldn’t get what I wanted. But that didn’t matter.
“At this point, I don’t even think you know what the fuck you want.” His voice was sharper now. “You want to make her life a living hell but fill the role of the missing father in her kid’s life. Punish her for lying, push her away, but keep her next to you and in your bed at the same time.”
His words landed like a slap to the face.
He was right. And I hated how fucking right he was.
“I’m not asking for your fucking opinion,” I said eventually, voice low.
“Didn’t realize I needed permission to give it,” Alexander muttered, crossing his arms.
Despite how good the fucker was at his job, he had pretty much always been a smartass when given ample opportunity. Only person able to tolerate me and my work.
“You’re spiraling, Reid. This isn’t about control, revenge or leverage. It’s about her.”
“I know it’s fucking about her,” I practically seethed. Every fucking thing had been about her. Every breath I took, thought I’d had, every single time I closed my eyes. It had always been about her.
“As your assistant, I will make the adjustments to have her on board with us… but as your friend, Reid… you need to think about these decisions. They may just lead to you being hurt again.”
Hurt.
I’d been hurt in the past, and I was probably hurting in this moment. For the last few years, that word had described how I’d felt every time I fucking thought about what they did to me.
I didn’t respond just yet, as my eyes drifted past him in thought to the glass wall of my office. And there she was.
Genevieve.
Walking past, spine perfectly straight, pretending she didn’t feel the heat of my stare on her skin. Like she wasn’t haunted by the memory of my hands between her legs, my name in her throat, my mouth on every inch of her body.
She wore a deep navy wrap dress. The kind that came undone with one tug.
Low-cut but modest enough, tied at the center, hugging her body like a fucking glove. Soft at the waist, tempting even. Easy to remove. Easier to bend her over in.
Something twisted low in my gut as I watched her hips sway effortlessly before she disappeared from my view. It was addictive. Dangerous even.
Maybe Alexander was right. I would be taking things too far.
But I didn’t care. She chose to hurt me. She watched them bury me and didn’t fucking flinch.
So now? She could drown in every consequence, face every grave she fucking dug herself into.
My jaw clenched. “I’ve already decided,” I said, voice low. “Add her to the agenda.”
Alexander looked like he wanted to respond, but in the end, he only exhaled a breath as he decided not to push further. He just nodded, turning toward the door to leave.