10. Harrison
10
HARRISON
I ’ve never found a deal as challenging as the woman sitting in the passenger seat of my car.
“Leni sent me specs, but I must be reading them wrong. All the industry standards are sold out?”
“Correct.”
“But if you don’t get the best, you’ll lose talent,” she finishes. “DJs won’t want to play.”
“It’ll take another three months to get the standard installed. The cost in lost revenues is too high. Do you know how much a club like that will make every night it’s open?”
“It’ll hold two thousand people. Cover, drinks…” She runs through multiple facets of my business and drops a number at the end that’s startlingly accurate.
I nearly groan.
Listening to her talk business is sexy.
Which is fucked up because we’re talking about how screwed my club is.
“I need to make this work,” I mutter. “I will force my way up the supplier list. Find a pressure point and press on it. Whatever Leni did, I’ll double down.”
“Come on, you didn’t ask me to weigh in because you wanted an audience to how you’ll go all ‘tough guy.’ We need to get creative.”
I glance at her as we stop at a light. “This isn’t MacGyver. I can’t use a roll of duct tape and some toilet paper rolls to make a sound system for a high-end venue.”
“But venues used other setups before this one was available,” she argues. “Hell, you have others in your clubs.”
She runs through them while I listen.
Rae is making it difficult to focus. Tonight, she’s dressed in the heels from earlier, plus ripped jeans that hug every curve of her legs and hips, a black T-shirt, and oversized sunglasses. She could be a student going to class at UCLA, her hair pulled back in a high ponytail that tickles the headrest of the car when she turns to look at me.
I stare out the windshield as I navigate traffic, but all I’m picturing is twisting that hair around my hand while she comes on my cock.
“What about Blaze?”
I blink. “What’s Blaze?”
“The club in Venice Beach. It closed not too long ago, and I heard it’s getting sold off and converted into stores.”
“You think there’s a chance of getting their audio equipment.”
“Has to go somewhere.” She shrugs. “I could ask.”
“Thank you.” I read far too much into the fact that she’s offering.
She’s smart and beautiful. My own damn kryptonite.
It’ll be easier when we get to the exclusive beachfront restaurant. A white linen tablecloth between us will keep me civilized.
When we arrive, there’s no sign of the valet. I curse, and we park half a dozen blocks away.
“It’s fine,” Rae says. “Let’s walk on the beach.”
Most women I’ve dated would have pouted at having to walk, but she sounds as if she prefers it.
“Coming around to the idea of being seen with me?” I murmur as I hold her door.
“There are worse things.”
“When was the last time a man you fucked, or wanted to, took you out for dinner?”
Rae considers as she starts down the sidewalk next to me. I get the feeling she’s weighing something bigger than an offhand comment.
“Never.”
It’s my turn to be stunned.
“That would require someone to ask me,” she goes on, “and for me to say yes.”
“Endless complexity,” I say dryly, but I’m fascinated. “Let’s start simple. You tell me what’s bothering you. I fix it, or use noncommittal male vocalizations to empathize.”
She laughs, and the sound pleases me long after her smile fades once more. “I approached Wild Fest about a spot next spring. One of the recruiters is coming to my show next weekend in Long Beach. It would be a huge deal. They’ve never had a DJ headline who wasn’t in the top twenty of Billboard’s Top 100 DJ list.”
We start down the concrete steps to the beach.
“I’ve met the cofounders. I could?—”
“Don’t you dare intervene for me,” she says. “I need to do this on my own.”
“Even if it was partly my fault your career was hindered? For the record, I don’t feel an ounce of guilt,” I go on. “The media will watch you and judge you as if it’s their job. Your job is to live your life.”
I take the last three steps to the beach as Raegan pauses to pull off her heels. When she straightens, I take advantage of her busy hands to lift her by the waist and set her on the sand in front of me. She’s close enough her body brushes mine through our clothes.
“Just because you can do something yourself doesn’t mean you should.” I skim my hand around to her ass and squeeze lightly. She sways closer, and I bend my lips to her ear. “Goes for all manner of things, love.”
When I step back, her eyes are nearly black.
We’re surrounded by people, but I wish we were alone.
I want to run my fingers down between her legs, see if she’s wet.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she murmurs.
With every taste of her, I only want more.
It’s startling and unnerving.
Rae’s attention drifts past me, and I turn to see a food stand, half a dozen patrons clad in swimming trunks and casual wear waiting to order. I want to recoil on instinct, but she doesn’t look away.
Fuck me .
“You want tacos.” The three words land heavy in my gut.
“No.” Rae turns back, pasting on a quick, false smile I never want to see again. “The restaurant is fine.”
I’ve never been with a woman who didn’t want the most elegant things I could give her. Rae’s differences are challenging to understand, but I want to try.
That’s why I pull out my phone.
“What are you doing?” she demands.
“Texting the concierge to cancel.” When I’m done, I hold out a hand for her shoes. “If we’re going to eat at a restaurant with a queue, at least I can carry these for you like a gentleman.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Too damn bad.”
She hands them over, but the wry shake of her head has me frowning as we take our spot at the end of the queue.
What is she saying—no one’s ever been a gentleman with her?
Fuck.
“No more shop talk tonight,” I decide, and she arches a brow.
“That a rule?”
“Yes. Besides, you might have already solved the equipment problem.”
She grins, and I can’t help but return it.
I want to show her something different.
We order tacos and find a spot to sit on the beach. Before Rae can sit, I spot a beach hut where I can purchase a towel embroidered with crabs so we can eat without getting sand in our food. Ash would piss himself laughing if he could see me now. We talk about all kinds of things.
“Most embarrassing moment?” I ask.
“A show in New York during arts school. I was mixing from my notebook, and it tried to run an update installation midcycle.”
I laugh silently.
“What about you? I have a hard time picturing you embarrassed.”
“Fuck, there are loads,” I insist, scanning my memories. “Oh. Initiation the first year of boarding school, we were at the beach, and some other boys stole my swimsuit. I had to walk back to the dorms with a piece of food wrap”—I hold up the paper from my taco—“to cover myself and explain to the headmaster why I was out without a uniform.”
Her shoulders rock with laughter. The humiliation was worth it for this one moment.
“Favorite TV show?” she asks once she’s recovered.
“ Great British Bake Off .”
“You’re lying.”
“Am not,” I insist. “And if you so much as think of telling another human, you won’t live long enough to do it. What’s yours?”
“ South Park .”
I shake my head. “Unbelievable.”
“That I like a cartoon?”
“Mhmm.”
No. That I’m falling for a woman who likes a cartoon. I finish my taco, mostly managing to avoid dropping coleslaw on the sand.
“Proudest moment?” she asks me.
I don’t have to think about it. “I’ve bought my share of venues, but I was twenty-five when I opened the first one I built from scratch. The moment we turned on the sign and those lights lit up the night, I swear I could feel my parents watching me. It was the first time I felt as if I was doing the right thing.”
Rae studies me without blinking. “Well, that’s intense. What was it called?”
“Brillante.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t name it something more personal.”
“It never occurred to me,” I say honestly. “Would you have? You never stay in one place long enough for anything to become personal.”
“If it was a building, brick and mortar… I think I would.”
I turn that over before asking my next question. “Most awkward sexual encounter?”
Rae knocks over her drink with a knee, cursing as she rights it. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
So, I change the subject, but I’m still wondering why that simple question threw off our conversation.
“I’ve never been to the beach in LA,” I admit as I reach for the mineral water I bought.
“Seriously? How many times have you come here?”
“Dozens.”
“Huh. I’m glad I can give you a first.”
I reach a hand out to lift her chin. Then I lean in and brush my lips across hers.
She tastes like her soda, and I want to drink her dry. I want to lay her back on this towel and strip off her clothes and show her how fucking exquisite she is.
Instead, I allow her to finish her dinner before I walk her back to the car.
“Aren’t we going back to your place?” she asks when I drive us away from my side of the city.
“No.”
She looks over in surprise. “Why not?”
I’m torn between a laugh and a groan. “You’ve never had a gentleman. I wanted to give you a first too.”
Her eyes soften in the twilight, and I grab onto that as my hands clench the steering wheel. She flicks on the radio, humming to the music as we drive.
I’ve never had someone I can coexist with. But her, right here… it feels surprisingly right.
Except for the blood diverted below my belt at the sound of her voice or any time I glance at her.
When I pull up to Beck’s gates and put the car in park, she turns to face me.
“You can come in. But you can’t stay ov?—“
“No.”
She blinks at me in surprise.
Her palm slides down my chest, rubbing across my erection through my pants. My body leaps under her touch. “You still want to be a gentleman?”
She’s teasing me. I like seeing her empowered.
No.
“Yes.”
Her hand threads through mine as she tugs me toward her.
I follow her lead, mostly because I have no idea what she’s planning.
When she works open the button and fly of her jeans and slides my hand inside, I swallow my tongue.
She’s slick and ready for anything I might wish to do to her. Knowing she was getting turned on by our conversation, by simply spending time together, blows my mind.
I rub a slow circle over her clit beneath her underwear, and her eyelids fall to half-mast as she arches against my touch.
“I want to see you tomorrow,” I mutter.
Rae squirms, a noise of tortured pleasure escaping her lips before she answers, “No.”
The fuck?
My fingers slip inside her heat.
First one, then a second.
My cock chafes against the zipper of my trousers. “The next day.”
I could be free of these trousers in a minute. Inside her in two. Making her scream my name loudly enough her smug roommate can hear.
But I want to show her she means more to me than sex. I want her to trust me, to know that I want more of her. I want all of her.
“I’m busy this week,” she pants, gripping my wrist as I slowly pump her with my fingers. “Working on this set.”
She’s letting me in physically but pushing me away emotionally.
I can’t use my normal approach of pinning her down. Brute force does nothing with this woman. She turns to vapor.
It takes everything in me to withdraw my hand, leaving behind her sweet, tight heat. “I’m going to add you to my calendar. You look at it and let me know when you’re available.”
If it takes her more than three damn days, I’ll be back over here. But I don’t say that.
Raegan blinks in surprise, shoving at a chunk of hair that’s fallen out of her ponytail. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“I know exactly what I’m missing.” I suck her off my fingers, and her jaw drops. “And what I got tonight is worth even more.”
My balls ache the entire way home.