Chapter Fifteen
Emerson
G lass.
Lots of it. Everywhere.
Fractured into countless pieces, reflecting like a chaotic dance before cascading to the surfaces.
Each shard seemed to sparkle momentarily before settling into a scattered mess on the floor and countertop.
I stilled, the surprise of the shattering holding me frozen in captivity as I stared blankly at the beautiful but deadly particles blanketing like snow around my feet.
Goddammit.
I wasn’t ordinarily considered a clumsy person, but the warmth of Orion’s attention on my skin seemed to have that effect. He always watched me with this overwhelming intensity that seemed to render my self-awareness mute. Even without so much as uttering a word, he had a way of inviting my fantasies down untrodden paths, fantasies of what his touch would feel like on other parts of my body. Consequences be damned.
“Shit, Emmy,” his voice pierced through the sense of disbelief, forcing me out of my foggy haze. I could hear the crunch of glass beneath his shoes as he made his way to me.
Shoes. That would have been a sensible idea.
By the time I plucked up the courage to dare a look at him, his firm grip was already deep-seated on my waist and he was lifting me onto the kitchen island, heaving me up like my weight was insignificant to him.
“I’m fine,” I demanded, my gaze following him as he stormed through the kitchen units like a raging torpedo, disrupting everything in its blind rage.
His attention was elsewhere, but I knew the disgruntled shake of his head was directed at me.
“You’re bleeding,” he mumbled, annoyance sharp in his voice like my being hurt was his problem. Though I hadn’t missed the softer edge to his tone, and if it was anyone else, I’d have mistaken it for a hint of concern.
This was his fault, anyway. He distracted me.
I glanced at my hand and realized he was right; a painful-looking gash sliced its way through my index finger, prompting my crimson blood to spill out of the wound.
Huh, I didn’t even realize.
Just when I was about to ask what he was looking for, he spun towards me with a first aid kit in his hands. His brows were pinched together as he set the kit down beside me, opening it up and searching for whatever it was he thought he needed.
The concern on his face was so contradictory to his usual permanent scowl, I found myself overcome with the insatiable need to reach out and poke him, as though to check if he was real and confirm I wasn’t in a dream. It was a far cry from the man who had spent the last week avoiding my existence.
We hadn’t spoken since I walked in on him in the shower and—
Nope, not going there.
He reached for a tissue, positioned himself between my thighs, and glided the material along my skin, his brows furrowed and his lips in a hard line, the embodiment of concertation.
I hadn’t realized I was squirming until his rough voice rang in my ears. “Quit moving.”
I froze with a hard swallow, scared to shuffle even an inch in fear of being reprimanded, and then, as he set down the crimson-stained wipe beside me, he did something so incredibly unexpected I could feel my heart physically stop beating if only for a moment.
He gently lifted my injured finger and brought it to his mouth. I licked my dry lips, my body rigid and powerless, so entranced by the act I could hardly think straight.
“What—” though the words died on my tongue when his warm, wet mouth wrapped around my finger and sucked on the wound, ensuring any shards of glass had long left my skin.
I hissed through my teeth, wincing from the sharp sting of the contact. But the sting quickly dissipated into electric sparks shooting along my finger from the way his masterful tongue swirled around my sensitive skin. They spread over my arm, cascading from my head to my toes, eliciting an involuntary gasp to break free from my lips.
My jaw hung agape as I watched him suck on my finger like it was the most delicious lollipop he’d ever tasted. An appreciative hum vibrated through his chest, sending a red-hot surge of arousal to my core, and there was no stopping my nipples from hardening in response.
My heart was pumping double-time, my breathing labored with both trepidation and anticipation. My blood burned hotter with every stroke of his skilled tongue, and I was sure the reflection of that was evident in the flush of my cheeks.
Despite the pounding in my chest and the tingles of alarm traveling down my spine, I couldn’t look away. Instead, I found myself letting my eyes wander over the intricate details of his face.
Beyond the sharp cheekbones and the leather-cutting jawline, my attention seemed to be glued to the sinuous scar rooted into the depths of his forehead before descending into the dark bush of his left brow.
I always noticed the mystery suffocating the air around Orion. Paired with the predatory expression that seemed to be permanently fixed on his face and the brutality of the threats he sprouted, I assumed there was far more danger lurking in the shadows of the Fortune 500 businessman than he was given credit for. His scar seemed to be a confirmation of that fact, proving my assumption right.
Just who are you, Orion De Luca?
Then our eyes locked, and our heartbeats crashed against each other like two colossal waves in the mass of a hurricane, colliding with one another until they fell into a steady conjoined rhythm.
My finger was still confined in the warmth of his mouth, his smoky eyes darkened like the epitome of Hell. And all I could do was drown in them as I silently prayed he would drag me down with him.
The heavy tension smothered the air between us, the silence so deafening it had my temple throbbing, before settling on the shards of glass still scattered along the floor like snowflakes on an icy winter night.
He carefully released my finger, drawing it out of the warmth of his lips so painfully slow the apprehension in my core only worsened. He placed my hand softly on my knee, and the skin tingled with heat from the memory of his mouth.
He hovered over me, his height absorbing me into his ungodly shadow, and his palms rested on either side of me, gripping the edge of the countertop as if to restrain himself. He leaned closer, close enough for his woody scent to drown me in the delicious notes of sandalwood, and a shiver descended my spine when his knuckle accidentally brushed against my thigh.
My fingers tingled with the need to reach out and trace the details of his features, to grip the collar of his black Armani shirt and pull him close enough to feel the warmth of his breath fan against my lips.
The intensity in his stormy eyes stopped me, silently ordering me to simply follow his lead. But those damn sunburst eyes, they were locked on me with such heated hunger I wondered how I hadn’t been reduced to a pile of ashes. He was watching me the way a predator would stalk his prey, and it was taking everything I had to remember to breathe.
And that was when I noticed it, there was something else riding alongside the desire, something resembling a struggle. As though he was fighting against the pull between us, almost straining himself to hold back.
“Orion,” I breathed, my lust for him laced in the edges of my voice.
My tongue darted out to swipe my lower lip, aiming to add moisture to my otherwise dry mouth, and I didn’t miss the way his Miami Cuban Chain bobbed with the gulp of his throat.
“Shh, Tesoro.”
He leaned closer, his lips a hair’s breadth away from mine and I could practically taste his peppermint gum on my tongue. My heart shot into a tailspin, and I could feel my pulse vibrating through my chest, threatening to obliterate like a nuclear bomb.
One beat. Two beats. Three beats.
We remained tangled in a heated web of tension, hanging onto our sanity the best we could as we contemplated pressing the big button between us that would change everything as we knew it. Like a volcano, bubbling beneath the surface in readiness for sheer mass destruction.
Everything around me melted away, my breathing erratic, and just when I thought he was finally going to give in and pull my lips between his, the penny seemed to drop. He squeezed his eyes shut and released a frustrated, exasperated groan.
“ Minchia, Atlas,” he seethed, his jaw hardening. When he opened his eyes again, they returned to the cold hazel-gray eyes they were before. Sharp and icy, like the rest of his features.
He spared me a hard glance, and a gripping claw of shock snatched the breath from my lungs as he did, before abruptly clearing his throat and heading out of the room without so much as a single word or grunt, leaving me to wonder whether I imagined the whole thing.
“You ever notice how we say man when we’re disappointed?” Clover questioned, before shoving a handful of popcorn in her mouth.
I pursed my lips, conceding as I reached over and took a handful of the savory snack for myself. “You may be onto something there.”
Clover, Arianna, and I were having our weekly Thursday film night at Clover’s place. It was my favorite part of the week and allowed me to ignore the troubles of the last few days to indulge in some seriously cheesy rom-coms with my best friends.
Tonight, however, it wasn’t as effective. Though that was because I had an Orion-shaped cloud hanging over my head .
No matter how hard I tried to push the events of two days ago into the back of my mind, to forget the entire thing had happened, I couldn’t shake the memory of Orion’s mouth on my finger.
The flicker of his tongue. The sparks along my skin. The heat of his body. The woody scent of his cologne. The surety of his grip on my waist.
Over forty-eight hours later, still all I could think about was how desperately I wanted him to kiss me.
And it pisses me off.
As did the fact that he had just suddenly reverted back into his arrogant, asshole self without any explanation, despite the fact I knew he craved that moment as much as I did.
“You see, men like this,” Arianna pointed to the TV. “They simply don’t exist.” We were rewatching 50 First Dates for the umpteenth time.
“Nope,” I drawled. “Though, even if they did, I’d still be more attracted to the assholes.” I hated myself for it, but it was true.
Take Orion, for example.
“That’s because Beauty and the Beast is your favorite Disney movie.” Clover deadpanned in my direction. I threw a piece of popcorn at her in retaliation.
“You know, you really missed your calling in sociology,” I mocked. “What’s the latest with Killian?”
Clover had developed an insane crush on her new swoon-worthy boss, and she’d been badgering on about him for a month. Apparently, doctors aren’t always scary-looking older men towering over you with a mask and stethoscope.
“Have you ever met someone who is that hot you lose your ability to even like, I don’t know, speak around them?”
“Yes.” Ari sighed.
I scoffed, have I ? “Try living with him.”
“How you haven’t jumped on that man already, I’ll never know.” Clover drawled. “He’s a mountain of pure deliciousness.”
“Orion is—” I hesitated as I thought of the right word. “—complicated, to say the least. Anyway, tell us more about Killian.”
I needed a moment to think about literally anything else.
“I can’t function around him! Plus,” she adjusted herself on the sofa. “Even when I can seem to connect the wires in my brain to my mouth, there’s only so many ways to flirt with someone when you have a pensioner laid in between you both and she’s having her blood pressure checked.”
I pressed my lips together to stifle my laugh. “Clo, you need to relax.” I tapped her knee. “Remember what you said to me? You’re a hot, twenty-five-year-old woman, with a perfect pair of tits and a cracking ass. He’s probably drooling over you when you’re not looking.”
“Hell yeah, I am,” Clover agreed, her voice now over-enthusiastic.
“How’s the store going, Ari? ”
She beamed, her face lit up the way it always did when we talked about her designs. I’d never known someone so passionate about their dreams—it was inspirational. Arianna had this air around her that pushed me to strive for better, and it had been the exact kick up the ass I needed during finals.
“It’s amazing,” she swooned, her eyes glistening. “All the designs from the opening have sold out, and I’ve even hired an assistant.”
“Our girl has an assistant !” Clover nudged me. “I want an assistant.”
“What do you need an assistant for?” I cast her a laughing glance. “You just like the way it sounds.”
She shrugged, not denying it, and shot me a so what if I do look.
“Sutton,” Arianna continued, ignoring Clover, “will manage the store when I go to Miami. Much to Aaron’s surprise, business doesn’t stop when he competes in the Grand Prix.”
“I’m so jealous,” Clover sighed, curling a strand of her perfectly natural blonde hair around her finger. “You get to meet so many hot guys.”
“Not just any hot guys,” I added. “ Caden Knox kind of hot guys.”
Clover nodded eagerly, while Arianna rolled her eyes. “That man is like fine wine.” She wasn’t wrong. With blue eyes, sculpted cheekbones, and dark hair, Caden Knox was the definition of drop-dead gorgeous.
He was an up-and-coming British F1 racing driver with Rosenau and had recently been named the Most Eligible Bachelor in Sports by Harper’s Bazaar magazine.
Arianna rolled her molten eyes. “He’s a Grade-A asshole, is what he is.”
My lips curled, I knew that feeling far too well.
“Good looks don’t deflect from a masochist personality.”
“I’m getting the feeling she doesn’t like him very much,” Clover commented, eyes ablaze with mischief. “This doesn’t have anything to do with his recent win in China, does it?”
In the Chinese Grand Prix, Aaron and Caden had both landed themselves in the top three, and for some reason or another, Aaron got a yellow flag which led to Caden winning the race. The tabloids had been pinning the two against each other ever since.
“No,” Arianna rushed out. “He’s just an ass.”
“Mmkay,” Clover smirked, eyeing Arianna skeptically. “You two just have a thing for hating on sexy millionaires then, huh?”
How did I get dragged into this?
I was about to retaliate, but the sound of my phone ringing cut me off. “Hang on,” I told Clover, picking up the call and flashing her a look that translated to we’re not done here . “Hello?” I answered, my tone cautious when I saw it was an unsaved number.
“Evening, am I speaking with Miss Fields?” The voice was deep, belonging to an older man, though there was a sense of familiarity about it that I couldn’t put my finger on.
“Yes, it is. Can I ask who’s calling?” Both Ari and Clover’s eyes were glued to me in suspense.
“This is Zander Rivers from White & Rivers, is now a good time to speak?”
My heart clawed its way up my throat as both anxiety and excitement married in the pit of my stomach. I gripped Clover’s arm for support, my eyes wide as I stared at her. She stared back in angst, desperate to know what was going on.
“Mr. Rivers, good evening.” Clover gasped, now equally as anxious as me as she recognized the name, and Arianna leaned forward. “How can I help?”
“I’ll get straight to the point, Miss Fields,” Mr. Rivers began. Please don’t be bad news. “We would like to offer you the position of associate attorney in our criminal defense department, that is, if you’re still interested?”
I blinked.
I blinked again.
By the third blink, his words finally sank into my skin, and I started to process them. “You’d… like to offer me the job?”
Clover jumped to her feet, her palm covering her agape lips. “Of course, Mr. Rivers, I’d be delighted,” I managed to breathe out. “I’m a little shocked though, I wasn’t sure my interview had gone all that well.”
He let out a soft chuckle on the other end of the phone. “Ah, yes, well it was certainly different from the others,” he admitted. I inwardly facepalmed at the confirmation. “That being said, we were impressed with your grades and experience so far, and we believe, despite the slight hiccup we encountered, you’d be an excellent addition to the team. Besides, when Orion De Luca recommends someone, you don’t take that recommendation lightly.”
Wait.
“Orion recommended me?” I hadn’t thought it possible for Clover’s jaw to hang wider than it already was, but she always was keen to prove me wrong.
“He did,” Mr. Rivers says coolly. “In fact, he went as far as questioning my competency as his attorney if I passed on the opportunity to hire you before declaring he’d have to take De Luca Securities elsewhere if I did.”
He what?
The same man who couldn’t stand to look at me half the time, threatened to take his billion-dollar business from the best firm in the city, simply if they didn’t hire me?
Orion had officially reached a new level of confusing. A level they created just for him , no less.
“Gosh, Mr. Rivers,” I shrieked, heat burning my cheeks. “I’m ever so sorry, I had no clue.”
My new boss chuckled again. “Oh, please. I’ve been Mr. De Luca’s attorney for over nine years, he wasn’t going anywhere. Besides, I agreed with him. You were by far the best candidate for the role, Miss Fields, and if you can convince a man like Orion De Luca to vouch for you, I’m more than certain you’ll be the perfect addition to our team. I’ll have my assistant call you tomorrow to hash out the details with you, but I just wanted to call you personally to share the good news. Congratulations again, Emerson. Talk soon.”
“Thank you again, Mr Rivers. Talk soon.” The call cut off and I was left staring at the screen, rendered completely speechless.
I glanced up at Clover and Arianna, who both had the shock I was feeling written across their faces. “ I have to go.”
I have to see him.