23. hayes
TWENTY-THREE
hayes
I could kill Andrew. I still might. I could stash Fallon on the balcony, lock the door, and knock him over the head with a beer bottle. It’s not that I didn’t want to invite Fallon over eventually; it’s that I didn’t have an excuse yet for how I could afford a condo in one of the most prestigious buildings in Sanderling. I didn’t know how long I’d be here, so I signed a month-to-month lease. As I continue to quickly gather the information I need on Fallon, I could be out as early as next month. But I can’t continue holding out on her now that she knows. She would grow more suspicious.
She sways down the hallway, dragging her fingertips along the wall as she hums a song I’m positive she’s making up. She had as much wine as I did, but she’s much smaller than me, and I don’t think she drinks often. After one glass, I should’ve stopped her, but her relaxed smile was radiant.
When she goes a little too far, I retrieve her by hooking my finger in her waistband and dragging her back, using my other hand to unlock the door to my condo. Andrew is sitting at the bar, working on his laptop and drinking a beer. He doesn’t seem surprised to see Fallon but does toss me an apologetic grin. Out of both my idiotic friends, I thought Jace would be the one to slip. “Andrew,” I greet dryly.
“Andrew,” Fallon repeats in a mocking deep tone. “God, he’s so personable, isn’t he? Hi, Andrew.”
Andrew grins, amused.
“Fallon is drunk,” I mutter, still holding onto her pants so she doesn’t topple over or wander off.
“Aw, pookie.” She presses on the tip of my nose with her index finger. “Don’t be so grumpy. Show me around.”
I blink. No one has ever done that to me, nor would I allow it from anyone else, but she’s looking at me with round eyes and a pouty bottom lip, and I swear something inside my chest thumps. I don’t have a heart, so it must be the early signs of a stroke. “You said you toured this building.”
“I did.” She rolls her eyes. “But you weren’t here yet. I want to see how you decorated, if you’re clean, and if any dead bodies are stashed away somewhere… the basics.”
Andrew regards her warmly.
Fuck, he sees it, too. I haven’t just imagined it. I’m not under a spell. She really is magnetic to be around.
“I’ll show you the guest room,” Andrew offers, shutting his laptop and standing. “Fitz will get you some water.”
He’s allowing me a moment to catch my breath because that’s what he’s used to doing when I have a woman over. When we were roommates during college, Andrew would keep them entertained while I stepped outside to just relax. Emotions and expectations tend to overwhelm me. But oddly enough, I don’t find myself craving space from Fallon.
I don’t deny his offer, though. She does need water.
Fallon practically skips over to Andrew and laces her arm through his, allowing him to lead her across the flat into the guest room. I listen to her sounds of awe at the decor from where I remain in the kitchen while filling her glass with sparkling water. Her place is nicely decorated, but it’s attuned to her taste. I’ve never been able to customize any place I’ve lived. I wouldn’t even know where to start or what I like. Every room I’ve had, every house we’ve lived in, every place we’ve stayed has been carefully planned. We had a reputation to maintain.
The son of a CEO billionaire with a Spiderman bedroom just wouldn’t fit the aesthetic my mother always wanted to achieve. Instead, I had fucking sailboats and neutral colors. I don’t even like sailing that much. We own a yacht, but I always hire someone to take us out on the water, even after my years of lessons on how to be seaworthy.
Fallon reappears next to me, shoeless.
“You’ve made yourself at home.” I hand her the glass. “Drink up, pookie . I want you sober before I take you home.”
She scrunches her nose before taking a sip. “Fitz,” she whispers, casting a quick glance over her shoulder at Andrew before returning to me. “I want to see your bedroom.”
Chuckling, I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh yeah? And why’s that, Fallon?”
She hides her smile behind the glass. “It’s a secret.”
My little beast is hungry.
I glance over at Andrew, gauging his reaction to my silent question. He responds with a shrug. That’s his way of telling me he’ll leave the decision to me.
I lean against the counter and fold my arms over my chest. “We don’t have secrets. Andrew and I have shared many things, including women. We’d like to share you tonight.”
She chokes on her water. That might’ve sobered her up a little. “I’m sorry, what? Share me?”
I remove the glass from her hands and place it on the counter, then wrap my arm around her waist and pull her flush against me. “Share you,” I repeat, brushing my lips against hers. “Does that interest you?”
She swallows thickly and holds herself tightly against me, either out of fear or needing to feel safe. We won’t force her into it, but I believe she’d enjoy herself with both of us.
But when I look into her eyes, I don’t see fear. The slight wrinkle between her eyebrows mirrors disappointment. “You… you’d be okay with someone else touching me?”
She’s reaching for something deeper than I’m capable of giving her. I’m possessive over the women I’m sleeping with, but I’m also okay sharing them for experiences such as these. Andrew is my most trusted friend. Like me, he doesn’t allow feelings to get involved with the women he’s with.
This will be the only time he touches Fallon unless it’s something she asks for from me again. It would only become a problem if she preferred him over me, which she wouldn’t.
“Yes.” I pull down on her bottom lip with my thumb. “As long as it’s something we both want. Don’t overthink it.” I kiss her again, longer this time. “Don’t label it. Don’t assign an expectation to it. Just let us take care of you.”
“I, um…” Her cheeks turn pink. “I’ve never had a threesome,” she confesses, as if that’s new information.
“We love popping cherries.” I spin her around and lift her onto the counter. “Anything you don’t want to do, we won’t.”
She looks at Andrew over my shoulder while gnawing on her bottom lip. I know she finds him attractive. Like me, women never turn him down. Admittedly, she’s fighting this harder than we’re used to. Most, if not all, women we approach with the offer jump at the opportunity.
It’s done amazing things for our egos.
A sudden protective instinct befalls me. I return her attention to me by moving so she can’t see Andrew behind me. “Hey, we don’t have to do this. If you’re uncomfortable, say the word. It can be just us tonight.”
“I don’t want to disappoint you,” she whispers.
I need to rectify this immediately. Wrapping her legs around my waist, I balance an arm beneath her and carry her into my room, closing the door behind us. Andrew won’t even allow himself to be disappointed about losing out on tasting her. That’s one of the best qualities about him.
Like me, he doesn’t feel anything.
I place her on the edge of my bed and lower to my knees before her, balancing my hands on her thighs. Her eyes are lowered, and it’s the first time she hasn’t held firm with me.
“Baby, look at me,” I urge her gently.
She does the opposite, of course. Instead of looking at me, she tips her head all the way back and stares at the ceiling. “I’m just so inexperienced, Fitz. And it’s not even just that.”
I squeeze her thighs. “What is it?”
She laughs, but it’s not because she finds this situation funny. It sounds more akin to being annoyed with herself. “Because I’m a romantic.” She lowers her head and shrugs. “I read too many books, maybe. If I’m with someone, I only want to be with them. I know sex is just sex, but it’s never been that way with me. It always meant something.”
I nod slowly, trying to understand. To me, sex has always been exactly that. Just sex. I’ve never allowed it to be more than that with anyone, which is why I’m okay with threesomes. “Are you afraid you’ll develop feelings for Andrew?”
“No.” This time, she does hold my gaze. She stares straight into my eyes and doesn’t waver when she says, “I only want to sleep with you. I only want you.”
I have… never heard those words.
I don’t know what to do with the feelings that accompany her confession. My habit of shoving them down and burying them doesn’t seem to work when she’s near me. Instead, I always feel everything simultaneously, making me want to bolt. She’s piercing pieces of me that no one ever has.
I should ask her to leave. She’s getting too close. I’m losing myself in her more and more each day. But I don’t ask her to go. I don’t shove her away. I do something far worse.
I say, “Stay with me tonight.”
* * *
I dropped Fallon off at the store early this morning. She fell asleep on my chest last night and remained there until my alarm woke her up this morning. Like I anticipated, seeing her first thing in the morning was a terrible idea. Her hair was a mess, one of her cheeks was red from where she laid on me all night, and she smelled of sex and my detergent.
She was divine.
And the morning shower sex we had was even better. It was the first time she went down on me, and now all I can think of while driving to Boston is how she looked with her mouth wrapped around my cock. The sounds she made when she gagged from how deep I was in her throat. The tears that fell from her eyes when she looked up at me as I came.
Fuck, I’m hard again. I can’t walk into the meeting with my father like this.
I take the elevator to the top floor, ignore the secretary at the front, and find one of the empty offices and close the door. I take a seat the desk and scoot forward. If anyone walks in, they won’t immediately see me jerking off.
I unzip my pants and take my cock out, fisting it and pumping quickly. I’m throbbing from only the thought of her, whispering her name when I recall the way I had her bent over the bed last night. “Fuck,” I whisper, my eyes falling closed when I think of how raspy her moans are when she comes for me. I swell in my fist, my balls tightening as visions of her flash continuously through my mind.
“Fallon,” I groan, imagining its her hand wrapped around me instead. “Fallon,” I say again. “Fuck, fuck…” My cock jerks in my hand as I come, coating my stomach as I pant.
I blink as I’m brought back to reality. I have never needed to jerk off just to get someone off my mind. I’m a risky motherfucker but I stare at the door with the realization that I didn’t even bother locking it. I just wanted to imagine her.
I tuck my cock back into my pants and grab tissues from the box sitting atop the desk to clean myself.
What the fuck is she doing to me?
I pull my phone from my pocket and shoot her a text.
Made it to Boston.
‘Jerked off in the office while thinking of you’ is what I’m tempted to say next, but I refrain.
Say hi to the Red Sox for me.
I could take her on a date to Fenway Park this summer. We’re season ticket holders. I’m getting way ahead of myself. I doubt she’ll ever speak to me again once she finds out what I’ve done—what I’m about to do.
With a sigh, I slip my phone back into my pocket without replying to her text.