Chapter Three
I can’t even hide the smile on my face as I toss my phone to the side. She said yes. I mean I know I didn’t make it easy for her to say no but I half expected her to tell me to fuck off. I stretch my feet out, propping them up on the coffee table in my home office which has become my only place of solitude. There have been weekends when I haven’t left this space at all because I didn’t want to be bothered. Not only is it my office, where I come to work but there is also a full bar in the corner complete with a refrigerator, sink, and microwave. A flat-screen television is mounted on the wall with a couch and two loungers set in front of it. A pool table is in the corner and there is a full ensuite bathroom nestled in the other corner. I never use the term ‘ man cave ’ exactly, but it is one place Holly rarely bothers me.
Speaking of Holly, is she even home?
I hadn’t gotten the alert that anyone had opened the door or the garage since I got home, so it’s possible that she’s out. I would call her to check on her but that usually causes an argument I am not in the mood for. I think about calling Beck to see if he wants to stop by but it’s getting late, and I know he’s got a lot to do before he travels to Miami in a few days. I mindlessly flip through the channels, trying to find something to watch but my mind is elsewhere. I am so fucking restless and I’ve been like this for months. I make my way out of my office, turning off some lights and leaving some on for Holly when she gets home before I decide a workout will relieve some of this tension. I run a few miles on the treadmill and lift for a while before I realize what it is I’m feeling. I’m anxious.
I’m anxious over dinner with Marissa. Nervous excitement pumps through me that the spark between us is fueled by more than just sex. I towel off after spending an hour trying to rid myself of this tension before making my way towards the bedroom where I sleep alone and into my personal bathroom.
The thought of Marissa sharing this bed with me pops into my head reminding me that she’s the last person I’ve shared a bed with. She’d fallen asleep in my arms after she’d sworn she wasn’t going to and I chuckled as she snuggled up against me, pushing her face into my chest and nuzzling against it. I’d watched her sleep for I don’t know how long, watching the cute little faces she made in her sleep before pressing a gentle kiss to her lips and falling asleep with her in my arms. I turn my head towards the king bed and a mental image of her crawling across it, naked , flashes through my mind, and my dick throbs at the visual my brain is concocting.
I head towards the bathroom, discarding my sweaty clothes and tossing them into my laundry basket before turning on the water and preparing to fuck my fist yet again at the memory of her.
I step into my walk-in shower with my hand already wrapped around my dick. I pull it once as I picture her coming up behind me, her arms wrapped around my middle as she presses her breasts to my back and drags her lips along my shoulder.
“You know, if you keep doing this and thinking about me it’s the only thing that’s going to be able to get you off.” She moves to stand in front of me and gives me a sassy smile.
“It already is,” I think as I picture her hand wrapped around my dick.
“You’re torturing yourself.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
“Fuck, Marissa, give me your mouth baby.”
“You don’t even know what my mouth feels like.”
“We should change that.”
“Hmmmm.” She taps her chin. “I don’t know.”
“Am I really arguing with you in my fucking fantasy?”
“Yep, and you’re still hard.” She giggles. “Do you think I’ll give in on Thursday?”
“I don’t know.” I pull harder on my dick, trying to chase my climax but all of the questions and uncertainties are preventing me from getting there.
“I know you’re hoping I do, but what are you going to do if I don’t? You certainly can’t do this forever.” She’s looking down at where I’m starting to jack my dick faster.
“Babe. I don’t know. I just fucking want you.”
Her fingertips move up my chest before they’re on my face and when I open my eyes, I can see her face clear as day giving me a solemn look. “I want you too but you’re not mine to have.”
I don’t even know how to respond to that in a fantasy because she’s right.
“Maybe you need to figure out what you want and what exactly is possible for you and me before you take me out.” She cocks her head to the side and gives me that sexy smile that I’ve thought about no less than twice an hour since the first time I laid eyes on her.
“You’re right.”
“I know,” she sasses before she lowers herself to her knees in front of me.
“Oh fuuuuuck.” I groan as I think about her lips wrapped around my dick. I jack myself harder, rubbing myself from root to tip.
“It’s a shame you didn’t get to come down my throat before.” She flutters those long eyelashes at me. “You can do it now.”
“Fuck yes, let me.”
She swipes her tongue across the tip sexily like she did briefly that night and it’s an image that plays through my mind on a loop. I want to see her do it again and again and fucking again, preferably right before she sucks me between those pink lips.
“If I ever get you in a bed again, I’m not letting you out until we do everything.”
She strokes her tongue up the underside of my shaft. “Everything?” Her eyes are wide and unblinking before a wicked smirk finds her lips. “Sounds like you want to put your dick in my ass.”
“Fuuuuuck.” I groan, my balls tighten, and my release shoots out of me. My eyes slam shut and I slap one hand against the shower wall for balance as I come all over the floor wishing like fuck it was going inside Marissa Collins’ mouth.
The week goes by as quickly as I hoped. I hardly see Marissa because she’s busy doing new hire work, and with Beck out of town, I have more on my plate than usual. We have a few casual texting conversations during the evenings but other than that we barely speak.
It’s finally Thursday night and I’m meeting Marissa at a restaurant forty minutes away where I’ve already reserved a private room for us to be alone. She insisted on driving herself there, but I already have a car on standby to take her home and also someone to drive her car should she have too much to drink. I’m standing outside of the restaurant, waiting for her when she appears from around the corner, and I swear my heart almost stops. A few strands of her dark hair are pinned back again, reminiscent of that first night we were together allowing me to see all of her face. She’s wearing a sleeveless mid-length black dress with a slit that goes up to mid-thigh exposing her smooth toned legs. The dress looks like it’s painted on her, with a hint of cleavage and shows off her delicious curves that I’m desperate to kiss again. She somehow manages to look both classy and sexy, and the smile on her burgundy-painted lips when she approaches me, lets me know that I am not doing a good job of hiding what I think of her dress.
“Just dinner?” I ask her and she scrunches her nose as she looks down.
“What? It’s a nice restaurant,” she says innocently.
“That is not a it’s a nice restaurant dress. It’s an I want to torment a man dress, and you know it.” She looks a little guilty and I wrap an arm around her waist squeezing her gently. “I like it. I welcome the torment. You look…stunning.” I want to run down a list of synonyms because one word doesn’t seem like enough to describe her.
Inside, I’ve barely uttered my last name to the hostess before we are being escorted back to our room. The restaurant is massive with tiny lights hanging from the ceiling and the sounds of live jazz bouncing off the walls. We walk down a long dark hallway with only candlelit lanterns lining the walls, my hand resting against Marissa’s back as I follow her. We pass three doors before the hostess pushes one of them open and gives us a smile. “Mr. Holt, Miss Collins, here is your private room. Someone will be with you shortly. I’m Anna, please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you while you’re dining with us,” she says with a polite smile as she ushers us inside.
I hear a tiny gasp next to me and I take that to mean Marissa likes the room. I asked for this one specifically because it is the biggest and has the best view. The room has only one table at its center; a rich mahogany one, clearly meant for ten to twelve people. The carpet is the color of rich burgundy with traces of gold illuminated by the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. There’s one entire wall of windows and one is open letting the September air move into the space. It is still on the warmer side of the month where the nights are comfortable until closer to midnight when the air finally ticks below seventy degrees.
I am pleased that the restaurant followed my instructions as I note the three dozen red roses in crystal vases placed on the table and the small card in front of them with Marissa’s name on it. She picks it up as I move towards the small bar cart in the corner to pop the bottle of champagne that’s chilling in a bucket of ice.
“Thank you for dinner. This is already the best night I’ve had in months,” she reads aloud what I had them write on the card. “These are beautiful,” she says just as I pop the cork and begin pouring both of us a glass of champagne. I move towards her and hold one out for her.
“Believe me when I say this, they do not hold a candle to you.”
She takes one of the flutes before sipping the champagne. “You’re really pulling out all the stops, huh? I thought you said you were going to be a perfect gentleman.” She raises an eyebrow at me and purses her lips.
My dick throbs. I resist the urge to groan at the fact that now even her sassy attitude is a turn-on.“I am.”
“No, you’re being romantic.” Her eyes dart around the massive room. “A private room with roses and champagne?”
“All seem like gentlemanly behaviors.” I reach for one of her hands and spin her around slowly. “Besides, you’re wearing a dress that calls to my very ungentlemanly side.”
She slides her hand out of mine and gives me a mild scolding look. “You promised.”
“But you wore this to tempt me.” I let my eyes rove slowly down her body and then back up even slower, in a way that there is zero mistake as to what I’m thinking. She doesn’t say anything, so I take a step closer to her and I’m pleased when she doesn’t retreat. “You want to know what I think?” I’m standing as close as I can without touching her. “I think you want me to break. You want me to push us towards something you can’t admit you want.” She swallows nervously and I’m pretty sure she’s not breathing. “Breathe,” I whisper and she shakes her head like she doesn’t trust herself to inhale or exhale while standing this close to me. I look down and from where I’m standing, I get the best view of the tops of her breasts.
I finally take a step back allowing her to take a breath.
“This hardly seems fair.”
“Did you think I was going to be?” I raise an eyebrow at her and a scowl crosses her gorgeous face before she sits down at the table and I take a seat diagonal from her. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
“Everything, huh? Can you be more specific?” I take a long sip of my champagne, already wishing I had something stronger for this conversation.
She looks away from me for a moment and closes her eyes before taking a deep breath and turning back to me. “Why doesn’t she care that you sleep with other women?” I don’t say anything and the silence must be unnerving to her because she continues. “I would care. I couldn’t…be with someone who I had to share with other people. Explain to me how she can?”
“She doesn’t love me.” I shrug simply because it took quite a long time and more time than I care to admit with my therapist to come to that conclusion.
“I don’t believe that. Who wouldn’t love you?” Her mouth drops open. “I mean, if they knew you well enough to marry you.” I don’t even stop the smile from crossing my lips at her slip. “Ugh,” she scoffs though I see a hint of a smile pulling at her lips. “Don’t be annoying.”
“Right.” I smile, knowing that I’ll be riding the high of her essentially calling me lovable for weeks. “She loves the money.”
She’d been leaning forward but now she sits back, resting against the back of the chair like she wasn’t expecting my answer. “Oh.”
“I met her…before Beckham Securities was even a thing.” I stare off into space. “When Wes and I were just two kids with a dream.” I chuckle before turning to look at her. “There isn’t a prenuptial agreement.”
“I see,” she whispers.
“One night after a particularly bad argument, I stormed out and went to a bar and slept with a woman. I felt so guilty, I confessed and she basically told me she wasn’t going to leave me and if she ever did, she was taking half of everything.” My lips form a straight line. “That was three years, and in the spirit of being transparent, several hundred million dollars ago.”
“So, you’re just going to stay with her forever?”
I sigh at the question that Beck has asked me several times and my mother has asked me even more. I have two older sisters, both of whom are married with kids, but my mother wants more grandchildren and she knows I won’t be having any with Holly at this point. I stand up and walk towards the window pushing my hands into my pockets. “I think that was the plan.” I turn around and I see her looking at me like a child who just learned that Santa Claus isn’t real. Like the idea of living in a loveless marriage for the rest of my life is unfathomable and the saddest thing she’s ever heard.
“Forever?”
“I was waiting to hit a breaking point I guess.”
“Wow.”
“I think I hit it,” I tell her and she tilts her head to the side in question. “About three months ago.” I move back towards the table and take a seat, dragging it closer to her so I can grab her hand. “I know it’s not right of me to ask you for a chance, but I have to ask you. If I wasn’t married, would I have one? Or was that night just…was it just sex for you?”
At that moment, the door opens and a tall slender woman with shiny dark hair walks in. “Mr. Holt, how lovely for you to be joining us this evening. Have you had a chance to look at our wine or cocktail selections?” I notice immediately that she’s only acknowledged me. I’m also aware that her top button is undone and her chestnut hair flows around her shoulders when I know they are required to keep it up and out of their face. I assume this is all for my benefit then.
I flit my eyes towards Marissa and she meets my eyes with an amused expression.
“I’ll have a Macallan eighteen neat.” I reach for Marissa’s hand and drag my thumb across her knuckles before dragging them across my lips. “Babe?”
She looks at where our hands are joined and she meets my gaze as I continue kissing each of her knuckles before shooting her a wink. “Manhattan, please,” she says, her eyes still on mine. I don’t know how long we stare at each other when I hear the faint sound of the door closing. “Babe?” she asks and I see the playful glint in her eye that makes me think she liked the show I put on for the woman who may or may not be interested in me.
“I didn’t want her to think I was available.” My hand is still wrapped around hers and I hope she doesn’t make a move to pull out of my grasp.
“Well, you’re not available,” she says, looking disappointed.
“I am for you .”
“Not…exactly.” She sighs. “Fine, your wife doesn’t care. I do. I can’t share the man I’m seeing. I don’t work like that.”
“You would not be sharing me…I don’t…we don’t…”
“It’s so much more than just sex, Chris.” She stands up effectively removing her hand and I already miss the feeling of it wrapped in mine. “Don’t act like you don’t understand what I’m talking about.”
“I do. Marissa, sit down please.”
She crosses her arms and takes a step back. “This is not a good idea. Getting sucked into this with you.” She presses a finger to the corner of her eye and scrunches her nose and I hate that it looks like she’s about to cry. “I’m just going to get hurt.”
I’m out of my seat instantly and have her in my arms. “I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“You don’t have any plans to leave her. I don’t see how you could avoid hurting me because what happens? I just become your mistress…forever?” She scrunches her nose. “I don’t like that word.”
I rest a finger under her chin and tilt it up gently to look at me. “You’d be more than that. You’d be everything. I’d take care of you.”
She scoffs, pulling away and taking a step back. “I don’t need to be taken care of, Chris, and you say I’d be more…but until what? Someone better comes along?”
“Not possible.”
“What happens when I want to get married or have a baby?” She opens her hands when I don’t respond. “Right. No answer to that?” She shakes her head and lets her eyes flutter shut. “Yeah, it’s better that we just stop this now before either of us gets in too deep.”
“Too late,” I murmur.
“We had drunken sex once, three months ago. I think you will be fine getting over me.”
“That hasn’t worked out well so far.” Her brown eyes are shining with unshed tears but she blinks them away before any can fall. “Tell me you didn’t feel anything.”
“What?”
“You heard me. This is my second time asking. When we slept together, was it just sex for you?”
“It doesn’t matter, Chris.”
“The hell it doesn’t.”
“It doesn’t matter what I want or what I feel because you’re married! You are not an option for me!” Her voice rises slightly before she takes a deep breath and puts a hand over her eyes.
“What if I leave her?” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them and she drops her hand and stares at me with wide nervous eyes.
“I…I don’t want you to leave her for me.”
“Who else would I be leaving her for?”
“You,” she says. “If you leave her for me, you go through what sounds like would be a very expensive and difficult and tedious divorce proceeding and then say things between us don’t work out? I don’t want you to resent me for blowing up your life and then I’m not even there when the dust settles.”
“I’d hope you’d stick around and be there.”
“I’m not saying I wouldn’t but we hardly know each other, Chris. It’s possible that our night of amazing sex won’t translate to an amazing relationship.”
I move towards her and I’m relieved that she doesn’t move away before I can wrap her in my arms. “We could get to know each other.” The door opens and in walks a different server and it’s not lost on me that it’s a man this time. He sets our drinks on the table before giving us both a curt nod and he leaves without another word. “How about we not label or define anything?” I suggest. “We just…get to know each other?”
“You’re married,” she whispers and sighs like she’s tired of saying it. She sits down and takes a sip of her drink before turning back to me. “When did things start to go south?” she asks and I’m taking it as a good sign that she didn’t flat-out tell me no.
“Two years in was when it got really bad but I can remember things as early as two months into our marriage.”
“Does she want kids?”
I shake my head because even if she wanted them, she was not getting them from me. “Her and I having kids is off the table.”
“Do you want kids?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “With the right woman.” I’m well aware that she’s twenty-one and I’m thirty-four so she’s probably not thinking about them tomorrow but she mentioned them earlier.
“You don’t sleep with her?”
“We don’t even sleep in the same bedroom,” I tell her. “I sleep in a different room and more often than not in my office.”
“If you…had a girlfriend…any girlfriend. Not. Me. Specifically,” she says, annunciating each word. “Would you even be able to stay the night with her?
A smile spreads across my face at the thought of falling asleep with her in my arms again. “Any night she wanted me to.”
“Well, I live at home with my parents, so it’s a moot point.”
“We could change that.”
“What?”
“We could go look for an apartment for you.”
“Chris, be serious. I’m not getting an apartment just for you to have a place to screw your girlfriend.”
The harshness of her words slides over me and I wish it didn’t sound so ugly. “No, but if it will make you happier and allow this potential boyfriend,” not necessarily me but I hope to God it would be, “to stay the night…” I trail off and she starts to protest but I hold a hand up. “I get that maybe that’s too much too fast. For now, maybe this woman and I would just go to my penthouse in the city.” I don’t suggest the idea of her staying there on a semi-permanent basis, but I wouldn’t hate the idea of it.
She narrows her eyes at me. “So, what is that, like…a fuckpad?” she says, looking thoroughly unamused by the thought.
“I do not call it that.” I wince.
“But you take women there.”
“I have,” I tell her honestly. “I’m not denying that I have a past, or that I’m married, or that I haven’t always treated women the way they deserve.” She asked for no bullshit and something tells me that Marissa will only respond to explicit honesty. “I’m telling you that you’ve been on my mind nonstop for three months. I haven’t so much as looked at another woman because you’re all I can think about. I know I fucked up by just leaving you that morning, but believe it or not, I was just trying to do the right thing. I was trying to avoid all of this because I know it’s messy and I’m complicated, but now you’ve walked back into my life and I really don’t want to let you go a second time.”
She doesn’t say anything and I wonder if she’s just letting what I said sink in. Her eyes dart around the room, before landing on the thirty-six long-stemmed roses sitting on the table before turning her gaze back to me. “I really hope you’re not lying to me.” Her voice is sad and I wonder if it’s just this situation in particular or if there’s something in her past that may make her unable to trust me.
I reach for her hand again and give it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry that I’ve given you a reason to think that I would.”
She bites her bottom lip and takes another sip of her drink. “I’m not saying yes.”
“Okay.”
“Or no.” Hope flares in my veins and I nod with a smile on my lips. “Have you ever done this?” I shake my head because while I’ve had casual sex it never went further.
“I’d say this is the first date I’ve been on that wasn’t with her in almost a decade.”
She nods towards the flowers. “Three dozen roses is a little overkill.”
I detect a hint of flirtation in her voice. “I wanted to make a good impression.”
“I see that.” She picks up the card again, dragging her fingers over the edges of it before sliding it into her purse.
“How’d I do?”
“I’m not sure yet,” she says before she shrugs. “But the night is still young.”