Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Cree thought the ten-minute walk back to the office would be all she needed to calm down. It wasn’t. No, she would need hours or maybe even days to get over her encounter with Tristan. The man still had the ability to throw her off-balance, and knowing that drove her nuts.
Seeing him again sparked too many emotions—surprise, anger, and even lust. The last one bugged her the most because she’d only been in his presence for five minutes. Five frickin’ minutes! Yet, that was all it took for her body to respond to him, to crave him, and to recall all they once shared.
Tristan was even more gorgeous than she remembered. The sight of those soulful eyes, as well as those tempting, masterful lips that had brought her immense pleasure back in the day, haunted her even now.
She almost groaned. Why’d he have to be finer than he’d been years ago?
Why couldn’t he be sporting bloodshot eyes, missing all his front teeth, and have a beer belly that hung to his knees?
Instead, he was every woman’s fantasy. Tall, dark, and downright gorgeous with a body designed for pleasing a woman.
Cree hadn’t missed the attention he had garnered from those in the coffee shop.
Tristan might’ve worn a helmet on the football field, but between television commercials, magazine covers, and a few cameos in movies, he had gained notoriety with both sexes.
Not only was he handsome, but he was also charming.
She was curious to see what he’d end up doing now that he’d been forced to retire from the game he loved. No doubt he’d be in hot demand since he had so much going for him—looks, a positive personality, and he was endearing, giving him all he needed to influence the hardest of hearts.
Yeah, he was marketable, and he’d be flooded with opportunities. Cree wondered if he would…
Dammit!
Who cared what he did? Not her! As far as she was concerned, Tristan could fall off the face of the earth, and she wouldn’t go looking for him.
Okay, maybe that was too extreme. She didn’t wish him harm. She just didn’t want anything to do with him. He had hurt her too much. Betrayed her when she was vulnerable, and he probably had no clue as to just how much he had crushed her spirit.
Everyone always thought she was the strong one. The one who was unshakable, and for the most part, she was. Yet there had been a time in her life when she had counted on Tristan. She’d needed him in more ways than one, and he’d let her down.
But that was the past, and the mistakes she’d made with him would never be repeated.
At least that’s what she kept telling herself as she stomped down the street. She was no longer the young and naive twenty-four-year-old who thought she knew everything about everything.
Nope. Now she was a grown-ass woman who knew better than to go against her gut feelings. She also knew better than to open her heart and trust a man the way she had trusted Tristan. The asshole had gotten past her defenses, but she wouldn’t let that happen again.
“Never again,” she mumbled as she followed a few people into her office building. She couldn’t let thoughts of Tristan consume her. She had moved on, and there was no way she would allow him back into her life in any capacity.
She marched across the shiny travertine floors and headed to the bank of elevators.
There were numerous businesses that operated out of the building, and the lobby was bustling with people coming and going.
However, she kept her attention straight ahead.
She needed to get up to her office so she could decompress before her next meeting.
A few minutes later, Cree exited the elevator on the twenty-first floor, where their law office was located.
She strolled past a large, plush waiting room, several cubicles, and a couple of conference rooms until she entered the partners’ office area.
The suite of offices was set in back, away from the small waiting area she was currently standing in.
As she approached the long counter, Shantel, their executive assistant, who was on the telephone, lifted her finger, silently asking Cree to wait.
“Yes, sir. I’ll make sure Mr. Ellis gets the message. Have a good day.
“Sorry about that, Cree,” Shantel said after ending the call. “You just missed a call from Mr. Charleston. He had to cancel his three o’clock meeting with you.”
Now that was the best news she’d heard all day. She wasn’t in the mood to meet with a potential new client. “Did he reschedule?”
“Yes,” Shantel said slowly as she glanced down at her calendar. “He rescheduled for next Thursday and apologized for the short notice. He has to fly to New York—family emergency.”
Cree nodded. “Okay. That gives me the afternoon to catch up on some work.”
Before walking away, she told Shantel that she was not to be disturbed unless it was an emergency. She had a dinner meeting later. Until then, she’d see how much work she could get through.
Two hours later, Cree dropped back against her leather desk chair and released a long sigh. It had been days since she’d been able to get through any amount of work without being interrupted.
“This is good,” she murmured into the quietness of the space.
Her large corner office was one of her favorite places to spend time, even if it was for working.
It was functional, while also being relaxing with very light blue, almost white, walls and oak hardwood floors.
Behind her desk were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that not only held law books, but numerous awards and keepsakes.
To her left was a wall of windows with a view of equally tall buildings, and across from her desk was a sitting area.
It held a comfortable sofa with end tables and a straight-backed upholstered chair.
She also had her own bathroom. Though small, it offered a convenience she appreciated.
Feeling at peace, Cree laid her head back against the chair and rested her eyes. She had almost dozed off when her desk phone beeped.
Yawning, she sat forward and picked up the receiver. “Yes, Shantel.”
“Sorry to bother you, but you have a visitor—Tristan Whitmore.”
Cree’s breath caught as shock charged through her, and then she pounded her hand on the desk.
Damn him. What part of stay away from her had he not understood?
Then again, who was she kidding? Saying no to Tristan or telling him not to do something was like daring him to do it.
A lot of his success had to do with the fact that he didn’t take no for an answer, and Cree telling him to stay away was like holding out a red flag in a bullfight.
He’d charge forward just to provoke her.
Clearly, he’d forgotten who he was dealing with. He couldn’t just snap his fingers and expect her to fall at his feet. And if he thought that’s what she’d do, he had another thing coming.
“Tell Mr. Whitmore I’m busy, and if he wants to meet with me, then make an appointment. And when he tries to make an appointment, make sure he understands I’m busy for the next twenty years.”
Silence greeted her on the other end of the phone line before Shantel burst out laughing. “Yes, ma’am,” she said and then disconnected the call.
That ought to get rid of him.
Cree went back to work. After another hour, she slipped her feet back into her high heels that were under the desk and stood.
She’d gotten stiff from all the sitting, but in turn, she was able to clear out her inbox.
Now she needed to move her body some and maybe even get out of the office a minute.
Twisting back and forth at the waist, she stretched her back, then reached up high for another stretch.
After breathing in and out a few times, she let her arms drop down to her sides.
With her muscles feeling loose, she grabbed the two padded envelopes that needed mailing and headed out of her office.
She strolled down the short hallway, and as she entered the waiting area, Cree spotted two men sitting on opposite sides of the space. However, there was only one who met and held her gaze, and Cree pulled up short.
Tristan. The last person she expected to see. Had he really been here for the past hour?
He stood to his imposing height, and her breath stalled in her throat as he buttoned his suit jacket.
At well over six feet tall, the man was dressed to impress and looking as if he came to play hardball.
Gone were the dress shirt and pants from earlier.
In its place was a navy-blue suit that screamed wealth, and no doubt had been tailored specifically for his drool-worthy body.
The man looked larger than life standing there, and it was taking every bit of strength Cree had not to walk up to him and kiss him senseless.
Yeah, that wouldn’t be smart at all. Still, she was tempted.
She swallowed hard as she struggled to keep her gaze from traveling over his impressive physique. Impossible. There was no woman alive who could see this man and not do a double take. Hell, they probably wouldn’t be able to take their eyes off him period.
Yeah, he was that fine, and the suit only added to his imposing masculinity.
Her gaze did a slow glide over his extra broad shoulders that looked strong enough to hold up a twenty-story building. Then there were his ridiculously wide chest and biceps almost as big as her thighs.
But in this suit, every part of him seemed magnified. Except his waist. His shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist. She didn’t have to look beneath the clothes to know he still had eight-pack abs.
And those thighs? Lord have mercy. It was no wonder he was one of the best running backs to play the game. His pants highlighted his powerful thighs and long, super long legs.
Immediately, memories of him holding her up against the wall as if she weighed nothing, while thrusting in and out of her, flooded her mind. Sex with him had always been intense, hot, and beyond satisfying as he brought her to one orgasm after another.
Cree shook the memory free and realized Tristan’s confident steps were bringing him closer.
“Hello, Cree,” he said when he stood in front of her, and the sound of his voice was deep and as sexy as the rest of him.
Cree heard Shantel whimper, and she couldn’t much blame her. This was all part of the power that Tristan willed over unsuspecting women.
His gaze swept the length of Cree’s body before returning to her eyes. Then he held up a thick manila envelope in his right hand, which was when she noted the bling on one of his fingers and more around his wrist.
His wealth was showing on every part of his body, and it all looked good on him.
Tristan moved even closer and lowered his voice. “We can either talk now, or we can have this conversation over dinner tonight. Your choice.”