16. Austin
CHAPTER 16
Austin
H er legs shake and tremble like a baby deer when she climbs down from her bike. A few stray tendrils that have fallen loose from her ponytail cling to her neck with sweat.
“How was it?”
She nods, wiping her face with her towel. “Not too bad.”
“Yeah?” I can’t hold back my laughter. “You sure about that? Because you look like you’re two shades away from being a tomato.”
“I was pushing myself for the charity cause.”
One thing about Taylor, she’ll never admit when she’s wrong, but it’s cute.
“How’d your top work out for you?” I toss my towel over my shoulder as we walk out of the studio.
“Fine.” She glances down at her still red chest. “How’d it work out for you—you were the one staring.”
“I wouldn’t say staring, more like admiring. Also making sure nothing came flying out.”
She laughs and it feels good to have banter back between us, even if it is heavily laden with sexual innuendo.
“Oh, how’d I do?” She spins around to check the TV at the front of the room, scanning the list of names for hers, disappointment registering when she sees where she landed. “Damn, how am I almost dead last after I busted my ass in there?”
“Those people are animals.” I drape my arm over her shoulders as we step out onto the sidewalk, her skin still warm and sticky with sweat. “You just need to work on your cardio.”
She looks up at me. “I’m waiting.”
“For what?”
She pulls herself from beneath my arm. “Some comment about how I can improve my cardio?”
“Well.” I play coy. “I’ve invited you to go running on the lakefront with me. The offer still stands.”
“Yeah, I’ll still pass.” She turns to walk down the sidewalk but I stand still.
“What am I allowed to say?”
“What do you want to say?” She turns around to face me, walking back slowly.
She’s baiting me. I can see it in her eyes, that same back and forth struggle of should we as she tiptoes around the line.
Then it hits me.
She likes this game.
This fucked-up little mind game she’s playing with me.
She likes the innuendos, the comments, the stares.
She likes being teased.
She likes being tempted.
“Why didn’t you respond to my text?”
Her face falls, clearly not the response she expected.
“I— I should have. I’m sorry.”
We continue down the block, neither of us adding any more to the conversation, but I can feel the tension building. Finally, she stops and looks at me.
“Did you mean it?”
Do I tell her yes because I want to mean it? Or be honest with myself and her?
“Do you agree I never should have kissed you?”
I’m staring down at her, both of us waiting on the other to say or do something.
“I— I thought you said it because you felt that way after finding out about that night—that I went to Noah’s.”
My stomach sours at the memory but the look in her eyes feels so much worse. “No.” I brush her hair from her face. “That’s not why I said it, Taylor, and I never should have made you feel bad for your own decisions that night.”
Her eyes soften and she steps an inch closer. “Really? I thought…”
She doesn’t have to explain what she thought. I behaved like a dick. I want to pull her to me, kiss her, hold her, remind her how good I can make her feel, but I stop. That’s not what she needs right now. That’s not part of my plan to tease her.
“I’m sorry.”
“So.” Her head tilts. “You didn’t mean it, then?”
She looks up at me, her breasts almost pressed against me.
“Maybe I didn’t,” I say through a nervous chuckle, “but for now”—I wink and wrap my arm around her shoulders again—“let’s get back to being friends.”
I t wasn’t Monday’s spin class, not even watching Taylor’s tits bounce in my mind in slow motion on repeat.
It wasn’t even the tense seconds we were alone in the elevator or hallway of the office.
But what really surprised me was that it wasn’t even the hot yoga class I barely survived with her. Between her heavy breathing in some very erotic poses with sweat dripping from her body and the deep stretching we did afterward, I thought for sure I’d cave and invite her back to my place.
But I didn’t.
Even when I noticed her watching me peel my shirt from my body after class or the way she let me rub her neck when we walked back to her place.
It was today… Just a normal day in the office that finally broke me.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Taylor glances around my office, her bag on her arm, keys in her hand. “What’s all this?”
I look up from the papers surrounding my feet on the floor. “Just trying to find an error.”
“An error?” She steps through the doorway, letting her bag and keys fall onto a chair.
“Yeah, I told Gary I’d do an audit of his sister’s finances and I know she’s being ripped off. I’m just trying to find the source.”
She doesn’t think twice and picks up a stack of the papers and starts going through where I’ve made annotations and highlights.
“Well, it has to be here somewhere, right?”
“You’re not staying. Go home.” I try to insist she not waste her night but it’s no use. “There’s no rush on this anyway. I’m just killing time.”
“It’ll be like old times, us working late.” She smiles briefly but turns her attention back to the report. “Besides, what the hell else am I going to do on a weekday night?”
“Grab a drink with Becca? Have a social life.” I start listing things off, tossing out an idea to see if it piques her interest. “Go on a date?”
She looks up from the paper, trying to assess if I’m serious or not. When I don’t smile or make an accompanying joke, she shrugs. “Maybe. I guess I should put some effort into downloading a dating app.”
“Oh yeah? Got a type in mind for the next guy?” I keep my tone casual as I sort through my own stack of reports, like we’re talking about the weather.
She tilts her head dramatically as if she’s thinking. “Hmm, good question. I’m thinking a guy who doesn’t know boundaries.” My head snaps up and she flashes me a grin.
“Interesting. You like that kind of guy?” My focus drifts back to the reports.
“Oh, I don’t know about that, but I tend to attract them. You know, the type that likes to take what he wants without even considering the consequences of his actions.”
“I know the type.” I chuckle. “I prefer to think of those guys as passionate. They aren’t afraid to take control, really show someone what they’re missing, show them how to relax and get the giant stick out of their ass.”
She scoffs, our flirty banter quickly starting to turn into passive-aggressive territory. “The guy I’m thinking of wouldn’t be concerned about what’s up my ass because he wouldn’t be into that sort of thing.”
“Ha!” I drop my hands to my sides. “Every man who has ever wanted to fuck you or thought about fucking you is into that sort of thing.”
“I highly doubt?—”
“Every. Single. One,” I interrupt her, both of us now looking at each other.
“Including you?”
“There isn’t enough room in your ass for that stick and my…” I turn back to the reports in my hands, reminding myself not to let her get to me like this because this is when I always lose control.
You also got yourself into this mess by bringing up dating, you fucking idiot! You used to have game.
“And your what?” Her hand is resting on her cocked hip, a smirk playing at her lips. “That’s what I thought,” she murmurs when I don’t give her the satisfaction of a response.
I really do try to stay focused on what I’m supposed to be doing… for at least five minutes, but her snotty little attitude eats at me, and it takes everything I have not to remind her the way she trembled when I was fingering her.
“You know when you taste something so sinfully good?” My voice breaks the comfortable silence that has settled between us. “That kind of flavor that just melts on your tongue, makes your eyes close and maybe a moan even escapes your lips when you’re just thinking about it?” I look up from the paper I’m holding and see Taylor staring forward, her eyes looking straight past the report in her hand. “That lick your fingers clean , would be your death row meal kind of delicious?”
“What about it?” Her voice cracks.
“I’ve had that craving on my tongue the last few days.” She’s staring at me, and if she could see the wanton look on her face right now, she’d be mortified. But it’s exactly the look I’m after. I’ve baited her, got her wanting more, and now she can sit and ache.
“I can’t seem to satisfy it no matter what I eat.” I shrug. “Anyway, try to think of something that sounds that delicious for us to eat when we finish this up.” I gesture with the reports, flashing her a brief smile before turning around and focusing my full attention on knocking this project out.
It’s several long seconds before I hear her clear her throat and the slight rustling of papers signals she’s back to work as well.
We spend the next three hours combing through stacks of reports, finally finding the source of where her previous advisor was skimming from one of her investment accounts.
“I’m exhausted.” She yawns, reaching beneath my desk to grab her shoes she kicked off earlier. “And starving.”
“Same.” I stand and stretch, watching her bend over to slip her foot into one of her slingback heels. It’s only now that I notice they’re red-bottomed Louboutins.
Fuck.
My mouth waters. Her matching red fingernails dancing across the delicate gold buckle of the ankle strap catch my eye.
“You still want to grab something to eat?” She slips the other shoe on, standing back up and straightening her fitted black dress into place.
“Sure,” I reply, completely distracted when she leans forward again to grab something on my desk. “What are you in the mood for?” But she doesn’t reply. I glance up at her face, her eyes watching me with a knowing look.
“What are you in the mood for, Austin?”
“I wasn’t picturing you naked in them,” I say quickly, nodding toward her heels. “Well, I wasn’t at first,” I correct, “but fuck it, I am now.” I let my eyes wander slowly up her body, expecting a snarky comment, but she simply ignores my advances, looping her purse over her arm and grabbing her keys.
“We could order something, have it delivered to your place,” she says, her face not giving away whatever is going through her head right now. But once our eyes lock, I see what she’s not saying. What she’s attempting to hide.
“Sounds like a good plan.” I don’t bother to put my office back in order. Instead, I walk us out of my office and into the elevator just a moment later, the energy between us changing by the second.
“What about that Thai place?”
“Mmm. Works for me.” I agree, punching the button to close the elevator doors.
They close and the numbers start to descend. With everyone else gone for the night, the elevator makes no other unscheduled stops.
We’re almost to the garage.
My hands are in my pockets.
My eyes are no longer able to stay forward.
“Are those the ones you bought when you broke up?” I nod toward her shoes, the muscle of her slender calf flexing slightly.
“Yes.”
“They look nice.”
“Thank you.” Her tone is clipped if not a touch strained.
Once in the car, I rest my hand firmly on her thigh, the other on the steering wheel.
The drive to my place is quick at this hour, the regular business traffic long gone for the day. I step on the gas, weaving in and out of what little traffic there is. It’s nowhere near reckless but we’re both aware of the high rate of speed I’m driving, only adding to the tension.
Once parked, we get out and I lock my car, the echoes of our footsteps surrounding us as we exit my garage and enter the elevator. I scan my fob, hitting the button for the penthouse, Taylor standing right next to me. My eyes are drawn back down to her feet, the image of her delicate heels up by my ears taking control of me. I close my eyes briefly, the sweet lingering notes of her perfume hitting my nostrils.
I try to contain it. I drag my hand over my jaw, willing myself to maintain control. She feels it, without even telling me it’s evident, given her body language.
Up until now, I didn’t have a plan. I didn’t know if I was going to snap. I really thought that I could talk myself out of it. That I could be the good guy who is just a friend to her, but it’s no use.
We both know where this is going. We both want where this is going.
“You know I’m going to fuck you in those heels tonight, right?” I finally say, my hand falling to my belt.
She nods, her response quick and confident. “Yes.”