Chapter 14
Liam
“Don’t get any ideas, Stone. This is not a date.” Roxy points her finger at me like a weapon when we enter the elevator.
She’s standing as far from me as possible, and I want to inch closer to get a hit of that lavender Roxy scent.
My self-control must have stayed on the West Coast. I step farther away, just to make sure I don’t sniff her.
“I wouldn’t dare. I’m very compliant with the no-fraternization policy.” I smirk.
The memory of her mouth on my lips, her hands on my chest, and her wet pussy on my thigh fills the small space around us.
Roxy groans, pink tainting her cheekbones. She covers her face with her hands. “This was a mistake,” she murmurs into her palms.
“You mentioned that already,” I grumble.
It’s quite satisfying to see her squirm. While she’s revisiting the memory with way more regret than it warrants, my gaze drops to the soft sway of her ass.
The linen pulls taut over every curve when she shifts her weight. The pants hug that artwork of an ass before they flare out, hiding her legs, which, in my opinion, is a travesty.
The leather jacket seems overkill given the current heatwave. Or my perverted need to see more of the corset she’s hiding underneath.
The urge to see her naked punches through me, sharp and sudden, and now I’m the one squirming. Fuck. This is going to be a long evening.
Frankly, I’m surprised she agreed to this date. Not a date. It’s not a date, but a celebration of our win with Hearthstone Foods.
We walk across the street to the steakhouse.
“I don’t understand why you are in a celebratory mood,” Roxy says as we enter the restaurant. “It must have stung that I was the one presenting to Vireon.”
It didn’t, but I can’t tell her that. She’s been snooping around enough to uncover holes in my story. As far as she’s concerned, Merged is my target. And I need it to stay that way.
The restaurant is full of the business crowd and low chatter. The warm, smoky scent of seared meat curls through the air. This place buzzes with the same relentless energy as the first time I was here.
The night I met Roxy.
The night before she met me.
Maybe I should tell her I’m Romeo, but I don’t think that would go down well with her. The way she reacted to our kiss with a happy ending, she would be mortified if she knew what else we had already done together.
But now I can’t erase from my mind her swaying hips as she bent over for me that night. I shift my weight.
“It doesn’t matter who presented. We got both parties on board in the end. That’s a reason to celebrate.”
And get to know you better. Well enough to get to your father.
She stops halfway to the hostess and studies me, with a frown that suits her almost as much as her smile.
“What?” I shrug. “This is more of a competition for you than it is for me.”
She scoffs. “You’re so sure you’ll win, aren’t you?”
The hostess grabs two ridiculously large menus and leads us to our table.
I put my hand on the small of Roxy’s back as we navigate between the tables.
The motion is automatic, but I’m immediately too aware of her heat. Fuck, I’m going to spend tonight at half-mast.
At the table, I pull a chair out for Roxy and nod to the hostess, who luckily gets the message and scurries away.
As she sits down, I lean in and whisper to her, “I don’t need to win.”
She takes a sharp intake of breath, her shoulders drawing together. She shakes her head. “And you probably will.”
The hint of resignation in her voice pisses me off. I flex my fingers and take a seat across from her. “Giving up already, Thunder?”
“Come on, Stone, you have an advantage. As much as I want this for myself, you have more experience, more money, and a penis, which positions you well ahead of me.”
“Why are you selling yourself short?”
She snorts. “I’m just stating the facts.”
I flex my fingers again. “You have their trust, which I reckon outweighs even my impressive cock.”
She rolls her eyes, but the corners of her lips twitch. Instead of a response, she picks up the menu and disappears behind it.
I reach over and lower it enough to meet her gaze. “They already gave you five percent. They want you at the table.”
“That five percent is a consolation prize. It promotes me from a note-taker to a glorified note-taker.”
“You should give yourself more credit. If you see yourself as a note-taker, that’s what they will accept.
Today, Corm trusted you with one of his largest clients.
And instead of feeling proud, you’re focusing on some outdated beliefs.
If this were about gender, experience, or money, I would be partner already. ”
She blinks a few times. “Are you trying to lull me into a false sense of belief that I actually have a chance?”
Fucking woman. That’s what she got out of my speech? “I’m telling you I’m impressed, and so are Corm and Cal. Just take the fucking compliment, Roxy.”
She lowers her eyes. Her throat works.
I lift the menu now. I’m not even sure why I’m irritated. Her foregone conclusion that she has no chance irritates me.
If I weren’t here, she would get the twenty-percent. That’s a fact. One I push away, because I’m not here to help her. I’m here to exploit her.
I’ve spent ten years trying to undermine my father; I’m not going to falter now because of a woman.
Regardless of how attractive and formidable she is. Or how alive she makes me feel. Or that she somehow inspires me to act selflessly.
I’m not giving up on my revenge because of someone who actively hates me. And hates herself for wanting me physically.
I shouldn’t care.
I shouldn’t be cheering her on.
I’m here to use her, not build her up.
And yet… I can’t help myself.
She sighs. “I grew up with men who made me feel less. Who never took me seriously. I know that Corm and Cal give me credit where credit is due, and I’m not being fair lumping them together with other men. But I also recognize they will make a profit-oriented decision.”
I lower the menu before I break it. She mentioned her upbringing. This is my opportunity to open the door to talk about her family.
I want to get to her father. But I want her trust more. Goddammit.
Once again, I push my agenda aside, because something in me stirs at her words. At her naked vulnerability.
Or maybe I’m a bit drunk on the fact that she opened up to me for the first time. I’m not even sure why that fragile trust makes me feel like I just conquered a mountain.
I can’t help myself. She is always full of gumption and sass. I can’t feed into this dejected version of her.
I lower the menu. “Thunder, you’re terrible at this celebrating-our-win thing.
” I lighten the mood before I bore my gaze into hers, so she can’t escape the reality anymore.
“You came up with the idea of a phased approach; you presented it to old Miller and impressed him despite his prejudice; you deserve the seat at the table, and Corm gave it to you when he asked you to present. So really, this is your win, and I’m just tagging along. ”
She swallows.
“Be a good girl now and repeat after me: I deserve to be a partner because I’m Roxy fucking Moretti.”
Heat colors her cheeks pink, and her pupils dilate as she parts her lips, her tongue darting out. A pulse quickens in her throat.
Fuck. My. Life.
Some of our interactions slam into me and form a picture. A heady picture. She gets off on praise. My cock stiffens.
Under different circumstances, she would be the perfect woman for me.
She straightens her shoulders and gives me a lopsided smile. “I deserve to be a partner because I’m Roxy fucking Moretti.”
“Well done, Thunder.”
Her breath hitches, and for a moment I forget everything else besides a visceral need to praise her more.
Not only because it makes me hard. But because she fucking deserves it, and clearly her family never bothered.
“Are you ready to order?” The server snaps me back to reality.
Roxy jumps like she was caught naked. “What do you recommend?”
We order. The steaks buy me time to get my shit together.
Roxy grunts. “It’s so hot in here.” She takes a generous sip of water, and then eviscerates my brain when she takes off the jacket.
The slopes of her tender shoulders glow under the ambient lighting, and I force myself to keep my eyes there. I lose that battle too fast, dropping my gaze. Her breasts swell out of the corset in two perfect half globes.
Fuck, if she lifts her arms, her nipples might peek out. It takes all my weakened willpower not to demand she put her jacket back on. It would certainly return the blood flow to my brain.
And I wouldn’t need to kill all the other male patrons here.
“My eyes are up here, Stone.” Roxy straightens her shoulders, her corset-clad chest now completely on display.
So now she found her confidence, little minx. Goddammit, where the hell is the wine we ordered?
As if my thought summoned the sommelier, she appears with our bottle, and I rip it out of her hands.
“We’re good,” I tell her, and fill my glass. Damn my manners; this is an emergency.
The sommelier takes the bottle from me with an appalled look. I deserve it. She pours some wine for Roxy and leaves, shaking her head at me.
“I like your style,” I say as soon as I drain the glass, finding some semblance of equilibrium.
Roxy laughs. “You don’t need to flatter me.”
“It’s not flattery, Thunder. While I’m puzzled by some of your choices, you make them work.”
“Some of my choices?” she teases, leaning on her forearms, which only makes her cleavage more dangerous.
“Okay, most of them. Though tonight’s choice is testing my limits.”
“Behave yourself,” she warns, smirking. She is enjoying my apparent discomfort too much.
“I’m trying,” I groan, and she laughs.
And while the situation in my pants is still painfully inconvenient, her laugh breaks the tension somewhat. It feels good to make her laugh.
“What inspired the style?”
“The need to rebel.” She smiles, and I realize she doesn’t do that often, and it’s a shame.
The lighting here makes her glow, her face almost angelic.
“Against?”
“My father mostly.”
And here is my other opening, and this time, I take it. “I take it he doesn’t approve.”
“Which is why I never outgrew the phase and instead grew into liking the style. In a world where everything is expected by peers, bosses, colleagues, families, I have my wardrobe to choose the unexpected. To fight against convention.”
“Or to create your own.” I raise my glass and take a decent sip this time.
“Or create my own.” She smiles again.
Our gazes lock, and we linger in a moment that feels too raw to digest. And yet too real to ignore.
The intimacy of it scares me, so I focus on my mission here. “Are you close to your father?”
“Are you close to Xander and Lottie?” she counters, tapping her fingers on the table, avoiding the answer.
And while her question falls out with ease, and she doesn’t break our gaze, her shoulders stiffen.
She’s trying to navigate away from her family, and failing to hide her discomfort with the topic.
“That’s not fair. You know a lot about my family, and I know nothing,” I push.
She looks down and plays with a simple band on her finger. She either contemplates her answer or whether to share at all.
Finally, she looks up. “I have three brothers and a sister.”
Not very good at sharing, I see. Or I’m still on her shit list. Gaining her trust might be impossible. The idea of failure doesn’t sit well. I must break through her wall.
“What do they do?” I decide to keep her engaged. I also realize that I want her to share.
Not because of my agenda, but because of her. I push the notion aside. This is getting too convoluted.
I need to focus.
She is a means to an end. And, as I’m learning, she’s only a stepping stone to her father, and probably not the best one.
“My brothers? Just like you, they plow through life doing our father’s bidding while believing they are building a legacy.”
I frown. “Is that what you think of me?”
She drinks more water, leaving her wine untouched. “Isn’t building the Stone legacy your birth-given purpose in life?”
“Fuck that. Would I be here if I were into that legacy bullshit?”
“I guess not.” She studies me for a beat. “You keep surprising me.”
I chuckle. “You are not what I expected either.”
Shit. I shouldn’t have had expectations. She believes I came to New York to get into Merged.
“You didn’t answer me before. Are you close to Xander and Lottie?”
She pivoted the conversation without my realizing it.
God, she is refreshing. I don’t want her to focus on my slip-up, so I indulge her.
“Reasonably. With Xander, we used to be very close, until we weren’t.
Lottie will forever be my little sister.
She is a pain in the ass, but I will always have her back. ”
“What about your parents?”
“I’m closer to my mother.” I leave Sterling out of this conversation. “What about you? Are you close to your father?”
She flinches, but the moment gets interrupted when our meal arrives.
We eat in silence. Perhaps this is as far as I will get in the conversation.
“He never cared much for a daughter.” Roxy surprises me.
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said. A son is an asset. A daughter is a burden. Mom died, and he never had time for me or my sister. His attention has always been on business.”
Sadness and bitterness hum in her voice, and I’m blindsided by the need to punch her father.
I drop my need to find out more, because this beautiful, strong creature doesn’t need another man to disappoint her.
And I won’t.
At least not tonight.