20. Genevieve
Chapter twenty
Genevieve
The ballroom pulsed louder around me as the hours passed. Glasses clinking harder, laughter rising higher, music weaving through the tension in the room.
I wasn’t looking at Gregory anymore. Or at Cheryl’s perfect posture, the way her hand slid down his sleeve like it had done it a hundred times before.
I didn’t care. Or I was trying not to.
I was too busy searching the room for him.
Reid had been at the bar not even ten minutes ago, watching me converse with Eleanor before she had to slip away to talk to her husband. I could feel his eyes on me as a man made me laugh more than I had in the last week without intending to.
Reid had been watching everything and everyone. I’d felt his gaze the entire night.
But now? He was gone.
No trace of him in the crowd, no sign of his pristine black suit or cutting stare. No sharp jawline in the corner of my eye. It worried me, despite my better judgement.
“Genevieve.”
The sound of my name pulled my spine straight.
Gregory stood beside me now for the first time tonight, finally done avoiding me.
Cheryl was with him, not as close as before but close enough.
Looking beautiful as always, her hair perfectly done, dress framing her in ways that would guarantee her more than just Gregory’s attention.
I turned slowly, letting my gaze settle fully on them. Gregory looked handsome, put together despite the crumbling man he was behind closed doors. His scent had mixed in with hers, her perfume radiating off him.
I ignored it as I plastered a smile on my face, the same smile I’d practiced over and over again.
“Gregory, you made it.”
He smiled. “Had to. Couldn’t let Reid steal the spotlight completely…” The laugh that followed was dry and forced. Then, casually, he gestured to the woman beside him. “I don’t think I ever had the chance to introduce you to Cheryl. She’s been with the company a few years now.”
My smile remained in place, not faltering once. As if I hadn’t spent the last forty-five minutes watching her laugh beside him.
I had already memorized the cut of her dress, the curl of her hair, the way her hand hovered at the small of his back like it had the right to be there. And I counted every single second she occupied the space that used to be mine.
I reminded myself that my initial introduction to her was on my own terms. It came long before he ever had the nerve to say her name to me. As far as I knew, Gregory had no idea I knew of the woman who frequented his office throughout the day.
I stood. “It’s lovely to meet you,” I said softly, extending my hand.
Cheryl’s expression flickered, probably thinking of the times she’d caught my lingering gazes. She knew I’d seen her. Knew I’d watched her hang off the arm of the father of my son.
But then she smiled anyway. It was flawless and practiced. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”
When I pulled away to sit back down, Gregory turned his attention to her, leaving me alone in my thoughts. In the midst of their conversation, my eyes glanced around the room, landing on Reid re-entering the ballroom as a breath left me unintentionally.
His shoulders were tense, his jaw set, hair slightly tousled from his hands running through it.
There was something off in his face—distress, maybe. Or something worse.
I offered a faint smile. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back,” I murmured, already stepping past them.
They didn’t even seem to notice my disappearance.
Reid disappeared from view, heading for the doors that led to the outside balcony, and I followed him, my heart racing as the noise dulled in the background.
The doors closed behind me with a muted thud, sealing off the world.
My eyes landed on him standing near the edge of the balcony, one hand braced against the railing, his back to me. The cold air kissed the bare skin at my shoulders, but I barely felt it.
Reid didn’t turn right away, but he knew I was there. Felt me the same way I had always felt him. For a second, I thought maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I shouldn’t have come.
Then he spoke, his voice rough. “You shouldn’t be out here.”
“I could say the same to you.”
He exhaled through his nose, but still didn’t look back. I slowly moved closer, my heart pounding in my chest. Something was definitely wrong. “Reid…” I said, softer now. “What’s wrong?”
“You shouldn’t have followed me,” he reiterated.
“You shouldn’t have dragged me here if you were just going to leave me alone the entire night. I didn’t have a choice…”
“You had the choice to not follow me.”
I actually didn’t… not really. There had been an ever-growing pull between us getting stronger by the day. Every time I fought it I still ended up in his arms.
“I don’t think I did,” I whispered back.
That made him turn, slow. His eyes found mine. And just like that, everything else disappeared.
There was something feral behind his gaze. Something stronger than before. The anger in his eyes was more vivid. The rage that had always simmered beneath was boiling at the surface. The lust, the need that he kept under control, was unraveling.
“You always have a choice, Genevieve,” he said coldly, taking long and steady footsteps toward me. “You just never make the right one.”
My jaw tightened. “And dragging me to this gala was the right choice?”
“You’re the one who wanted to play pretend. I gave you the stage to do it.” His eyes locked on mine, dark and hungry.
For a second, neither of us moved. We just stood there. The world around us seemed to slow.
Then his mouth crashed to mine.
The kiss felt like a collapse. A resurgence of the past. A descent into our ruin. And I let it happen. I needed it to happen.
His hand slid into my hair, pulling just enough to tilt my head back, his lips devouring mine like he hadn’t tasted anything like it in years. His other hand, hot and possessive, gripped my hip, dragging me against him until there wasn’t an inch left between us.
I gasped as my back hit the cold stone wall, but he swallowed the sound before his mouth moved down to my neck. His teeth grazed skin. Gone was the restraint or gentleness. That version of him, of us, was gone.
“You shouldn’t…” I whispered, breathless. “Someone could see—”
“Let them.”
The words vibrated against my throat, so dangerous and dark. Before I could breathe, he pinned me harder against the stone, his body caging mine, the cold wall biting into my spine while the heat of him threatened to melt every inch of me.
His knee slid between my legs, forcing them apart just enough to make my breath hitch.
His hand gripped my jaw, tilting my face up, claiming control. Our years apart hadn’t made either of us forget.
I held eye contact as his hand slid down my side, fingers hooking the slit of my gown, pulling it higher…
and higher along my thigh. My body shuddered.
The cold night air hit my skin, but his palm followed immediately after, dragging up my leg.
His hand found the flimsy material of my lace before he pulled it down agonizingly slowly.
“Someone could walk out,” I whispered again, weaker this time.
He quirked an eyebrow, eyes dark and blown wide with hunger as they lowered to his hand.
“And?”
“And—” I tried, even as my hips rolled into him without permission, my fingers twisted into his jacket, trying to anchor myself. “We can’t…” I whispered.
Another useless, broken lie. Because I didn’t stop him when he dragged the lace down my thighs, slow enough to make me feel every inch of air against my skin.
Or when he lifted the flimsy scrap of fabric to his nose, inhaled like it was a drug, then tucked it into his back pocket to keep.
And I definitely didn’t stop him when he squeezed my jaw. Hard, firm fingers digging into my cheeks, peeling my mouth open for him, before he crushed his mouth to mine again.
His tongue shoved deep past my lips, his taste consuming and invasive. A muffled moan tore straight from my throat, my knees almost giving out.
His hand slid down, hooking under my thigh, dragging my leg around his waist as he pinned me harder to the stone. My dress rode up with the movement, pooling around my hips, leaving me exposed to the night and to him.
Then I felt him, thick and hard. His cock pressed right against my stomach, pulsing with every breath he took. My fingers clawed at him for purchase, sliding up the broad plane of his chest, digging into his shoulders, desperate for anywhere to hold on.
My arms wrapped around his neck instantly when his hand left my face and slipped between us, his fingers teasing along my clit before he pushed deeper into my core, curling just right.
My mouth fell open on a gasp, my fingernails digging into his neck as his fingers thrusted again, the heat of him grinding against my stomach like he was seconds away from losing control.
I was close, so close, my walls clenching around his fingers, my breath coming in short gasps as the pressure built—and then his hand stilled before his fingers pulled out. I whimpered at the loss, my body screaming for release.
He ignored my protests, grabbing my thigh, hiking it higher around his waist, and with his other hand, he freed himself, the hot, heavy length of him springing free, throbbing and needy.
Then he pushed in.
Slow at first, the thick stretch making my nails drag down his back. My head hit the stone. My vision went white at the edges.
“God, Reid—”
“I know,” he breathed, biting my shoulder to keep himself from losing control. “Fuck, I know.” When he bottomed out, his body froze against mine, chest shaking with restraint. “You’re still so…” He swallowed hard, jaw clenched. “…tight for me.”
His hands held me steady as he moved again, and I clutched him tighter. We stayed that way for a second before his restraint shattered, his hips pulling back before he slammed into me.