24. Berkley
Promises, Promises
It had been well documented that Brent in a suit did funny things to my insides, making me want to get on my knees at his feet and beg him to do terribly dirty things to me—fantasies I knew he’d be all too happy to indulge.
When he arrived to pick me up, my mouth dried out when I opened the door to let him in. Every inch of him, from head to toe, was clad in black. His tuxedo jacket was soft velvet, the lapels satin. He wore shiny dress shoes on his feet, and his dark hair was slicked back from his face. Even from a few feet away, I could smell the coconut oil and aloe vera pomade he favored, mixed with that fresh, crisp scent of his cologne. As long as I lived, that particular blend would always remind me of him. The freshly shaved skin of his face was smooth, though forever shadowed by the threat of a beard.
I took the bouquet of peonies he brought me and hustled back into the kitchen to drop them in a vase. His arms were spread wide when I returned, waiting. Happily, I stepped into his embrace and tipped my head back to kiss him. He swept his tongue into my mouth, twining it with mine. For several long moments, we remained there, mouths fused, until I pulled away and sucked in a shaky breath.
“Brent?” I said, resting my forehead against his chest.
“Yes?”
“If we don’t get out of this apartment right now, we’re not making it to the ball.”
“And why is that, my dear?” he asked sweetly, bending to nuzzle my neck.
“Brent!” I said halfheartedly, pushing him away. When I looked up at him, I giggled at my lipstick smeared across his mouth. Tugging his wrist, I pulled him deeper into my apartment to clean him up.
“Wait, I thought you said we should be leaving?”
“We should be,” I said, wetting a paper towel under the faucet and approaching him. “But you’re covered in red lipstick. We don’t need everyone knowing what we were doing before we got there.”
“I don’t mind,” Brent said, his grin making it difficult to clean his face.
“Well I do,” I said. “These people are classmates and colleagues and potential industry contacts. I need to make a good impression.”
“In this dress? That won’t be an issue.” Brent stepped into me again, hands skating up and down my sides. “It’s giving me all kinds of ideas.”
“What, this old thing?” I asked cheekily, gesturing at myself.
The dress I’d chosen was deep red satin with a slit up the right side that stopped mid-thigh. It had a tight bodice with spaghetti straps that crisscrossed and tied at the base of my spine, leaving my entire back exposed, and fell all the way to the floor in a full skirt. I’d gathered my hair in a loose chignon at the nape of my neck.
“Yes, that old thing,” he said sarcastically, ushering me out of the apartment.
“What kind of ideas are we talking about here?” I asked as we stepped into the elevator.
“Tonight, when we get home, the first thing I’m going to do is push you back against this door and stick my head under those skirts. Get you nice and worked up with my mouth.”
His voice was a warm caress that warded off the chilly breeze when we stepped outside.
“Then?” I prompted once we’d settled in his truck. My clit already tingled, and I shifted in my seat in hopes of alleviating some of the pressure.
It didn’t work, especially not after Brent’s next words.
“And then,” he said conversationally as he back out of the parking space, “when you come so hard your knees go weak, I’m going to haul you upstairs, spread you out on the bed, and fuck you while you’re still wearing it.”
“Why wait for a bed?” I said, voice betraying my frayed nerves. “Maybe you should just take me right there against the door.”
Brent spared me a quick glance before returning his eyes to the road. “I like the way you think, Daniels.”
“I’ve always wanted you to fuck me fully clothed,” I admitted. “Something about you needing me so bad that you can’t wait for either of us to get undressed would be really hot.”
Now it was Brent’s turn to shift in his seat, his hand falling to his lap to adjust himself while he drove.
I giggled. “And now you know what you’re doing to me. What you’ve been doing to me since you showed up at my door in that tux with my favorite flowers.”
“How wet are you?”
I shivered, clenching my thighs together. “Very.”
“Show me.”
With no further prompting, I slipped my fingers into the slit of my dress and brushed them across my pussy, holding my hand out for Brent to inspect.
“Fuck, baby,” he said, grabbing my hand and bringing my fingers to his mouth. Once he’d sucked them clean, he said, “So good.”
“You’re unhinged.”
“Only for you,” he said with a wink.
I could only smile back. “The feeling is mutual.”
“How late do we have to stay at this thing, anyway?”
“Someone is eager.”
“To get you naked and lick that pretty pink pussy until you’re screaming my name? Fuck yeah, I am. Always.”
I grabbed his free hand and squeezed, needing to touch him and not allowing myself anything more than this simple, chaste bit of contact.
“We have to stay at least until the auction is over and all the winners are announced,” I said. “Since I helped plan this thing, that’s the best I can do.”
Once we’d pulled into the lot outside the Colony Club, Brent parked and turned to me. “Berk, if I don’t get you home and naked at a halfway decent time, there’s no telling what I might do.”
“Such as?”
He didn’t answer right away, choosing instead to get out of the truck and come around to my side. “Like,” he said, leaning close when he lifted me out and set me down, “pulling you into the first empty room we can find and having my way with you.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“I guess you’ll have to wait and see,” he said, his final word on the subject. I gave him a frustrated sigh and took his arm.
Stepping inside the building was like walking into a fairytale. The ballroom was brightly lit with twinkly lights, a red carpet paving the way to the festivities. White flowers spilled out of centerpieces on each of the fifty tables and out of tall pots placed around the dance floor. On the far side, a long table was laden with the silent auction items.
The live band played an Etta James classic softly, the lead singer’s voice the perfect serene backdrop as people milled around, socializing. Opposite the dance floor, a cash bar was set up.
“This is amazing,” Brent said. “The Warriors’ gala isn’t even this fancy.”
“That’s because hockey players aren’t as snobby as lawyers.”
“I suppose that’s probably true. So what do you want to do first?”
“Drinks, please.”
At the bar, I got caught up in conversation with a few of my classmates and a professor, and Brent wandered off to check out the auction table. As I drained the final drops of my first glass of wine, Brent reappeared at my side, ordering us another round as the lead singer of the band announced dinner would be served momentarily.
The food was delicious, the lemon garlic salmon perfectly prepared and seasoned, with steamed vegetables, quinoa, and crème br?lée for dessert. Conversation at our table flowed smoothly, and no one batted an eye at the fact that my date was a well-known professional athlete. For that, I was immensely grateful.
Once dinner was completed and our plates were cleared away, there was a brief interlude to refresh our drinks before the silent auction winners were announced.
“Only another hour,” I said to Brent, who grimaced at me before peeling away to refresh our drinks.
Harper and Ryan appeared a moment later. Hugs and compliments were exchanged, then Ryan said, “Where’s your man?”
“Right here,” Brent said from behind me, handing me a glass of wine and settling a hand on my lower back. My skin seared beneath his palm, my pulse ticking up a notch at the promise and possessiveness in that simple touch.
This man—he handled my body as easily as he handled a puck, as in tune with me as he was with teammates and opponents during a game. At first, it had been disconcerting, but now I relaxed into it. I’d never had anyone get me so wholly, and I never wanted to let him go. I hoped we never lost the connection.
“Harper, Ryan,” I said, “this is my boyfriend, Brent.”
Brent smiled and stuck out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you both,” he said. “It’s nice to finally put faces to the names of people monopolizing all of my girl’s time.”
Where Ryan was apparently too star-struck to immediately respond, Harper smiled and said, “I think you’re the one monopolizing all of her time.”
I gasped. “Harper!”
“What? It’s kind of true. You’ve been all about him since you started dating.”
I glanced up at Brent with a soft smile. “Can you blame me?”
Harper didn’t respond, but Ryan, finally finding his voice, said, “Holy shit, you’re Brent Jean.”
Brent laughed and nodded, cutting his eyes to mine, which I rolled. “I sure am.”
I snapped my fingers in front of Ryan’s face and said, “Get it together, Ry. Tonight, he’s just my boyfriend.”
Ryan snorted. “Right. I don’t think I can pretend he’s just some random guy you’re dating and not a literal professional athlete.”
“Try harder,” I said through clenched teeth.
Brent shifted next to me. “It’s okay, Berk. I’m used to it.”
Angling my body toward him, putting Ryan and Harper at my back, I gazed up into his face. The corner of his lip twitched, a telltale side that he wasn’t as calm as he’d have me believe. “Just because you’re used to it doesn’t mean you should have to put up with it,” I said quietly.
“Berkley,” Brent warned, “we are not arguing about this right now.”
“You’re right; we’re not arguing. I’m simply stating a fact.”
Before Brent could respond, an announcement rang out inviting us to take our seats so the social chair of our class could announce the silent auction winners.
I gave my classmate my full attention, listening intently and clapping politely as each name was announced, the winner approaching the stage to accept their prize before being escorted to the back to settle up on their bid.
“And the winner of the four-day, all-expenses-paid trip to Aspen for next winter is…Brent Jean!”
The answering applause was surprised and subdued. I watched in horror as heads swiveled around, searching out my boyfriend. With a name like that, and a face as easily recognizable as his, he wasn’t difficult to spot.
And when gazes eventually landed on him, the whispers started.
“Holy shit, that really is him.”
“Oh, my God. He’s so hot.”
“Why is he here?”
“Think he’d take a picture with us?”
“He’s dating her?”
“I don’t know what he sees in that Berkley girl anyway. She’s not even that pretty.”
“And not nearly as smart as she thinks she is.”
My blood pressure rose with each word, and Harper reached out to grip my hand. “Deep breaths, Berk. It’s fine. You know it’s all bullshit.”
Harper, of course, was right. Still…it was a strange thing to have your deepest insecurities trotted out and laid bare by people who didn’t even know you. Not to mention, beauty wasn’t everything. But I took my intelligence seriously, and my undergrad and law school grades proved I wasn’t the dumb blonde these women thought I was.
Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs, then letting it out slowly.
Then I took another breath.
And another.
Seeming unperturbed, and unaware of my inner struggles, Brent gave the room a tense smile and stood to approach the stage.
By the time he returned, I’d calmed enough to not lose my composure in front of the who’s who of the Detroit law scene.
He was halfway into his seat when I rose, collected my clutch, and tugged on his arm.
“Let’s go,” I said as a girl walked by and called me a slut under her breath.
“What’s wrong?”
“Please, Brent,” I said quietly, not wanting to discuss this here. “Can we please just go home?”
Brent nodded. “Sure, babe. Whatever you want. I’ll go get our coats while you say goodbye.”
After hugging Harper and Ryan, I followed Brent to the coat check and watched as the attendant, having recognized him, asked for a selfie. Brent obliged, and I rolled my eyes.
When we were safely in the truck and on our way back to my place, Brent broke the silence. “You want to tell me what happened back there?”
“I just wanted one night about me,” I said. “And it ended up being about you.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brent’s forehead crease. “What are you talking about?”
“Everywhere we go, you attract all of this attention.”
“Well, not to be insensitive here, Berk,” he started, “but I am a pro hockey player. It comes with the territory.”
“Trust me, I’m well aware.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“The problem is tonight could’ve been amazing. And then you had to go and bid on some stupid vacation you don’t even need, announcing to the entire room that you were there. It would’ve been fine if you had just laid low.”
My words, though quiet, may have been a shout in the stillness of the truck cab. We’d parked at my building, and our breaths mingled with the quiet ticking of the cooling engine.
Brent angled his body toward me. “So let me get this straight,” he said slowly. “You’re mad at me because I bid on a vacation in an auction that was raising money to help women who have been abused?”
“That’s not what I said.”
Although, it kind of was. Still, that wasn’t the biggest issue. But Brent just didn’t get it, both as a man and as someone thousands of women—and probably men—lusted after. He was used to living in the limelight, used to the public commenting on his looks, his body, his life.
What he didn’t understand was having to deal with the cattiness of other women, of the snide remarks, the superiority complexes, the drama and bullshit and backstabbing.
So yeah, my anger over the turn the night had taken really had nothing to do with Brent and everything to do with my insecurities.
“Then what are you saying, Berk?”
I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I got out of the truck and made my way inside. Brent wordlessly followed me, standing several feet away in the confines of the elevator. The tension between us was so thick I was practically choking on it.
“I’m not mad at you,” I said once we were safely ensconced in my apartment. “But you know how important becoming a lawyer is to me. Tonight was meant for networking and celebrating my accomplishments. I put a lot into helping plan it, and I was really looking forward to it. Instead, I just felt like a pile of shit by the end.”
“But why?” he asked, walking up to me and cupping my face in his hands.
“You can’t honestly tell me you didn’t hear the shit those women—my classmates—were saying about me when you got up to claim your prize.”
“So what, you’re worried that’s how I feel about you, too?”
“I’m not worried that’s how you feel,” I answered honestly. “I’m worried how you could possibly want to stay with someone who feels that way about herself.”
I willed the tears welling in my eyes to dissipate, but one slipped down my cheek anyway. With the softest touch, Brent brushed it away, then pressed his lips to the same spot. “ Berkley, you are everything to me. Stunning, ridiculously intelligent, loyal, kind, caring, loving—a whole slew of other adjectives I could spend hours providing. And if you need me to remind you of that every day, to wallpaper this entire apartment and mine in words of affirmation until you start to see yourself the way I do, then I’ll do it. Whatever it takes.
“But look at me,” he said, and my eyes snapped to his. “There’s nothing you could do that will send me away. Nothing you could say, no insecurity you could share, that would make me love you any less. In fact, I’ll just love you more.”
He pressed kisses to my eyelids, and I leaned into him, savoring his warmth, his steadiness—my safe harbor in the storm of my intrusive thoughts.
“You know that’s why Kimber and I got into a fight,” I said absently. “She told me I was going to push you away and send you running just like I have with every other relationship.”
“She’s wrong,” he promised me. “You’re stuck with me forever.”
“You mean that?”
“More than anything.”
Brent wrapped his arms around me and pressed his hands to my bare back, rubbing up and down, soothing me. I sighed and rested my head on his chest.
“I really am sorry about tonight,” he said. “If I had known this would happen, I never would have bid on anything.”
“It’s okay. No one could’ve predicted this, not even me.”
Brent’s laugh rumbled against my cheek. “On the plus side, we have a trip to Aspen next winter to look forward to.”
I stepped back and smacked him on the chest. “Not the point, Brent.”
He stepped toward me and grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers together and turning me so my back pressed against the wall. “What can I do to make it up to you?”
I looked up at him, a mischievous grin slowly spreading across my face. “I distinctly remember a conversation earlier that involved this dress and your mouth.”
Brent dropped to his knees before me, hands resting on his thighs, face raised toward me. “What would you like me to do?”
My God. Having this man on his knees before me, face turned up so beautifully in supplication?The list of what I didn’t want him to do would be shorter.
“Let’s start with your mouth,” I said, lifting my leg and placing my foot on his shoulder. The skirt of my dress shifted to reveal my sex, now level with his face.
“Berk,” he rasped. “You’re not wearing panties.”
“I’m aware.”
“You mean to tell me you’ve been going commando all night?”
Digging my teeth into my bottom lip to hold back a smile, I simply nodded.
Brent lifted a hand and ran it up and down the smooth skin of my calf and shin, eyes never leaving my core. For untold moments, he looked his fill, as if deciding what he was going to do with me. A thrill raced down my spine in anticipation.
At last, his eyes flicked to mine again. “I’m going to fucking consume you.”
“Promises, promises,” I said, unable to hold back from teasing him.
In one swift move, I was fully off my feet and swept into Brent’s arms as he moved us up the stairs to my room.
“I’ll show you promises,” he growled as he tossed me on the bed.
“Remember that comment about pulling me into a dark corner, tearing my dress open, and fucking me in it?”
Brent caught on without further explanation, and I quivered in anticipation as a predatory gleam spread across his eyes, hips lips tilting up into that wolfish, half-crazed smile I went feral for.
A moment later, the slit of my dress was ripped wider, the tatters of fabric pooling around my waist, and my man made good on his promise.