FIFTEEN
A WEEK WENT BY, then another. When she wasn’t with Roxie or Shanna, she was with Brogan. He never complained about her spending time with friends, though that may be because she always prioritized his engagements over any others.
The deal was the deal.
Was that the only reason she put him first? The less said about that…
Ascending the stairs in his apartment, the straps of her six-inch heels hung on her finger. She’d taken them off in the elevator, preparing for bed as best she could. Losing the dress might be a step too far. The elevator only opened into his apartment, but there could be cameras in there.
What was with this sudden confidence? This brazenness that wouldn’t let her drop her chin? Brogan’s influence? Roxie’s? This was a world she’d never been part of and it was exciting. The freedom, the ability to be her without judgment. People lived this way and now she was one of them.
In the darkened hallway, light emanated from Brogan’s office. It was late. Not that late, not too late to go say goodnight.
The door was open and he looked up the moment she stepped into it.
“Hi,” she said, leaning against the doorjamb. “Am I disturbing you?”
“No. Did you have a good night?”
“I slipped out to give Roxie and Zairn some privacy.”
“He’s back?”
“Just today. Is Julius asleep?”
“At his own place. He only stops here when need be.”
And his friend would know when to give him space. “You deserve your privacy too.” She stood straight. “I hope you don’t mind I came back here.”
“This is your base,” he said. “And if you meet resistance from your family—”
“I haven’t spoken to them.” She ventured deeper into the room. “I should. I should talk to them but…”
“Your life isn’t dictated by them anymore.”
How long would that last after their weeks were over? Three weeks in and she was already afraid of going back to what awaited her.
“I didn’t expect they’d let go this easily,” she said. “I must admit I don’t… I don’t think about them. About what they’d think or say… I make decisions without considering them.”
“You shouldn’t have to consider them.”
This wasn’t why she’d come to see him. The why was hazy, but it wasn’t for this. Dipping to put her shoes on the floor, she rounded his desk and bowed to touch her lips to his.
This wasn’t why she’d come into the room either.
Who was she kidding? This was always her purpose.
She was always this. Primed. Ready. Eager.
Whether he was nearby or across town, it was always him in her head.
His mouth, the conviction in his kiss, in his tongue never hesitating to mate with hers.
Her skin, her hands, her head, every part of her was dizzied by the experience of him and it never let up.
Maintaining the kiss, she sank to her knees, pushing her hands up his thighs to the belt barring her entry from—
“No,” he said, breaking the kiss, pushing her hands back to his knees. “Not tonight.”
“You don’t want me?” she asked, less insulted than she was mortified. She’d blown him a few times, and the whole time… “Am I doing it wrong?”
“No—”
“This is my quo.”
“There’s no quid.”
“I don’t mind being one behind.”
Though, honestly, who the hell was counting? Him, it seemed.
“Without quid,” he said, “there is no quo.”
“That’s unfair, that means quo can never go first, never initiate the quid.”
“It cannot.”
“I don’t understand.”
His exhale was one of wisdom. “Gianna, a man like me and a woman like you, it doesn’t work this way.”
“What doesn’t?”
“It’s your role to do as you’re told.”
“And you’re telling me to leave you alone?” she appealed, sure he wasn’t repulsed. “Or is it this…?”
She loosened her dress zipper. He didn’t stop her. In fact, his eyes darkened just a little as she took it lower and low—his hand stalled hers.
“We’ve blurred the lines,” he said, further embarrassing her by dragging the zipper back up. “You’re confusing this.”
“Brogan—”
“The way you say my name,” he said. “You’re a woman here against her will.”
“I am not.” That slap of offense tightened her. “That’s not what this is. How could you think that?”
“We have a deal.”
“You’re upholding your end,” she said. “People are still looking for Jarrod. Shanna is optimistic, she has Roxie and I keeping her in the best mood we can.”
“It’s your responsibility to make the world believe we’re together for the next five weeks.”
“I’m not doing that?”
“Who are you convincing here?” he asked.
Rising just enough to drape herself against him, chin high, her mouth begged in desperation for his. “We agreed anything sexual was subject to its own quid pro quo.”
“You’re an impressionable young woman.” The drift of his hand up her side didn’t match his resistance. “With limited experience.”
“Is that what this is? You’re being a good guy?” she teased, letting their lips just meet. “I’m a woman, Mister, that’s all that matters. I’m a woman who wants you.” Pressing herself against him, she pushed harder. “Feel me, Mister. Don’t you feel me?”
“You’ve been drinking.”
On an exhale, she relaxed in that position for a second before using his form to climb to her feet.
“You’re not interested, that’s all you had to say.” In a slow turn, she thought of how Roxie walked away from her husband. “For what it’s worth, we were taste testing the baby shower mocktails tonight. No alcohol.”
Slow though she took it, she did end up at the door. He was going to let her walk out.
“Quid.” That deep command stopped her dead. Doing a terrible job of containing her elation, she glanced back over her shoulder thinking sultry. “Spend your night in my bed.”
“Only if I get what I want.”
“I warned you,” he said, “once you give permission, I won’t allow you to take it back.”
“Then you’ll owe me another quo.”
“Name it.”
“Satisfy yourself,” she said. “When we share a bed, satisfy yourself with me.” The grind of his teeth spoke to his failing resistance. And, boy, was that fine with her. “I’ll be waiting.”
Leaving the room, she went left rather than right. His room, his bed. She’d been in the room, daydreamed about being in his bed. This was not the way their deal was supposed to play out. Karma was kind.
Opening his door wide, she made no effort to close it. In fact, she deliberately unzipped to discard her dress on the threshold. He’d demanded she sleep in the nude back when this started, who was she to start breaking the rules?
Her underwear dropped from her foot as she climbed onto his bed. Crawling up the middle, she eased the covers back just enough to slide beneath. In her twist, a figure at the end of the bed startled her.
He was already there, right in her wake, impatient, fixated as he moved to the side of the bed. Her hands shook, was that anticipation or terror? Intent, he grabbed the top edge of the covers to rip them from their neat arrangement and throw them off the end.
Anticipation. Definitely anticipation. Her heart pounded so hard she couldn’t breathe enough. Panting for life, she wanted more when he unbuttoned his shirt.
Together. They were going to be together. It would mean nothing in the morning, nothing in a week or a month, but right now, they were the only two people in this moment. Special didn’t cover it. This man, Brogan Spurn…
He tossed his shirt off one shoulder then the other, and she was on her knees, going to immediately plant her hands on the planes of a chest she’d wanted to admire for so long.
He snatched her jaw before her mouth could meet his skin.
With an almost growl behind his fierce glare, her lips parted in an eager whimper.
Dreaming big apparently manifested what she’d craved.
She sank against him, neck craned when he forced his mouth over hers.
This was quid pro quo, it was a trade of pleasure for pleasure.
The leather of his belt moved against her, that wasn’t what she wanted to feel.
His tightening grip was only the beginning of what she wanted him to need.
Belt. She wanted this now. Not in a minute.
Not in five. Still mired in the passion of his devouring kiss, she unbuckled his belt, moaning when he tore it right from the loops and threw her down on the bed.
Scrambling to sweep her hair from her face, she caught just a glimpse of him losing his pants before he was on top of her, between her thighs, dragging his lips across hers.
“You give me permission,” he growled, “you won’t get it back until I’m done with you.”
“You have it,” she said on the gasping breath that fought to fill her lungs. “You have my permission.”
And she might have ended with “however long you want it,” but his impatience plunged into her, from head to hilt in one forceful thrust. Another yelp, a groan, a call, her body expelled words and whimpers, desperate to have more.
He hammered in fast, pounding her through every climax, every threshold became another.
He wasn’t done, and wouldn’t be done, until he called it. This was Brogan Spurn. Family nemesis? No, her greatest lover.
“Brogan,” she screamed out, burning her throat. “Oh, God, Mister…”
She should call mercy, should beg for relief to the raw nerves tossing her in the ocean, grabbing her under the waves before she could breathe again.
“Yes, I—please—no—”
She didn’t make sense, couldn’t feel sense until on a crest that stalled every muscle, he grabbed her chin to look her in the eye as he drove in deep to finish himself within her.
Her jaw ached, but she never wanted him to let go, never wanted him to move from where he was still within her, softening, yes, but not forever.
Brogan Spurn. Her? Not tomorrow. But right then, what they’d just done, no one could take that away. This bed, this night, was forever, whether either of them confessed it or not.