43. One month after I gave him my life
One month after I gave him my life
“You have the loveliest eyes,” I said, flashing a smile.
They stared back at me in a unique shade of hazel.
I preferred blue, but they would do for a night.
The brunette in front of me—Amy, she’d introduced herself—smiled, and her eyes twinkled under the lights of Avalon.
It was the accent that summoned that smile, I was sure of it. American girls loved that.
“Thank you,” she said, a pretty blush spreading up her cheeks. “What do you do, Austin?”
“I own this club, actually,” I said, swirling my straw in a cocktail I didn’t intend to drink. She was on her second, if I had to guess, loose and a little flirtatious.
“Oh wow, this place is great. I’ve been here two or three times before. Usually my friends and I come together, but they ditched me tonight.”
“That’s a shame,” I said, “but at least I get your company.”
I watched the silky fabric of her red dress move over her long, smooth legs as she uncrossed and crossed them again. I loved when my attention made them squirm a little. She leaned a little closer.
“Are you here with someone?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “I’m usually too busy working to be social.”
“But not tonight?” She sat up straighter, and a gleam flashed in her eyes that I thought might match mine—wanting and a little predatory. She was hunting me now, just as I hunted her. Two wolves circling each other, searching for something carnal.
“No,” I said, daring to stroke my fingers down her arm that rested against the bar. Goosebumps rose over her skin, but she didn’t comment on how cool my touch was. “Not tonight.”
“This place is really great. You could give me a behind-the-scenes tour.”
I nodded and extended a hand to her. “I would love to show you around.”
She was on me the moment we entered my office. This wasn’t a woman looking for a romance or more than tonight. Perfect. I wasn’t pursuing love. The past months had only reinforced my surety that love was pain in all its forms. Fuck love.
She undressed me with care. No haphazard piles of clothes. No tearing of fabric. Just buttons undone with slow, beautiful fingers. I gave her dress the same appreciation and draped it over the back of the couch.
The way she kissed and fucked was aggressive and needy.
I didn’t give a damn about her, so it was fine by me.
Rook’s face flashed in my mind as I pounded into her on the couch.
Cocky smile. Sparkling eyes. Fuck his stupid face, and fuck love.
I slammed into her pussy again and her shrill moan was muffled by the soundproofing in the room.
Afterward, I helped her dress like I was a perfect gentleman, led her back to the bar, and told the bartender all her drinks were free for the rest of the night.
“It was nice meeting you, Amy,” I said.
It wasn’t.
I left with no intention of seeing her again.
***
That month was the best I’d had in a year. I bounced back from the fire at the warehouse like nothing had ever happened. I pulled in more money, I made deals with more desperate people, and I worked the full moon gala like royalty. I was back to my old self.
The day after I met Amy, Owen knocked on the frame of my open office door.
“Yes?” I asked without looking up from the paperwork that had begun to blur my eyes. He’d filled Gray’s role in a way I was still adjusting to.
“Delivery for you,” he said, placing a package on my desk.
“Thank you, Owen.”
“No problem.” He didn’t linger, didn’t chitchat, didn’t urge me to get some rest.
And he brought nothing to fill my rumbling stomach.
I finished the stack of papers in front of me an hour later and finally picked up the box, blinking away the tiredness in my eyes. It contained a velvet jewelry box. I opened it on tight new hinges.
Inside were a pair of lifeless hazel eyes and a note.
I fucking warned you.
I slammed the box shut and scanned the room, as if the bastard might be lurking nearby. I picked up my phone, set it back down, picked it up again.
Fuck you.
Rook: You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Or did she satisfy you?
If you have a message, deliver it yourself.
He didn’t respond, but when I went home that night, every bright light in the penthouse was on, the whole place lit up. The living room was empty, but I knew who was there.
“You can’t just walk in here whenever you want!”
He crept up behind me and pushed me into the wall, his forearm heavy against my shoulder blades. “It never stopped me before.”
The rumble of his voice made me shiver—it had been too long since I’d heard that voice—and I know he felt it when his dark laugh ghosted across my cheek.
“Miss me?” Yes. Fuck, yes. “You can’t have missed me that much. You had a good time with…what was her name?”
“Amy.”
“Mmhmm, Amy. I told you no one else was allowed to touch you or look at you.”
“You didn’t say I couldn’t touch or look at anyone.” I pressed back against him and he dug his elbow harder into my back.
“I didn’t think you needed to be told.”
“I don’t know what you’re so pissed about!” I gritted out. “You were the one who didn’t want to be together, so why the fuck do you care?”
He kissed my neck, right below my ear, and the motion was so soft and unexpected that I relaxed.
“I never said I didn’t want to be together. I told you why we can’t, so until you decide what’s important to you, deal with it.” He loosened the pressure on my back and reached forward, skimming his thumb along my forearm, tracing the line of the ‘R.’ “You’re still mine.”
“What if I don’t want to be?” I drove some snark into my voice and the way he tensed at my back sent a little thrill skittering all over my skin. He pressed his erection against my ass and my breath stuttered.
“You don’t get a choice.” He turned me, pressing my back against the wall now, and kissed me like it would be the last time, but it wouldn’t. Rook wouldn’t let me go.
And I didn’t want him to.
I bit his bottom lip hard enough to make him yelp and fall to his knees in front of me, unfastening my pants in a hurry.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he said, his lips inches from my cock.
I threw my head back, eyes falling closed. “I’m yours.”