Beautiful Bastard (11 page)

She nodded and waved absently, never pausing her conversation. Standing up, I quickly made my way past his table making sure to avoid his eyes. I had just turned the corner and spotted the safety of the ladies’ room door when I felt a strong hand on my forearm. “Wait.”

That voice sent a jolt through me.

Okay, Chloe, you can do this. Just turn around and look at him and tell him to fuck off. He’s an asshole who called you a mistake last night and shows up with some blond bimbo today.

Straightening my shoulders, I turned to face him.
Shit.
He looked even better up close. I’d never seen him looking anything other than perfectly groomed, but he obviously hadn’t shaved this morning and I desperately wanted to feel the scratch of his stubble on my cheeks.

Or thighs.

“What the hell do you want?” I spat at him, pulling my arm free from his grasp. Without the benefit of my heels I felt like he towered over me. Looking up at his face, I could see faint circles under his eyes. He looked tired. Well, good. If his nights were half as bad as mine, I was happy.

Running his hands through his hair, he glanced around uncomfortably. “I wanted to talk to you. To explain about last night.”

“What’s there to explain?” I asked, nodding my head toward the dining room and the blonde still sitting at his table. My chest twisted tightly, painfully.
“Change of scenery.
I get it. I’m actually glad to see you here like this—it helps remind me why this thing between us is a terrible idea. I don’t want to be indirectly fucking all of your other women.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked, looking back at me. “Are you talking about Emily?”

“Is that her name? Well, you and Emily have a lovely meal, Mr. Ryan.” I turned to leave but was once again stopped when he grabbed my arm. “Let. Go.”

“Why would you even care?”

Our argument had begun to attract attention from the staff passing through to the kitchen. After a quick glance around, he pulled me into the ladies’ room and locked the door.

Fantastic, another bathroom.

I shoved him away when he stepped closer. “What do you think you’re doing? And what do you mean, why would I care? You
fucked
me last night, told me all about how I couldn’t possibly want to go out with Joel, and now you’re here with someone else! I let myself forget you’re a manwhore.
Your
behavior is completely expected—I’m pissed at
myself
.
” I was so angry my nails were practically cutting into the palms of my hands.

“You think I’m here on a
date
?” He exhaled heavily, shaking his head. “This is fucking unbelievable. Emily is a friend. She runs a charitable organization that Ryan Media supports. That’s all. I was supposed to meet her Monday to sign some papers but she had a last-minute flight change and is leaving the country this afternoon. I haven’t been with anyone else since the wi—” He paused to rethink his words. “Since we first . . . you know
.
.
.” He finished, motioning vaguely between us.

What?

We stood there, staring at each other as I tried to let his words seep in. He hadn’t slept with anyone else. Was that even possible? I knew for a fact that he was a womanizer. I’d personally witnessed his ever-
expanding
collection of arm candy at corporate events, not to mention the stories swimming around the building. And even if what he was saying was true, it didn’t change the fact that he was still my boss, and this whole thing was seriously wrong.

“All those women throwing themselves at you and you haven’t nailed even one? Aw, I’m touched.” I turned for the door.

“It’s not that difficult to believe,” he growled, and I could feel his eyes burning into my back.

“You know what, it doesn’t matter. It was just a mistake, right?”

“Look, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He moved closer and his scent—like honey and sage—washed over me. I suddenly felt trapped, like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the tiny room. I needed to get out of here, now. What had Julia said less than five minutes ago? Don’t be alone with him? Good advice. I happened to like this particular pair of panties and didn’t really want to see them in tatters in his pocket.

Okay, that was a lie.

“Are you seeing Joel again?” he asked from behind me. My hand was on the knob. All I had to do was turn it and I was safe. But I froze, staring at that damn door for what seemed like minutes.

“Does it matter?”

“I thought we covered this last night,” he said, his breath warm against my hair.

“Yeah, a lot of things were said last night.” His fingertips moved up my arm and slipped the thin strap of my tank top off my shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to say this was a mistake,” he whispered against my skin. “I just panicked.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not true.” My body instinctively leaned into him, my head tilting slightly allowing him easier access. “We both know it.”

“I still shouldn’t have said it.” He brushed my ponytail over my shoulder and his soft lips moved across my back. “Turn around.”

Two words. How was it possible that two simple words could make me question everything? It was one thing for him to press me against a wall or forcefully grab me, but now he was putting everything in my court. Biting my lip hard, I tried to bring myself to turn the handle. My hand actually twitched before it fell to my side in
defeat.

I turned and looked up to meet his eyes.

His hand came to rest on my cheek, his thumb brushing across my bottom lip. Our gazes locked, and just when I thought I couldn’t wait one more second he pulled me to him, pressing his mouth to mine.

The moment we kissed, my body gave up fighting and I couldn’t get close enough. My purse landed on the tile floor at my feet and my hands dove into his hair, pulling him to me. He backed me into the wall and ran his hands down my body, lifting me slightly. He pushed into my yoga pants and cupped my ass.

“Fuck. What are you wearing?” He groaned into my neck, his palms sliding back and forth over the pink satin. Lifting me fully, he wrapped my legs around his waist and pressed me further into the wall. He moaned as I took his earlobe between my teeth.

Pulling one side of my top down, he sucked one of my nipples into his mouth. My head fell back and hit the wall as I felt the scruff of his unshaven face against my breast. A shrill sound broke through my haze and I heard him swear. My phone. Placing me on my feet, he stepped away, his face already back in its usual scowl. I quickly rearranged my clothing and reached for my purse, grimacing when I saw the picture displayed on the screen.

“Julia,” I answered breathlessly.

“Chloe, are you in the bathroom fucking that nice slice of man cake?”

“I’ll be there in a second, okay?” I ended the call and shoved the phone back into my bag. I looked up at him, feeling my rational side return after the small interruption. “I should go.”

“Look, I—” He was cut off as my phone rang again.

I answered without bothering to look at the screen. “God, Julia! I’m not in here fucking the piece of man cake!”

“Chloe?” Joel’s confused voice sounded through the phone.

“Oh . . . hi.”
Shit.
This could not be happening to me.

“I’m glad to hear that you’re not . . . fucking . . . man cake?” Joel said, laughing tightly.

“Who is it?” Bennett growled.

I pressed my hand to his lips and gave him the dirtiest look I could manage. “Look, I can’t really talk right now.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry to bother you on a Sunday, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And I don’t want to get anyone in trouble or anything, but right after you left I checked my e-mail and there was a confirmation for delivery of your flowers.”

“Really?” I asked, feigning interest. My gaze was locked with Bennett’s.

“Well, it seems they were signed for by Bennett Ryan.”

Nine

I watched as several expressions passed over her face at once: embarrassment, annoyance, and then . . . curiosity? I could vaguely make out a man’s voice on the other end and felt the caveman begin to awaken. Who the hell was calling her?

Suddenly, her eyes narrowed, and a tiny voice inside told me I should be nervous. “Well, thank you so much for letting me know. Yes. Yes, I will. Okay. Yes, I’ll call you when I decide. Thanks for calling, Joel.”

Joel?
Fucking Cignoli
.

She ended the call and slowly put the phone back into her purse. Looking down, she shook her head, a small laugh escaping before a wicked smile graced her mouth.

“Is there anything you’d like to tell me, Mr. Ryan?” she asked sweetly, and for some reason it made me even more anxious. I racked my brain but couldn’t think of anything.
What was she talking about?

“That was the strangest conversation. It seems that when Joel checked his e-mail this morning, he had a delivery confirmation for my flowers. You’ll never guess what it said.”

She moved one step toward me, and instinctively I moved one step back. I didn’t like where this was going. “It turns out that someone signed for them.”

Oh, shit
.

“The name on the slip said Bennett Ryan.”

Fuuuuuck
. Why the hell did I sign my own name? I tried to think of a response but my mind was suddenly blank. Obviously, my silence told her everything she needed to know.

“You son of a bitch! You signed for them and then lied to me?” She landed a hard shove on my chest, and I had a sudden instinct to protect my balls. “Why did you do that?” My back was now against the wall and I was frantically searching for an alternative exit.

“I . . . what?” I babbled. My heart felt like it was going to claw its way out of my chest.

“Seriously! What the hell?”

I needed an answer and I needed it fast. Running my hands through my hair for the hundredth time in the last five minutes, I decided it was probably better to just come clean.

“I don’t know,
okay
?” I shouted back. “I just . . .
fuck
!”

She took out her phone and appeared to be texting someone.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m telling Julia to just go on without me. I’m not leaving here until you tell me the truth.” She glared at me and I could feel the anger coming off of her in waves. I briefly considered telling Emily what was going on, but she’d seen me follow Chloe; I was pretty sure she’d figured it out by now.

“Well?”

I met her eyes and let out a deep sigh. There was absolutely no way I could explain myself and not sound like I’d lost my mind. “Okay, yes, I signed for them.”

She stared at me, her chest heaving and her fists balled so tightly that her knuckles were white.
“And?”

“And . . . I threw them away.” As I stood facing her, I realized that I deserved every bit of her anger. I was being unfair. I was offering her nothing but still standing in the way of someone who could possibly make her happy.

“You are fucking unbelievable,” she growled through clenched teeth. I knew she was doing everything she could to keep from lunging across the room and pummeling me. “Explain to me why you would do that.”

Here was the part I didn’t know how to answer. “Because
.
.
.” I scratched the back of my head. I hated that I’d let myself get into this situation. “Because I don’t want you to go out with Joel.”

“Of all the asinine, chauvinistic—who in the hell do you think you are? Just because we’ve had sex does not mean you get to make decisions in my life. We aren’t a couple, we aren’t dating. Hell, we don’t even like each other!” she yelled.

“You think I don’t know that? It doesn’t make any sense, okay? But when I saw those flowers . . . come on, they were fucking
roses
!”

She looked as if she were ready to have me committed somewhere. “Are you on some sort of medication? What does the fact that they were roses have to do with anything?”

“You hate roses!” When I said this, her face fell, eyes soft and dark. I rambled on. “I just saw them and reacted. I didn’t stop and think about it. Just the thought of him touching you
.
.
.” My fists clenched at my sides and my voice trailed off as I tried to regain my composure. I was getting angrier by the second: at myself for being weak and letting my emotions get out of hand,
again,
and at her for having this fucking inexplicable hold on me.

“Okay, look,” she said, taking a calming breath. “I’m not saying I agree with what you did, but I understand . . . to a point.”

My eyes flew to her in shock.

“I would be lying if I said I haven’t been feeling similarly possessive,” she said reluctantly.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Did she actually just admit to me that she felt this way too?

“But that doesn’t change the fact that you lied to me. You lied right to my face. I might think you’re an arrogant asshole most of the time, but you’ve always been someone I trusted to be honest with me.”

I flinched. She was right.

“I’m sorry.” My apology hung in the air, and I wasn’t sure which of us was more surprised by it.

“Prove it.” She looked at me so calmly, not an ounce of emotion visible in her features. What did she mean? Then, it hit me.
Prove it
. We couldn’t speak through words, because words only led to trouble. But this? This is what we were, and if she would give me this one chance to make up for what I’d done, I’d take it.

I hated her so much in that moment. I hated that she was right and I was wrong, and I hated that she was forcing me to make a choice. I hated how much I wanted her, most of all.

I closed the distance between us, wrapping my hand around the back of her neck. I pulled her to me, meeting her gaze as I drew her mouth to mine. There was an unspoken challenge there. Neither of us would back down or admit that this—whatever
this
was—was beyond our control.

Or maybe both of us just had.

The moment our lips touched, I was overtaken by a familiar buzz coursing through my body.

My hands fisted deeply into her hair, forcing her head back, to take everything I pressed into her. This might be for her, but I was damn sure going to control it. Pressing my body to hers, I groaned at the way each of her curves fit against me. I wanted this need to go away, to be satisfied and move on; but each time I felt her, it was better than I remembered.

Falling to my knees, I grasped her hips and pulled her closer, my lips moving across the waist of her pants. Lifting her shirt up, I kissed each inch of visible skin, enjoying the tensing of her muscles as I explored. I looked up at her, hooking my fingers into the waistband. Her eyes were closed and she was biting her lower lip. I felt my cock harden in anticipation of what I was about to do.

I pulled her pants down her thighs, goose bumps breaking out over her skin as I trailed my fingers down her legs. Her hands went to my hair and pulled roughly, and I groaned as I looked back up at her. I traced the edge of the delicate satin of her lingerie, stopping at the thin straps on her hips. “These are almost too pretty to ruin,” I said, wrapping one strap around each hand.

“Almost.” With a quick tug they broke easily, allowing me to pull the pink material away and stuff it into my pocket.

A sense of urgency took over me then, and I quickly freed one of her legs, placing it over my shoulder and kissing along the soft skin of her inner thigh.

“Oh, shit,” she said on an exhale, running her hands into my hair. “Oh, shit, please.”

As I first nuzzled and then slowly licked along her clit, she gripped my hair tightly, moving her hips against my mouth. Unintelligible words fell from her lips in a hoarse whisper, and seeing her come undone so completely made me realize she was as helpless against this as I was. She was pissed at me, so pissed that part of her probably wanted to hook her leg around my neck and strangle me, but at least she was letting me give her something that was, in many ways, so much more intimate than simple fucking. I was on my knees, but she was vulnerable and bare.

She was also warm and wet and tasted just as fucking sweet as she looked.

“I could fucking consume you,” I whispered, pulling back enough to glance up at her expression. Kissing her hip, I murmured, “This would be so much better if I could spread you out somewhere. A table in a conference room,
perhaps
.”

She tugged on my hair, pulling me back to her with a smile. “This is working just fine for me. Don’t you dare stop.”

I almost admitted aloud that I couldn’t, and I was starting to abhor the thought of even trying but soon was lost in her skin again. I wanted to memorize every curse and plea that escaped her mouth and know that I was the reason for it. I moaned against her, causing her to cry out as she twisted her body closer. Sliding two fingers inside her, I pulled on her hip with the other hand to urge her to find her rhythm with me. She began rolling her hips, slowly at first, pressing into me, and then faster. I could feel her tense: her legs, her abdomen, her hands in my hair.

“So close,” she panted, her movements faltering, growing jagged and a little wild, and fuck if I didn’t feel a little wild myself. I wanted to bite and suck, bury my fingers inside and completely unravel her. I worried I was growing too rough, but her breaths turned into little pants and tightened into pleas. When I twisted my wrist and pushed in deeper, she cried out, legs shaking as her climax overtook her.

Rubbing her hip, I slowly lowered her leg and watched her feet just in case she decided to kick me after all. I ran a finger across my lip and watched her eyes return to focus.

She pushed me away and quickly righted her clothing, looking down at where I kneeled in front of her. Reality crept back as the various sounds of people dining on the other side of the door combined with the sound of our heavy breathing.

“You’re not forgiven,” she said and reached down for her purse, unlocking the door and leaving the room without another word.

I stood up slowly and watched the door close behind her, trying to sort out what had just happened. I should have been furious. But I felt the corner of my mouth lift in a smile and I almost laughed at the absurdity of it.

Damn her, she did it again. She was beating me at my own game.

My night had been hell. I’d hardly slept or eaten, and I’d suffered a near-constant hard-on since leaving the restaurant yesterday. I knew I was in for it as I headed to work. She was going to do everything she could to torture and punish me for lying to her; the sick thing was . . . I was kind of looking forward to it.

I was surprised to find her desk empty upon my arrival.
Strange,
I thought, she was rarely late. I continued into my office and began getting things in order for the day. Fifteen minutes later, I was distracted from a phone call when I heard the outer door slam. Well, she certainly didn’t disappoint; I could hear drawers and files slamming and knew this would make for an interesting day.

At ten fifteen I was interrupted by my intercom. “Mr. Ryan.” Her cool voice filled the room and despite her obvious annoyance, I found myself smirking as I pressed the button to respond.

“Yes, Miss Mills?” I answered back, hearing my own grin reflected in my tone.

“We need to be in the conference room in fifteen minutes. You’ll need to leave at noon to make the lunch meeting with the president of Kelly Industries at twelve thirty. Stuart will be waiting for you in the garage.”

“Are you not accompanying me?” Part of me wondered if she was avoiding being alone with me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

“No, sir. Management only.” I heard papers rustling as she continued to speak. “Besides, I have arrangements to make for San Diego today.”

“I’ll be out in a moment,” I let my finger slide off the button, standing to adjust my tie and jacket.

When I stepped out of my office, my eyes landed on her immediately. Any doubts I might have had about her making me suffer were confirmed. She was leaning over her desk in a blue silk dress that showcased her long lean legs perfectly. Her hair was piled on her head, and when she turned in my direction, I saw she was wearing her glasses. How was I going to manage to speak coherently with her sitting next to me?

“Are you ready, Mr. Ryan?” Without waiting for an answer, she gathered her things and began walking down the hall. There seemed to be more sway to her hips today. The sassy bitch was taunting me.

Standing in the crowded elevator, our bodies were unintentionally pressed together and I had to stifle a groan. It could have been my imagination but I thought I saw a hint of a smirk as she “accidentally” brushed against my semierect cock. Twice.

For the next two hours, I was in my own personal hell. Every time I looked at her she was doing something to bring me to my knees: sly glances, licking her bottom lip, crossing and uncrossing her legs, or absentmindedly twirling a tendril of hair around her finger. At one point, she dropped her pen and casually placed her hand on my thigh as she bent down to retrieve it from under the table.