Fool for Love (Believe #2) (19 page)

He grimaces and I reach out my hand for him to shake.

“Sorry,” he apologises. “I didn’t mean – ”

“I know you didn’t,” I interrupt him and release his hand. I rub my eyes, the headache pounding in my skull, and sigh. “I just need sleep. I haven’t really been sleeping well since I got back.”

I look at him briefly, embarrassed to admit my weakness.

“Well, I guess that’s understandable,” he says. “See you tomorrow, Chef.”

I grimace at the formal title, but decide to let it go. Despite the long years we’ve been friends, he still calls me that sometimes. I give the rest of my staff sitting at the table a chin lift in goodbye and then walk away.

But I can’t resist looking one last time at Suzy. As if she can feel my stare, her head lifts, and it feels as if I’ve been hit with a fist straight to my gut when I see the yearning in her eyes. I stop, balling my hands, but resist the urge to go to her again.

If she changes her mind about my offer, she’ll have to come to me this time.

A
NOTHER WEEK HAS GONE
by, and I’ve hardly seen Garrett. The ferocious glint in his eyes when he looked at me when he left the club haunts me most days as well as long into the night. He looked so conflicted – probably just like I did. My nerve endings are constantly wired. My hands tremble when I remember his hand on my waist and the way his breath fanned my skin, and it feels as if my body is about to erupt in fire. While I know it was right to turn him down, the yearning to give in to his desire – one that mirrors my own – has left me entirely fuddled in my head.

His advances came as a complete surprise to me. It almost felt painful to refuse him, but what else can I do? Getting involved with him without falling for him will be impossible. I know this because that is what I usually do. I
always
fall for the wrong men – and the same could be said for women. But at least I’m grateful that he told me what he had in mind; I respect his honesty even if I don’t appreciate it at the same time.

Sighing, I turn to the bathroom mirror and put a pair of elegant crystal studs in my ears. Subtle, yet classy. According to my boss, Rowan, this is to be my mantra as I work at
The Vault
for the next couple of months. The smokey eyes and the thick coat of mascara fit the image while my attire doesn’t. The black corset that was given to me is beautiful, and the stunning lace and frills give me a kind of female confidence that I have not felt before.

I feel like a grown-up.

Mature. Sexy.

Like a woman who is comfortable in her own skin.

A niggling thought occurs to me, calling me a fraud, but I refuse to listen to it tonight. I no longer wish for it to take root or to hold me in its grasp.

I put my hands on my hips and take a good, long look in the mirror. My breasts are pushed up, but remain hidden from probing eyes. My waist is narrow, my hips a bit wide, but I like it. I look desirable, and I guess that’s what it’s all about at my new job.

Desire.

To be put on display but with the clear warning to probing eyes; they may be given the permission to look, but they’re not allowed to touch.

There is a sense of power to it. One I revel in.

I nod at my reflection, satisfied with my appearance, and step into my black pumps as I put on a long-sleeved silver cardigan. The sudden slam from the front door makes me pause, and a nervous tingle rushes down my spine as I leave my sanctuary.

The thought that Garrett is about to see me like this causes my breath to still, but I can’t avoid him forever. Squaring my shoulders, I hold my head high as I turn off the light and walk out of the bathroom to meet him.

With purposeful strides, I silently thank my mother for teaching me the art of walking in high heels at a young age, and I pretend to not notice him right away as I walk out into the living room.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” he growls. The anger wafting in the air is palpable. I look at him as he stands in the middle of the room, but I refuse to let my eyes linger for long. The way he looks right now, wearing boots, jeans, and a leather jacket, calls to all my senses. I mustn’t let them be seen. My fingers itch to run them through his long, wavy hair, and I want to rub my cheek against his beard, purring like a cat – but I’m not allowed to do that.

“I told you last week, I found a job. That’s where I’m off to now,” I clip as I walk past him.

“At
The Vault
, I see.”

The fact that he knows about that place causes me to pause, but not for long.

“You’re familiar with it?” I ask, cursing inwardly for letting the question slip out.

“Very,” he mutters. Keeping my back to him, I wrap a scarf around my neck before taking my long winter coat down from the peg behind the door.

“I see,” I whisper. Another piece to the puzzle that is Garrett Thompson clicks into place.

“No, you don’t.” I refuse to pay attention to the harsh tone of his voice, and quickly button my coat. But that doesn’t mean I can’t feel the vibration of his anger as he moves closer to me.

“For fuck’s sake, Suzy,” he whispers. I swallow the lump in my throat and close my eyes. Of their own will, my hands rest on the last button before falling to my sides. I ball my fists when the warmth of his breath fans across my cheek from behind, and I have to work hard on breathing regularly.

“You make it hard on a man to keep his promises,” he mutters. The almost primal growl that follows when he inhales my scent makes me snap my eyes open.

“Garrett…please…” He
has
to be able to hear the plea in my voice – the longing mixed with regret isn’t one easy to miss. “I’ll be late for work.”

My heartbeat gallops away in my chest, and I’m almost certain he can hear it. His hand snakes its way around my waist, finding its way inside my coat, and he pushes down on my abdomen. I sigh deeply when I feel the hardness of his chest on my back. He engulfs me, consumes me, yet I feel perfectly safe.

“Whenever you change your mind, waif, I’ll be here,” he mutters. I want to lean back and surrender to him completely when his hand trails lightly down my tummy, and a teasing finger rests just above my pussy.

Sweet. Torture.

“You’re not playing fair,” I gasp and spread my legs slightly, giving in to the longing in my body.

He chuckles darkly. “I never said I would. I always get what I want, waif…but I can wait for a while longer.” His finger presses down on my clit, and I moan from the warmth it emits in my body as his touch zings me.

His other arm reaches across my upper body, and I tilt my head back when his hand takes a hold on my neck, turning my head towards him. The possessive touch ignites an unfamiliar fire within my soul, and it thrills me like nothing else ever has. His minty breath makes my mouth water.

“But for now…I think we both need a little taste,” he whispers. I open my mouth to protest, but before a sound leaves me, his lips are on mine.

Hard.

Unrelenting.

Warm.

Bliss.

My reservations vaporise into thin air when his tongue trails the seam of my lips, and I open my mouth to let him in. His tongue sweeps in, and that’s all it takes to forget who I am, where we are, or what I’m supposed to do.

A myriad of emotions spreads in my body as he takes what he wants from me – as he takes command of my pleasure with both his lips and his fingers. I am scared, yet eager; excited, but apprehensive; impatient, but wanting to draw it out at the same time.

Wetness gathers between my legs as he continues his teasing assault on my pussy, and I push my arse back to feel his cock. The hold he has on my neck loosens, and I turn impatiently in his arms.

“More,” I sigh as my mouth leaves his. A sense of victory fills me when I find him breathing hard in front of me, his eyes boring into mine with the kind of passion I have never encountered before. Not thinking about the consequences, I hurry to unbutton my coat, and I let it fall to my feet.

“Is this you saying ‘yes’ to me, waif?” he breathes. I smile at him.

“Yes. I’m saying ‘yes’, Garrett. To everything.”

I remove the scarf from around my neck and toss it carelessly to the floor. His heavy-lidded gaze zeros in on my heaving breasts, and I hurry to remove my cardigan, giving him a better view. The way he licks his lips, as if he wants to eat me for breakfast, causes my belly to swarm with butterflies.

Anticipation for what comes next hits me right in my core, and I take a step closer to him.

“No doubts?” he asks as he unbuttons his leather jacket.

“None,” I answer, and it’s the truth. I’m tired of avoiding my feelings. If I end up falling for him, that’s my problem, not his.

“You understand what I’m offering you?” He takes off his coat and waits for me once more, arms hanging down his sides.

“I do.” I take in the doused fire in his eyes, and try to reassure him with my own that I’m not talking nonsense – that I mean it.

“Thank fuck,” he growls. He proceeds to place his hands on my face, his mouth slamming down on mine. I gasp but open for him at once as he backs me up against the wall. I wrap my left leg around his hip, grinding my pussy shamelessly against his cock, and the hum in his throat makes me bolder. I put my arms around his neck and lose myself entirely to the fire. Our tongues tangle, dancing to their own tune, and I can smell my arousal.

I need him. Now.

My breath falls rapidly and I throw my head back when his mouth leaves mine to nibble on my neck.

“Tell me, waif – what do you like?” Garrett whispers urgently. “Anything you object to that I should be aware of?”

His hands roam my back until they settle on my arse, and the sting of his nails digging in only makes me grow wilder.

“Oh god, just fuck me,” I moan. The softness of his beard tickles my neck as he chuckles.

“I need to know, Suzy. I need to know how far I can take you.”

“I…I can’t think…Oh…” His nimble fingers have found their way into my soaked panties, and I push my hips into his hands, silently begging him to hurry up.

“Shit, you’re drenched,” he growls. I gasp when he bites down on my shoulder.

“That’s going to leave a mark,” I sigh, fumbling to find the zipper of his pants.