Loveless (15 page)

My mouth snaps shut.

Oh, God. No.

“Hi, BFF!”

Sophie.

I’ve worked at JouerTech for two years, and have managed to keep my best friend from making an appearance at my job because of . . . well, self-preservation is a basic human right. My job is a sanctuary, an escape from both my mother’s and Sophie’s machinations.

But there Sophie is, smiling as she rushes down the hall toward me.

Nick turns around.

And somehow trips over his own feet the moment he lays eyes on her.

There’s no time to even try and catch him.

Nick slams into the wall, his shoulder taking the brunt of the impact.

“Oh God, are you okay?” Sophie runs over, grabbing Nick’s biceps and trying to steady him.

Nick jumps, his entire body tightening. His fists clench. What sounds like a low growling sound leaves him.

I burst into action. The fuck I’m letting this happen. Nick is my boy, but he’s also engaged—regardless of how miserable he is over it—and there’s no way I’m letting my best friend get suckered into being the other woman again.

As a matter of fact, I won’t even allow her to contemplate it.

The way Sophie’s looking up at Nick, her cheeks flushed, her hands tightening around his biceps, tells me that the danger of that happening is very real.

“Get your hands off him, BFF.” Grabbing Sophie’s arm, I gently urge her away from Nick. “His fianc
é wouldn’t appreciate you feeling up on his arms like that.”

Disappointment flashes in Sophie’s eyes, but it’s gone as quick as it arises. Her eyes flicker toward Nick. “Sorry. I was just trying to help.”

The silence on Nick’s end catches my attention.

Nick’s just standing there, orange-red brows furrowed over his eyes. An accusation swims in those dark blue depths, but that isn’t all.

He wants Sophie. The hunger is blatant. Too focused. Almost indecent.

I clear my throat.

“It’s alright. Don’t worry,” Nick finally says, pronouncing each word slowly. As if he’s having a hard time speaking and is forcing himself to push through it. “Thank you for your help.”

Their eyes lock. Sophie nods at Nick, her throat convulsing with a swallow.

Okay. Time to break this little interaction up. “Sophie, why are you here?”

She tears her eyes away from Nick. “Actually, I’m not here for you. I’m here to see Paige. Where is she?”

Ah, our plan. “She’s probably back in her office. Across from mine.”

She spares one last, almost wistful glance for Nick, then spins around, rushing back the way she came. She doesn’t bother to say goodbye.

That’s fine. I have another issue to take care of, and I don’t need her around while I do it.

When I look back at Nick, I find his stare glued in the direction Sophie went, anger and desire etched into his harsh expression.

So, naturally, I have to remind him, “She’s not for you.”

Nick’s fists clench at his sides. His eyes remain fixated ahead. “Oh? And you have the right to decide this because you’re her friend?”

It’s my turn to clench my fists. “Because I won’t let another asshole play with her
—
and
you’re engaged. Or did you forget?”

“Shit. You’re right.” Exasperated, Nick rakes his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I—wait. What do you mean by ‘another asshole’? Did someone hurt her?”

Involuntarily, I take a step back, confused at the fierce light in Nick’s eyes. He just met Sophie, and yet the thought of her being hurt by someone seems to be enough to make him want to do harm. What the hell is going on with him?

Sad part? It isn’t hard to guess what’s happening, and it’s the very last thing either one of them need. Neither Nick or Sophie are in any position to explore this instant attraction between them. “Yeah,” I answer. “Some dipshit strung her along. Kept swearing she was the one he wanted, when the whole time, he had a girlfriend.”

That fierce light morphs, becoming more dangerous—protectiveness. Fury. “Fucking bastard.”

I like Nick. I really do. But the question has to be asked: “Weren’t you just thinking of doing something similar?”

Nick’s lips part in a mirthless laugh. “You have
no
idea what I thought of doing.”

“Again: you’re engaged.”

“You don’t need to remind me.”

I knew that Nick is less than happy about his engagement; the bitterness I see in him still takes me by surprise.

“Don’t worry,” Nick says. “I would never play with your friend. She seems like a sweet girl.” With that, he’s gone, leaving me standing here.

Well, then. All taken care of. Right?

I scoff silently, wanting to believe that but knowing it isn’t true. Every instinct I have tells me it’ll be best to keep Sophie as far away from Nick as possible.

I’m going to listen to those instincts. Nick isn’t going to end his engagement. It’s his mother’s dying wish that he marry his fianc
é
. And there’s no way in hell I’m letting Sophie become collateral to any of that.

sixteen

Paige

“I’m waiting for you at the front,” Sophie tells me over the phone.

I walk toward the entrance of the club, eyeing the dark doors. I’ve heard of this place before, but clubbing isn’t really my thing, so I never made the time to check it out. Turning down Sophie’s offer to hang out, however, never crossed my mind, regardless of the venue.

“Where are you woman?” Sophie asks.

“Coming. Coming.” My purple, sandal-heels make walking at a fast pace difficult, but I speed up anyway.

“Woman, hurry.”

“Woman,” I mimic. “When you see these heels, you shall understand.”

“O. M. G. Please tell me they’re something deliciously sexy.”

I laugh. “Yeah, they are.” Covered in lush, dark purple velvet, with thick straps that criss-cross in an
X
and wrap around my ankle, they have to be one of the hottest pairs I own. I paired it with a pair of tiny, cut off denim shorts and a loose weight tank top that allows my purple bra to peek out.

Spotting Sophie standing next to one of the bouncers, I hang up the phone and wave at her.

Sophie squeals, jogging over in her red heels. “You look ridiculously yummy!” She throws her arms around me, hugging me tight.

“So do you.” Wearing a dark grey dress, those red heels, and her hair perfectly teased in waves around her head, Sophie is a total knockout.

“This outfit is perfect Paige.” Sophie eyes me, seeming way too excited about my outfit. “Come on.” She drags me straight to the club’s entrance. The tall, tanned bouncer at the front winks at her and lets us inside.

The inside of the club is a total sensory overload. Especially for someone like me, who has only been to one club in her life, years ago. I take in the flashing lights, the crowd, and the thumping bass of the music. I have to admit that I love the red theme and the Victorian wallpaper on the walls.

We finally come to a stop at the bar. The bartender on the left end waves us over; he’d been holding an empty spot for us at the corner of the bar.

Sophie smiles at him and mouths, “Thank you.”

Apparently, she’s well known here.

We order our first round of drinks, dancing in place to the music. It suits me just fine. I fully plan to brave the throng and dance on the dance floor, but first? A status of
tipsy
has to be achieved.

My phone vibrates. Sophie smiles and points at her own phone.
2 loud 2 talk in here. But I wanted 2 ask u something.

I send her a response.
Wats up?

Wats going on W u & Eli?

Whoa. Unexpected.

Actually, I expected some kind of questioning at some point, just not right now. I consider playing dumb, but I’m sure Sophie knows quite a lot about what’s happening since she’s Eli’s best friend.
Eli is confused. Thinks he owes me or something.

R u sure he’s confused? He hasn’t wanted more W a woman in 10 years.

Exactly. Y would he now?

Maybe because ur awesome?

I smile at that.
I don’t want 2 get my <3 broken.

W his history, trust me, neither does he.

With his history? What exactly does that mean? It crosses my mind to ask. Do I really want to know, though? Sophie doesn’t say anything after that. I sneak a glance at her. She’s busy on her phone, doesn’t even glance my way.

Our drinks arrive. Sophie reaches for hers without even looking up from her phone.

So . . . conversation over?

I breathe a sigh of relief. The aim for the night is to have fun;
not
to stress over what Eli wants from me. I’m due for some fun. My stress levels have skyrocketed the last week.

And I know damn well why.

Lack of orgasms can kill a girl. Especially one that now knows what she’s been missing.

I wave at the bartender and motion for another drink.

Eli hasn’t touched me again since that day in the file room, and he left me without giving me one measly orgasm.

One. Just one. Is that too much to ask for?

But I don’t want just one orgasm from Eli. I want hundreds. Maybe even thousands. God help me, more? And I want every single one to happen with his cock pounding deep inside me.

My vibrator has lost all power over me. I can’t bring myself to come with it, no matter what setting I try.

It isn’t him.

Doesn’t feel like him.

Doesn’t sound, taste,
smell
like him.

Eli refuses to give me what I need—what we both need—unless I capitulate and agree to date him.

What happens if I agree to date him, open my heart to him, and he eventually realizes that he needs his freedom? That his need to have a variety of women is too large to ignore?

He’ll leave me.

Or worse: cheat on me and then I’ll be forced to leave him, the tattered pieces of my self-esteem dragging in my wake.

Either way, I’ll be heartbroken once again, destroyed by another man I trusted.

Not something I ever included in my life plan. All
I
need is for Eli to take my virginity so we can both move on with our lives.

So, how to convince him to do me without the strings attached?

Tempt him until he breaks. That’s how.

Next time I see him, that’s exactly what I’ll do.

Sophie leans in close and yells over the music, “Thinking about someone?”

My face flares red. I shake my head, hoping my expression is neutral.

Sophie’s lips curl in a teasing smile.

I like Sophie. Can already see us becoming very, very close in the future. However, letting her know that I have Elijah on the brain is a big no-no. I know where Sophie’s loyalties lie, and therefore what she will do with that information.

Hint: Elijah’s already ginormous ego will probably explode with its next expansion.

I turn to Sophie. “Want to hit the dance floor?”

Sophie starts to say something, then her eyes flicker to something behind me.

I start to turn, curious.

Sophie grabs my arm. “Sure. But first let me go to the bathroom.”

“I’ll go with you!” I call over the music.

“No. It’s okay. Just wait for me here!”

And she’s gone, moving unbelievably fast through the crowd.

What the hell?

Suddenly awkward on my own, I wave the bartender over again. This will be my last drink. For a while at least. I learned my lesson the last time I went out with Sophie and Eli.

Thinking of him sends another stab of hunger through me.

Damn it! Wanting that man has become the bane of my existence. He just had to go and change the game on me, turn our entire agreement upside down.

He wants to play with me. Use my emotions. Leave it all to chance.

He wants to break my heart.

Yet I still want to fuck him. More than I should.

Where does that leave me? Stuck. Always on fire for him. Raw. Dissatisfied—

A hand wraps around my hip.

My drink almost falls out of my hand.

The thought that some random guy is coming onto me flies across my mind.

Another hand comes up, taking the drink from me and placing it on the bar. The sight of it sparks recognition.

The man behind me leans in close, moving my hair aside with his face.

A scent reaches me. My heartbeat explodes, blood rushing hot under my skin.

“Paige . . . are you trying to get drunk again?”

I barely hear the question above the beat of the song playing; regardless, a shiver ripples through me as the recognition expands.

No way I could ever mistake the man at my back.

Drink forgotten, I turn.

Holy . . . fucking . . . shit.

This fucker doesn’t play fair. He’s out to kill me. Punish me for denying him what he wants.

Mouth agape, I struggle to breathe.

Eli straightens to his full height. His hair’s been trimmed, the sides even shorter than before. The strands up top are still long enough to sweep back, but he left them disheveled, as if someone ran their fingers through it.

The dark stubble covering his jaw highlights his cheekbones. His firm, perfect lips.

My pulse pounds between my legs.

I catch a glimpse of his outfit—dark jeans, light blue button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the thick black watch wrapped around his left wrist . . .

Can a woman possibly die from wanting a man too much? I feel like I’m more than halfway there.

His arms slide around me, hands landing possessively on my ass. The tips of his fingers brush my almost exposed butt cheeks. He brings me in close, nostrils flaring, and leans down to nuzzle my ear. “You smell so fucking good.”

I shiver, burrowing closer.

“Why are you wearing this outfit if you didn’t know I was going to be here?”

I reach up, kneading his shoulders. He’s so fucking yummy. Every inch of him. How can I possibly not want to eat him?

Instead of answering his question, I run my nose up the side of his neck, inhaling more of his scent.

A drugging hit, straight to the brain.

He groans in my ear.

Whimpering, I latch onto his neck with my lips, tonguing the throbbing vein beneath his skin.

“Missed me baby?” His tongue flicks my ear.

Tricky question. One I don’t dare to answer, let alone analyze too closely.

Easing me back, he stares into my eyes.

My eyes drop to his lips.

His hands squeeze down on my ass and he licks his lips.

Gasping his name, I kiss him, loving that I can feel his moan vibrating against my lips. He hugs me, squeezing the breath out of me.

Just how I like it.

He’s hugging me like he hasn’t seen me in months.

As if he missed me.

A dangerous thing to believe.
Abort!
I kiss him harder, willing my mind to get lost in the physical.

Eli ends our kiss, saying in my ear, “Easy baby.”

Cocky bastard doesn’t deserve to know that I’m ready to kill to have him. At the same time . . . can I possibly entice him to lose his mind, forget all about his foolish request to date me, and push him into fucking me tonight?

His tight hold on me says
yes
.

Gotta be brave girl. Go for it.
Placing my lips at his ear, I confess, “I
need
you.
Now
.”

“Fuck.” He puts distance between us, but grabs my hand tightly and begins leading me toward the packed dance floor.

Annoyance sparks. Then I realize I’m about to get a chance to dance with Elijah. No space between us, the crowd pressing in on us from all sides. His big body moving against mine, his scent rubbing into my skin.

Absolute torture. And, yet, excitement makes my heart beat even harder.

Eli stops once we make it closer to the middle of the dance floor, his hand flattening on my lower back. His eyes glitter darkly in the multi-colored club lights. Eli is staring at me like I’m a done deal.

His.

Caught.

Owned.

Something he plans to enjoy at his own leisure, whenever
he
decides.

My decision is simple, and much more powerful than the one I see in his eyes.
Tonight.
I’m not waiting anymore.

He’s the one that’s been caught.

Tonight, he’ll be the one that’s going to be owned.

He thinks he has a choice in how this will play out.

He couldn’t be more wrong.

That thought in mind, I let him pull me to him and slide right onto his leg.

Lips tilted in a cocky smirk, he bends his leg and raises it high.

Once again, I find myself riding his thigh.

My own thigh comes in contact with the hard ridge of his cock. “You want me,” I say into his ear.

“Fucking dying for you.”

My entire body quivers at those words. “Why don’t you take me somewhere private instead and touch me?” Of course, he doesn’t need to know that I plan on driving him wild once I have him alone—that I won’t stop until he’s inside me.

It’s his turn to shiver at my words.

That primal need for him claws up from the pit of my belly.

Cupping my neck, he nips my ear. “Because I want something else first.”

I rotate my hips to the beat of the music. “What?”

“I heard this is your first time clubbing in Boston. I want at least one dance.”