Authors: N. Isabelle Blanco
Stupid, broken me. That’s who. “It was a mistake. I called out to him. Sophie, I love him.”
“Fucking finally,” Sophie said.
“But I want to be the one to tell him,” I rushed to add. “In person.”
“He’s really angry and hurt.”
“Please convince him to talk to me, Sophie. Please?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
That night, I finally heard from Elijah. A single text.
Gilliane wants us 2 go 2gether to Boston Tech Fundraiser on Friday on behalf of comp. Here’s the address. 8pm.
Cold. Impersonal.
I tried calling him.
It went straight to voicemail.
One last pleading text from me.
Please talk 2 me. I messed up but I can explain.
Somehow, his phone wasn’t receiving calls, yet he was able to respond.
No explanation needed. It’s all vry clear.
I could’ve continued begging him. Could have told him I love him right then, over text.
I could have done any of those things. Probably would have, too, if my temper hadn’t ignited at his brush off.
Four days. I’d have to wait four long, miserable days before I could see him again.
Fine. I’d take the time to prepare, I decided. The next time I saw that infuriating asshole, I’d knock him right off his feet.
After that, I’d shake some sense into him, make him understand how I feel about him. That I can never make up for hurting him if he doesn’t
freaking let me in
.
Four days later, I find myself here. Riding the elevator up to the ballroom with Sophie by my side.
“I think I’m going to kill him, Sophie.”
Sophie smiles sadly at me. “I kind of don’t blame you for wanting to. Then again, I don’t blame him for being mad at you. Therefore, I’m firmly sticking to my Switzerland-status. I’m on neither side of this one, but I
am
rooting for you guys to work this out.”
I drum my fingers against the rail behind me, impatiently watching the floors go by.
“You look spectacular, by the way. Gold really is a great color on you.”
The entire upper body of the dress I’m wearing tonight consists of black and gold sequence. All the way to right below my ass. There, it flows out into a long, dark beige lace skirt, complete with a large slit at the front that bares both legs.
I paired it off with black, velvet peep-toe heels. My hair is once again curled so that it’s falling in waves over one shoulder.
Eli seems to love it when I wear the dark eyeliner and dark red lipstick.
So I’m wearing both.
Oh, yeah. Tonight’s all about seducing him blind. He’s mine and he knows it. Fuck if I’m letting him just slip away.
“You look gorgeous, too. As always,” I tell Sophie. That white number does wonders for Sophie’s body—a body that’s pretty much perfect to begin with. “Thanks for helping me pick out my outfit.”
“You are very welcome. Besides, as much as I love Eli and feel bad for him, that epic manwhore has had this coming for a long time. Now knock him dead woman.”
“That’s the plan,” I mumble as the elevator arrives on the right floor.
I take a deep breath, exiting—
Only to come to a sudden halt just outside the elevator.
Elijah is standing in front of the entrance to the ballroom.
He isn’t alone.
A woman is standing next to him, her arm looped around his, eyeing him with blatant interest as they speak.
And he’s smiling down at the woman, that boyish smile that I love so much.
Paige
As if he senses me, his head turns in my direction, his flat eyes landing on mine.
My hands curl into fists at my sides. Against my will, my eyes caress his body, eating up the sight he makes in that black tux.
Correction: in that black tux with a stunning, black-haired woman on his arm. All while staring at me as if I don’t matter at all.
As if we’re nothing more than what we’ve come here as—colleagues.
I know that my outward appearance—save for my clenched fists—is calm; I’m anything but. Questions rage in my mind.
Who is she?
Is she your actual date?
So, you love me, but in less than a week you find yourself someone new to hook up with?
Oh God, what if that woman isn’t his first hook-up this week? Horrible images of him fucking one woman after another bombard me.
My stomach twists with a sick pain that breaks through my physical apathy.
By the time Elijah excuses himself from the woman, I’m ready to claw his eyes out. He studies my face as he walks closer. Whatever he sees in my expression makes him speed up.
Funny, I’ve never seen a man rush to his demise before.
I stare back at him, too raw to hide how I feel.
Like a nuclear weapon about to hit its target.
Elijah’s brow furrows and he catches both my hands in his. A sharp breath leaves him. “You’re freezing.”
Impossible. My blood is
boiling.
His eyes jump from my hands to my face. “And you’re shaking.”
That one I believe. There’s too much energy, too much emotion trapped inside me.
I squeeze down on his hands, needing something to hold onto. Something to steady me.
“Elijah, introduce me to your friend.”
Eli turns. The woman he was speaking with is behind him, her brown eyes staring at us curiously.
He lets go of my hands.
By sheer force of will, I muster the strength to hide the anguish building inside me.
“Lucia. This is Paige Madson.” Elijah motions toward me. “She’s my coworker and one of the lead designers on the JouerPad Two. Paige, this is Lucia Roland. She’s on the Boston Tech board.”
One of the most important people here, then.
I still want to kill the fucking bitch.
Oh my God, what the hell is this man turning me into?
Years of professionalism are the only thing that aid me in hiding my turmoil. Smiling, I hold out my hand to Lucia. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. Thank you so much for having us here.”
Lucia shakes my hand. “JouerTech is making great strides in the industry. I would love to see the prototype for the second tablet.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged,” I say amicably.
“Well,” Lucia’s dark, lazy gaze cuts to Elijah. “I was talking to Eli about giving me a . . . private showing, so to speak. He promised to look into it.”
No power on Earth could have held back my sharp intake of breath.
My composure shatters, the emotions I’m struggling with almost barreling out. Grinding my teeth, I pray to God that I can find an opening to escape.
I’m going to fucking cry.
Eli? Seriously?
Apparently, he and Lucia are on nickname-basis.
The feel of Eli’s hand landing on my lower back makes me jump.
“If you’ll excuse us, Lucia, I see one of our colleagues.” He leads me straight into the ballroom, heading to the dance floor.
Seeing it reminds me of the night at the club. When he demanded that I admit what’s between us.
Once I’m sure that we’re out Lucia’s sight, I try to step away from him.
He yanks me into his side, never faltering in his stride.
“Let me go,” I plead under my breath.
“I already have,” is his low response, but he doesn’t release me.
I bite the inside of my cheek, tears building. He’s already let me go. That’s why he was arranging “private showings” with Lucia. “Elijah, stop. I don’t want to be near you right now.”
Another low response from him, “Trust me, the feeling’s mutual.”
That cuts me in the most vulnerable place possible. A dark, ugly place, one that whispers insecurities. The type that try to convince me that no matter what, I would have never been good enough to keep the attention of a man like him.
All I want to do is crawl into a corner, curl into a ball, and finally let loose the tears I’ve been holding in for four days.
Once more, contrary to his words, he pulls me closer, making his way onto the dance floor and spinning me right into his arms.
I whimper, my hands landing on that large chest. The same chest that had rubbed against my nipples with each powerful thrust of his cock inside me.
He hurt me that day, had been too rough with me—and I’d never known pleasure like that could exist. Now, I have no idea how to live a single second more without it.
“Please.” Unable to meet his eyes, I fist the lapels of his tux.
Abruptly, he flattens both his hands on my lower back and hauls me closer. “Please what?” he asks in a soft tone.
I can’t answer. My breath catches at the feel of him. Hard, hot, heavy.
God, I miss that cock.
His body vibrates with a low groan. He gently eases my face up toward him. His eyes widen at the sight of the tears in my eyes. “You’re actually . . . hurt?”
He has the nerve to ask me that? “God, I hate you so much right now,” I grit out, aching to pound my fist into that sexy face of his. “You told me you love me, and a few days later you’re fucking someone else. Tell me, how am I supposed to not be hurt?”
The muscle in his jaw jumps. He’s staring at me as if . . . as if he doesn’t believe me! “I haven’t fucked anyone else after you.”
My legs nearly give out with relief. Then, I remember Lucia. “Planning on it, then.”
“What do you care?” he asks, dark eyes shuttered. “You don’t want me.”
“That’s. Not. True.” How much more can I take before I lose control in front of everyone?
“That’s right. You do want something from me.” Leaning down, he brushes his lips along my jaw, his body swaying against mine, nearly destroying me. “You want my cock, don’t you? Is that why you’re so upset? Because you don’t want to share it until you’re done with it? Because you want it back inside you?”
I lower my eyes, praying no one will see the single tear dangling from my eyelashes. “Y-you asshole.”
He chuckles. “Ah. But when did I ever give you the idea that I was anything different?”
When you told me you loved me
, I think, fisting his blazer harder.
And a million other times.
His nose skims my jaw again. “Fuck. You smell so good.” His cock pulses against me. He presses his smooth, freshly shaven cheek to mine, his chest expanding with a deep breath. “God damn you, you look gorgeous. Smell even better. I want to eat every inch of you, even though I told myself I would resist you tonight.”
“Yeah. Right. That’s exactly why you were planning on being with someone else.”
Elijah reaches for one of my hands, bringing it up to his face. Eyes closed, he presses his nose to my wrist, inhaling hard. “Tell me you missed me,” he says in a rough tone.
“I did,” I admit, trying to breathe past the urge to cry. “I missed you and all I wanted to do was see you so I could tell you how I feel about you. And you were busy looking for someone else to sleep with. So much for ‘loving’ me, huh?”
His eyes fly open.
My lower lip trembles, that single tear breaking free and sliding down my cheek.
Shock flitters across his face, followed by pain. “Paige,” he groans, sounding surprised.
I choke while trying to hold back a sob. “Let me go. Please. Before someone sees me. Let me go.”
“No. We’re leaving together.”
Trembling with the force of my withheld sobs, I shake my head.
Now
he wants to leave with me? “Just let me go,” I grit out, pushing at his chest as another tear slips free.
The shock in his expression grows and his arms loosen.
Head bowed, I dart off the dance floor, hoping my hair will hide the fact that I’m crying.
. . .
Elijah
It takes me a fe
w seconds longer than it should to follow my girl.
In all fairness, shock can do that to a guy. Root him to the spot even though his life might depend on his moving.
What I saw in Paige’s eyes . . .
I hadn’t been lying to himself. The thought of me with another woman hurts her.
Because she loves—
No. I won’t finish that thought. I need to hear it from her lips.
That thought in mind, I race after her, fully aware that I’m making a spectacle.
And not caring.
I’m here to represent my company. Okay, not “my” company, but a company I helped build from the ground up.
A company I love.
But I don’t love it more than I love the girl currently dashing out of the ballroom.
So fuck it.
No sooner does the thought occur and a tall, red-haired man steps into the ballroom, turning to watch Paige as she darts past him.
Nick
? I jog up to him. “What are you doing here?”
“I reached out to him on Facebook. Told him he might need to step in on behalf of the company.” Sophie steps around Nick. “But forget that. What the fuck did you do?” Looking like she’s barely holding back from hitting me, she points in the direction Paige went. “That girl might have fucked up, but she loves you, dumbass.”
A rush hits my head at those words. Did Paige confess that to Sophie?
“Go” Nick said. “I’ve got this. Just go after your girl.”
He doesn’t need to tell me twice.
I make it to the elevators right as one heading down slides closed. Paige is nowhere in sight.
Jesus Christ, this girl. I can only hope she was on it.
Too impatient to wait for another elevator, I run into the stairwell, taking the stairs down as fast as I can. Seventeen floors. No problem. I have this. Now that I know for a fact Paige feels the same way, nothing’s going to stop me.
Taking out my phone, I slow down just enough to dial her number. Three tries and she doesn’t pick up. On the fourth try, I let her voicemail message play out. “Damn it, woman. I wasn’t going to sleep with anyone. I do love you. I came here tonight already knowing I wouldn’t be able to leave without you.”
I land on the first floor, slamming my way out into the lobby.
Just in time to see Paige rushing down a side corridor. One with less people.
I know why.
My girl is crying.
All my doing.
I’m going to fix it. Now.
More determined than ever, I follow her, gaining on her fast. She rushes through a pair of glass doors and straight outside.
A pure miasma coalesces in my gut, spreading outward. A powerful set of impulses that sets my teeth to grinding. My feet hit the smooth stone as I speed up.
Hearing my approach, she whirls around in front of a large fountain. Her tears are just beginning to dry, leaving the stain of her eyeliner behind on her cheeks. I’ve never seen her as angry as she is now, her expression hard and unforgiving.
She’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
And she’s all mine.
Paige waits for me to get close enough.
Then she slaps me, the sound of the impact cracking through the air.
“I know I’ve been a bitch to you at times. That it was cruel of me to push you away. But
fuck you
for telling me that you love me and going out there to chase something new . . . without even giving me a chance to explain things to you!”
I pop my stinging jaw and take in her heaving chest. The visceral proof of her rage. I needed to see that more than I needed her to apologize. Evidence that she’s just as possessive of me as I am of her.
Stepping toward her, I say, “I wasn’t looking for anyone else. I knew that, no matter how hurt I was, I’d end up leaving with you.”
“Then why . . .” Her anger falters, only to return with a vengeance a second later. “Oh my God! You
wanted
me to believe you might fuck someone else?”
I can’t help my guilty twitch; that was exactly what I wanted.
Paige stumbles away from me, slapping at my hands when I try to reach out to her. “Stay away from me! I said, stay away from me, you sick bastard!” She aims at my face again, and I barely manage to get out of the way on time. “
Ooooo.
If I was behind the wheel of a car right now, I swear to God, I think I might run you over!”