Society Girls: Neveah (5 page)

“You’re just who I need, which you already
knew. Thank you for bringing Gavin here.”

“Did it help?”

“It did. He also gave me some things to
think about.”

“Well, go forth and think young
Padawan.”

“Star Wars? Really?”

“Yes, really. She likes to tease people with
Star Wars references,” Gavin says as he walks out into the
hall.

“I don’t remember you complaining when that
happened.”

“Still not complaining. It’s hot.”

“I think I should leave now.”

“Good idea,” Gavin tells me.

“Gav!”

“What? You want her to see
us? Or
hear
us?”

I know he’s messing with her, because all of
the offices are soundproof, and Faith can turn off the listening
devices and cameras. I laugh, because they’re kind of adorable
together. Not that I’d ever tell her that. She’s still fierce, even
when she’s looking a little vulnerable.

“Just go back into my office, troublemaker,”
she tells him, before turning back to me. “And you, go think, but
also pretend this didn’t happen.”

“I saw and heard nothing,” I tell her,
laughing even harder as she runs into her office after her man.

I have to go home and get ready to see my
man. No, that’s not right. Dylan’s not mine. He’s just…I don’t even
know. I have to focus on the guns, and I don’t mean those sexy
biceps of his. Damn it! I’m doomed. Completely, and totally
doomed.

Dylan

I open my front door expecting Neveah to be
in jeans and a t-shirt again. I couldn’t be more wrong. My mouth
drops and my dick gets hard as I see her bare legs and strappy
heels first. When she stands outside her car door, her long hair is
in waves, caressing her curves that are straining under a neon
purple strapless dress. The skirt of the dress is flared, which is
honestly worse than if it was tight. All I can imagine is her
sitting on my lap, and riding me hard—with her dress still on. I
would peel the top down and…

“Is everything okay, Dylan?”

I force my eyes from her hips to her face,
and see how nervous she looks. As some of the blood rushes north
again, I see her shifting uneasily. “You look gorgeous, Nev.”

“Thanks. You looked a little freaked out
when you saw me. You wanna tell me about that?”

God, I love this girl.
Like. I
like
her.
Shaking my head to clear it, I give her a classic “Dylan Gallagher”
answer. “I thought it was a different kind of gun you wanted to
touch tonight, but hey, we’re more than happy to
oblige.”

“Different gun? Seriously? You’re referring
to…that…as a gun now?” she sputters, gesturing to my crotch.

There’s no hiding my woody in these shorts.
Not that I’d hide it anyway. Well, maybe for her. NO! Jesus, what
the fuck is wrong with me?

“Why not?”

“I think I should leave.”

She can’t leave. Not only will my puppet
master kick my ass for it, but I want her to stay. “What? No.
Please don’t go. I was just kidding around. I promise to
behave.”

“This is important to me, Dylan. Really,
really important. I shouldn’t have put on this stupid dress or
heels. I…never mind, it’s stupid. I have a bag in my car in case of
emergencies. I can change.”

She turns back to her car, but there’s no
way in hell I’m letting her cover up. “Don’t. I meant it when I
said you look gorgeous. And I want to know what you think is too
stupid to tell me.”

“No. I—no.”

“It can’t be that bad,” I say, pulling her
to me and tangling one of my hands in her hair, while I wrap the
other one around her waist.

She plays with the collar of my t-shirt
while avoiding my eyes. “I just. Damn it, I looked up the women you
usually date. They have perfect hair, and sexy dresses, and heels.
I’m not glamorous, but I wanted to try and look like the kind of
girl you’d want tonight.”

I’m in shock, like literally in shock right
now. And it’s time for us to get some things straight. “Come on,” I
tell her stepping back and grabbing one of her hands. “This is a
conversation for inside, not my driveway.”

I lead her inside and sit on one of my
couches, pulling her down next to me. “We could just forget I said
all of that.”

“No,” I tell her, tipping her chin up. “I
can’t forget. Are you paying attention?” she nods, and I continue.
“First, I don’t date. Any woman you saw me with was either just for
publicity, a friend with benefits I took somewhere, or an actress,
model, or singer who I saw and wanted to fuck. Or who wanted to
fuck me, so they had their agent call my agent. No dating.”

“Got it, you don’t date. This is
just…um…what is this?”

How am I making this worse? “This,” I say,
waving a hand between us,” is different than anything I have ever
done before. Never doubt that.” She won’t doubt it soon, and I’m
never doing anything like this again. “Moving on, you look hot no
matter what. Glamour is overrated on many occasions.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m pretty sure you were in jeans when we
were making out on this couch last night.”

She shrugs. “You were slumming?”

I cup her face and make sure her beautiful
amber eyes are looking directly into mine. “Do not say that! Ever.
You are…you’re fucking amazing, and smart, and funny…and better.
You’re better than so many women I come across. Women who only want
the MVP. I don’t feel like a baller when I’m with you.”

“But are you playing me? Is this all a game
to you?”

I am, but I’m realizing more and more that
it’s not. “What’s going on between us is real to me, Nev. So damn
real.”

“It’s real to me, too.”

I lean in and kiss her, just a little kiss
so she knows my words are true. I dodged one of her questions, and
pretty soon she’s going to want to doubt everything I’m saying and
doing. I need her to believe it’s not all part of the plan I’m
bound to. I want to be here with her.

* * *

Neveah

I kiss Dylan for several minutes before
pulling back, and licking my lips. I love the taste of him, all
masculine and sexy. I know it’s silly and romantic, both of which
have no place here, but I can’t help it. I love the taste of
Dylan.

“I need to try and pick up the gun. And I’m
not talking about the one in your pants, although I might do that
one day.”

“One day, but not today?”

“I need to go slow, Dylan. I’m not a virgin,
but your reputation scares me. You admitted you only sleep around.
I’m not that kind of girl. I don’t do ‘friends with benefits’ or
continued casual hookups. If you want one night, I can give that to
you, but the only other option involves that dreaded ‘B’ word you
don’t do.”

I hold my breath as he
searches my eyes. I’m not sure he’s going to say anything, and if I
didn’t think he could help me with my gun problem, I’d get up and
walk out. I don’t know why or how, but I
know
he can help me. So, I sit and
wait for what seems like forever, but is probably only about a
minute.

“Neveah Ayoub,” he starts, swallowing hard,
“will you be my girlfriend?”

“I-I—are you sure that’s what you want?”

“I’m sure,” he tells me without
hesitation.

“Then yes. I’ll be that…your
girlfriend.”

“There’s just one thing.”

“What?” I ask, scared of the answer.

“I think we should keep this just between
us. For now, not forever,” he adds, no doubt seeing the tears that
are forming in my eyes. “You already know I don’t have experience
with being a boyfriend. I don’t want the added pressure of my
sister, your friends, and hell, my mom.”

“You’re not ashamed of me?”

“God no, Nev.
Never
. I could never be
ashamed of you. Please believe me.”

“Okay. We can keep this quiet for now. I
can’t—won’t—be a dirty little secret for anyone, but we can see how
this goes before telling anyone.”

“Thank you. I won’t let you down.”

“My standards are pretty high.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me.”

“I want flowers, and candles, sweet kisses,
and I don’t know. You’ll think of some other things to romance me
with.”

“I will,” he agrees. “Are you ready to
examine your first gift from me more closely?”

“No, but I’m going to anyway.”

He stands up and offers me his hand. I take
it and walk into the kitchen with him. The gun is sitting exactly
as I left it last night. That honestly makes me a little nervous,
and it must show.

“What’s wrong?”

“You left the box open. What if someone who
worked for you touched it, or did something. I mean, I’m sure
they’re trustworthy, but still.”

“No one but me has been here today. I don’t
have a full-time staff. This place is big, but I don’t use all of
it. A cleaning crew comes in three times a week. They’ll be here
tomorrow, so the gun will go in the safe downstairs tonight. Unless
you take it home, that is.”

“Let’s just take one thing at a time.”

I make those final steps to the island, and
brace my hands on either side of the box as I peer in. The gun
hasn’t changed since I saw it at the gala, or since I saw it
yesterday. It’s still a small pistol, probably a .22. It’s silver
and it has orange fire opal inlays.

“How long have you been actively trying to
do this? Or have you been?”

“I’ve tried to overcome my fear for a few
years now, but I actively started trying last year, and then I
immersed myself in all the info I could get starting about three
months ago.”

None of that is a lie, but it’s not the
whole truth, either. I can’t tell him about the Society. If the
dating thing works out, I may be able to one day, but I definitely
can’t do that today. I’m not sure a relationship should be started
with half-truths, and I know our secret almost caused Sierra to
lose her boyfriend, Joel, but there’s nothing I can really do right
now. I’ll just make sure to tell him every other truth I can.

In the meantime, I came here for a reason,
and I’m going to pick up this gun. Even if it kills me, which could
happen. My heart is racing, and I’m feeling a little light headed
as I reach out tentatively with my right hand.

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.
I CAN DO THIS!

I
can’t
do this, I realize as my hand
freezes. I start to pull back, but Dylan’s hand comes to rest on
top of mine. Not holding it, or forcing me forward, just resting on
me, giving me his strength. His other hand moves my hair off one
shoulder, and his mouth lands on my neck. I feel the soft ridges
and the little rough patches where his lips are slightly chapped,
as he runs them up and down my skin.

“No pressure, Nev. You do it if it feels
right. If it doesn’t, we try again tomorrow.”

I could say it’s his mouth on my neck that
makes me move my hand forward. Or that it’s his hand on mine. It
could be those words of support. I honestly don’t know what makes
me finally do it. I only know that I reach out and touch that gun.
I run my fingers over it twice, and then I wrap my hand around it
and pick it up.

I grip it in my hand,
keeping my hand off the trigger the way I’ve seen my friends, and
my mentor, do. It feels so much lighter than I thought it would,
almost insignificant. How can something so small cause so much
harm? That thought has me fighting myself. I want to put it down,
but yet I want to keep holding on. I
want
to be strong enough to hold onto
it.

“You’ve got this, sweetheart. You’re doing
it.”

I nod, knowing he’ll feel the motion since
he’s still worshipping my neck. “I’m doing it.”

I turn it over in my hand, feeling the
weight and getting used to it. I was wrong about the caliber. I now
see that it’s a .25 and not a .22. I bring my other hand up and
spread my legs, getting into the stance I’ve been taught by Matt
and Faith. Dylan’s lips stop moving on my neck, and I feel him
straighten as both of his hands move to my arms.

“That’s it,” he says as he rubs my arms.

“I want to try and shoot it.”

“Okay. My range is downstairs. I didn’t
think you were ready to see it yesterday.”

“I wasn’t, and I’m not now,
either. I
want
to
shoot this gun, but I
can’t
yet.”

I lower my arms and place
the gun back in the box. I have to wipe the sweat from my hands on
my dress, which I know is not sexy at all, but it is what it is.
“You were amazing right now. You
are
amazing. And hot. You looked so
fucking hot right now.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m going to grab us both a beer, and then
I’m taking you back to that couch for part two of the evening.”

“Hmm…yes, please. Maybe I’ll even put my
hands on that other gun of yours after all.”

“Who needs beer?” he asks, swooping me up
into his arms and carrying me to the couch. It looks like this
night is just going to keep getting better and better!

Neveah

“Okay, you need to spill,” Sierra tells
me.

“About?” I ask, pretending I don’t know,
even as I smell the flowers that were just delivered for me. This
is the third time in a week, and I keep saying I have no clue who
is sending them.

“If you don’t know who they’re from, I’ll
just take them home with me,” Rhieve teases.

“Touch them and die,” I practically
growl.

“You know you want to tell us,” Rose
says.

“Not yet.”

“Is he a wanker? Asshole?” Jen asks,
reverting back to her British slang even though she’s trying to
keep with the American phrases.