Arrogant Playboy

by Wolf, Alex

  He sets his fork down and shakes his head. “No. The first time I met you, and every time we spoke after that.”

  I stare right at him, eyes wide. “What?”

  “When I first met you and the whole time we dated. I never told anyone in Chicago, except my mom. I’d talk to her about you on the phone.”

  “Why would you tell her and nobody else?”

  He shrugs. “I never had to measure up to her, I guess. I don’t know. She wasn’t a great athlete or anything, didn’t play favorites or compare me to my brothers. She was just my mom.”

  “So why was I never allowed to meet her?”

  “I don’t know. She was always with the family. It’s not like I had many opportunities to get you alone around her. And we were always hanging out with your family.”

  “Because you never said a word about yours, ever.”

  “I know. It was my fault, all of it. Trust me, I know.”

  “Do you though?”

  “Pais.” He reaches out and grabs my hand.

  I want to yank it back, but I can’t because God, it feels so good when he touches me. There’s no hurt there when his hand is on mine, and I want to just stop hurting. Seven years I’ve been this way and it never goes away unless Donavan Collins is touching me.

  “If I could do things over…” He sighs. “I can’t, though. It kills me, every damn day, twenty-four seven. I put that on anything.”

  I nod. “Well, I forgive you.”

  “You say that…”

  I shake my head. “No, Donavan, I can’t see there ever being anything more between us, but I do mean it. I’m being a hundred percent honest with you right now. I forgive you. I promise.”

  He swallows, hard, and nods. “O-okay. Thank you.”

  We finish the rest of our meal in awkward silence and I wonder if I really do mean what I said, not about forgiving him, but about there ever being more between us.

  The waiter comes over and offers up a dessert menu. I feel like if I eat anything else, I might die. I didn’t come close to finishing my steak, but I’ll take the leftovers to Dad. Maybe he’ll forgive me for Donavan coming over if I show up with part of a ribeye.

  Damn it, no, he won’t. I have to throw it out, because he’ll see we went to Gibsons and lose his mind.

  Donavan looks the menu over and smiles, then turns to the waiter and says, “Pecan pie, please.”

  My stomach lurches as the waiter walks away. “Why the hell did you order that?”

  He stares at me like I must be insane. “What? You love it.”

  I shake my head. “Uhh, no, it’s literally the worst.”

  “What? We ordered it on our first date, and you ate every bite and raved about it, more than once.”

  I burst out laughing. More of the tables have filled up around us and it’s loud enough to elicit some glances.

  Donavan snickers and stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “What the hell?”

  The laughing won’t stop, and I stare at him. I wonder if I’m having a breakdown, or if this is just a natural response to all the other emotions that have run their course this evening. “I can’t believe you remembered that.”

  “Our first date? How could I forget? We went to that little place over by campus. I could give you a play by play of the entire evening, down to the minute.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, really.” He leans back and smiles. “Hell, I was on top of the world that night.”

  I point at him, nodding. “And you did order pecan pie, I remember it all now. That was the one red mark on our date.”

  He pretends to be offended. “What? There were no red marks. I slayed. You said you loved it, repeatedly.”

  “Of course I did. It was our first date, and I’d wanted you to ask me out for so damn long. I had the biggest crush on you, and I wanted you to think you got every single thing right. So I pretended to like it because you liked it so much.”

  Donavan bursts into a laugh this time and now it’s my turn to stare.

  “What?” I can’t help but start snickering now and attempt to deflect. “Someone take a picture. Holy shit. Donavan Collins is laughing in front of me. What’s so funny?”

  “I hate pecan pie too. It was terrible. I just thought you loved it so…”

  We’re both nearly in tears now and people stare at us like we’re insane.

  The waiter walks back over with it and sets it on the table. Donavan pays the check and we both get up and leave the whole giant wedge of pecan pie right in the middle of the table.

  “Come on,” he says. “There’s somewhere else I want to take you.”

  He holds out his hand.

  I stand there, staring at it, then look at him for a brief moment. I need to tell him to take me home. I kept my promise, came in, and had dinner with him. It’s just when he smiles, when he’s himself for a few minutes… What could it hurt?

  To pretend things are fine for an hour and actually be happy. I deserve to be happy, for just a little bit. I want it more than anything.

  Reluctantly, I reach out and take his hand.

  * * *

  Donavan pulls us into the firm’s parking garage.

  “What the hell? You bringing me to work with you?”

  “Oh zip it, woman.” Donavan grins.

  “I’m not logging any billable hours for your department.”

  He gets out of the car and walks around and opens my door for me. When I step out, I grab my jacket and put it on.

  “We’re not going to work. I just didn’t want to walk a mile and a half.”

  “And…” I lift my eyebrows at him.

  “Okay, I’m a cheap-ass and didn’t want to pay to park or take a cab.”

  “There he is. Still in there, despite all the smiles and laughter.” I can’t help but notice I’m grinning more than I should be. Grinning more than I have in a very long time, actually.

  He holds out a hand and this time I don’t even think before I take it.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I’ll show you in a minute.” We head up the road and turn down Michigan Avenue.

  “The Gage?”

  He shakes his head then presses the button for us to cross the street at a stoplight. When it tells us we’re free to walk, I freeze up.

  “Donavan, I don’t know…”

  He squares his shoulders in front of me. “Come on, we used to always talk about coming here, and walking through the park, back when we were in New York. Then we always ended up staying in Manhattan and studying.”

  “Yeah, studying, that’s exactly what we did in Manhattan.” I shake my head at him, grinning.

  The corners of his mouth turn up into a sly grin of his own. “I was trying to keep it PG out here.”

  His hand slides back down into mine, and our fingers intertwine. It’s like we’re twenty-three again, the second our fingers touch, and I can’t stop that feeling that consumes me from within. The one that just wants to make Donavan happy and give him whatever he wants. We walk across the street, holding hands, and I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be sending him mixed signals like this.

  I already know what will happen the next time I put up any resistance. He’ll say I’m playing games with his head, even though I told him at the restaurant he’ll never have me again. That will conveniently slip his mind, but right now, the evening is kind of perfect. From dessert on, anyway.

  I’ve been to Millennium Park dozens of times, as a child and a teen, but Donavan and I never made it here when we were in town at the same time.

  We walk past the trees, and through the courtyards with the skyscrapers shooting up all around us on one edge, and the calm of the lake on the other side. It’s a gorgeous spring night and the sun just set over the buildings, but it’s still throwing up a light purple haze just over the top of the skyline. When I look out to the east, it’s inky black with the stars surprisingly clear, even with all the light pollution from the city.

 
; Both of us remain silent and take in the park as we stroll through. I keep glancing down at his hand, then back up, but he looks straight ahead. I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling. I’d pay good money to get inside that head of his just once. Just so I could know why he really did what he did to me and my family. Where did that all come from?

  What, I had better grades than him? It seems so stupid to me, but clearly it isn’t to him. Why is he the way he is? His family seems like a normal family to me.

  I guess everyone’s own experience in life is unique to just them. Our brains and programming are all wired from our own existence and perceptions. How can a man who seems to have it all—intelligence, looks, charm—be so tortured?

  “This is nice, but I need to go home soon.” I glance up at Donavan.

  His eyes stay locked straight ahead. “I know, just one more thing first.”

  My chest tightens and my throat is dry, like it’s filled with sand. This is so romantic, and his guard is down, and I know if I stick around much longer, I’ll do exactly what he wants. I know myself and I’m playing with fire.

  We come to a stop, right in front of Cloud Gate, the giant chrome bean. It’s gorgeous like always, especially with the moonlight dancing off it. We stop in front of it, the stars bright overhead. I look around and take in everything.

  It’s beautiful. Perfect.

  Not just the scene surrounding us, but Donavan too. I want to just forget everything that’s happened and start fresh, a clean slate. But, I can’t. The wounds are there, and they run too deep.

  Both of his palms slide up to my cheeks and it’s like he can read my thoughts, knows all my reservations. His eyes hold what they always held in them, the truth. Like he sees right through me, like it’s all a façade and he knows all he has to do is say the right things and the walls will crumble.

  I hate him for that, and at the same time I want him so damn bad, because I know there’s not another man on the planet who can look at me the way he’s looking at me right now.

  Instinctively, I lean into his touch. I can’t stop myself. It’s just one night, anyway. Tomorrow, things will go back to exactly how they were.

  “Pais, I’m sorry.”

  “Donavan, I…”

  “I know, but this is the best I can do for a proper apology.” He sighs, his eyes angling up to the sky, then back down to me. “It’s all I’ve got. I know you said you forgive me, and that we’ll never be together, and I understand. I just… You deserve this apology, the best I’m capable of.”

  I start to say something, but he leans down and our lips meet, gently. And just like that, I want to melt into him. His arms wrap around me, and I feel what I haven’t felt in the seven years or so, since we were together for the last time—safe. My body comes alive, like an instant pain reliever. It all just washes away.

  I don’t want him to make me feel this way, but I can’t help what I feel. I can’t help the way he makes me want to give in. I want to hand my heart back to him, knowing he’s going to drive a knife through it. In my mind, in this moment, it would all be worth it, just for a few seconds of—this.

  My lips part and we stand there, in front of the bean, kissing while the rest of the world and the past fades away.

  His hands slide down, and his fingers dig into my waist. It’s so possessive, like he’s afraid to let go, afraid to lose his grip on me. My heart comes alive, thudding in my chest. Every nerve ending in my body fires at once, all funneling down between my thighs, and I press into him even harder. His cock is hard in his slacks and presses up against my stomach.

  You can’t do this, Paisley. You can’t.

  Why can’t my brain just shut up and give me one night of happiness? I haven’t had that in so damn long it aches in every fiber of my being. Just one night without the anxiety, without missing what I lost so long ago.

  Donavan’s lips slide around to my neck and he yanks me to him, harder, pressing himself against me. I’m so wound up I might combust right here on the spot.

  He kisses up my neck until his lips are next to my ear. “I need you.”

  My body is on fire for him, and I nod.

  No!

  “Donavan.” My word comes out on a gasp as he nips at my ear.

  “Don’t tell me no.”

  “I can’t do this.”

  “Yes.” His teeth graze my neck as he pulls away and looks straight into my eyes. “You can. Come on.”

  He yanks on my hand, and I follow him.

  I should tell him to piss off then sprint the opposite direction. “I can’t go home with you.”

  “Yes you can. In fact, you are.”

  Despite me telling him no, I follow. “It’s not a good idea.”

  He glances over at me and smirks. “Since when have we ever made good decisions together? Tonight is no different.”

  Shit.

  One foot in front of the other, I walk behind him back toward his car. It’s always been this way, and I should’ve known, coming back here, being in his presence, I’d make the same mistakes I already did. But I want him so damn bad.

  I just want us both to smile, even if it’s for a few hours.

  This won’t end well, but I do it.

  I follow him, knowing one of us is bound to destroy the other.

  Donavan

  “Seriously, this is where you live? The Legacy building? Why’d you park at the firm’s parking garage?”

  “Didn’t know if I was bringing you home or not.”

  She grins in the playful way that makes my dick even harder. “You didn’t want me to know where you lived until you knew I was a sure thing tonight.”

  I pull her in close to me in the opulent lobby of my building and mash my lips against hers to do two things. One, shut her up, and two, keep her from thinking about shit until she’s naked in my bed.

  If there’s one thing I know about Paisley Williams, it’s that this moment is fleeting. If her brain gets churning, she’ll be out the door—fast. I can’t have that. I need her right now.

  We’re full-on making out in the middle of the lobby and I don’t give one fuck. If a kiss could be rated R, this one is that. I grip her ass in both palms, and fuck, I don’t even know how to describe what this woman does to me.

  “I can’t believe you don’t like that song.”

  “That conversation is the furthest thing from my mind right now.” I squeeze her ass harder in my palms. Thinking Out Loud came on the radio in the car, and Paisley went on and on about it.

  Her eyes roll up for a second, then land back on mine. “But, it’s Ed Sheeran. Everybody loves Ed Sheeran. And it’s so romantic.”

  “All I said is it’s not the most romantic song on the planet. I never said I don’t like it.” I lean down to her ear. “Though I’m liking it less every second we talk about it while I’m not inside you.”

  “Okay, I need to see your bedroom, immediately.” She bites my lower lip.

  I pick her up.

  Her legs wrap around my waist and she digs her heels into my ass. I haul her straight toward the elevator, kissing a trail up her throat.

  The elevator ride seems to take forever, way too long.

  “You live in the penthouse or what, Collins?”

  “I wish.” We get off on the fortieth floor and I fumble for my keys in my pocket while simultaneously trying to kiss her and carry her to my door.

  My cock is so fucking hard it aches, and she keeps grinding her pussy against me.

  Finally, we get there, and I slam her back against my door, propping her up against the wall with my chest while I open the door with my key. I keep my eyes locked on hers the entire time.

  It’s been seven years, and holy hell have I missed her eyes, and just—this. No woman has ever been so in sync with me. I thought over the years, after Paisley, that I’d meet women with more experience, that surely law school sex with Paisley wasn’t the best it was going to get. I was wrong. I’ll never forget the first tim
e she told me she liked it rough in the bedroom. That she liked to submit, but I had to earn it. That’s what did it for her. It was exactly what I wanted too.

  I finally get the key in the lock, but I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s so fierce and strong and smart, by far the most intelligent woman I’ve ever known. Looking in her eyes, I know what an idiot I was.

  I was so caught up in my own little world and goals, with tunnel vision, not caring who I hurt or fucked over along the way, or how close they were to me. It was all about proving myself to everyone else, when I’d already done that with the one person who mattered.

  Maybe this is only one night to revisit everything, all those old feelings and emotions, but I’m going to make every fucking second of it count with her.

  I finally get the door open and we stumble through into the living room. Somehow, she peels my shirt off me before I even set her down on her feet. Once she’s standing in front of me she moves for my pants, and I whip her around by the shoulders and have my hand around her throat, walking her toward the floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over Millennium Park and Lake Michigan behind it.

  She gasps for air the second I do it, and I shove her up against the glass, my chest to her back. I pull her back far enough to palm both of her breasts and squeeze both nipples between my thumb and forefingers. Her head flies back, her eyes rolling up to her head. I can see every one of her reactions, barely, in her reflection on the window.

  I lean next to her ear, so she can feel my breath play across her neck as I say, “I’m gonna strip you naked right here. So the whole goddamn world can see you’re mine again.”

  “Holy shit.” Her breaths grow ragged, and her neck tenses. “You haven’t changed at all, have…”

  I grip her by the hair and dig my knuckles against her scalp. With my other hand, I rip her blouse open. Buttons fly everywhere and rattle off the glass and the hardwood floors. I slide one hand back around her throat, and one hand squeezes her breast over her black lace bra.

  Fuck, I missed her tits, her ass, her mouth—everything. This back and forth between us has had me so wound up I can barely see straight. I slide my hand down her stomach and take my fingers just inside the hem of her skirt, teasing right above her pussy. “Do you know how much I’ve missed this fucking body, Pais?”