My Greatest Mistake (Crazy In Love Book 1)

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My Greatest Mistake (Crazy In Love Book 1) Page 11

by T Gephart


  His jaw ticked.

  Not a lot, just enough I could tell it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

  And as silly as it was, it made me feel empowered to know I’d been responsible for the crack in his usually perfect façade.

  “Then it’s settled. Mr. Carlisle will be attending a fundraiser next week. Conveniently enough, it will be for Nate’s hospital, I’ll get tickets. And we can all meet him together. Sounds like fun, doesn’t it?” Lincoln grinned.

  But it was too late for me to buy that he was happy or even excited about it. Whether he’d intended to or not, he’d let his wall down for a split second, and I’d seen the tension in his face. That smile was a complete cover.

  “So much fun.” I grinned back, and unlike him, mine was sincere.

  Nate shook his head, clocking us both with a look. “Can we eat now? When I asked you both to dinner, I’d assumed we’d actually eat. I’m starving.”

  Lincoln didn’t take his eyes off me, my body heating with excitement as he answered his friend. “That makes two of us.”

  I had no idea what I’d just agreed to, but meeting Edwin was the least of it.

  Lincoln

  Nate was surprisingly quiet on the drive home. It wasn’t like him not to tell me exactly what was on his mind and I was sure he had a lot to say.

  Dinner had been interesting.

  I hadn’t expected our additional guest, but fuck me, I was excited to see her. Of course, Nate could’ve given me a heads-up, something I’d deal with later. But Jesus, I hadn’t realized how much I’d wanted to see her until she was standing in front of me.

  It made no sense how attracted I was to her.

  She was beautiful, but I’d been with beautiful women before. But it was what was underneath that stunning exterior that really turned me on. Quick with her mouth, smart and more importantly, confident, she had no problem telling me what she thought. And I wasn’t even aware how much I craved a woman who could challenge me.

  I wanted it, desperately. Wanting all that sass and whatever else she had lurking underneath. I was positive she had a brilliant mind, and I wanted to explore every inch of it like the rest of her body.

  “Nothing?” I asked Nate, the silence in the car making me edgy. “You have nothing to say after you blindsided me?”

  Nate scoffed, shaking his head. “Oh, I think the charity gala threesome you signed us all up for trumps my harmless dinner.”

  “Fine, so it wasn’t my best idea.” I ran my hand through my hair willing to admit I might’ve panicked slightly. But Zara had been so goddamn excited to meet that asshole when she’d found out he wasn’t some senior citizen with a pacemaker, I had to think quickly.

  “Wasn’t your best idea?” Nate laughed. “Those tickets are five grand a pop. You couldn’t have thought of a cheaper way to make your point?”

  I rolled my eyes, not even concerned about the fifteen K I’d apparently signed up to part with. “Really, Dr. Baxter? Think of all the sick kids we’re going to help. And it’s your hospital. I’d have thought you’d be more supportive of my philanthropic efforts.”

  “It’s for the cardiology unit expansion, dumbass. Not kids.” Nate laughed.

  I shrugged, my mind unchanged. “Is the money going to be helping people? Yes, yes it is. Besides, I could use it as an opportunity to canvass for clients. I see no negatives here.”

  “Yeah, clients.” It was Nate’s turn to roll his eyes. “Didn’t realize your firm was expanding to New York. Or that you were changing your specialty to malpractice suits.”

  “There will be high-profile donors,” I argued back. “Like this cocksucker, Carlisle.”

  It had been one of the last things I’d read before heading down to meet Nate for dinner. Apparently he needed a bigger tax deduction for the current financial year and was attending the gala with his checkbook in tow. A little harsh perhaps, but if he had been as charitable as he expected us to believe, he wouldn’t have mentioned it on his social media page. Not that I could talk, my excuse for giving also came with an ulterior motive, but at least I wasn’t bragging about it.

  “Say I believe you—which I don’t.” Nate’s head turned in my direction. “What exactly are you going to do? Chaperone her like she’s an eighteenth-century virgin? And you still haven’t told me what role I’m supposed to play.”

  “Weren’t you going anyway?”

  “Do I look like I own a fucking yacht, Linc? And I’m not a cardiologist. Five grand is too rich for my blood.” Nate laughed. “But thanks, I always did enjoy surgical events, those elitist bastards get so annoyed when the riff-raff shows up.”

  “See, look at all the good I’m doing.” I waved my hand with a flourish.

  “Yeah, such a giver. And you still haven’t told me what you hope to achieve.” Nate held up his palm. “Don’t tell me it was for sick people or doing business either.”

  “Tell me how she ended up at dinner,” I asked, not having had the opportunity before. “If information needs to be shared, you should lead with that.”

  My mind might’ve moved on to other things but it hadn’t escaped my attention that prior to me telling Nate in the car on our way to Matteo’s, I hadn’t mentioned Zara. Or the irrational attraction I had to her. And unless he was moonlighting doing tea leaf readings and predicting the future, there was no way he could’ve known I was going to fess up either.

  Which meant he knew from another source.

  And I needed to know everything.

  “I met her a few days ago when I went for a coffee run,” he admitted with a grin. “Molly had some strange idea that the two of you were engaged. Funny, huh? And what was even more hilarious was your fake fiancée didn’t set her straight. So of course I had to get involved. Someone has to help save you from yourself.”

  Well that was interesting.

  I’d have assumed Zara would’ve been quick to correct Molly on our relationship status, but she hadn’t. And she didn’t seem to have a problem setting anyone straight. So maybe there was more to it than she was letting on.

  I coughed. “Please, when have I ever needed saving?” And more importantly, what was she doing back at the coffee place? Was she hoping to see me?

  “Lincoln, I love you, man, but you suck when it comes to women.” His hand landed on my shoulder.

  “What are you talking about? I’ve dated plenty of amazing women.”

  Not to brag, but I could score a date any time I wanted. Dating was the least of my problems.

  “And how many of these women have you kept around? Like dated for longer than a couple of months,” he clarified.

  I shrugged, not understanding how my relationship history had anything to do with him and Zara. “A few.”

  “Bullshit. You dated that one girl in college for the first year of medical school who dumped you when you switched majors. Broke your heart too as I remember it. Everyone else has been passing through. You’re a transit lounge. Don’t let anyone get too close.”

  “Kimora did us both a favor.” Not that I thought that at the time.

  He was right, she had broken my heart. I thought I was in love with her, but turns out she was more in love with dating a future doctor than who I really was. “And who I date and how long it lasts hasn’t seemed to bother you before.”

  “Because you seemed happy. But the last few times you’ve come to New York.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. You just seem so . . . empty.”

  My mouth opened to argue but I shut it again. I wasn’t sure he was entirely wrong, even if I didn’t want to admit it.

  Work had been my focus.

  Making money, being successful, and doing what I wanted to do.

  It was no accident that the woman who’d walked out on me had been my one and only serious relationship. I remembered how much it stung, and how easy she’d switched me out for some other guy. I wasn’t doing that again.

  Fuck.

  That.

  If women wanted some dude with deep
pockets, knew how to make them come fifty different ways, and looked decent in a suit, then I had that locked down. As for love, relationships, or whatever else Hallmark was peddling, I wasn’t interested. I’d rather know exactly where I stood. It didn’t make me jaded, it made me fucking honest. And no, I wasn’t worried about ending up alone. I had every intention of eventually putting a ring on it. Marriage was just another contract and I sure as hell didn’t go into a negotiation thinking with anything other than my head. But until then, I was going to enjoy playing.

  “I’m happy with the way things are.” At least, I thought I was. It was the first time in a long while I’d questioned it. “Zara would just make my time here more entertaining.”

  “Oh? All you wanted was to be entertained? Well, I guess that’s a good thing. Should make things easier when she meets the new guy and forgets all about you.” Nate chuckled, his sarcasm not missed.

  “Guess we’ll find out one way or another, right?” I shrugged, the idea of Zara with some other guy making me irrationally annoyed.

  Nate side-eyed me, not buying any of my bullshit. “Yeah, that’s the point you’re trying to prove.”

  “And what is my point?” I asked, wondering when Nate changed his specialty from Emergency medicine to psychology.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” He rolled his eyes. “You finally meet a woman who holds your interest beyond what she can do in bed, and you’re not testing to see if she trades you for another guy? Sure, that’s not fucked up.”

  Was that what I was doing?

  No.

  No, I wasn’t a bag of hurt feelings ‘boo-hooing’ in the corner because I got dumped—once—a lifetime ago.

  “Maybe it is a test,” I conceded, but not in the way he was thinking. “To prove that she wants me just as much as I want her. And it had nothing to do with her thinking I was someone else.”

  That was exactly what it was.

  She could say whatever she wanted, pretend to be indifferent, but underneath it all, she wanted me to kiss her. She wanted more than that too, all of which I’d happily give her as soon as she admitted it. And no rich boy from the Upper East Side was going to change that.

  “Seems like a lot of effort.” Nate stroked his chin as we pulled up to his apartment building. “But okay, whatever. I’ll get my tux dry cleaned.” His hand went to the door handle. “I’m sure we’ll iron out the details in the next few days.”

  I lifted my hand in a wave as he exited the car. “Let me know if you want to bring a date, I’m feeling generous. Might give you something else to focus on instead of me.”

  Nate shook his head. “And miss out on watching you make a fool of yourself with this woman? Please, I’m not going to want to miss a second.”

  He was wrong, but I didn’t prolong the goodbye, watching Nate disappear into his building before the car headed back to my hotel.

  After it was established we’d all be meeting Edwin Carlisle, which meant I’d be escorting her to the gala, dinner had been great. She’d let her walls down a little—or at least that’s how it seemed—and the conversation had been easy and relaxed. And other than Nate being with us, it felt like we were back at the coffee shop like that first night. She genuinely seemed interested in what I had to say, and I couldn’t get enough of her.

  She was infectious, and so goddamn captivating I wanted to keep talking to her all night. It wasn’t just that she was smart or driven, something I found incredibly attractive. But she was funny and witty too. And as for beautiful, she defied the definition. She was the entire package, something I wasn’t even sure existed, so saying goodbye at the end of the night had really sucked. I’d even offered her a ride, hoping to spend more time with her.

  But Zara politely declined, thanking me for dinner and giving Nate another hug—his second for the evening. And while she didn’t offer me the same, meaning our contact was reduced to a warm but platonic handshake, she did hand me her number. Under the guise of me contacting her regarding the gala or whatever, she’d given me her business card with her handwritten cell number on the back. I didn’t care what excuse she needed to tell herself, or whether it had been genuinely to facilitate our next “date.” All that mattered was I had her number, and it had been honestly obtained.

  Her card was pulled out from my pocket as the car approached the hotel, my fingers tapping the edges as we came to a stop.

  “Will that be all for this evening, sir?” Terry—the driver—opened my door.

  I slid out of the car, anxious to get back to my room. “Yes, thanks, Terry. I have a late meeting at eleven tomorrow so you can take most of the morning off. I’ll call you if my plans change.”

  He gave me a curt nod, shutting the door behind me before returning to the driver’s side. I didn’t always get the same driver whenever I was in town, but I liked Terry. He knew how to keep his mouth shut but wasn’t a robot either, important with the amount of sensitive conversations I had in the car. Case in point, he hadn’t asked me about Zara when he’d driven her home and it was obvious he’d heard Nate and I talking about her.

  The firm might be picking up the tab, but he was earning an extra big tip from me.

  Nodding to the doorman as I entered, I went straight to the elevator and headed up to my floor. I wanted out of the suit, and wondered if she was doing the same, peeling that dress off her gorgeous body. The thought of it got me hard, my cock bobbing against the fly of my pants as I headed to my room.

  I wondered if she knew how sexy she was, and how much I wanted to run my hands all over those curves.

  My chest rose, pushing out a hard breath as I closed the door and switched on the light, a soft glow flooding the living area of my suite. I didn’t waste any time, taking off my clothes as I moved through the space, tossing them onto the couch. Normally, I’d head to the shower, jerk off and then go to sleep, but I didn’t want to rush it.

  I didn’t want the distraction of the spray beating down on my skin, or the sound of the water taking me from my fantasy, reaching down and palming myself when I was fully naked.

  My knotted fist slid up and down my shaft slowly, the friction of skin on skin adding a slight bite of pain as I sunk down onto the couch.

  Mmmmmmmmmm, I wanted her.

  Wanted it to be her hand—no, her mouth, around my cock, watching her as she swallowed me down into her throat.

  I imagined what she’d look like, how she’d stare at me with those intense beautiful eyes of hers and how insane she’d make me.

  She would tease me, keeping her movements slow and steady, making me suck in desperate breaths as I fought the urge to beg.

  I’d want to. Hell, I’d want to do it so damn much, but I’d resist, so damn curious to see how long she’d draw it out.

  My chest heaved as my breathing quickened, my hand moving up and down my shaft faster and tighter as I indulged the fantasy.

  I was desperate for her, wanting her mouth and body more than I wanted my own orgasm, but I was chasing it down all the same.

  “Fuck,” I groaned, closing my eyes and recalling her in vivid detail.

  There wasn’t a thing about her I would change, turned on by her in so many ways I was positive she could tell me to go fuck myself and I’d still find it the sexiest thing ever.

  “Yeah, baby,” I breathed out, the conjured-up images of her dark attitude-filled eyes making me harder than I could stand. “God, I want you.”

  There were no delusions it was my hand and not hers, but as my balls drew up and my fist pumped, it was thoughts of her that had me begging to come.

  Heat jacked up my spine, my legs kicking out as my ass lifted off the sofa, my hand tight around my cock.

  It was her name I shouted out, the image of her on her knees in front of me had me coming so fucking hard I almost couldn’t breathe. Hot jets pulsed from my dick as I spilled my load onto my stomach. My other hand cupped my balls, squeezing a little as I continued to throb, the orgasm nowhere near as satisfying as I’d hoped.


  Sure, it had knocked the edge off, loosened my muscles and eased the tension, but it only reinforced how much I didn’t want a substitute.

  It was her, and only her, and I could jerk off five more times and I was certain I’d always end up with the same result.

  Well.

  Fuck.

  Zara

  It wasn’t a date.

  I wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but it was not a date, at least that was what I’d told myself as I avoided calling or texting him.

  Dinner with Nate and Lincoln had been unexpected.

  I’d gone in assuming it would be weird and awkward, but I had a point to prove. Not that I was clear on what that point was anymore, but I’d definitely had an objective.

  Having a good time hadn’t been it.

  And yet, try as I might to avoid his goddamn charm and keep my head in the game, I’d found myself actually enjoying his company.

  He was funny and smart, and the ease with which he could slip between different topics of conversation was impressive. Seriously, he could seamlessly move from some obscure precedent he’d found to support a case he’d worked on three months ago to his stance on cats being assholes. He wasn’t a fan apparently and wasn’t shy about voicing it. And all the way through it—even though he’d regained his usual cockiness—he was attentive, interested in my thoughts while being sure to include Nate as well.

  It was oddly arousing, the contradiction of this man who was confident, well-spoken and incredibly sexy with an underlying awareness and consideration. It was a lethal mix, and one which reinforced why I’d been so attracted to him in the first place.

  But I also wasn’t stupid. And while I was no longer angry about his earlier deception when we’d met, I still felt conflicted about wanting more with him.

  There was no scope for a long-term relationship. It was hard enough when you lived in the same city, dealing with conflicting schedules, and demanding caseloads and everything else that went with life. Add in miles and forced separation and you had a recipe for disaster. And a man like Lincoln didn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d be happy with something long distance. Not when he could have a different woman in his bed every night.

 

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