by Ava Harrison
“You’re far away,” Drew says, cocking his head to the side to watch me.
“I have a lot on my mind,” I say, tearing my eyes from his and toying with the napkin for something to preoccupy me.
“Bailey.” He says my name like a command. “Look at me.”
I do, and the way the glow of the lamps hanging from the walls around us casts shadows across his face makes him all the more mysterious . . . and beautiful.
“I was just thinking, I don’t know much about you,” I say, trying to change the subject.
He bites the inside of his cheek. “What’s to know? I work hard, and I don’t have a lot of time for a social life outside of my club. I’m looking to branch out so that can change.”
“You want a social life?”
“Why not? Life’s short, and I’ve spent the better half of mine working,” he muses.
“What would you do if you had more time?”
He shrugs, placing his napkin on his own lap. “I guess I’d buy a boat.”
I smirk. “Captain Drew?”
He chuckles. “Sure.”
“Hmm.” I consider the options. “I don’t know much about boats, but I love the ones with the open bow.”
“Interesting,” he says. “I can see it, you know.”
I purse my lips. “See what, exactly?”
“You. Seated, leaning back on the front of the boat, the wind blowing through your hair. Not a care in the world.”
As he paints the picture, I can see it too. I smile.
“Sounds amazing.”
“Yeah. A boat for sure,” he says with a smile in his voice.
“What else would you do?”
He appears to ponder that for a moment. “I guess I’d buy a lake house. Somewhere away from the city, where I could just relax.”
“You said you wanted a social life. What you’re explaining sounds more like solitude.”
“I’d invite people to visit.”
“What people?” I challenge, leaning over the table and grinning.
“You, for starters.”
“Employees?” I raise my brow.
“No, Bailey. Just you.”
I sit back, cheeks heating at the intensity of his stare. The feeling akin to being stripped bare.
20
Bailey
The rest of the dinner goes well. We talk about mundane topics, nothing too personal and nothing to do with Silver or his future business dealings.
Why we are here, outside of his having mentioned he wanted to buy the place, is besides me. We haven’t so much as discussed any of that.
As our dinner plates are removed, I decide to broach the topic. “So, why did we come here? Are we testing the cuisine, or are you looking to renovate the place?”
He shakes his head. “Neither.”
I raise a brow. “Neither?”
“Neither,” he repeats, smiling. “I wanted to celebrate your promotion.”
I blink. What? He brought me to one of the fanciest restaurants in the city for . . . me?
“Celebrate?” I say, voice thick with emotion.
“Has anyone else taken you to dinner? You got a huge job, Bailey. Someone needs to celebrate it with you.”
My eyes lower to the table as I admit, “I don’t really have any friends around here.”
I feel stupid voicing that out loud. It sounds childish and pathetic, even to me.
“I know the feeling,” he says, and I frown. “Just because I know a lot of people who call me their friend doesn’t mean I actually have friends, Bailey. People will say whatever they want if it’ll benefit them in some way. It doesn’t have to be the truth. I have a lot of acquaintances but very few real friends.”
An insane feeling of sadness washes through me. Despite whatever’s been said about Drew, every interaction I’ve had with him has been pleasant. More than. He truly seems to be a good guy with a good heart. Not once has he said anything that’s led me to believe his thoughtfulness comes with expectations. He’s been nothing but a gentleman.
It makes me sad that he seems to feel mostly alone. How horrible it must feel to constantly be used. I know exactly how that feels.
“A long time ago, I hung with a pretty eclectic crowd,” I admit. “Some of them came from very little, and it wasn’t until much later into our ‘friendship,’” I use air quotes on the word, “that I realized they were using me for my parents’ money. They wanted access to . . . stuff I could afford, and they couldn’t.”
“They befriended you for the access?” he parrots, looking as though he knows that feeling far too well. “What happened? They left when you finally figured it out?”
I laughed but without humor. “When I realized I had to change, they left. They only wanted to be friends with me for what my money could buy.”
His eyes narrow, but thankfully, he doesn’t pry. I’m not ready to talk about my past.
Especially not tonight. Not here in this luxurious restaurant, surrounded by the New York elite. For one night, I want to feel like something other than a failure. Something more than my sister’s ward and my mother’s dirty secret.
“If you could do anything or be anyone, what would you choose?” Drew asks me, seeming truly curious.
“Honestly? I’d choose me as I am now. It took me a long time to get here, and I still have a way to go, but I think that our past helps mold our future. I’ve been through some really dark times, but I know that with this opportunity you’ve given me, all my dreams are finally at my fingertips. Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Bailey. I see potential in you, and I want to give you this chance. In the short time you’ve been employed by Silver, you’ve worked circles around the other girls. I wouldn’t trust any one of them with this project.”
I don’t have a chance to react to Drew’s words because our waiter is back, placing a plate full of mini desserts and a bottle of champagne on the table. He pours two glasses, setting one in front of me and one in front of Drew.
“Thank you,” Drew says to the man, who bows slightly and walks away.
“What’s this?” I say, smiling.
“Sorry about that.” He reaches out and moves the glass away from in front of me. “I told them it was a celebration, so they must have assumed . . . Now that I fucked that up, let’s move to the second part of the celebration,” he says, holding up his spoon. “Congratulations, Bailey. May this be the beginning of a successful career with Lawson Enterprises.”
I lift my spoon and smile even wider. “Thank you,” I say, clinking the metal utensil with his before looking down at the plate. “What do we have here?” I ask, inspecting the various confections.
There are glazed donuts with a side of what appears to be chocolate and caramel glazes, mini tarts, and a small chocolate lava cake.
I put a sampling of each on my plate and dig into the lava cake first. When my lips wrap around the spoon and taste the delicious cake, I moan around the first bite. When my eyes open, I catch Drew swallowing down something that looks a lot like desire. His eyes blaze as he’s focused on my mouth.
I stare back through my lashes, trying not to get too caught up in the moment. Everything from the candlelit room to the gorgeous man sitting across from me makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the room, and it has this evening feeling like anything but a professional work relationship.
We both enjoy the rest of the dessert in a heightened silence. I’m focused on calming down the building desire while also attempting to quiet the voices that keep going between stop lusting after your boss and go for it.
“Are you ready?” Drew’s husky voice pulls my attention back to him. “Stan has the car out front.”
“Don’t we have to pay?”
He quirks a brow. “It’s already been taken care of.”
“Oh.” It’s all I can manage. My brain feels like mush.
My body’s on fire, and my head is screaming to throw all caution out the window and act on m
y desires as he ushers me out of the restaurant with his hand on the small of my back—creating goose bumps and butterflies with that simple touch.
We reach the Town Car waiting for us outside the restaurant when I stop short. Drew must not notice because he crashes into me. His body pins my chest to the car door.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and all sanity leaves me.
I turn, finding my back against the car, body still trapped by Drew’s arms.
Our mouths are now inches apart as the energy crackles between us.
“Kiss me.” My voice is low and soft. Unsure, but desperate.
His eyes fly back and forth between mine, trying to work out if I really mean it, but seeing the look of concern coming from him is the push I need. He always puts my needs first, so now it’s my turn to take what I want, and what I want is his lips on mine. What I need is to kiss him.
Leaning up on my tiptoes, I bring my mouth to his. His lips are soft yet firm against mine. I have a moment’s hesitation when he doesn’t take things further, so I draw back, searching his face.
His eyes darken. “Fuck it,” he growls before slamming his mouth against mine, forcing my lips to part to allow his tongue entry. I moan around the expert way he massages my tongue with his. Pulling me into his chest firmly, he doesn’t relent, kissing me with abandon alongside a busy New York street for everyone to see.
I’m lost in his kiss when a horn blares behind us, and Drew pulls back to glare at the offending driver. He opens the door, and I take a seat.
“Stan, you know where to go,” he commands, lifting the partition with a click of a remote.
Not even a second later, his hands are all over me. Touching. Feeling. Caressing. My head’s thrown back, allowing him access to my neck. He trails kisses up the curve, biting my earlobe when he reaches it.
“Tell me this is okay, Bailey. I’ll stop if it’s not,” he says breathily.
“Please don’t stop,” I groan.
His hand trails up my leg, lifting the hem of my dress as he goes.
“This fucking dress,” he growls, “kills me.”
His tongue licks a line across my lower lip before his tongue is back to massaging. His fingers play at the lacy corner of my panties, and I’m about to lose it. It’s been so long since anyone has touched me, and Drew . . . well, he does it better than anyone ever has.
He removes his lips and leans his forehead against mine.
“As much as I want to take this farther, it’s not happening here in the car with Stan on the other side of that partition,” he says, blowing out a harsh breath. “I want you to think about this and make sure this is what you want.”
All the lust I was feeling moments ago evaporates at the knowledge that this isn’t happening tonight. It’s a sobering feeling to go from all in to hesitant.
“Think about it,” he says, opening the door and stepping out.
I hadn’t even realized we’d stopped.
He extends his hand to help pull me from the car. My knees are a bit shaky, so he pulls me into him, allowing me to adjust. He places a small kiss on my lips.
“You look beautiful tonight, Bailey.”
I have no words. Nothing I say at this moment would be intelligible.
He walks me to my door. “Get some rest. Think about things. I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll get your paperwork filled out.”
I nod, and he places a chaste kiss on my cheek and turns to head back to his car.
The entire process of getting ready for bed is done in a daze. I consider everything that we did and everything that was said. He’s offering me this job with or without a fling. Carter said as much. Then there’s Harper’s opinion on him. In all fairness, he has basically said the same things. I’m not sure what else he can offer me other than a fling.
Can I really do that? Is it a good idea?
No. It’s a horrible idea. But I can’t deny I want to.
A therapist would say I can’t handle the fallout. That I’d surely fall so deep into my addiction that I’d confuse lust for love like every time before. They would surely tell me I am playing with fire. They wouldn’t be wrong, but this time, I welcome the burn.
Maybe if I got it out of my system, it would make working around the man easier?
Not a chance in hell.
21
Bailey
For the whole day, I’m on edge. My lips still feel swollen from Drew’s kisses. Everything about last night feels like a dream. From the overly romantic restaurant to the way he felt pressed against my body . . . a girl could easily get caught up in the fantasy.
Drew is not my Prince Charming, though. I’m under no false hope that I’m the girl for him. Maybe I could have been. Maybe if my dad didn’t die, maybe if I didn’t turn to booze to hide the pain, maybe if the accident never happened that changed my life . . .
I push the thoughts away of how much I ruined my life and go back to how I feel about what happened with Drew. I want him. Regardless of the fact that it probably won’t go anywhere, I still want him.
This could set you back.
I push down the insecurities. I’ve already made up my mind, so there’s no sense in beating myself up over it. Whatever Drew’s offering, I’m taking. Despite everyone’s warning against it. That thought makes me think of my sister. I miss her.
Grabbing my phone, I pull up Harper’s phone number, and my finger hovers over the call button. She said she wanted time. She hasn’t reached out to me yet, which means she’s not ready to talk. I know her. She’ll send me to voicemail, and then I’ll worry about that all day. I blow out a harsh breath and decide to clean. Anything to take my mind off Drew and Harper.
When my place sparkles, I realize it’s time to get ready for work. After last night, I have the need to take a little extra care at getting ready. I’m no longer waitressing, but a skirt is completely acceptable, right?
Standing in front of the floor-length mirror, I groan. My outfit screams that I’m trying too hard, and that’s not what I’m going for. I pull out a white blouse that’s a little more professional and finally feel ready. My hands shake at my sides as nervous energy pulses through me.
It’s not just about seeing Drew again but starting this new position. There’s still so much to learn, and I’m only hoping I don’t disappoint.
I arrive at work a little after three the next day. I might have gotten a promotion, but technically, my hours haven’t changed yet.
Throwing my bag under the bar, I go in search of Drew, but when I turn the corner, he’s there. And staring right through me. It’s unnerving. He’s leaning against the banister above me, running his hand slowly over the railing. His gaze penetrates me. It lights me on fire yet again.
I spent the entire night thinking up every reason I should avoid this attraction like the plague. There were a million good reasons, but none good enough to stop the inevitability that I would have him. Even if only for a short time.
Hot lust radiates off me. He looks primal, and I burn for him. I turn away to hide my feelings. He doesn’t need to know how badly I want him. I’m mortified at the thought of him knowing. But as much as I try, I can’t stop the assault of sexual thoughts. I imagine what his hands would feel like running up my body, how they would feel pushing me forward and teasing my skin. My body aches to be touched. I need to calm down and get myself in check. Working with him here in this empty bar will be torturous or dangerous, depending on my actions.
I feel a presence behind me, and my breath catches in my chest. I attempt to mask my want. “Turn around,” he commands.
I obey, saying, “I’ve made up my mind.”
“Is that so?” He grins.
He steps forward, caging me in. I’m in so much trouble. I’m nearly panting with need, and he can see it. It’s all over my face. He’s so close I can feel his breath. I don’t know what to say, so I go with the one thing that might stop this madness. “My sister warned me about you.”
He doesn’t flinc
h. “I don’t care what your sister said,” he says in a low, husky voice. “What did you decide?”
I answer the only way I know how. Grabbing him, I slam my body into his, and all thoughts about stopping this are gone.
22
Drew
God, this woman . . .
She’s maddening. She literally attacked me, and I roll with it. I tried to fight this attraction for so long, but now that I had a taste, I can’t resist her anymore. Her sudden urgency only serves to make me happy with my decision not to try to stop this from happening. Now with that settled, all I want to do is fuck her right here in the middle of the club.
And I will have her today. There is no doubt about that.
I push her back into the bar, effectively pinning her. She’s not getting away. She’s like a cornered cat. I don’t know if she’ll succumb to the pleasure of being stroked or claw my eyes out to escape. She can do her worst. I like it rough.
I lift her by her hips and place her onto the bar. Her skirt rides up, giving me an up close and personal view of her black thong. Her breath comes in short pants, her desire only serving to fuel mine.
“This is your last opportunity to stop this.” I nearly growl.
“I’m done trying to stop it, Drew.”
This isn’t where I want this to happen, but I’ve lost my mind where Bailey’s concerned. I’m not thinking about anything but having some piece of her. Before I talk myself out of it, I act.
With one quick tug, I tear her underwear. One more yank, and they are off. Without fanfare, I dip my head to run my nose up the inside of her leg, nipping as I go. She lets out a whimper as my head meets the juncture of her hip. My eyes meet hers, silently asking for permission. Wrapping her legs around my head, she answers. I’m ravenous for her.
My tongue swipes up, and she bucks under me. Inserting one finger and then another, I pump in and out, which isn’t necessary as Bailey is more than ready for me. She pants and mewls, begging for more. I oblige, continuing to lap at her. Her back arches off the bar, and I feel her quiver, signaling her orgasm is near. I want to get her there. I need to.