“Don’t be an asshole. You can’t drop this much shit in my lap all at once and expect me to solve your problem instantly. Give me a minute.”
He had a point.
“All right. What do you know about Nathan Marcello?”
“Only what a few clients have told me, after they’ve borrowed money from him. The bastard is relentless and has no problems hurting someone’s family or friends to get it.”
“Shit. That’s what I thought.” For a moment I wanted to hurl my phone across the room, but that would only end up pissing me off more when I had to get a new one.
“Not that I want to see anyone hurt, but why do you even care? You’re normally the love ’em and leave ’em type.”
That was the one question I’d been asking myself since I walked in and saw that bastard grabbing her ass earlier. She wasn’t mine to worry about, but I couldn’t stop myself from doing it, and the simple thought of Marcello or his men anywhere near her trying to hurt her for Ray’s debt made blood pound through my ears.
“I can’t explain.”
The asshole burst out laughing.
“What the hell is so funny?”
“You. You’re confused and tongue-tied over a woman. For years I’ve been watching women behave that way in front of you. Damn if the tables haven’t turned.”
“That’s ridiculous. I only want to help her out of a bad situation.”
He scoffed. “And when was the last time you wanted to help anyone out of a bad situation?”
“Why is that so surprising?” I snapped. “You did it for Elena.”
“Yeah, but I’m not you or Dad. Admit it, the two of you can be absolutely ruthless when it comes to getting your own way. The only time you worry about someone else is if they’re family.”
“Bullshit.”
“No, truth. Unless you consider them family, you don’t give two shits. You like pretty things on your arm, not messy relationships that get in the way. You’re more like Dad then you want to admit. Keep in mind how he and Mom met.”
I slammed my fist against the desk. “Enough.”
Every word he spoke was closer to the truth than I wanted to admit. I was like my dad, but that didn’t give Ashton the right to question my motives. Maybe it pissed me off that he was right, or maybe I was less tolerant because I was so fucking busy I couldn’t see which way was up. Either way, I wasn’t listening to it anymore. My shoulders tensed beneath the fabric of my suit jacket, the desire to hit something overwhelming.
“Holy fuck. The why doesn’t matter. I’m going to see what I can find out about Wasden’s debt.”
“You’ll figure it out, eventually. Until then, I’ll drop it. I’ll see if I can dig anything else up.”
His offer to help went a little way to cool my temper. My muscles began to loosen.
“Let me know what you find out.”
“I will. And when you calm down, think about what I said.”
I already had and wasn’t interested. I’d deal with it later. Right then, I needed his help to keep Tess safe, especially since she was being stubborn as shit about me getting her a place. I decided to ignore his statement.
“Thanks, Ashton.”
My brother had always been there for me. We might see things differently, but that didn’t change the fact I was grateful for any help he could give me.
“You’re welcome.”
We hung up and I looked at the massive stack of paperwork on my desk, all of it forgotten with the revelations of the last hour.
Tess.
What was I going to do about her?
I remembered the look on her face when she challenged me; when she thought Marcello might get her. Then I thought about our night together. Thought about my hands on her, her body under mine. Then I thought about her being out there with every dickhead customer staring at her ass . . .
I grabbed the glass off my desk and hurled it across the room. The sound of it shattering was soothing. Never in my life had I been so twisted up over a woman. And according to her, I had no say in her life or how to keep her safe. She was right, I didn’t want a relationship. All I wanted was to help her out of the mess she was in.
Forgoing the paperwork, I picked up my phone.
Me: Meet me at Rock Bottom.
Dean: Give me 15 minutes.
My first instinct was to text back that he had five minutes, but that was ridiculous considering I had no idea where he was. I forced myself to focus on the work I’d come down to get done but had a hard time concentrating, thoughts of Tess’s sexy ass and all of the ways I wanted to use it keeping me distracted. Not too long after my text there was a knock on the door.
“Come in.” I was aggravated with myself for letting a little pussy distract me from what I needed to get done so my tone was harsher than necessary.
Dean poked his head in the door. “Everything all right?”
“I have something I need you to do.”
As the door shut behind him, he threw a thumb over his shoulder and asked, “The brunette shaking her ass behind the bar. Isn’t that the one you won off Ray Wasden a few weeks ago?”
I jumped up and moved around the desk in a blur. Dean might be bigger than me, but we both knew who was tougher. “Enough. Count yourself lucky I think enough of you to answer your asinine question and not shove those words back down your throat. Yes, it’s her, but I don’t want to hear another word. Is that clear?”
Dean took a cautionary step back. “What can I do for you?”
He’d always been good at judging my moods and changing the subject was sometimes the fastest way to calm me down. He had no idea this time it would only fire me up more.
I backed up and leaned against my desk. “Ray Wasden owes money to Nathan Marcello.”
“Of course the dumbass would borrow from that asshole and not your brother. He can kiss his life good-bye if he doesn’t have the money to pay him back.”
“You know the little shit doesn’t have the money. Same reason he bet his girlfriend. Bastard doesn’t get it.”
“Okay, so what do we care if he owes Marcello money? Let him deal with the problem.”
“We wouldn’t except Marcello’s men showed up at Tess’s place the other night, looking for Wasden.”
“Damn.” Dean ran a hand through his hair and dropped down into one of the chairs. “I’m guessing the chick from the other night is Tess.”
“Yeah and I don’t want her mixed up in Wasden’s bullshit. She already moved out of her old apartment. Now she’s working here, I can keep an eye on her.”
Dean narrowed his eyes. “Am I missing something here?”
“What the hell is wrong with everyone?” I growled, crossing my arms over my chest. “Why is it so surprising that I want to help her?”
He sat back in his seat, his eyes darting around the room before stopping to focus on something to the left of me. “Well, you never seem to give a shit about a woman beyond the time it takes to get her naked and for you to get off, so you’ll excuse my interest now you’re all intent on saving her ass.”
My eyes flashed at his words and he held up his hands, reining himself in. I raked a hand down my face. First Ashton, now Dean. Was that how they all really saw me? “Does everyone think that I’m a complete asshole who only thinks with his dick?”
He shrugged, noncommittally. “When it comes to business, hell no. You always have it together. But when it comes to women, you’re more the ‘give me a quick ride’ kind of guy than a knight in shining armor.”
“So just because I don’t want to be tied down by one woman I’m supposed to keep my dick in my pants and jerk off in the shower?”
“No, man. But you sure as shit flaunt every piece of ass you take home . . . until her.”
I’d had enough of this conversation. “Fuck this. Find out what you can about Wasden’s debts. I want to know how much he owes, and to who.”
I flipped on the computer and turned my attention there, clearly dismissing hi
m and the whole fucked up conversation, although I had a feeling getting anything done with Tess’s half naked self only about fifty feet away was going to be harder than I thought. Dean took the hint and I heard the door click behind him.
Apparently everyone was out of their fucking minds, but I had too much work to do to deal with all of it. The dealership needed to be run and I had no intention of making Dad question whether or not I was fit to take over. It was time to get my head back in the game. Pushing everything out of my head, I got down to business.
Or at least I thought I did.
CHAPTER 12
Miller
One week.
Seven fucking days.
And every moment of those days spent with an aching dick. The first two days I tried to get my shit together; at least, until memories of Tess and her “just fucked” look came rushing to the surface at the most inopportune times. It seemed like there were very few moments I accomplished anything productive. By day three Dad called and ripped me a new asshole. Apparently in all of my fantasizing I’d forgotten to handle a transfer for one of our best clients. A mistake like that could have cost business and our reputation.
After that fiasco I stopped going to Rock Bottom to work, figuring I could push Tess out of mind that way. Out of sight, out of mind.
I spent all of my time at either the dealership or the club, but that still didn’t stop my mind from imagining all the ways I could get that uniform off Tess and have her bent over my desk; the chance to sink my dick into her warm pussy again became more and more tempting.
Annoyed as fuck by the fourth day, I decided to screw her out of my head. Women lined up when I wanted an easy piece of ass. Most of them didn’t need to be wined and dined, either. They stripped and spread themselves out on my bed.
That night, I decided to head out to the club. Convincing a woman to go home with you was so much easier when you were surrounded by evidence of your success. I checked on the games in the back before I took a seat in the VIP area. It was the perfect place to sit and watch the women as they walked in and headed straight for the bar.
And there were women everywhere. The choices seemed endless, yet not one of them had me racing down the stairs to get to her.
One woman stood out a little more than the rest. For one night, she’d do. Determined, I stood and walked up to the sexy-as-hell brunette. She had legs that went on for days—legs I couldn’t wait to see wrapped around my waist.
“Hello,” I whispered next to her ear.
Startled, she jumped a bit then moved her head to look over her shoulder. “Excuse—” Her eyes widened and she swallowed hard. “You’re Miller Hawes.”
“Yes, I am.”
I let my eyes wander down her body. She would more than do. Her long hair fell in waves down her back—so similar to Tess, I had to push it from my mind. She was a payment for a debt. Nothing more.
“What brought you down to the bar?” Her eyes devoured every move I made. “I’d imagine you have waiters to get your drinks up there.” She gestured toward the top of the stairs. Apparently, she’d been watching me as well.
“I do. But I came down for a different reason.”
“Oh, and that is?”
“You.” Her eyes darkened, a sensual haze beginning to burn in their depths. “What’s your name?”
“Gina.”
“I like it. Gina, would you like to come back upstairs with me?”
She glanced around at a group of women behind her. Some were staring, their mouths hanging open, while others nodded their heads enthusiastically.
“I’d love to.”
I nodded to the bartender to get his attention and made it clear he should wipe out her tab. After she said good-bye to her friends, I led her back up the stairs and got her to relax on the couch.
I’d learned a long time ago that a woman was more likely to go home with you if you made a small effort to get to know her. You didn’t really have to care, just give off the appearance that you did. According to one woman, as she stormed from my house, it made women feel less cheap for going home with a man they just met when you knew something about them. She went on to scream and yell in the street that I’d made her feel just like that.
When I had a pretty good feeling that Gina would come home with me if asked, I placed my drink on the table and put on my most charming smile and invited her back to my place.
The minute we stepped through the door, I led her to the sunken living room and the sofa closest to the recessed bar. Instantly the night with Tess came rushing to the front of my mind.
It was obvious from the way Gina had carried herself, that she’d had enough to drink at the bar. Yet none of that stopped me from getting her another. The warning bells should have rung loud and clear in my head.
They didn’t.
Everything was as it should be. Halfway through her glass, I placed it on the table and cupped her face in my hands. I took her lips, molding mine to hers. The taste of grape lingered there, its taste familiar and sharp. Deeper and deeper the kiss became. My dick hardened instantly. I remembered the feel of her wrapped around me and couldn’t wait to be there again.
Or I thought I did.
I broke the kiss and trailed my lips down her jaw to her neck. In the heat of the moment, I nipped at the soft skin there and whispered, “God, you’re so sexy, Tess.”
She shoved me away. “Who the fuck is Tess?”
“No one important.” I said, reaching for her, hoping we could pick up where we left off. In reality, I knew there was no way that was happening. I’d fucked up.
“Apparently, neither am I.” She scooped up her stuff and headed for the door.
Never in my life had a woman stormed from my home so fast—not even when I’d thrown them out after sex. Usually they begged me to let them stay. This time she was out my door without a glance back.
I tried to convince myself that while it had never been a problem before, having two women with the same hair color, one right after the other, had become an issue.
Always one to learn from my mistakes, the next night I decided on a blonde. No possible resemblance to the object of my unwanted obsession.
And still I managed to fuck it up.
Since she didn’t look like Tess, my unneeded subconscious decide to come out to play, comparing every move she made Tess. The way her hands wrapped around my dick, or how her tongue plunged into my mouth.
Every moved felt forced. I didn’t want to fuck her, but I was determined to prove to myself—well, to my dick—that my need for Tess was ridiculous. So I did it. I fucked her. But not one part of me felt satisfied.
It felt wrong. I sent her packing, just like a did to every other woman who I had between my sheets. Every other woman besides Tess.
Whatever caused it, I was determined to work it out of my system. I went out again the next night and watched another blonde, but didn’t bother bringing anyone home. Not one of them got me hard. Enough was enough. Getting her out of my system by sleeping with other women hadn’t worked.
After knocking back at least a quarter of a bottle of scotch, I realized the only way I was going to purge the woman from my system was to fuck her until I’d had enough. Only then would things be able to go back to the way they had been before.
And all of that led me back to Rock Bottom.
I sat in the office, adjusting myself every so often. It was the first time I’d been hard in days. And I was hard—painfully so.
Tess happened to be there when I arrived. Her ass perfect in the little black shorts. All day I’d tried to figure out the best way to convince her that my idea was the perfect solution. My eyes snapped up at the heavy pounding on my door.
“Miller, get out here.”
It was Tess. What I wanted couldn’t be that easy, surely? Or perhaps the universe had decided it had had enough of using me as a fucktoy and it was complying with my master plan.
“Come in.”
Tess opened the door and
her pinched expression made it more than clear that any hope I had of getting her in my bed tonight was gone. The glint in her eye told me it was more likely she’d be ripping my balls off, instead of sucking them between her lips.
Fuck.
What the hell did I do to deserve all this bullshit?
CHAPTER 13
Theresa
Derek nodded at one of my tables behind me where two couples had taken seats, waiting for service. I walked over and offered them a menu and took their drink order. Normally, I’d rather it be a table full of guys. That meant bigger tips. Today, with Miller in the building, the two women sitting at the table were my safety net.
For the first few days after my fight with Miller, he’d been at the bar, working in his office. Every once in a while I caught him watching me. Then came a suspicious pattern. If a guy’s eyes lingered too long or their fingers got too close, I noticed they’d finish their drink and make a hasty retreat not too long afterward.
Miller.
At first it pissed me off because even though each one left a pretty good tip, I had to wonder what they might have left had they stayed to drink some more. The asshole thought he had a right to control the people at my tables. By the third day, I noticed that only couples were seated at my tables. It frustrated the hell out of me, but I was still making more money than I had been at the boutique, and causing an argument might jeopardize that. I was far more concerned with losing the job than arguing with Miller over minor details.
Miller had been absent for a while and I’d settled into a comfortable routine. That was until he walked in this morning. Like every other time I was drawn to him, even when I reminded myself that he was an egomaniac who wanted to control my life, which was none of his business.
I wondered if Miller’s constant hovering would return. Up to now, no one paid attention to anything said to me by the customers and as long as they tipped well, I ignored it, too.
Now I worried about staying on my toes with the customers and giving Miller less of a reason to run them off. Why he would damage his own business was beyond me.
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