Arrogant

by Drea Blackery

  She obeyed.

  “Put your legs together.”

  She did so, closing her thighs the way I wanted.

  Then I took her hips, and in a single surge I thrust between them, hard plunging through soft.

  We groaned in unison, and I withdrew and thrust again, pretending I was fucking her from the back. Allie’s thighs were hot and wet from her arousal, and my cock glided all the way through, rubbing against her swollen lips and clit.

  “Yes,” she gasped, her head hanging low between her outstretched arms. “More. More.”

  Her loud moans bounced off the glass walls, filling my ears with her throaty voice. I reached around her and played with her breasts with both hands now, feeling them bounce with the impact from every forceful thrust.

  It was hands down the hottest thing I'd ever done with a woman, and I hadn't even fucked her yet.

  Allie's muscles spasmed around my cock as I kept thrusting between her thighs. “Yes, Ryland, ohh…”

  She was close. So was I.

  “That's it, baby.” My voice was ragged, dark with triumph. “That's it.”

  “I'm coming…”

  I wrapped my hand around her hair and pulled, arching her back against me as I slammed three fingers into her pussy, filling her completely.

  Allie screamed as she tightened around my fingers. “Yes, yes!”

  I thrust them deep into her as she climaxed, coming all over my hand.

  “Fuck!” I ground my cock against her ass, the sheer pleasure of it nearly blinding me. Only when she had come down from her orgasm did I let myself go, spurting my cum between her thighs, over her ass cheeks, lashing her with thick, hot ropes.

  We held each other for long minutes after that, our harsh breathing loud in the sudden silence of the greenhouse.

  I'd never had a problem with after-sex exhaustion, but this time it hit me like a sack of bricks. Allie looked as tired as I felt as she rested heavily against me, waiting for her breathing to return to normal.

  “Before I forget,” I leaned back on the wall and pulled her to my chest, “if a guy ever tells you he's clean, don't take it at face value.”

  “I don't.” Her voice was muffled against me. “You're the only person who ever came that close.”

  My brows drew together.

  I knew Allie had let her guards down with me, but I hadn't realized she'd trusted me that much.

  It wasn't a good sign and I should have been worried, but damn if it didn't make me feel as if I'd earned some prize.

  Allie was silent, her fingers already starting to twitch at my waist.

  “Let's get you cleaned,” I said. “I'll take you to one of the spare rooms.”

  “It's fine. I'll clean up in one of the washrooms outside.” Her eyes darted away, looking at her discarded dress doubtfully.

  I knew what she was thinking.

  Cum on her ass? Hot.

  Cum on her dress? Not so much.

  I unbuttoned my shirt and gestured for her to turn around.

  Her eyes widened as she complied. “What are you going to wear?”

  “I'll head downstairs to Cam's place and get a spare.” I took my shirt off and wiped down all traces of my cum, but not before I took a good look at it covering her ass.

  Like I'd said.

  Hot.

  All too soon Allie wriggled out of my arms and put on her dress again. I watched regretfully as her hips disappeared behind the fabric, followed by her waist and then her breasts. She tried patting down her hair, though it didn’t help much. I'd thoroughly messed it up when I'd tangled my hand into the heavy locks.

  Allie refused to meet my eyes as she hunted for her clutch, scooping it up from where it had fallen beside a potted tree.

  “Regretting?” I asked after a moment.

  She shook my head wordlessly, those fingers fidgeting again.

  “Come here,” I murmured.

  She returned to my arms again, and I leaned my forehead against hers, our breaths mingling.

  “What are you thinking?”

  Allie licked her swollen lips, gazing up at me with a vulnerable expression. “Ryland. I…”

  Shit.

  I knew that look.

  “If it's what I think it is, then don't say it.”

  As usual, Allie ignored me.

  “I think I like you,” she said, looking directly at me, looking braver than anyone I’d ever seen. “And it’s not because we messed around. We—”

  “There is no we,” I said, more sharply than I intended.

  “How do you know?” she challenged. “You haven’t tried.”

  Shit.

  “Are you getting attached, Allie?” I growled. “I told you not to get your feelings involved—”

  “I'm not asking you to be with me, I'm just saying that maybe—”

  “There's no maybe either.” I eased her away to look into her eyes. “Don't you get it yet? I can't be with you. Not now, not ever.”

  Allie stared back at me with hurt in her stormy grey eyes, and for the first time in my life, I tasted what it was like to truly have something out of my reach.

  But why the fuck did it have to be her?

  “I can't,” I repeated, feeling like utter shit.

  Just like that, I had gone from the highest high to the lowest low.

  Damn me for putting us into this position, and damn me for thinking I could handle this, handle her.

  “You can't?” Allie suddenly asked. “Or you don't want to?”

  My brows drew together. “Are you gonna read into every word I say? Fine. I don’t want to.”

  As I grew more pissed, Allie's expression became calmer, which made me even angrier.

  How did this get so out of hand?

  I was always in control, always, but recently all it took was a few words from Allie to completely demolish me.

  “I don't believe you,” she said simply.

  “Take it or leave it, Allie cat,” I snapped. “This thing between us, whatever you think it is? It's lust, nothing more. And get this: Lust. Fades. You don't want to be anywhere around me when I get tired of you.”

  A long silence passed between us, and I held my breath as I waited for Allie’s reply.

  “Okay,” she finally said.

  I nodded once.

  That was the answer I wanted from her, so why was I feeling even shittier now?

  “I guess we're back to where we started,” she continued, busily arranging her dress.

  I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. I didn’t like that sound of that.

  “What are you saying, Allie cat?”

  She shrugged. “Since we're both unattached and uncommitted, I figured we're free to see whoever we want. And thanks for the trial earlier,” she added. “It was fun and I'd give it five stars, but I think there's always room for improvement for everything. So, four stars, but would not repurchase.”

  My brows snapped together. “You—”

  “Have a nice weekend, Ryland. I know I will.”

  With that, Allie smiled and swept out of the greenhouse, leaving me staring at her in disbelief.

  After I had vacuumed my bedroom for the second time that day, I set aside the Hoover and fell back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

  The suites provided daily room service, but I'd needed something to occupy me. While the apartment was mostly spotless, it was also so huge that it had taken me the entire day to cover it. I had never been more grateful to wash the dishes.

  But now, there was nothing left for me to do.

  Nothing to keep my mind from obsessing over Ryland freaking Wyatt and how I'd made a fool of myself.

  Again.

  Groaning, I pulled a pillow over my face. What the hell had I been thinking?

  No, strike that.

  I hadn't been thinking, that was the only explanation for how far I'd allowed myself to go with him.

  My years of carefully erected walls, demolished just like that by a cocky asshole's smirk—a
nd his fingers.

  Even now I was growing wet just thinking about how he'd pleasured me so hard I'd nearly blacked out.

  God, I was so pathetic.

  I groaned again, shoving the pillow harder into my face. Maybe if I used enough strength, I could smother myself.

  The one debatable silver lining was that I had gotten the last word in. Ryland's incredulous expression as I left the greenhouse had been priceless.

  What, did he expect me to stay pining for him while he was free to see other women?

  Jerk.

  I was an idiot to think that anything was different just because of a few conversations and a kiss.

  It shouldn’t even matter that he’d upped his donations. That kind of money was spare change to him anyway, a drop in an ocean of immeasurable wealth. It didn't mean anything to him, and so it wouldn't mean anything to me either.

  “Are you dead?” Karin's voice floated into my bedroom.

  “No.” My voice was muffled against the pillow. “But I wish I was.”

  “Why?” Sounds of rummaging came from the dresser. “Did something happen with Ryland?”

  I sat up so fast that the pillow tumbled off my face and onto the floor. “Why would you say that?”

  “You clean the place whenever you break up, like with Brandon last year. And since the only guy you're spending time with now is Ryland…” Karin shrugged a shoulder and continued her search amongst my makeup. “Love does strange things to you.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “His name was Bronn, and we broke up over two years ago. And I wasn't in love with him. Or Ryland,” I added quickly.

  “But you did clean this apartment twice over,” Karin pointed out, “so you have to like Ryland at least two times as much as you liked Bronn.”

  “I'll never get your logic,” I muttered.

  “So, do you?”

  “Do I what?”

  “Like Ryland.”

  “No,” I said emphatically. Then I paused. “Maybe? Oh, I don’t know!”

  “Come on, spill.”

  I groaned as I fell back on the bed. “The two of us are from completely different worlds. And you know I don't do hook-ups. I can't, physically and emotionally, but that's all he has to offer.”

  My sister's eyes widened. “You talked about it already?”

  “Yeah,” I said sullenly. “Guess how that turned out.”

  Ryland Wyatt, in a relationship. Ha.

  I would have better luck waiting for the Atlantic to freeze over.

  “It's his loss,” Karin said, resuming her search amongst my things, “and when he sees you again in the future with someone else, he will regret not snapping you up when he could.”

  “The opposite will happen first since he's the famous one,” I muttered. Then I frowned. “What are you looking for?”

  “Your body mist, the lemon-flavoured one. I want to wear it to the club tonight.”

  “Second drawer on the left. And I thought you hated lemons. You said it made you look more like an orange.”

  “I still hate it, but it seems to be more effective than my vanilla one.” Karin located the glass bottle with a triumphant Aha!

  My eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Effective in what way, exactly?”

  “Seduction.”

  I choked. “What?”

  Karin arched an eyebrow at me. “You came home last night looking like you were mauled, and you have a hickey on your left shoulder.” She pointed a waggling finger. “It's at the back. Betcha didn't know that.”

  I slapped a hand over the spot. “Nothing happened between us!”

  “Uh-huh,” Karin said dryly. “Anyway, I'm hoping this will do the trick for me. My dry spell has been going on way too long.”

  I totally didn't need to know that.

  Karin got busy with marinating herself in lemon mist. “Hey, maybe you should come with me and the girls. You know what they say, the best way to get over a hot guy is to make out with other hot guys—”

  “No one needs to get over anyone, K.”

  “—and we're headed to Club Palais, so you know there'll be plenty for you to choose from.”

  I blinked. “Did you say Club Palais?”

  “Yeah, the one owned by—”

  “—the Brazilian Heir,” I finished with a frown.

  Marlon da Silva was the son of land mogul Hugo da Silva, who was to Rio de Janeiro what Thomas Wyatt Jr. was to Manhattan. That made Marlon Ryland's equal where status and power were concerned.

  And how did I know that?

  Because Ryland was also headed to the very same club tonight for a meeting with him.

  I fiddled with the covers on the bed guiltily, already knowing what my answer would be.

  “When do we leave?”

  It was nearly midnight by the time our taxi pulled up to the sidewalk outside Club Palais. Thumping bass music drifted out from within, and a queue of partygoers snaked from next block all the way up to the entrance manned by four huge bouncers.

  “The girls are already inside,” Karin told me as we joined the back of the queue. “They're getting beers and shots for us.”

  We got admission shortly, and the pounding music grew louder as we made our way through a short, darkened hallway. By the time we got to the atrium, the bass was so loud that it reverberated in my bones and teeth. The place was filled to the beams with partiers dancing to the latest Calvin Harris hit, and I was blasted by a wave of body heat as we pushed through the crowd.

  My gaze darted to the glass grand staircase that led upstairs to private rooms overlooking the club.

  That must be where Ryland would be later.

  “I see them!” Karin screeched, grabbing my hand and dragging me towards the crowd on the dance floor.

  Her half a dozen girlfriends screamed when they saw us, and after a round of drunken hugs, a bottle of ice-cold beer was thrust into my hands.

  My sister grabbed my arms, forcibly waving them in the air and spilling some beer in the process.

  “Dance!” she hollered.

  I looked around one more time, but I didn't spot Ryland.

  Then again, I wasn't here for him.

  Not at all.

  Forcing a smile to my face, I took a swig of beer and tried to lose myself in the music.

  ***

  I was in the shittiest mood.

  Cam and I had spent the entire evening at the private VIP room in Club Palais with our lawyers, going through a thousand ways to counter Estelle.

  And the conclusion?

  Nothing.

  We had nothing that would ensure a hundred percent win on our end, only advice to compromise or reach a settlement outside of court.

  I didn't want to compromise.

  I didn't want to reach a settlement.

  I wanted that bitch behind bars, but apparently, even the top lawyers in the country had trouble making that happen.

  And the fact that Allie had ditched me half-naked in a greenhouse last night didn't help my mood either.

  Standing by the railings that overlooked the club, I surveyed the scene before me.

  In the two years since Wyatt Corp and da Silva Realty had partnered to develop the nightclub, Club Palais had flourished under Marlon da Silva's management to become one of the most highly-raved luxe clubs in Manhattan. And as much as the Brazilian heir bugged the hell out of me, I couldn't deny that he knew what he was doing.

  That, and the fact that I had free use of his VIP rooms whenever I wanted, free booze included, was the only reason why we were still allies and occasionally friends.

  I took a drink from my glass, blindly watching the partying crowd.

  It was just past one in the morning, which meant it was almost time for my meeting with Marlon.

  It was also the worst possible time to be drinking. Going toe-to-toe with him could get damned exhausting, and I needed all my wits about me.

  On the other hand, I needed the drink.

  Because no matter how I tried, I couldn't get
Allie Beckett’s face out of my head.

  Or the throaty way she had moaned last night.

  Or the feel her hot, tight pussy riding my fingers, squeezing me as she came.

  I knew a sexual encounter with her would be hot, but I hadn't expected to come so close to creaming my pants like a teenage boy.

  Case in point, my cock was already growing hard.

  Thank fuck it was dark in the club.

  “That your fifth glass?” Cam suddenly asked beside me.

  I frowned. “Third. Why?”

  “Because you look like shit.” He tossed back his drink.

  I raised my eyes to the ceiling.

  People who knew us both sometimes said that Cam and I shared similar traits, and that was bullshit. I didn't have the temperament of a hungry polar bear, and I didn't feel the constant need to piss on everything to mark my territory.

  But Cam had proven to be a stand-up guy and loyal friend over the years, and any disagreements we had were usually smoothed over without issue on both sides.

  Keyword: usually.

  “Any updates on the favor I asked from you?”

  “You ask a hell lot of favors from me.” Cam handed his empty glass to a passing waiter. “But if you mean pressing Finnigan for payment last night, then yeah, it went like you predicted. Poor bastard was ready to piss his pants by the time I was through with him.”

  “And?”

  “And so you should get that contract ready.” Cam shrugged his massive shoulders. “It's not every day a Lancaster threatens you with a multi-million dollar debt. I’m guessing that he'll receive your purchase offer on his knees, with both hands, like it's a royal decree.”

  I nodded in satisfaction and tipped my glass in thanks. “Owe you one.”

  “And I'll be cashing in real soon.” Cam grinned. “Don't worry, it's nothing you can't handle.”

  “You have your eye on a property for a new hotel,” I said dryly. “It's not that hard to figure, asshole, you've got a one-track mind.”

  “At least one of us does. How's it going with your new PA?”

  “You mean the one you were supposed to pick up but pushed to Gabriel instead?”

  “Something cropped up. And come on, have some trust in Gabe.”

  “The only thing I trust him to do is hit on her,” I said curtly.

  “Gabriel hits on anything with two legs and a pussy. It's not personal.”