by J. L. Beck
Her disgust as she looks me up and down is obvious. I feel sick, and as she walks away from my desk the last thing I can think about doing is work.
Instead my eyes turn to Reed’s office door. It’s still closed, with him and Ryker inside.
Why? I don’t know, but I’ve got a bad, bad feeling, especially after the punch Reed threw in the conference room. I sink into my office chair, my hands shaking, and my body a complete pile of mush, all because one man owns me inside and out.
I sigh, my body betraying me as I think back to the way he made me feel just moments ago, and I know we said rule one was never to fall in love, but I think I’m already falling.
Helplessly falling for my best friend.
Generally I’m not one for drinking, but it’s either drink or spill my guts to Fallon and I can’t do that. Instead, I drown my woes in an expensive as fuck bottle of whiskey down the block from my house with one of my close buddies.
“You’re shittin’ me, right? Your dad is making you knock some chick up so you can inherit your family’s company?” I nod, tipping my glass back. The whiskey warms my insides, dissolving the cold inside my chest. Telling Grant what happened with Dad makes me feel better, like maybe someone else fucking gets how stressed out I am.
Smiling, I set the empty glass down on the bar and gesture for the bartender to bring me another. “I am not shitting you. You’ll never guess who I found to be the proud mama.” Grant looks at me like I’ve grown a second head, and I want to laugh because his expression is hilarious.
“I swear to fucking God. If it’s Tiffany, I’m cutting your fucking balls off and buying the company myself.” Laughter spills from my mouth, and I’m glad I came out with this fucker tonight.
Exhaling a ragged breath, I ready myself for what I’m about to say. “No. I asked Fallon to do it.” Silence settles over our corner of the bar and Grant stares at me for a moment, long enough that it makes me uncomfortable.
“For fucks sake, would you say something?” I swirl the fresh whiskey in my glass before lifting my eyes up to meet his.
“What do you want me to say? I mean, she’s the female version of me.” Grant seems shocked, and not in a good way. I understand the feeling. I wasn’t sure it was a good idea either, but it quickly grew on me.
I shrug. “Yeah, and? It’s won’t change anything between us,” I lie, even though it already has. I leave that part out because what Grant doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
He tips his head back and laughs. “That’s the biggest fucking lie I’ve ever heard you say, and I’ve heard a lot of ‘em.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes at his comment. He knows all there is to know about me, and he knows I’ve wanted Fallon for as long as I can remember. “We came up with an agreement, something to make us both happy…” I trail off, my thoughts turning to what happened the night we made our arrangement, and quickly shut them down. Thinking about her is not what I should be doing right now.
“You’ve loved her since you were kids. Now you’re going to have a baby with her and you think you’ll be able to go back to being friends after?”
Okay, so hearing him say it like that makes it sound like the odds of this going smoothly are slim to none, but we can’t go back on our agreement now.
“You do realize you’re setting yourselves up for failure, right?”
This isn’t what I want to hear. I thought telling Grant would help cement the feeling that what I’m doing is right. Fallon is the best option I have to give my dad what he wants. She’s the only woman I know who won’t turn psycho and start demanding things I’m not willing to give. There’s no going back, especially not now. I won’t be able to forget the way she tastes, and I need to know how she feels. “Well, I can’t change it now.”
Grant stares at me, waiting on bated breath for me to tell him what the fuck I’ve done. “We’ve…done things,” I say, thinking about the way Fallon’s body reacted to my touch. No woman has ever made me feel the way she does, and it’s terrifying.
“Jesus, you didn’t waste any time, huh?” He laughs, and it loosens me up a little. “What are you going to do if it doesn’t work out?”
I shake my head, releasing a ragged breath at the possibility. “Honestly? I don’t know. We have a few rules in place. If either of us starts to feel more, the agreement is over.”
“I feel like you didn’t think this through before deciding to do it. You can’t just quit the arrangement. You’re bringing a baby into it, and that’s a lifetime agreement.” Grant admonishes me before reaching for the bottle and pouring himself another glass of whiskey.
I can’t help but grin at the difference between us. I’m not a heavy drinker, but when I do drink, it’s by the glass. Grant? He walks in and orders a whole fucking bottle. I don’t know how he’s able to walk out without assistance, but he never acts drunk.
It’s hard to explain without sounding like an ass. “That’s probably true. In fact, it was her idea to begin with. How could I say no to that?” He looks at me like he doesn’t believe me, so I try to play it off like she’s nothing more than a good fuck. “Would you turn down a guaranteed good fuck?” Acting like that’s all it is makes me feel guilty. Fallon’s worth so much more than a fuck. She’s wife and mom material, the girl you bring home to meet your parents. She’s the kind of woman you share your entire life with.
“You’re a terrible liar. We both know Fallon would never be just a good fuck.” I drink more whiskey, my insides buzzing and my thoughts muddling. It’s been a long time since I drank this much.
“Do you think I made a mistake?” Regret drips from my words.
Grant stares at me for a long time, analyzing me. That’s why he’s a lawyer and I’m not. “No. You didn’t make a mistake. If anything, you took the first step in the right direction. The problem you’re going to run into now is what happens if you fall for her, or worse, she falls for you.” That’s a loaded question if I ever heard one and causes me to take another gulp from my glass. I can’t answer his question because I don’t know what the fuck’s going to happen if she falls for me.
Me falling for her isn’t a problem since I’m already there. I love her, there’s no way around it, but if I can stop her from falling in love with me then maybe, just maybe, I can save both of us from heartache. “Commitment isn’t my thing, so if she doesn’t fall in love with me everything will be okay.”
Grant calls the waitress over; his voice is pitched so low I can’t hear what he’s ordering. He turns back toward me. “You can’t say commitments aren’t your thing Reed, not when you’ve committed yourself to dealing with her for the next eighteen years and then some.” The waitress comes back with two shots and we down them. The contents taste like straight gasoline.
The drink burns going down my throat, and my eyes water. “If she falls for me, we’re both screwed. I won’t be able to deny myself what I want and…” I trail off.
Grant finishes the sentence for me. “And you’re scared the fuck out of what that means.” I smirk into my empty shot glass because he gets me. He is the male version of Fallon.
The alcohol destroys any filter I have, and I find myself telling him everything that happened between us since the night we made our arrangement, finishing with what happened today. “I fingered her and ate her out today in the office. She’s addictive, and the way I feel when she comes is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Then, Ryker knocked on the door, banging to be let in so he could be his pain in the ass self. I had to let her leave. I didn’t even get to finish…”
“Did she at least get off?” he asks, our drinking slowing to a snail’s pace.
I glare at him, because hello, I’m an asshole even on a good day, but I always make sure the woman I’m with gets hers. “Of course she got off. I’d never leave her hanging on the edge, ever.” My cock stiffens from the memory of her bare pussy against my desk.
“Okay.” Grant changes the subject quickly, probably not wanting to hear about
all the dirty things Fallon and I did. “What did Ryker want?” My mood changes when I think back to what Ryker came in to tell me.
“Something’s wrong with Dad. I know he said it was just “old age,” but I’m not buying it. I’m going to do some investigating. There’s a nurse at the hospital that’s willing to ask around, though I had to pay her a pretty penny to do it.” I sag against the chair. Moments ago my body was relaxed with pleasure and now I’m filled to the brim with worry.
I don’t understand his reasoning. “So he wants a grandchild to what?” Ryker rolls his eyes and looks as if he understands it all better than I do and he probably does. He’s always been the smarter one. Maybe I should’ve let him take over the company.
“Isn’t it obvious? He wants a grandbaby to spoil while he can, and to carry on the family name, of course. You know how he is. I mean, it’s not rocket science, Reed, and you’ve got Fallon now. She’s willing to give you what Dad wants so I don’t know why the fuck you’re still stressing.”
I can’t tell Ryker the real reason I’m stressed out. I’m worried this will ruin everything we’ve spent years building. She’s my best friend, but now that she’s my lover? I’ve never loved any woman I’ve fucked, and loving Fallon terrifies the hell out of me.
“Yeah, she’s going to give me a baby, but that’s all. We aren’t in a relationship. This is strictly physical, Ryker. Nothing more, nothing less.”
There's a twinkle of mischievousness in Ryker’s eyes that makes me nervous. “There are other men interested in her. You know that right? Do you think you can handle seeing her with one of them? What about while she’s carrying your baby? Can you handle knowing your baby is inside her while someone else’s dick is bringing her pleasure every night?”
I clench my fists at my sides, thinking about someone else with her makes me ragey. I want to punch the fuck out of something.
“Well? What the fuck did he say, Reed?”
Grant’s voice pulls me back to the present before I can finish the thought. “He thinks Dad is sick, and that he’s been hiding his illness for some time so he wouldn’t have to discuss it with us.” Just the idea that he’s sick and going through it alone hurts me more than I care to admit. After losing Mom, death is the last thing I want to think about when it comes to my only remaining parent.
“I’m sorry, Reed. I know how rough it was for you when your mom died, and now your dad too…” His voice trails off, and he shakes his head like he understands how I’m feeling.
Shrugging, I try to act like it doesn’t bother me that much. That knowing my father doesn’t want us to go through whatever it is he’s going through doesn’t cut deep. “It is what it is.” My voice sounds nonchalant, even though it breaks my heart. I don’t show weakness. My dad taught me that. “It’s not like I can stop death from taking the people I love. It’s going to happen. All I can do is make the best of the time I have with them.”
I pour a glass of whiskey from the bottle Grant has on the bar, too drunk to attempt and call the bartender over. “I’ll be fine. It might kill me to let Fallon go when the time comes but at least I’ll have made both her and my father happy.”
There’s a long pause. “But at the expense of your own happiness?” he questions. I don’t answer. There is no happiness for me. Keeping Fallon will only result in ruining the most important relationship in my life.
The baby arrangement isn’t what’s going to ruin us. It’s the feelings we’ve kept at bay for too long. “I’ll find my happiness at the bottom of this whiskey bottle.”
I blink my eyes open, rolling over in the bed. I’m wearing one of the t-shirts Reed gave me when we were teenagers. My bad dream lingers in my mind, so when I register the pounding on my door, I’m startled from my bed. I scurry through the house to the front door, my eyes darting to the clock. Who would be at my door at two am?
Looking out the peephole, I jump back with a gasp, and after unlocking the door, I pull it open. Reed’s red, glassy eyes meet mine.
“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Fear spikes in my belly as I take in his disheveled appearance. He looks and smells like he’s been at a distillery all evening. The stench of cheap whiskey permeates the air as he steps over the threshold, his hands reaching for me.
Warmth wraps around my insides when he touches me, his fingers gentle even in his drunken state. He cradles my face in his hands as he speaks. “Imissedyou.” He slurs the words all together, but I get what he’s saying. He looks almost fragile, so much like the little boy I fell in love with all those years ago.
“I miss you, too, but we see each other almost every day,” I say as he pushes my cheeks together admiring my face as if he’s never seen it before. “Reed, it’s two in the morning. What are you doing here?”
I pull from his touch gently, closing the door behind him as he trips into the living room. He’s wearing a gray t-shirt with blue jeans that hug his ass in all the right places. My mouth waters and my pussy clenches as I stare at him. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him dressed so casually.
“Are you checking me out, sweet girl?” Reed flirts, his eyebrows wiggling drunkenly. I bite down on my bottom lip, trying to hold back a smile while shaking my head no, my brown hair slipping from the bun on top of my head.
“I’m not checking you out; I’m trying to figure out why you smell like you took a bath in whiskey.”
He grins, showing his pearly white teeth, and I force my eyes to floor, realizing that if I look at him for even a second longer I will jump his bones. “Hey. What’s with the sad look?” He stumbles over to me, his legs unsteady, and he’s walking like the room is tilted.
I try to stifle the laughter threatening to escape my lips, but it’s not easy. “I’m not sad … I’m just worried about you. Where have you been?” I ask him, unable to stop myself from running a hand through his dark brown locks. My fingers sink into the soft strands, and he moans, leaning into my touch, his entire body almost falling onto mine.
“This…” He moans, cupping me by my ass, as he presses his head between my tits, my fingers still running through his hair. “I’ve missed this…” I hear him inhale, and I know his pain, the need to feel someone’s touch. He needs me, just like I need him.
His fingers splay against my ass cheeks, and he squeezes the globes, pulling them apart and causing a gasp of pleasure to erupt from my throat. “Reed,” I moan, as he massages my skin.
“Fuck, Fal. I’ve thought about fucking you a thousand different ways today.” Again the words slur together, and I know we can’t do this right now, not while he’s drunk, so I maneuver us towards the sofa.
“There won’t be any of that this evening. You’re drunk as a skunk and I am way too tired.” I shove him until his ass is against the sofa, and then pry his fingers from my ass. I move away, my body betraying me the longer I stay close to him. I want nothing more than to give into his dirty words, his rough touch.
His eyes are heavy, glassy and full of emotion, and his voice slurs slightly when he speaks. “You’re more than I deserve. More than any man deserves.” He blinks up at me as I take his shoes off and lay him down on the couch. Why did he drink so much?
Is he really okay?
“It’s a little late to say that, don’t you think? We’re going to make a baby together.” I snicker, the smile fading from my face as soon as I think back to the dream I was having just a few minutes ago.
“That’s why I don’t deserve you…” He trails off, his eyes close, and I wonder if he passed out. Grabbing the blanket off the back of the couch, I cover him up, but when I look up, he’s staring at me. “You deserve a man that’s going to marry you. One that will wake up every day and eat your pussy, because that’s what a man should do for a woman he loves.”
I smile sadly, because Reed doesn’t think he’s good enough, and this might not work out between us. “Funnily enough, that’s not the first thing on my ‘things a husband should do’ list.”
His tired e
yes meet mine, and he yawns. “Yeah, but he’ll be able to love you and a baby.”
Reed wants this baby so bad, and for all we know, I won’t be able to give him one. I didn’t tell him about the problems my mom had getting pregnant with me. She and my dad tried for years, and finally had to do fertility treatments. Mom told me that every month when her period arrived she’d sit on the bathroom floor and cry. What if that’s what happens with us? I can’t shake the worry after the nightmare I had tonight.
Even though I know he probably won’t remember, I can’t stop myself from asking, “What happens if I can’t give you a baby?”
Reed blinks owlishly, then sits up and pulls me into his lap. His reflexes are fast for a man that smells as if he’s consumed the state’s entire supply of whiskey. “What do you mean, sweet girl? Do you not want to have my baby anymore?” His eyebrows draw together like he’s trying to understand, and I shake my head, wanting to kiss him so badly it almost hurts.
“I mean, what if I can’t give you a baby? I want to give you one, but what if my body decides I can’t?” I shouldn’t be discussing this with Reed while he’s drunk but I can’t help it. My fear is spiraling out of control, because the dream was so real, so vivid; I can still feel the panic prickling against my skin.
“Practice makes perfect.” He wiggles his eyebrows up and down, and when he reaches for me, trying to pull me closer, I gently push him down.
“That’s not what I mean, Reed.” I roll my eyes at his one track mind. “We can talk about it later, when you’re sober.” Or never. I try to get off of his lap but he holds me in place, his arms wrapping tighter around my midsection and forcing me to stay in place.
“I’m not letting you go.” His voice is petulant, and he sounds more like the little boy he was than the dominant man he is now. “You’re sad and afraid, and I want to touch you. I long to touch you, so please, please let me hold you.” Tears swim in Reed’s eyes, and I wonder if this is going to become a common thing between us. This is twice one of us has shown up at the other’s houses, speaking sober words while we’re drunk. I stare down at him, unable to deny him anything when he’s looking at me like I’m his entire world. Plus, I want him to hold me while I sleep in my bed, his bed, wherever he is.