The Bet

by D. K. Combs

  Bristol pushed open the door, and a lull went over the office.

  The employees nearest her moved out of her way, avoiding her gaze. She didn’t take it to mean they had seen Noah and Madeline walk off together because it happened often. In fact, it happened whenever she left the office. No one wanted her attention on them, because if they got it, they were normally in hot water.

  She forced herself to stand tall, even though she wanted to sneak along the wall. It wouldn’t look good on her if she crept around the office like a weirdo.

  There were a few places they could have gone. The copier room, the break room, the bathroom, or outside. Other than that, the office had an open floor plan with the cubicles being only high enough to give each employee enough privacy when they sat down.

  She started with the break room. It was the closest to her office, and there was a door that could give them privacy. Thankfully, when she walked by, the door was wide open and there were only two people in there.

  She backed out of the break room, biting her lip. Would they have gone to the bathroom? If Noah really wanted to win the bet, that wasn’t the place to do it in. Still, it couldn’t hurt to check. She briskly walked down the hall, her steps carrying her farther and farther, her heart pounding harder and harder.

  “Oh—okay, this is unexpected…”

  She froze, mid-step, at the high-pitched, nervous, exhilarated whisper.

  Bristol turned on her heel, and stared at the door.

  The copier room.

  The voice had come from the copy room—and the door to it was just barely open. Not wide open like it should be, but like someone had meant to close it but hadn’t shoved the heavy door hard enough.

  Her heart, hammering fiercely in her chest, dove straight to her stomach. This was happening, she realized, breaths coming in pained gasps. She was hyperventilating, but she couldn’t do anything about it. She forced herself to take a step forward, forced herself to take hold of the handle and push.

  She forced herself to peer into the dimly lit room.

  And then forced herself to hold back the bile.

  The scene that met her eyes tore her to pieces, shattering the last of her fragile emotions.

  Her back facing the same wall of the door, in a way that Madeline would have no way of knowing she was standing there, Noah had her pushed up against the wall. She was bent backwards, elbows holding her up as she braced against the shelf. Noah, nearly bent over to hold her hand, his mouth only centimeters from hers…

  She shoved a hand over her mouth, the pain and betrayal making tears spring to her eyes instantly. In that moment, Noah’s eyes flickered to hers—like he had expected to see her there, had expected her to show up right when he had planned for her to.

  She held his eyes, silently begging him not to, to just step away from her.

  He didn’t move. Just held her eyes, and then ever-so-slowly leaned down.

  Whirling on her feet, she practically ran from the copy room, going straight to her office door and throwing it closed behind her.

  That’s when she let it come over her.

  The pain. The shame and embarrassment over herself for believing that Noah wouldn’t do something like that. The man was a stranger. Besides a few heated moments and a failed date, she knew nothing about him, and never should have placed that kind of expectation on his character.

  She leaned against the wall, her knees giving out underneath her.

  If that was true, though, why did it hurt so much? Why was her chest so tight? Why was it so hard to breathe?

  Bristol told herself this wasn’t right. That he shouldn’t matter to her. They’d only gone out for a date. He’d only been a friend to her with a few benefits. That was it. It wasn’t like they were together, like she felt something more for him, like she had been warming up to him…

  She let her head fall back, eyes gazing upward to keep the tears from falling.

  It was the shock, she thought. The shock that a man would set out to hurt her, just for money. All of the tenderness within him, all of the kindness… It was all a joke.

  Something pounded on her door.

  “Bristol, open the door. I know you’re in there.” He pounded again, and after that, she heard his hand touch the handle.

  She jumped to her feet, lunging for the lock. If he saw her like this, she wouldn’t be able to control herself. She might actually lash out, and that was the last thing she wanted. At least, in her office. Any other time, she would have let herself go, would have beat the hell out of him for doing this to her, but not here.

  Bristol was too late in locking the door. It swung open, nearly crashing into her.

  Standing there, hands fisted at his sides, face dark and filled with anger and frustration, was Noah.

  Staring right at her.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “You need to leave,” she said, hating the shakiness of her voice. She couldn’t stop it from happening, though. She was trying too hard not to cry, not to hit him, not to make him feel the pain she felt. The betrayal.

  “No,” he said, stepping into her office. He kicked the door closed behind him, then locked it. All the while keeping his eyes on her. Not looking away once.

  That was the only thing keeping her tears at bay.

  She wouldn’t give him the pleasure of letting him see her cry, not over him. Not over the selfish bastard.

  “Noah, get out of my office.”

  This time, he didn’t bother speaking. He just shook his head, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it on the chair. As he did so, he went to each window by the wall facing out to Long Island, pulling down all the blinds

  “I will call security,” she warned, watching him, following his every move. He was languid, moving with a precision that told her this was exactly what he wanted to happen. He had planned on taking off his jacket, planned on closing the blinds. And when he started clearing off her desk, stacking everything into one pile, she knew that had been planned as well.

  “What are you doing?” Her voice came out as a rasp. He still didn’t answer. Just kept stacking things until there was nothing left to stack. Then he set it on her chair, pushed the thing out of the way, and reached for the hem of his shirt.

  “Noah, tell me what you’re doing,” she demanded. Her throat closed when he pulled it over his head, reaching for the buckle of his pants. “No—stop. I will call security. You have five seconds to get your clothes back on—”

  “No you won’t,” he said, voice low. “Come here. Now, Bristol.”

  She shook her head.

  “I’m not going anywhere near you.” She anxiously touched her throat, hating how fast her heart was pounding. If it went much faster, she would probably puke everywhere. Or faint. Or both. Or she would forget about her heart beat the second he had the buckle undone and was reaching for his zipper.

  “Now,” he repeated, standing by the shorter end of the desk. He didn’t lose her gaze, not once this whole time. And Bristol...she couldn’t make herself break it.

  Again, she shook her head, still watching him. “I know about the bet,” she said in a desperate attempt to make him get his clothes back on. “I...I know about the movie theater bet. I know about the bet with Madeline. You got what you wanted—now leave. Please.”

  If he caught onto the desperation in her voice, he didn’t let on.

  “If you don’t come over here—”

  “Don’t do that to me,” she whispered, backing away from him. “Don’t do this to me. Noah, I won’t… I’m not…”

  “I know.” That was all he said before he strode over to her, bare-chested. He took her by the waist and drew her right into him, his body hot and large and everything she wanted, yet couldn’t let herself have. Not after seeing him with Madeline, not after knowing that he’d completed the bet. That he had willingly hurt her just for money.

  She brought her hands up to push against his shoulder—but that didn’t go as planned. The second her hands t
ouched his chest, the heat of his skin did something to her. Infected her. Drove away all of her hurt, leaving her angry, confused. Why did she want him after what he’d just done?

  Why did she always want him?

  “I hate you,” she whispered furiously, lowering her eyes. She dug her nails into his chest, hands gradually turning into fists against his warm chest. Underneath her hand, his heart hammered. Hard. Fast. She looked up at him, tears brimming in her eyes. “Noah, I hate you.”

  He stared down at her, then touched her jaw. Tenderly. So damn tender.

  It made her furious.

  “Bristol, I didn’t—”

  “Shut up,” she snapped. “Shut the hell up. How could you do that to me? How could you be so nice to me, make me want you more than I’ve ever wanted someone before? How could you do all of that, knowing what you had to do, knowing what it would do to me? Why me?”

  He opened his mouth to respond, but she didn’t give him time.

  Her emotions consumed her. Like a fury rising inside of her, heat and pain rising to create an emotion she’d never felt before, she lifted her hand to hit him.

  But she never struck. No, instead of hitting him, she did something a lot worse. Something she would probably never forgive herself for.

  She kissed him.

  Hands taking him by the jaw and dragging his lips to hers, she kissed him hard, angrily. She poured every ounce of her betrayal into that kiss, letting him know just how hurt she was. He groaned, arms twining around her.

  One behind her back, the other tangling in her hair, he maneuvered her until her ass was resting against the edge of the desk. He didn’t push her back, though. No, he held her there, his mouth moving with hers, over hers, tongue tasting her.

  Their kiss was born of fury and passion, arousal mixing with the pain to create a high she’d never felt before. It was the only excuse she had for what happened next.

  His hands slid down, quickly taking her shirt out from under her skirt and pulling it over her head. Her bra and tank top came next, and then he was reaching behind her to undo her skirt—all the while kissing her. His movements were quick but expert. He kissed her and undressed her until her skirt was on the floor and her panties were around her ankles.

  The only things she had on was a ponytail and her black heels.

  Soon after she was naked, though, he let go of her. She could have pulled back, could have shoved him away and told him to leave. It would have been the perfect opportunity. Without his hands to touch her and strip away her sense of thought, she could turn him away.

  It’s what she should have done. It would have been the smart thing to do.

  But she obviously wasn’t a very smart person when it came to Noah, so when he reached down to take off the rest of his clothes with one hand, while using the other hand to undo the bun on the back of her head, she stayed exactly where she was, her frenzied hands roaming over his body, letting her nails drag along his skin.

  She wanted him to hurt just as much as she did, but it was lost in translation. He shuddered, then pulled back, his pants kicked off to the side and his underwear removed.

  Vaguely, she realized this was not okay. Not just because she was pissed, but because of where they were.

  She was butt naked.

  In her office.

  And she just knew she was about to be laid back on her desk while he fucked her brains out good and hard. She’d never had a hate fuck before, but this was the only way she could describe it. She hated him, but she wanted him. She wanted to erase Madeline’s kiss, she wanted to make him forget about all of it—and when the two of them were done, she would leave him completely.

  Just like she had all of her other one-night stands. Just like she would the next one, and the one after that. She was done with Noah, done with feeling anything toward him. The happiness, the pain—she was done with it.

  His face buried in her neck, and then he reached for her knees, sliding his hands underneath them. She wound her arms around his neck and held onto him tightly. Her body was lifted off the desk, off the ground completely, until he laid her back onto the desk.

  When her back was on the cold wood, he didn’t let go of her knees. No, after she let go of his neck, he was jerking her roughly to the edge of the desk, pulling her thighs up. He tossed her legs over his arms, bringing himself right up to the edge of the desk.

  After countless times of hoping it would happen, she felt him against her, felt his cock rub against her core. The sensation was overwhelming. She loved it—in a way that she had never felt, she loved the feel of him there. It was different than any other man, different than any other sensation—and he wasn’t even inside her yet.

  They didn’t say anything because there was nothing to say. If she thought too hard, she would push him away. There was no thinking right now—only feeling, only fucking.

  Only angry, hateful sex.

  And that’s exactly what she needed.

  She needed a way to get over this, over Noah, and this had to be the best way.

  “Bristol,” he said, staring down at her. She shook her head against the emotions welling inside of her. She wanted to revel in the softness of his gaze, the way he reached for her face. She redirected his hand, angrily shoving it onto her breast.

  The pain was good. The pain was what she needed.

  “No. Just fuck me. Just get it over with, Noah.”

  He looked at her, eyes burning with an emotion she didn’t want to decipher. He reached between them with one hand, pulling back slightly to adjust himself properly, and then he was pressing forward.

  She parted for him, her body willingly complying, even if her mind was screaming at her to stop this. He didn’t deserve to get any pleasure out of this, didn’t deserve to stare down at her eyes filled with so much regret and arousal that she couldn’t breathe from it.

  She’d wanted his hands on her to be rough, but they were anything but. She wanted him to go fast, hard, angry—but he wouldn’t. Even with her pushing against him, her body demanding him to go harder and faster, he didn’t.

  No, he took complete control. He held her knees still, going only at his pace. He held her eyes. The whole time, since he’d walked into her office, he hadn’t looked away from her.

  And damn her, but neither could she.

  “Noah, damn it, just—”

  “No. If this is the last time, then I want to do it my way. Not yours.”

  “This isn’t about you,” she gasped, unable to stop her reaction. He pushed roughly inside of her, his body meeting hers completely, leaving no space between them. Her head fell back on a moan.

  “You’re right,” he grated, pulling back. “This is about you—and I’m going to make sure you enjoy it.”

  She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to tell him that she wouldn’t enjoy it, would never enjoy it—but it would have been a lie. She was enjoying every minute of this—from the hurt inside of her to the pleasure he was creating. She enjoyed all of it.

  He stood still this time, instead using her knees to pull himself back inside of her.

  “Now you care? Now you care if I enjoy something? What happened to if I would enjoy seeing you kiss Madeline—for money?”

  “Bristol, I didn’t—”

  “Just fuck me, Noah. Don’t say anything else. Just fuck me. Just get. It. Over. With.”

  His eyes flashed, jaw clenching, and then he started pumping inside of her in earnest. The talking stopped, and she had a feeling it would be the last time.

  She took hold of his arms, using them to help get leverage. The desk slid back and forth, his body bowing over hers. He spread her legs wider, thrusting harder, faster.

  Every contact of their skin had her burning, her flesh tingling with the need to have more of him against her—but she told herself no. She wasn’t going to reach for him, she wasn’t going to hold onto him. She didn’t want to.

  And yet, as his movements became rougher, more demanding, he leaned over her.
His head fell against her chest as his body rocked against hers, and before she could do anything to stop him, he was grabbing her breast and covering her nipple with his mouth.

  She held back on her moan, but God, did she want to. He sucked, nipped, licked. As he practically worshiped her breast, their hips smacked together. When he lowered a hand between their bodies and she felt the first touch of his finger against her clit, she jerked, wrapping her arms around him before she could stop herself.

  Bristol panted into his neck. The sensation against her clit, combined with the pounding inside of her, was enough to cause the convulsions. She tensed, all of that pleasure and agony over his betrayal building inside of her, creating a wave.

  There was no chance of escape. As he bit down on her breast, the wave started to crest, and the tension turned into a pool of pleasure and arousal, her body clenching around him, drawing him in farther. He ripped away from her breast, cursing, his own movements becoming frantic and jerky.

  He pulled back to take her jaw in his hand, forcing her to look at him. As the wave of emotions started to crash, her body followed suit. The release washed through, taking all of the emotions, all of the pain and happiness, only to uproot them and send them on a free-fall throughout her.

  The orgasm hit her hard. Her head slammed back, her body went taut against his, and as his own hips slammed into hers, her body milked his own release from him.

  As her release buzzed through her, coming to an end too soon for her to handle, tears welled in her eyes.

  He was on top of her, heart racing above hers, and they were as close as they had ever been. And yet...she felt alone. So alone.

  Her arms fell from around him.

  It was the same feeling she had felt after every single one of her one-night stands.

  Noah was nothing more than a quick fuck, she thought, turning her head away from him. Nothing more, nothing less. He was officially...nothing to her.

  Chapter Twenty-Five