#1 Rival

by Gephart, T

  “Thank you.” I gave Daniel a quick nod before turning to Roman. “Let’s go.”

  I didn’t wait for him to agree, heading to the door and walking out. Roman was only a couple of steps behind me when he grabbed my arm. “Your office or mine?”

  “Yours.” I shook off his arm, wanting the opportunity to storm off. It wasn’t easy, his longer legs keeping up easily with me as the eyes of our colleagues followed us down the hall.

  They were well versed in our process; the one that usually involved heated discussion behind closed doors. I guess they assumed everyone else was safe as long as we were yelling at each other.

  Roman got to his office first, overtaking me and flinging open the door. I stepped in, helping him out by slamming it behind us.

  “What makes you think you can tell me which cases I need to drop?” I glared at him, my skin prickling with annoyance.

  “You didn’t even want the case.” He glared back, seeming confused about why I was upset. “You had to take it because you lost the bet. You should be thanking me for getting you off the hook.”

  “Thanking you?” I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to laugh or choke him. “Yes, I didn’t want it, but I have it now and I don’t just dump clients halfway through a deal. What kind of message does that send?”

  Going through the ITP paperwork and their fiber optics acquisition was like reading the Yellow Pages. Long, boring, and time-consuming that yielded limited reward and even less thanks. Chase Anderson might be happy to have an associate vet for him, but when it came time to sign, he’d want a partner. For no other reason than men like him and their egos wanted to feel important. But while I suffered through the brain-numbing hoop jumping, I also wasn’t in the habit of leaving a job unfinished. Especially not when I’d already put in so much work.

  “He will be dealt with by someone else.” He moved forward, forcing me to stand my ground. “Besides, he’s been dragging his feet for months, he’s not even close to making a decision.”

  “Well, he sounded pretty close to it when I spoke to him.” I sneered back, the lie passing easily through my lips. We’d barely spoken and he hadn’t been close to deciding shit, but I wasn’t going to admit it.

  Roman’s jaw tightened, his eyes dipping down to my body. “And did he tell you that while he was staring at your tits or you ass?”

  My hand lifted without thinking, ready to slap him when he caught it. I was so angry, I didn’t even care that I’d gone from thinking about hitting him to actually following through.

  “You asshole.” I tried to rip my hand from his grip to no avail. “I have never used my body to work a client, and it’s offensive that you’d even think that.”

  “I know that.” He didn’t let go, his fingers staying locked around my wrist. “But Chase Anderson is a prick and him seeing you in this dress is making me fucking crazy.”

  I stopped struggling, burning hot and cold by his admission. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about it; both thrilled and appalled that anything involving me made him crazy.

  “Then why did you give me the freaking case in the first place?” It was his doing I was even dealing with Chase.

  “Because he usually only deals with partners.” His eyes heated as he captured my chin with his hand. “He’s never met with an associate before, and I had no idea he’d meet with you.”

  I should have put him out of his misery and told him that my meeting hadn’t been with Chase, but I didn’t. I wasn’t sure if it was jealousy or he just didn’t like someone else playing with his toys, but I liked it. Maybe more than I should.

  “I’m not dropping the case,” I said, the defiance in my voice making his pupils dilate.

  His mouth lowered, brushing against my lips. “Because you want to piss me off, or for another reason?”

  My chin tilted higher, closing what little distance there was between us, and I kissed him. Full, deep on the mouth, as my fingers threaded in his hair. “Because no one tells me what to do.” I moaned between kisses. “That it pisses you off is just a bonus.”

  His hands moved down my body, kissing down my neck. “Fine, we’ll discuss it later.”

  “Or we won’t.” I laughed, not willing to concede anything despite the very compelling argument his body was making.

  “I have to say, I like our new way of settling arguments.” He squeezed my ass, nibbling at my collarbone.

  I laughed, anger taking a backseat to other emotions. “Nothing was settled, Roman, you’re just thinking with your penis so you’re no longer worried about what is going through your mind.”

  “Harper.” He stopped kissing me, a smirk spreading across his lips. “If you think I wasn’t thinking with my penis every single time we argued, then you are delusional.”

  “You’re a sick man, Roman Pierce.” I half-heartedly pushed him away.

  “Yeah, but you’re sleeping with me.” He kept his arms locked around me, my poor attempt of a shove doing nothing to move him. “So, what’s that say about you? You want to throw more stones at the glass house, go right ahead.”

  “Hmm, maybe I’ve decided to stop all that nonsense.” Not likely, considering what we had done on my desk this morning and would probably happen on his desk if I didn’t put a stop to it.

  “Your sister home tonight?” He ignored my last statement, and either he didn’t believe me or—like always when he didn’t like the topic of conversation—he pretended he didn’t hear it.

  “Yes, she just came off three nights in a row.” We’d had the changing of the guard at the front door when I left and she’d just gotten home. “She has the next two days off.”

  “You want to have dinner with her before you come back to my place?”

  It never ceased to amaze me just how cocky he was, that he had zero fear of rejection. It was like he was made of bulletproof body armor, it went beyond confidence and into a whole other realm.

  “You know, Roman, you should probably ask me first before you just assume.” I’m not sure why I bothered, there wasn’t a chance I was spending my night alone.

  “Really? You aren’t going to come to my place so I can fuck you properly?” He laughed, an amused look of his face. “We can go back to yours if you want, but we both know you struggle to be quiet, and you just said your sister is going to be home.”

  I pushed against his chest, this time a little more forcefully. “I’m leaving, you jerk. But yes, fine, whatever, we’ll go to your place.”

  “Glad you saw it my way.” He slowly eased his hold, enabling me to untangle myself from his body. “Let me know if you have a preference for dinner. I’ll make a reservation.”

  His invitation made me stop; my feet no longer interested in walking out the door. “You want to have dinner with me?”

  “Didn’t we already establish that?” He raised an eyebrow. “I know I just didn’t have a conversation with myself.”

  I knew dinner had been mentioned, but I assumed I’d just go see him later. For sex, which was what I assumed we were doing. Dinner felt like it might be more, and something I wasn’t expecting.

  “Why?” I heard myself ask, wondering why he’d do that when I had already agreed to sleep with him.

  “Have dinner with you?” He cocked his head to the side like it was me who was the puzzle. “Because I want to and I like it. I enjoy our dinner conversations. It’s . . .” He searched for the word. “I just like it.” He shook his head, giving no further explanation and I was almost positive he knew what he’d wanted to say but didn’t. “So while I’m sure you’d probably prefer the company of your sister, I’d rather you eat with me. I’ll let you choose where and what time of course, as long as it’s not Niko’s.” The edges of his lips curled into a grin.

  “Wow.” I didn’t bother trying to hide my surprise, both at his honesty and that he wanted to spend time with me outside the bedroom. I wasn’t sure I was expecting either.

  “This is my version of a compromise.” He shot me a wink, seeming to be
proud of himself. “You should try it by dropping Anderson as a client.”

  “That wouldn’t be a compromise,” I pointed out. “That is getting your way.”

  A wicked grin spread across his lips. “I see no problem with that, I like getting my way.”

  He was a menace and if I didn’t leave soon, it would dissolve into trouble for sure. We’d already tempted fate once this morning, having sex in my office with an unlocked door, I wasn’t confident we’d be as lucky the second time around.

  Not to say I wasn’t tempted, we could lock the door this time around.

  No.

  I should go.

  “See you later, Roman.” I turned, giving him a finger wave as I made my way to the door. “I’m going to have dinner with my sister tonight and then I’ll come see you after.”

  His eyes darkened as he watched my hand open the door. “I thought we agreed you were having dinner with me.”

  I tossed over my shoulder as I walked out, “We agreed nothing.”

  MORGAN MADE CHICKEN POTPIE, IT was flaky and delicious, and I savored every mouthful.

  “You are never allowed to get married.” I took another forkful, loading it with culinary goodness. “Or if you do, you aren’t allowed to move out. I will die if I have to fend for myself.”

  Morgan laughed, finishing off the rest of her dinner. “The drama. You could learn you know. If you can read, you can cook, you just need to follow the recipe.”

  “And deprive you of this.” I waved my fork at what was left of the pie. “No, I wouldn’t be so cruel.”

  She grabbed her plate, rinsing it off before loading it into the dishwasher. “So.” She paused, raising an eyebrow. “Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?”

  “If this is your way of telling me I’m putting on weight, you can save it.” I spoke around the last forkful. “I don’t care, your cooking is worth it.”

  “You aren’t putting on weight.” She leaned her hip against the kitchen counter as she gave me a pointed look. “Roman. You. Sleeping together.”

  Morgan had worked nights all weekend, which meant she had slept during the day. It was the excuse I gave her for my spa time, not wanting to wake her by being noisy in the apartment. Of course she saw right through my transparent and lame attempt to forget about Roman, but was kind enough not to push. But now, all bets were off with the news that after dinner I was going to spend the night at his apartment.

  “It’s no big deal.” I joined her by the sink, shrugging as I rinsed off my dinner plate to illustrate that it was indeed no big deal. “I don’t know if it’s going to be a nightly thing, we’re just keeping it casual for right now.”

  “Lo, you work together.” Her hand reached across and clasped mine. “Please promise me you are going to be really careful. You love your job. I don’t want that to change if things go south with Roman.”

  “It won’t,” I promised, my fingers squeezed hers back. “It’s just fun for now and when it stops being fun, we’ll go back to not sleeping with each other. We’re going to argue regardless, so that part won’t be different.”

  She sighed seeming to be unconvinced. “Okay. Well, you know what you’re doing.”

  I didn’t think she was confident that I did know, but at least she was being supportive.

  “He invited me to dinner,” I admitted, Roman’s offer to have dinner unmentioned when I came home.

  Morgan looked surprised, the shift in the conversation hopefully taking away some of her concern. “And?”

  “And it was sort of weird. Like he was going to say something and then he didn’t.” I paraphrased trying to remember exactly what he’d said. “By his own admission, he doesn’t date a lot and his only reasoning was that he liked it.”

  “Liked dinner?” Morgan screwed up her face in confusion.

  “Dinner with me, wiseass.” I rolled my eyes. “Maybe I should send you instead so you can try and work him out. I can’t say that part of me isn’t curious and slightly confused.”

  I was only half joking. Tempted to find a way to send my sister in my place or have her observe us, purely for experimental purposes. To sit in as an independent observer and dissect his behavior and throw some light on his possible motives. Her training as a nurse made her brilliant at gauging people, and working in the ER made her excellent at problem solving even if the situation was unpredictable. She was a double threat, and I respected and valued her opinion.

  “So, why did you say no?” She asked the same question I had asked myself.

  And that was when I lied through my teeth.

  “Because I wanted to see you. I mean, he isn’t my whole life or anything,” I clarified, realizing how ridiculous it sounded that I’d rather spend a night eating pie with my sister rather than the hot man I was sleeping with. “Maybe I just want to keep him guessing.” Only thing was, it was me who was guessing, and I wasn’t sure what the hell I was doing. “But I’m going to see him tonight.”

  She nodded not suspecting my reason was bogus because for the most part, it sounded convincing. It was rational and even normal to not rush into a—what exactly were we doing?—“relationship.” And sure, that was partly true.

  But the real reason why I had said no to dinner was because I was worried about his reasons, which as far as I was concerned were unclear. He liked it. Did he mean he liked me, or that he wasn’t eating alone? Was I good company, or did he like me in particular? I hated how even the questions in my own head made me feel vulnerable and how much I wanted it to be personal.

  That he wanted me across that table, and no one else.

  Because suddenly I was needy and would rather live in ignorance than the truth where I was replaceable.

  He’d respected me before. We’d had our differences sure, but he’d never treated me like I was less because I was a woman. I didn’t want things to change, and I didn’t want to stop sleeping with him either.

  So instead I buried my head in the sand, claiming ignorance for a little while longer. Because what I didn’t know couldn’t hurt me.

  I wasn’t sure when exactly I’d turned idiot, but my transition seemed to be complete. And it was a downward spiral I didn’t care to stop.

  The minute I’d walked through the door of Roman’s apartment, he had his hands on me.

  Then his mouth.

  Then everything else.

  He blanketed me, consumed me, drank me in whole, as we forgot about the argument at work, my refusal to have dinner with him, and everything else that didn’t involve the present moment.

  I was in his bedroom before I’d gotten a chance to check out his décor, naked before I’d said hello, and had him inside of me before my back hit the mattress. It was fast and hard, which was exactly how I wanted it, and how I’d wanted him.

  The second time was slower, but no less intense, and by the third my mind had become a wasteland, complete dominion given to my body as he worshiped me.

  And I never wanted it to stop.

  “You staying or going?” His lips kissed my shoulder while his arms held me captive. I liked the way it felt, and how I felt inside of them.

  “Going.”

  He kissed me again.

  “Staying.”

  I’d changed my mind.

  He smiled against my skin, and I assumed this was once again his version of a compromise, AKA him getting his way.

  “Good. I’ll think of a creative way to wake you in the morning.”

  I didn’t want to fight him, loving the idea of staying curled up beside him and even more excited that he liked that too. Maybe he did like me—as in me, personally—to be around? The idea that he wanted me to stay with him delighted me more than just spending the night. I snuggled in closer, feeling his arms around me.

  “What if I decide to wake you?” I grinned in the darkness.

  He chuckled, his hand moving to my breast. “Blowjob.”

  I sighed, pretending that was not exactly what I had been thinking. “So pr
edictable, and in no way creative.”

  “Fine, hand job followed by a blowjob.” He pulled me in tighter. “Extra points for creativity if you can perform both while sliding my cock between these beautiful tits.” His hands closed around the “tits” of which he spoke.

  “Or me, my mouth, hands and tits can stay asleep and see what you come up with.” I didn’t turn around, but I knew he was grinning. “Yeah, that sounds like a better plan.” I snuggled up close pretending to go to sleep.

  It didn’t take long and I was no longer pretending, my eyes staying shut as my breathing evened out. My body and mind drifted into complete darkness as I fell asleep in his arms.

  Morning had indeed been creative, opening my eyes to my naked body covered in pancakes. The flat fluffy disks had been strategically placed on my breasts as I woke to warm syrup being poured over me.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I tried to sit up as syrup leaked onto the sheets. It was a gooey mess that was going to ruin his bed linen but he didn’t seem to care, pushing me back down as his finger trailed up my ribs.

  “I made myself breakfast.” He lowered his mouth to the pancake that had slipped from my breast and took a nibble, his tongue gathering syrup until it reached my firm peak. I moaned as he closed his mouth, sucking me hard as I laid back down.

  “No breakfast for me?” I asked as he feasted on my body, occasionally taking a bite from a pancake as well.

  He flattened his tongue against my belly, running it down to the top of my pussy and stopped. “What do you want, Lauren?”

  It was like he rationed out saying my name, saving it for those times when it would have maximum impact. Every single time I was surprised when he didn’t call me Harper, making my skin tingle as a word I had heard a million times before sounded different coming from his mouth.

  I craved it, like a drug.

  “Kiss me, Roman.”

  And in a hot sticky mess of pancakes and syrup he did just that, lifting me off the bed and carrying me to the shower where we had sex. We never did get to finish breakfast.