I couldn’t tell you why I insisted on pushing. Every fiber in my body rallied against it, but my curiosity forced me to push him further. “But don’t you want to know what they say? I mean, the woman’s pretty insistent. Maybe she’s a reporter or something—”
“I said fucking delete them!” he bellowed, startling me enough that I jerked back. A combination of emotions played out on his face as he raked both his hands through his hair in severe agitation and began a short, clipped pace. The anger, I recognized; it was the other one I was unsure of. Was it pain… sorrow? I couldn’t quite tell, and that ate at my insides. “Please, Navie. Just… just listen to me, okay. For once, don’t argue. Just do your fucking job.”
His words were harsh, cutting, and my normal reaction would have been to spit venom right back at him. But something stopped me. My gut told me there was a reason for his overreaction, that I shouldn’t take it personally, that this wasn’t a battle I should pick. So I went against my nature and gave him a quick nod. “Okay,” I whispered.
Without another word, he stormed from the room. I waited until I heard the slam of his office door before turning back to the computer sitting in my lap. My fingers didn’t hesitate once as I highlighted each of the emails and did a hard delete, ensuring they disappeared completely.
We didn’t talk about it.
Other than a quick apology for his behavior, Rowan and I never mentioned the emails or Bree again. A week passed, and every time a new one showed up in his inbox, I did the same thing I’d done with all the others, deleted them. I never told him. He never asked. Despite how badly I wanted to know, I forced myself to push all thoughts of Bree to the back of my mind, telling myself it was none of my business. We carried on like it had never happened. And I tried to convince myself that everything was fine… even though I knew it wasn’t.
That was how I ended up at Pepper’s boutique two days before the American Heart Association event, with Rowan in tow, a smug grin tipping up his lips as we pushed through the front door.
“Ooh, girl!” I heard exclaimed the instant I stepped inside. The owner of that voice popped up in front of me, as if out of thin air. “Aren’t you just de-lish! Mmm mm mmm.” The man I’d never seen before in my life gave an exaggerated snap of his fingers before taking me by the shoulders and turning me in a circle. As I momentarily faced a laughing Rowan, I made sure to give him my best ‘I hate you’ glare, even though it had no effect. “You’re like a sexy Pollyanna, baby girl. I’d like to stick you in my pocket and take you home with me. And those eyes! You’re an absolute doll!”
“Uh… thanks?” It wasn’t until he stepped back that I got a good look at the man in all his flamboyance. Salmon-colored, skin-tight skinny jeans hugged every inch of his thin, yet lean, legs. His teal polo shirt—equally as tight—should have clashed with the pants, yet somehow, it worked brilliantly. The dude wore the collar popped up with a tribal scarf in accenting colors wrapped around his neck. Everything from the trendy boat shoes on his feet to the fedora covering his chocolate-brown hair screamed fab-u-lous. The guy accessorized better than I did! But it was the Calvin Klein model-esque face that did it for me. He was stunning, all sharp cheekbones and chiseled jawline. An absolute pretty boy. And had it not been for the amazing compliments he’d given me the moment I walked in, I would have hated him on the spot—for the simple fact that the guy was clearly competition when it came to landing a man.
“No thanks needed, sugar. I think you and I are going to be the best of friends.”
“And who exactly are you?” Rowan asked, pressing close against my back.
“Mmm,” the man hummed approvingly as he leaned to the side in order to run his eyes up and down Rowan’s frame the best he could.
“Give me an hour, big boy, and I’ll be whoever you want.”
I burst into a fit of laughter at the man in front of me at the same time Rowan pushed closer to me, as though I could shield him in some way from a guy who weighed about fifty pounds less and stood several inches shorter than him.
“You’re right,” I told him. “I think you and I are gonna be great friends.”
“What can I say?” He grinned at me before making sexy eyes in Rowan’s direction. “I’m very likable.” Rowan grunted uncomfortably, causing me to laugh once again. “I’m Tomas,” the man said, reaching out to shake my hand. “Toe-mas,” he annunciated, bringing my hand to his lips and pressing a kiss against my knuckles. “Like Thomas, but with a little… flair,” he finished, giving his shoulders a shake.
“Well, Tomas.” I giggled. “I’m Navie.”
“Ooh, I love it!” he exclaimed with an excitable clap. “That name fits you perfectly! So much better than Jennifer or Tiffany.” His lips curled up as if those names would be an insult to my very being.
“And this is Rowan,” I offered, stepping out of the way completely so Tomas had a perfect view. Who was I to deny a person their little piece of happiness?
“Traitor,” Rowan rumbled under his breath as Pepper came from the back of the shop.
“Yay! You’re here!” Done up in her typical Rockabilly fab, she rushed over to me and wrapped me in a big hug. “And you brought a babysitter?” she asked, giving Rowan a wink.
“You’re hilarious, Pep,” he shot back with an eye roll. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his cell and held it up. “You know, I could always call Griffin to join us and make a little party of it?”
Her smile morphed into a fierce glare before she took hold of my hand and started leading me away. “Come on, Navie. Let’s go get you the most fabulous, expensive dress we can find.” She shot a smirk over her shoulder at Rowan. “I have Rowan’s card on file. Tomas, please make sure Mr. Locklaine is very comfortable.”
I shot a look over my shoulder as I giggled. Rowan’s face went surprisingly pale at the same time Tomas offered, “My pleasure, sweetheart. My pleasure indeed.”
It usually went without saying that I absolutely hated shopping. I was barely over five feet tall with more boobs and butt than I would have preferred. Finding clothes that fit my frame was next to impossible.
But watching Rowan coming out of his skin every time Tomas made a play made trying on countless dresses so worth it.
“So, what are your plans after this?” Tomas asked. “I’m thinking me, you, a bottle of tequila and a couple of neckties. Make an evening of it.”
From my place behind the dressing room curtain, I had to pause in pulling up the next gown as I leaned over in laughter, clutching my stomach as I wheezed in a breath.
“Oh, for the love of hell! Pepper, will you call off your dog, for fuck’s sake?”
I just finished pulling the dress up and securing the zipper when I heard, “Oh, baby,” Tomas purred. “I won’t bite… unless you want me to. But you feel free to use your teeth whenever you want. Hard.”
“Pepper!”
“Tomas, take it down a notch or a thousand, babe.”
“You got it, sweets.”
I stepped through the curtain just in time to watch Tomas hold his pinky and thumb up to his face, mouthing call me to Rowan as he walked away from him.
“All right, Pepper.” I laughed as I climbed the two steps onto the small podium in front of the three-way mirror. “This is the last one I’m trying on. It better damn well be good enough.”
She emitted a startling, ear-splitting screech that had me spinning around to look in her and Rowan’s direction. She went all girly with a squealing, “It’s so perfect!”
“Oh, sugar,” Tomas breathed with his clasped hands tucked to his chest. “You’re bringing a tear to my queer little eye.” To prove the point, he sniffled and ran a finger across his cheek.
Turning back to the mirror, I gazed at my reflection and was inclined to agree. It was a gorgeous Grecian-style gown in a soft, cream-colored chiffon. It flowed from my ribs all the way down to my toes in four layers, the three top layers made sheer so it looked like water as I swayed from side to side. The A-line
bust was designed with a shimmery gold appliqué that twisted all the way around and wove into the one and only strap on my left shoulder. It was classy without being overstated. It accentuated my body while still being unbelievably comfortable. But the main selling point was the fact that I felt beautiful in it.
“Oh, wow,” I breathed as I ran my hands down my waist, my fingers skating over the smooth material, taking everything in with wide eyes.
“Rowan? What do you think?” Pepper asked, pulling my attention away from the mirror to look back. What I saw left me nearly breathless. The muscle in his jaw ticked like it did every time I saw him get angry. But the way his throat moved as he swallowed, the way his crystal-clear gaze darkened as his eyes raked back and forth over every inch of my frame, the way his fists clenched and unclenched over and over… well, something about all of that led me to believe that anger was the last thing he was feeling.
And because of that, I felt warmth pool in my belly, a tingle between my thighs that refused to go away. At that very moment, I was thankful for the gathered material around my breasts masking the fact that my nipples had hardened painfully under his stare.
“I’m thinking he might like it.” Pepper’s voice held joyous humor as she joined Tomas in clutching her hands to her chest.
“Oh, baby. He more than likes it,” Tomas replied. “Judging by that python standing tall behind his fly, he loves it.”
That did it. That pulled both Rowan and I out of the heat of the moment. My head fell back in hysterical laughter at the same time Rowan exclaimed, “Jesus, Mary, and motherfucking Joseph. Come on, Tomas!”
“What?” He shrugged innocently. “Just stating the facts, stud. If she wasn’t so goddamned sweet, I may have to cut a bitch.”
“Aww, thanks, Tomas.” I giggled as I turned back to my reflection.
“Anything for you, sweet tea.”
It was official. I was in love with Tomas. And I was so getting this dress.
It was official. I was so fucked.
I tightened my fist around my aching cock as I tugged faster and harder. Those familiar tingles started at the base of my spine, my balls tightening as I got closer to blowing. And the one vision behind my lids as I pumped my dick at a furious pace, chasing after my orgasm, was Navie.
God, Navie.
That fucking dress was going to be the death of me.
But it wasn’t imagining her in that dress that was going to push me over the edge. It was that dress, and the way she looked with her head thrown back in laughter, and that goddamned look on her face when she turned to me. I’d been hard just staring at her. Watching those navy-colored eyes dilate with want, like I was a lake in the middle of the desert and she hadn’t had water in ages. That look was what had me grunting as I lay in my bed, in my dark room, shooting my load all over my hand and stomach.
Jesus Christ.
If an orgasm was that good just thinking about her, I couldn’t imagine what it would have felt like if it had been her small hand wrapped around me. Or better yet, her tight pussy snug all around me as I pounded into her.
Yep, I was royally fucked.
It felt like the night of the gala had snuck up on me unexpectedly. Yes, I had a fabulous dress and amazing high-heeled strappy sandals in the same shade of gold as the applique on my dress. My hair and makeup were both flawless, thanks to Pepper and Harlow’s impeccable work. I’d managed to find the time to create chandelier earrings that looked like hammered gold leaves, plus a thin slave bracelet with matching leaves that ran from my wrist up the back of my hand where a thin chain looped around my middle finger. But mentally, I was freaking out.
Other than Rowan, I wasn’t going to know anyone there. And to say I didn’t fit in with the crowd that attended an event such as the AHA gala was an epic understatement. I hadn’t felt so out of my element since I was a teenager.
“Stop fidgeting.” Rowan reached across the seat and wrapped his long fingers around my hand that had been tugging at my bracelet.
His soft words and gentle touch pulled my attention from the passing buildings outside our limousine's window. “I can’t help it.”
His grip on my hand loosened as he flipped my palm over and looked down, the tips of his fingers whispering over the gold leaves wrapped around my wrist. “You keep yanking on this bracelet and you’re going to break it.” I turned my attention from his handsome face, his strong jaw covered in a day’s worth of stubble. He still managed to look slightly rugged, even while wearing a designer tux, and my body had been tingling since the moment I climbed into the limo and first caught sight of him. “You make this?” he asked, jerking me back to reality.
“Yeah. And the earrings. I needed something to match my dress.”
“Gorgeous,” he said on a whispered breath. I thought he was talking about the bracelet, but when I looked up from our hands that crystal gaze was focused solely on my face. My breath hitched as his eyes roamed every inch of my features. He leaned in closer, his hand on my wrist tightening as though he was afraid I’d pull away. I had absolutely no intention of pulling away. I didn’t have it in me to fight any longer. Denying myself something I wanted so badly was exhausting, and I didn’t want to do it anymore. Consequences be damned, I’d find a way to deal with the aftermath when that time came.
Which it undoubtedly would.
“Rowan…” That one word came out like a plea, soft and breathy, full of need. We were so close I could see his eyes flare at just the sound of me saying his name. He wanted me. I wanted him. It was undeniable.
Then the curtain came crashing down on our moment.
“Mr. Locklaine, we’ve arrived,” the driver’s voice called across the intercom.
“Fuck,” he nearly growled as he pulled away, resting his back against the seat as he raked his hands through his hair. His words were mumbled, but I could understand them perfectly. “Fucking shit. Goddamn it.” And I couldn’t have agreed more.
His chest rose and fell on a deep breath as I tried to get my rapid heartbeat under control. I sucked in as much air as possible, coaxing myself with a silent in through your nose, out through your mouth. It took a few seconds, but I finally started to calm down. That was, until Rowan focused those darkened eyes on me.
“This isn’t over. Goddamn, this is so not fucking over.”
“I know.” The surprise that flashed across his face told me he’d been expecting a fight. Well, I wasn’t going to give him one.
“Tonight, after this is over. Come home with me.” It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t giving me any room to change my mind.
“O-okay,” I stuttered on a nod.
A slow, brain-shorting smile spread across his lips as he spoke a quiet, “Okay.”
He held on to my hand firmly as he guided me out of the limo, letting go once I was on my feet to rest his palm at the small of my back. The touch provided a sense of comfort as we walked into the Plaza Hotel where the gala was being held.
“Whoa,” I exhaled. “Talk about lifestyles of the rich and famous,” I whispered for only Rowan’s ears.
“This place will be packed with pretentious douchebags and narcissistic bastards.”
I turned my face up toward him and gave him a quick smile. “So, what you’re saying is you’ll fit in perfectly.”
“She’s got jokes.” He grinned, giving my side a pinch that caused me to let out a small yelp. Both of us laughed at the few disapproving looks from the people around us.
“So, tell me what to expect tonight,” I said as we walked into the ornately decorated ballroom. Yep, so out of my element.
Rowan led me to the bar closest to us, one of two on either side of the room. “Well, it’s going to be boring,” he started. “Mind numbingly boring. Cocktails and a silent auction followed by a dinner, where we’ll undoubtedly be stuck in conversations so dull you’ll want to stab your eardrums out with a butter knife.” He turned to me and gave a crooked grin as I sat on one of the available barstools. “That’s frown
ed upon, by the way. You’ll be tempted, but I suggest you keep all cutlery away from your ears.”
“Noted,” I giggled.
“During the dinner, someone—most likely a limp-dick politician who doesn’t give a shit about the charity—will drone on about all the reasons we should open our checkbooks and ask each of us to donate an amount that would be enough to buy a private island, all while purposefully sliding in comments as to what he or she is running for and why they’re the best choice for New York’s blah blah blah. Then they’ll announce the winners of the auction items, making sure to give the exact dollar amount, down to the penny, hoping to emasculate the rest of us who weren’t willing to fork out that much. Sprinkle in a shit-ton of schmoozing in between, and there’s your night.”
“Wow, you make it sound so appealing,” I responded sarcastically.
“Well, now you know why I hate coming to these things.”
The bartender came over for our drink order, a scotch on the rocks for Rowan, a gin and tonic for myself.
“So,” I asked a few minutes later, taking a fortifying sip of my drink as I turned to scan the room, “Are you telling me you have enough money to buy your own personal island?”
Rowan rested his side against the bar next to me, his elbow propped up casually as he brought his glass to his lips. I was momentarily mesmerized by the way his lips wrapped around the edge, how his throat bobbed when he swallowed. I had to give my head a quick shake to pull me from my stupor.
“Maybe a small one,” he teased. “What? You thinking of becoming a gold digger?”
“Nah, not really my style.” I scanned the room once more, taking in all the money that was wandering around—an ideal scene for people watching, honestly. I gave Rowan a cheeky grin. “But I’m sure you’d have no problem finding one here if you’re in the market.”
It was like perfect comedic timing—only not funny whatsoever—when an elegant, French-tipped hand snaked over Rowan’s shoulder just seconds before a surgically enhanced blonde plastered herself to his side.
Love Hate Relationship (a Colors novel) Page 13