by Lisa Swallow
Not me.
24
RILEY
Annie watches me with a small tug to her brow as I tidy papers into a file.
“I thought you avoided all things Ruby Riot,” she says.
“This is a tour wrap up, and I want to sit in on the meeting and check the feedback too.” Panic crosses her face and I place a hand on her arm. “All good, you know that. But they’re one of the top accounts, and I need to show my face.”
If only she knew, I was more nervous than her. Palm sweating, toilet visiting nervous that I’ll say or do something to give away what’s happening with Nate and me. Due to our mismatching schedules, I haven’t seen him for a week and every night I’ve woken up from dreams about us in sharing a bed in Yorkshire. I never stay at his place and I long to wake up in his arms again, to have that moment where I’m held between waking and sleep, in the best dream
I don’t have any choice. I always sit in on major client meetings with juniors, and if I excuse myself from this one, the whispered rumours will start again. Jenna hinted she knew what she almost saw between Nate and me and I had difficulty hiding the truth. A shocked Jenna is sworn to secrecy, but I’m not 100 percent sure on her discretion. My excuse that Nate visited me to straighten his story before meeting Annie is received doubtfully.
The four band members wait in one of the boardrooms. Ruby’s surly face beneath her heavy make-up greets me. So does Jax’s indifference. Will rests back in his seat, boots on the table and waves as I come in.
“Riley! How’s it going?” he calls.
At least one person greets me with more than a look or nod.
Nate focuses on a pattern he draws on the table with a finger and ignores me. I swallow and sit far away from him. Annie places herself next to him and I watch for Nate’s reaction. He glances up, pays attention to her breasts for a few seconds, then looks out of the window.
“Will this take long?” asks Ruby.
“Half an hour if you cooperate,” I say with a smile, but I’m half-serious. “I need feedback on a few things from you guys directly. I’ve spoken to the tour management; but at the end of the day, you’re the clients.”
None of them speak. “Annie?” I ask.
She clears her throat and launches into a prepared speech about how she felt things went, areas she was concerned about, and a too long rundown of events. Even I join the band in glazing over as her speech takes a direct path into rambling.
I concentrate on calming myself as I scribble circles on my pad, but I’m hyperaware of Nate. I look up and straight into his eyes on more than one occasion, and we both look away. Once, I meet Will’s eyes; he throws a teasing smile and looks to his brother
If anybody is likely to catch onto us, he will.
“Riley?”
“Mmm?” Annie holds her file up, her blonde bob touching her pink cheeks and the panic not receding in her eyes. “Oh, right. Thanks, Annie. That all sounded good.” Crap, I didn’t hear most of it. “So, any feedback?” I ask, snapping away from staring at Nate’s hands and remembering the skilful things he can do with them.
Blank faces stare back.
“Nobody?” I ask.
“I had an issue,” pipes up Will.
I pick my pen up. “What issue?”
“My backstage demands were refused.”
“That’s an issue for you and Fleur, not Riley,” says Nate with a laugh.
“No.” He straightens. “I asked for M&Ms with all the blue ones taken out, and the water imported from France in those fancy bottles, and the oxygen tank, and the—” His brother smacks him across the back of the head.
“Hilarious, Will,” mutters Ruby.
He throws his arms in the air. “If I was Jax, you’d do whatever I asked!”
“Nobody gets special treatment,” I say and put the pen down.
“Uh huh.” Will’s hands rest on the table in front of him and he subtly points a finger sideways at Nate. “Nobody?”
“Nobody,” I repeat.
I hold his gaze keeping my face as straight as possible. He’s as good as his brother at staring matches, and he won’t win them either.
“How was the trip?” asks Jax, catching onto the situation with a smile. “I heard you and Nate had fun.”
I grit my teeth. Help me out here, Nate. “We didn’t spend a lot of time together.”
“What? Trapped in a pub? Nate, did Riley get drunk? I bet that was funny,” asks Jax.
Nate stands. “We done?”
Will jumps up too and wraps an arm around Nate’s shoulders. “Beers! Let’s celebrate. Jax?”
“Celebrate what?” I ask.
“Freedom from you guys for a few months.”
“I don’t know.” Annie looks at me for permission.
“Sure you do! Riley will come, won’t you?” Will’s grin grows.
“Don’t leave me on my own,” mutters Annie under her breath.
Nate and me continue not to look at each other. Is this more obvious than if we do?
“Count me out,” replies Ruby and stands. “We done here?”
“Sure. Thanks for coming,” I say.
“Yeah. Not a problem.” Ruby leaves and Jax remains seated, swinging his chair back and forth.
“Where we going?” he asks.
“The Observatory” replies Will.
My blood freezes. As if things couldn’t worsen, now we’re going to the bar Nate and me met in.
“I’m not sure…” I begin.
“Great! Let’s go.” Will shoves Nate who stumbles towards the door.
“I’ll call Tegan,” says Jax and whips his phone from his pocket.
NATE
This is the first time I’ve visited The Observatory since the night I met Riley. If you could call that a meeting. More a spark of lust on my account. Then I saw her as a casual hook up opportunity, but for the first time in months, a girl chatted to me without her intentions obvious. Oh yeah, I could see Riley was attracted to me, but she didn’t act on it. Weirdly, she stuck in my mind afterwards. Maybe because she didn’t offer herself to me, maybe because the spark was also one of connection. Who knew we’d end up in this situation?
The evening turns into a night out for SMC PR too, as word about drinks with Ruby Riot spread around the office. Not many of them, a couple of other girls and a guy. I don’t pay much attention, until the guy starts paying attention to Riley.
Then I recognise the guy. Mitchell, the Yank I met at Riley’s office. He’s friendly, has a professional air he doesn’t drop, the same way Riley sticks in work mode too. Short dark hair, still business suited despite the fact it’s the evening. Like Riley. Will and Jax stand next to me talking, but I don’t listen to them. I’m too busy watching Riley’s response to Mitchell. He makes her smile, even laugh, and he’s all eyes for her.
This is bullshit.
I retreat to talking to Will, and between us, we give a rundown of the girls passing. Will does this less these days, but get a few beers in him, and he’s happy to help me with comparisons. He swears he wouldn’t do anything, and I believe him, but old habits die hard. Will claims a look, don’t touch approach, but I suspect he’s playing along with me.
Is Riley deliberately attempting to piss me off? She ignores me totally, which is fair enough and part of our deal, but she doesn’t need to flirt with someone else. Is she flirting? Mitchell chats to a few of the girls, but as the evening progresses, he spends the most time talking to Riley.
An unfamiliar feeling seethes in the pit of my stomach. Jealousy. Riley’s mine. But she isn’t. She is. Fuck. What is she? What are we? Each time we meet, each evening exploring each other’s needs and bonding physically, and the emotion sneaks in with it. The bond between us didn’t melt away with the snow, and it never has.
When Mitchell touches Riley’s hand and she doesn’t move her fingers, I tense and will her to look around. Her eyes remain cast down.
I shift from beer to whisky, and size up other girls aga
Two hours and not once has she looked at me.
Anger pushes past the irritation. She doesn’t get to do this to me.
Riley’s ass sways beneath her tight, black skirt as she heads in the direction of the bathrooms. Will talks to Jax, and Tegan talks to one of the agency girls. I hesitate for what I hope is long enough, then slip from my seat and follow Riley into the shadows.
A bright silver sign in the narrow hallway points to the bathrooms, and I stand opposite the Ladies, arms crossed, waiting. A girl passing double takes; the guys and me already draw attention, and now I’m on my own, I’m likely to attract more. When the chick’s face registers interest, I look away before she approaches. Her heels click past on the tiles and I wrinkle my nose. Not my type, anyway. Too short.
Riley steps through the heavy black door from the Ladies and stops as she notices me. “What are you doing?”
“Waiting for you.” Riley. Tall, sexy as fuck in her prim and proper work gear; the shirt tucked into her skirt accentuates her small waist. Riley plays with an earring the way she does when she’s nervous. All my self-control focuses on not putting my hands on her curves and pressing her against the wall. Is she somehow hotter because somebody else wants her? I assumed Riley was mine, when I don’t have her at all.
She moistens her lips. “What if somebody sees?”
“I’m allowed to use the bathrooms too, doesn’t mean I’m looking for you.”
“Not a good idea.” Riley steps past me and I grab her arm. “Nate, don’t.”
“Mitchell’s pissing me off.” I pull her closer. “Are you flirting with him? Going home with him tonight?”
She drags her arm away. “No. I’m not. We agreed; no sex with other people while we’re… doing this.”
“Why let him touch you? Trying to make me jealous?” My voice hardens; the frustration mounting as I fight against taking hold of her again.
“What? Don’t be ridiculous! I’m not some stupid teenager.” She crosses her arms, the action swelling her breasts further against the shirt. “And stop staring at my tits.”
My mouth quirks into a smile. “Why?”
Riley makes an exasperated noise. “We should leave.”
“Good idea.” I edge closer. “Back to mine.”
“I meant back to the group.”
Riley doesn’t move and I glance around before sliding a hand to squeeze her ass. She trips as I pull her hard into my hips. “Stay here.”
Riley puts her hand on my chest, preventing me moving any closer. “Going to try your luck in the bathrooms again, Nate? That doesn’t work out for you, does it?”
“True.” I take her hand and, with a quick scout around, drag her around the nearby corner and away from public view. The quiet, carpeted hallway stops a few metres away, in front of a door with a light shining from inside.
Perfect.
“Nate,” she hisses.
I seize Riley’s chin in one hand and close my mouth over hers. The small noise she makes before she clings to my neck has me slamming her against the wall. I pull her shirt from inside her skirt, desperate to touch the skin of my girl. Mine. The girl who that guy is not getting his hands on. Riley tries to move and I wind my hand into her hair, holding her head so she can’t move her mouth from mine.
Riley struggles against me, and when I refuse to stop, she nips my lip. Hard. “What the hell are you doing?” she breathes.
I touch my lip. “Couldn’t resist.”
“Someone could walk around the corner any second!”
Whatever Riley says, the look on her face reflects exactly what I want. This is a “not here,” rather than a “no.”
“Good point.” I curl my hand around Riley’s wrist and, with one last glance around, pull her to the nearby room.
Inside the small room, large cardboard boxes are stacked around and the only light comes from a tall, glass-fronted refrigerator filled with wine bottles. The music from the bar fades as I slam the door shut behind us and back Riley to the other side of the room.
I wait for the protest I’ll ignore, but she suppresses a laugh. “What are you doing?”
“Do you need to ask me that question?” I press her against the tall stack of boxes. Her lips meet mine again, the ones I’ve watched and fantasised about all night. The ones I fantasise about all the time.
Riley’s fucking done it. She’s got me. The sooner I admit this to myself, the better.
I lift Riley onto the stack of boxes, and she wraps her legs around my waist, returning my kiss with the same ferocity. Bare legs. Easy access. Fuck. I slip my hand along her bare thigh, and my fingers beneath the silk panties. “Black?” I murmur.
“What?”
“What colour are you wearing?”
She laughs again. “Does it matter?”
“No. But still.”
I pull her skirt up to her waist, and look down at her where the fridge casts light across us. “Black.”
Riley parts her lips and grabs my belt loop. “Don’t waste time.”
I press my hard length against the heat between her legs, no other thought in my head but removing the barrier between us. “Don’t intend to.”
I can’t read her face in the dim light cast by the refrigerator, but Riley’s eyes shine. I slide a hand around to the small of her back.
“Do you like him?”
“Who?”
“Mitchell or whatever the hell his name is.”
“Why?”
I jerk Riley’s chin up and pull her bottom lip down with my thumb. “Because I don’t want another man’s hands on you.”
“I don’t want his hands on me,” she replies, her voice hoarse.
“Glad to fucking hear it,” I growl and crash my mouth against hers, claiming her. Mine. She’s fucking mine. Riley’s legs tighten around me and I shift my hand, slipping a finger into the edge of her panties. She pulls her head away and meets my eyes, mouth parted, breath speeding to match mine. I slowly push a finger into her, watching her eyes flutter closed.
I push my hips against my hand, covering her as Riley’s small hands come between us, pulling at my zip. In a breath of a moment, she frees my cock.
I groan, moving my fingers inside her, stroking the soft spot, but all I want is her. More kissing. Always kissing. Years of refusing to be immersed in every sensation, and with Riley, I can’t stop. I push her damp underwear to one side. Do I go down on her? Try my luck with screwing her here?
Riley shifts. “Do it,” she murmurs and guides my length to the edge of her pussy. “Nate.”
Like I ever need asking twice. Flexing, I push into and fill Riley, holding myself at the hilt. Riley surrounds me, not just here, but her scent, her heat, her everything. I pull back slowly, looking at her closed eyes and parted mouth. So. Fucking. Hot. I slam into her, hard and her hands go to my ass, holding onto me as I grip her thighs.
Riley matches my movement. “Harder,” she breathes out. “Now.”
We’re in tune, a song our bodies sing together; a strange harmony created the first time. I recognise subtleties in her breathing and movements; I know when she’s close, and that’s a fucking good thing because the urgency of the situation has me close to coming with each sound and movement from her.
She grasps me and tips her head back, and I watch her face drop the rest of her guard and become my Riley as she tightens around me, the signal I need as I gather pace. Riley’s nails dig into the small of my back and she buries her face in my neck, muffling her cries; and the smug bastard I am gets off on the fact I do this to her. I bet Mitchell bloody Corporate Clone couldn’t make Riley come this hard and as fast. I join her, another of the insane orgasms I get from Riley, as the sensation bursts from her and through every lit up nerve in my body. She’s turning into a full on fucking addiction.
In the dim, we may be hidden, but each time this intense moment at the edge of everything happens, the more of who we are breaks out.
I rest my head against hers, and our breathing slows together. Riley strokes my damp cheek with the tips of her fingers. “Were you jealous, Nate?” she whispers.
Without answering, I straighten her clothes and she flinches as my fingertips trail over her sensitive sex. The kisses become softer, tender, as I savour the woman who not only started my heart beating again, but also has sent it careering into hers.
And that fucking terrifies me.
“Good thing nobody needed a crate of beer,” I say with a grin.
She snaps her head to the door. “They might do, we should leave.”
As I zip myself away, we kiss again, sharing the thrill of not being caught. Riley runs her tongue along my lip once more. “I’m going to get cleaned up.”
And she’s gone. I rest against the boxes and the thoughts rattle around my head. Playing things down and fooling myself I can walk away from Riley when our time is up becomes less of an option every day.
My choices are either walk away now or follow this through and we tell the world. Mitchell, tonight, proved walking away is no longer an option. I want to possess this woman, the way she has a hold on me, and there’s only one way I can stop another man taking my place.
And a huge part of me doesn’t want to take that option.
25
RILEY
Keeping Nate at arm’s length is harder each day as he pushes nearer. With this, the day I tell him about Josh grows closer. Nate won’t take the news well, nor am I fooling myself that he’ll turn into a fairy-tale boyfriend who’ll love my son and me.
The reason I haven’t told Nate is that the sex might stop. Is that bad? Yes. But I can’t get enough of him; and whatever else is happening here, there’s a mutual understanding we don’t step further. So, why does he need to know? Why not just enjoy this for now, and when he moves on, it won’t matter?
The problem is we are stepping further. The days are running out until I have no choice but to tell him about Josh. If I do, I’m exposed and the rejection I’ve feared from the world if I admit who I am will be sharpened by his reaction to me.
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