by Jewel E. Ann
“Don’t answer it,” I mumbled into his mouth.
He ignored it as he pulled his suit coat back and shrugged it off his shoulders.
“God, I missed you today,” he breathed out as he grabbed my hair and gently tugged it until I tilted my chin up. His lips, tongue, and teeth ravished my exposed throat. His phone rang again.
“Fuck!” he growled as he grabbed it from his pocket. His brows knitted in frustration as he glanced at the screen. “What?” he answered, bringing it to his ear. “What picture?”
I pulled my hand from his pants and stepped back. He held his phone back out to look at the screen again. I peeked over the top of his hands to see what he was looking at. It was a photo of an ultrasound.
Back to reality.
I turned and walked to the kitchen. Throwing open the door to the refrigerator, I started taking out food to start dinner. I wasn’t sure what I was making, I just needed the distraction.
Deep breath … I am peaceful, I am strong.
Quinn tossed his phone by his keys and let out a deep breath. “Addy—”
“It’s fine, don’t … say anything. It’s just … fine.”
My body moved on instinct because my mind was in shambles. He came up behind me and pulled me against him. I paused.
“I’m sorry,” he softly whispered.
I closed my eyes as a few tears fell down my cheeks. Sucking in my top lip and biting it, I nodded.
He turned me to face him and kissed my tear stained cheeks. “Tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it. As long as I don’t lose you, I’ll do anything. Remember that time you asked me if I’d give it all up?”
I nodded.
“Well, I would. I’d give up everything for you. The money, my business … the baby, I’d walk away from it all right now for you.”
Swallowing back the huge lump in my throat, I smiled and wiped the lower lids of my eye with the tips of my fingers. “I know you would.” I laughed. “God, that’s why I love you so much.”
He hugged me to his chest and smoothed his hand down the back of my head. It was just one of many heartbreaking moments that would play out in our lives over the next year. I knew that I would need a little outside help to make it through.
*
After dinner we nestled on the couch and drank mint coconut milk hot chocolate in the midst of our very own winter wonderland.
“Have I mentioned today how much I love your elves?”
Quinn leaned in and licked some chocolate off my lips. “Nope.”
“Well, I do. In fact, I don’t want to leave this room until after Christmas.”
“That’s going to be pretty difficult. Have you seen our social calendar for the next few weeks?” He smiled.
“You mean your calendar because I can assure you I have absolutely nothing on mine, except fattening up on hot chocolate and cookies.”
When I was younger my parents used to parade me around to every social elite event in Chicago. Charities, parties, political gatherings, social fundraisers—you name it, I’d been to it. Over the years I had managed to scale down my social calendar to a need-to-only list of events. Basically, birthday parties, weddings, and Gwen and Richard’s anniversary party were all that occupied space on my calendar during the previous eight years.
Quinn rubbed his chin. “Hmm … whoever then will I take with me to see the holiday shows at Radio City Music Hall and The Metropolitan Opera House? Or A Christmas Story at Madison Square Gardens, or The Nutcracker at Hammerstein Ballroom, or The New York Pops at Isaac Stern Auditorium. Or Andrea Bocelli at Barclays Center? Gosh it’s such late notice, but I’m sure I can scrounge a date somewhere.”
“You do not seriously have tickets to all those shows?” I asked, squinting with equal parts disbelief and excited anticipation.
He shrugged his shoulders and sipped his drink. “What can I say? When I make very generous donations I receive the best seats to the best shows.”
Struggling to hold back my incredibly goofy yet jubilant smile, I casually replied, “I suppose I could forego PJs and cocoa for a few evenings—”
“Nope, no way … I will not have you sacrificing your holiday plans for mine,” he goaded.
Grabbing his mug and setting it by mine, I crawled onto his lap and straddled his legs. I kissed him with ardent fervor then bit his lower lip. “I see what you’re doing. You want me to beg, don’t you?”
Pleasure danced in his eyes and his answer was obvious.
“That’s fine, I’ll beg now, but if I do … I promise you’ll be the one begging later,” I whispered, inches from his lips, while I wiggled my hips over his growing arousal.
His whole face lit up, like I knew it would. Quinn was a competitor and never backed down from a challenge. My words were more of a playful threat, but he of course interpreted them as a challenge.
He had one response. “Beg me.”
Game. On!
I put on my best whiny “Quinny” voice and showered him with compliments and gratitude for offering to take me to such wonderful shows. He reached the top of his pedestal and agreed to take me just seconds before I nearly vomited from the sound of my own pathetic voice. Then, like the sly devil he was, he threw in that his corporate holiday party was in two days as well.
Peachy!
The ball was officially in my court, which meant I had a headache and was too tired or “under the weather” for sex over the next couple of days.
*
By Saturday Quinn was on edge, but he’d have rather jabbed an icepick through his eye than admit it. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t gone a few days without sex before. When my monthly friend arrived, we took a break for the first two days. I would mope around all grumpy, wearing baggy clothes that said “stay the hell away,” but usually by the third day my mood was better and he made a good case for shower sex that I rarely could refuse. Going without sex, however, was completely different for him when I wasn’t having my period and I wasn’t wearing the equivalent of a potato sack. It was quite the opposite. I wore my tightest pants and shirts, the ones that showed the most cleavage, and that was just during the day. At night I dug out my sexiest lingerie, most of which either hadn’t been worn or only worn once. Ironically, Quinn was also the cleanest guy in Manhattan by the weekend, having taken numerous cold showers throughout each evening. I took no pity on him because he was the king of his own palace, the controller of his own destiny. He could have had his way with me at any time, all he had to do was––beg me.
His holiday party wasn’t until later that night. He spent extra time working out that morning. I didn’t see him until well after lunch. When he arrived home he shot me a quick smile before heading upstairs.
“Where you going, babe?” I called out.
“Shower,” was all he said without stopping.
I had an appointment scheduled at an organic spa and salon later that afternoon to get my hair and makeup done, as well as a mani and pedi. However, I did need a shower before leaving. Smiling to myself, I ran up the stairs, nearly tripping, and stripped off my clothes. When I entered the huge shower Quinn paused.
“Get out.”
“I can’t, sweetie. I need to get a quick shower before I head to the salon,” I said in a fake-innocent voice while fluttering my eyes lashes.
“Well, there are two other bathrooms,” he blurted out, trying to stop me with his words.
Moving closer, I brushed in front of him allowing my nipples to graze against his chest as I reached for my shampoo. “I know, but all my stuff is in here,” I replied, licking the water from my lips as I rolled my eyes up to meet his.
“I’m not falling for this,” he sternly replied.
Stepping back, I squeezed the shampoo into my hand and started lathering up my hair. His feral eyes slid over my body as I worked the soap down my neck and over my chest, slowly kneading my breasts. “Oh, I know you’re not falling for this.” I smiled. “Actually, just the opposite. In fact, I’d bet a thousand d
ollars you’re rising to the occasion.”
He turned his back to me and adjusted the water a few degrees cooler. More like ten! So I stepped up behind him, pressing my chest to his back. Then I slid my hands around and rubbed soap on his chest just briefly before moving my hand lower to his still firm cock. He jerked at my touch then tilted his head back slightly, releasing a tense moan as I stroked him a few times.
After standing under the water long enough for the soap to rinse off of my body, I released his erection and slapped him on the ass.
“Cash is fine.”
Before I stepped out of the shower, I snuck one last glance over my shoulder at him. His back was still to me but his head was bowed with his chin at his chest. He had one hand on the wall bracing himself as the other adjusted the temperature––to straight cold.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
When I arrived home from the spa, Quinn was already dressed in his tux. Ho-ly. Shit. Talk about spontaneous orgasm. Before he had a chance to comment on my hair or my schoolgirl reaction to him, I bolted to the closet and told him to stay out while I dressed.
After twenty minutes or so, his voice echoed from the bedroom. “How long does it take to put on a dress? I’ll be downstairs.”
Purchasing a new dress for the holiday party was not on my agenda … until Quinn pulled me into a crazy standoff. I blamed it on him, but it was obvious my ego was just as bullheaded as his. The dress I picked out was a bit out of my comfort zone, but perfect for the night’s mission. It was a full-length black dress with a plunging neckline that almost reached my navel. The back was exposed except for the two thin spaghetti straps that crisscrossed over it. The front of the mermaid silhouette skirt had a high slit. Quinn had seen me wear some fairly provocative dresses, much to his equal arousal and disapproval, but none quite compared to this.
After strapping on my ridiculously high heels, I took one more glance in the mirror. The stylist straightened my hair, which made it look much longer than it usually did. It was simple, sleek, and, according to everyone at the salon, “runway model sexy.” Two words I didn’t need to hear: runway model. Satisfied with the unfamiliar, yet kind of hot, reflection, I walked to the stairs and stopped at the top. Quinn’s back was to me as he messed with his phone.
“Ahem …”
He turned and the blood drained from his face. “No. Fucking. Way. Go change.”
Lifting the skirt of my dress with one hand and holding the railing with my other, I carefully navigated down the stairs.
“Addy, I’m serious. There’s no way I’m allowing you to wear that tonight.”
Originally, I had thought the “No. Fucking. Way. Go. Change” was Quinn’s backward potty-mouth compliment, but by the time I reached the bottom of the stairs, all the color had returned to his face, tenfold.
“Allowing? What are you, my dad?”
“I don’t think you understand. This gala is a who’s who of Manhattan’s high society. I’m talking prominent businessmen, politicians, and even a few celebrities.”
“Gala? You told me we were going to your corporate holiday party.”
“It is … just a little more extravagant than what you’re probably used to.”
Oh really?
“How many presidents have you met?”
He looked at me confused. “One.”
“I’ve met three. How many state dinners at the White House have you attended?”
“None.”
“I’ve attended five. So I don’t know what you think I’m used to, but I do know I’m not going to be awestruck by any businessman, politician, or celebrity at your little holiday shindig tonight. And I’m quite certain I don’t give a damn if people like my dress.”
“It’s not about people liking your dress. It’s about drawing unwanted attention,” he growled.
Grabbing my wrap and clutch purse, I headed out the door. “Who said anything about not wanting attention?”
*
The gala was at one of Quinn’s hotels in the Grand Ball Room on the top floor. As promised, there were plenty of famous faces in the crowd. Quinn may have not been the richest person in New York, but he sure was popular. As we entered the hotel, he leaned down and whispered in my ear, “I’m going to request they turn the thermostat down, so you should leave on your wrap.”
I smiled with a nice roll of my eyes as we entered the elevator. “I’m feeling pretty hot tonight, so I don’t foresee it being an issue.”
“You’re just trying to start a fight,” he grumbled.
“Babe, I don’t want to fight with you.”
“I’m not talking about us. I’m talking about me and any guy who looks at you.”
The elevator chimed at the top floor. “Don’t get your panties in a bind, Mr. Cohen … unless you’re not wearing any, like me.”
“Mother Fuc—”
“There he is!” Zach called as we exited the elevator. He wrapped one arm over Quinn’s shoulders. “Great party, man. You have the best planners in town.”
“Thanks, my elves are the best.” He smirked.
Zach let go of Quinn and stepped in front of us. “Holy shit, Addy! Your dress is—”
“Elegant? Completely appropriate for the occasion?” I quickly cut him off.
His eyes went from my dress to Quinn’s face and in an instant his smile was gone. “It’s … nice. You look lovely. I think I’m going to find Eden. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Ease up with the death grip on my hand, caveman!” I gritted through my fake smile.
“Your fucking dress is going to ruin my night,” he snapped back. His twitching jaw was working overtime.
“Your pent up sexual frustration being held hostage by your stubborn ego is the only thing that’s going to ruin your night. Now, I’m going to mingle and check out the food situation. When you decide you’re ready to “beg me,” you know where to find me. Just look for a crowd of men, I’ll be in the middle.”
Yanking my hand from his, I weaved my way through the massive sea of people. Had Quinn not insisted on taking the caveman approach, I would have told him how incredible everything looked. The glass elevator opened in the center of the Grand Ball Room to the most spectacular panoramic view of Manhattan. The room looked like a beautiful iced winter wonderland. Tables and chairs scattered throughout the room were dressed in silver and ice blue. Large glass vases were filled with blue glass Christmas ornaments and iced twig branches. The delicate crystal glassware sparkled from the hundreds of votives scattered on the tables. There were at least a dozen Christmas trees with blue and white lights. The incandescent lighting was a mix of white and blue. Every pillar and every chair was wrapped in elaborate blue and silver ribbons and bows. Several large snowflake ice sculptures were illuminated with blue lights. A live band played holiday music while servers filtered through the crowd with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres. The men were dressed in elegant tuxes and tailored suits while the women accented them in a rainbow of colored formal gowns and cocktail dresses.
Large men in suits with earpieces guarded every exit, keeping the room full of high society’s elite safe from … probably the middle class they screwed to get where they were. In some other life I would have been impressed by my surroundings, like Cinderella at the ball.
“Adler?”
I turned at the sound of my name. “Edward.” I smiled warmly.
“Wow, look at you all grown up. What has it been, ten … fifteen years?”
“Almost nine, it was at my parents’ …” I sucked in a deep breath, surprising even myself as to how difficult it was to say the words out loud.
“Funeral. Yes, I’m so sorry. You know your father was like a brother to me. I can’t believe they never got a break in the case. It still angers me to this day that they called it a home invasion. Somebody knew something.”
With a grim twist of my mouth, I somberly replied, “Yeah, somebody knows something, but justice or not, it won’t bring them back.”
&n
bsp; A large warm hand rested on the small of my bare back as Edward’s eyes focused behind me.
“Senator Carlson, glad you could make it.” Quinn’s deep voice filled my ears.
“Mr. Cohen, my pleasure.”
The two men shook hands while Quinn’s left hand stayed planted in a possessive claim on me.
“I see you’ve met Addy,” Quinn said as his fingertips circled my skin, sending a rush of heat through my entire body.
“Actually, I’ve known Adler her whole life. I went to law school with her father.”
Quinn’s head flinched back as he narrowed his eyes. “Hmm, I thought your father was in investment banking?”
Before I could answer Edward continued, “He was, but only after eight years as a prosecuting attorney, followed by a twelve year term as an Illinois Supreme Court Justice. He decided to try his hand at banking like his father. He was a damn fine attorney but even better investment banker; nearly tripling his net worth in six months.”
The gleam in Quinn’s eyes and the satisfied smile on his face said he was impressed. “I had no idea. Addy doesn’t talk much about money or her family’s wealth.”
“Well, it’s not her family’s wealth anymore. It’s hers, all of it,” he replied with a slow shake of his head. The subtle gesture was odd. It didn’t have the sympathetic vibe with which he spoke just a few moments earlier, which made me wonder if it was more disbelief or maybe disapproval in the way I’d handled, or ignored, my inheritance.
“If you’ll both excuse me, I’m feeling parched.” I smiled politely while touching my hand to my throat.
“Of course, my dear.” Edward nodded. “It was really lovely to see you again after so long.”
“Thank you, the feeling is mutual.” As I turned to leave, Quinn’s hand slid from my back to my wrist.
“Enjoy the party, Senator, so glad you could make it.” Then releasing his grip on my wrist he slid his hand down to interlace our fingers as he pulled me into his arms. “Senator Carlson has known you for years, yet he made you uncomfortable. Why?”