Say You're Mine: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Southport Love Stories Book 4)

by Sarah J. Brooks

  “You don’t mean that. You need me. How will you take care of your family? You like that nice apartment don’t you? All the things I do for you?” she purred, touching me again. Her hands sliding inside my pants. “We have a good thing, you and me. I do things for you,” she squeezed my junk with experienced fingers, “you do things for me.” She took my hand and placed it on her breast. “Now stop all this nonsense and make me feel good, Robbie.”

  I ripped her hand from my pants and moved away from her. “This is all about control for you. And you choose men—boys really—who don’t know any better. You made me think you cared about me.” I shook my head. “I was such an idiot.”

  Tiffany looked stricken; she was a hell of a good actress. “Robbie, I do care about you. I love you. So much. I don’t know what I’ll do if you leave me. I won’t be able to bear it.” She turned on the waterworks, her lovely face crumpling.

  “I know you’re not wearing that get up for me, Tiff, so stop with the tears. They won’t work,” I said coldly, and just like that, she stopped crying.

  She wiped her face, instantly sobering. “Fine. But you can’t walk away until I tell you that you can. We have an arrangement. I would hate for your poor, sweet mother to know where all that cash came from.”

  There it was. The threats.

  I advanced on her and got in her face. But not in the way she expected or wanted. She cowered slightly in the face of my anger. “You will leave my family alone. You will leave me alone. After I walk out that door I never want to see you again, Tiffany. And if you contact any of my family that can be construed as harassment. I’ve passed the bar, I’m an attorney now. I know the laws. And I know how to make them work for me.” I wasn’t going to be played by her any longer. “I will have my stuff out of your apartment by the end of the day. I’ll leave the keys with the doorman.”

  Sick of looking at her, I turned to leave.

  “Don’t go, Robbie. Please,” she called out, sounding slightly desperate. I ignored her.

  When I opened the door, a guy stood there. He looked bewildered at the sight of me. He was Tiffany’s type. Good looking and young. “Uh, hello? Is Tiffany here?” he asked, trying to peer around me.

  “Go on in. But let me give you a word of warning, my friend. She’s a snake. And she’ll ruin you if you let her.” The guy frowned, clearly in the early lovesick days of their acquaintance. Poor fool.

  Without another word, I left it all behind.

  **

  “If you lovelies wouldn’t mind, I’d love to catch up with my old friend for a few minutes. It’s been a long time.” Tiffany leveled me with a long, scorching look. “Too long.”

  Adam, Jeremy, and Lena shared a look. “Of course,” Lena said, already backing out of my office.

  “Thank you again for choosing our law firm to handle your business. We hope you’ve been satisfied with the service you received,” Adam added, always thinking of the business.

  Tiffany smiled her secret smile. “I’ve been very satisfied so far. And I hope this is only the beginning of a long, fruitful relationship.”

  Jeremy raised an eyebrow but kept quiet and the two of them left, closing the office door behind them.

  I purposefully kept the desk between us as a barrier. I didn’t want the she-wolf any closer. “What the hell do you want, Tiffany?” I demanded, my voice hard.

  Her face softened. “Robbie, it’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you. So much.” She stepped closer. “You look good. Really good.” She licked her lips and let her eyes do a long, slow perusal.

  “You didn’t answer my question. What are you doing in Southport? What game are you playing?” I shoved my hands into my pockets, so I didn’t reach across the desk and throttle her.

  Tiffany shrugged, running a finger along the edge of my desk, looking around the room. “I like Southport. It’s quaint. And ripe for development. I’ve been...diversifying over the years.”

  “And you just happened to choose the town I now live in? Come on, what kind of moron do you take me for?” I snarled.

  She started pulling books off the shelf, thumbing through them. “Oh, I know you’re not a moron, Robbie. It’s one of the things I always loved about you.” She stalked toward me, coming around the desk, inching her body until she invaded my personal space.

  I didn’t retreat, I didn’t want to give her that power, but I hated how close she was. It made me sick inside.

  She pressed her hand to my chest. “I’ve missed you.” I opened my mouth to argue with her, but she stopped me. “I mean it. I’ve missed you so much over the years. I’m getting older—I know I don’t look it,” she giggled. “But a woman realizes there comes a point where she wants real companionship. Someone to share her life with.” She pressed her thigh against my leg.

  “And that lucky someone is me?” My words dripped with sarcasm.

  Tiffany frowned. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

  “It’s been nearly ten years. You’re telling me that there’s not another man in all that time you could latch onto like a barnacle? Instead, you had to chase down someone who made it painfully clear he wanted nothing to do with you ever again? Does that sound like something a sane person would do?” I moved to the other side of the desk. The smell of her perfume was nauseating.

  “Robbie, what you and I had was special—”

  “It was twisted and messed up is what it was. Special isn’t an adjective to use to describe anything about what you and I shared.”

  Tiffany’s face darkened. “Well, I’m here now. And I plan to make myself at home. Old friends are important when you’re making a huge change in your life.”

  Was she serious?

  “We’re not friends, Tiffany,” I reminded her.

  “We used to be, and I expect us to be again.” She picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder. She smiled again as if the fraught exchange hadn’t happened. “Don’t be a stranger. I bought a big, beautiful house in town. I’d love to show it to you. Come by some time. I’ll make you dinner. Is chicken parmigiana still your favorite?” She opened the office door, stopped, and blew me a kiss. “I’ll be seeing you soon.”

  I had been around the block enough times to know a threat when I heard one.

  Chapter Seven

  Skylar

  The sunroom was awash with every color in the rainbow. I sipped my first coffee of the morning and soaked it in. The stained glass window added so much to the room. It diffused the light in such a way that the entire space was warm and comforting. It was funny how such a small addition could transform the room. And it felt so much more special because of the man who had given it to me.

  Even though I had spent the subsequent seven days denying like hell that I felt that way. But it was hard to ignore how thoughtful the gift was. Damn Robert Jenkins. Damn him to hell.

  It had been overall an uneventful, yet busy week. My day of playing hooky had resulted in an extra pile of work for the week afterward. I had clients breathing down my neck for mock-ups and proofs. And then Adam called wanting to know if I would swing by later in the week to talk about the digital ads he had mentioned at his house.

  I should have been ecstatic at the way business was booming. While I was happy I had successfully carved out a little space for myself in the world, there this nagging ache deep in my heart.

  And it had everything to do with that stupid stained glass window.

  I dropped my feet on the floor and stood up, walking to the kitchen sink, and rinsing out my mug. I absently scratched Edgar behind the ears, ignoring the drool that dropped on my bare feet.

  Whitney said I wasn’t being fair to Rob. That I couldn’t expect the guy to spill his guts after only really knowing me for a few months. But that wasn’t it. She wasn’t there. She hadn’t been in the moment when I had truly felt we were on the cusp of something deep and important.

  She hadn’t known how close I had been to handing him everything.

  **

&nb
sp; It had been a couple of weeks since our almost hook-up and I was feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable. Emotions didn’t sit well with me at the best of times; add a healthy dose of shame and I was a mess.

  But Robert had called me the very next day and the day after that he brought Chinese food and we watched my favorite Bruce Lee movie, The Way of the Dragon. I had started to almost forget that he had run out of my house so fast that you would have thought his ass was on fire.

  I had told him I would make dinner and my kitchen was a mess. The contractors had only finished the sunroom two days before and I still had a lot of cleaning and organizing to do, but I wanted to do this for him.

  It was Robert who had called a friend of his in the city who had his own building crew. Mike had come out and given me a quote to build the sunroom. A ridiculously cheap quote. When Mike told me the number I gaped in shock and asked him if he had hit his head on the way over. Mike laughed and I noted, not for the first time since he arrived, how astoundingly good-looking he was. Like male model good looking, if not a little too tall for my tastes.

  “Consider it a friend rate,” he had said.

  I looked at him as if he were speaking gibberish. “But you don’t know me.”

  “I know Robbie and if you’re a friend of his, then you’re a friend of mine.” He gave me a smile that most women would have melted over.

  “That’s more than generous even for a friend of a friend rate,” I argued.

  Mike put his pen back in his shirt pocket and picked up his car keys ready to head out. “I knew Robbie during a real low point in my life. He was a good friend. He looked out for me. I knew that if I was ever in a position, I’d return the favor. So, this is me, returning the favor. He told me you were special, that’s all I need to hear.” He pulled his baseball cap down low over his ears. “I’ll send you a design to approve in the next few days.”

  His story about Robert had only solidified what I already knew, this was one amazing man.

  I was making chicken parmigiana. I recalled him saying that it used to be his favorite when he was a kid. I was no cook, but I could navigate my way around a kitchen and aside from the splashes of tomato sauce on the wall, I thought I had done a good job.

  So why was I feeling like a basket case?

  Robert showed up half an hour later, a six-pack of beer in hand and a bundle of wildflowers. “You didn't seem like the kind of woman to like roses,” he observed.

  “And you’d be right.” I took the flowers and took him back to the kitchen.

  “It smells amazing in here,” he said as we walked down the hallway.

  “I’m trying my hand at chicken parmigiana. I hope I don’t serve food poisoning as a side dish,” I teased.

  He put his hand on my lower back and pulled me in close for a moment, his lips on my forehead. “I haven’t had a good chicken parm in years. Thank you.”

  I felt warm all over. “I didn’t say it would be good.”

  He laughed and I could feel his lips, his breath, against my skin. “I’m sure it will be amazing, like everything you do.”

  He followed me into the kitchen and let out a low whistle. “Damn, Mikey did a great job.” He turned to me. “Are you happy with it?”

  “So much. I can’t thank you again, Robert. I’ve never had anything so beautiful in my whole life. I’m already thinking I want to buy some framed stained glass to hang from that large window.” I pointed to the glass behind him. “I just think it would be beautiful in the morning with colors shining in.”

  “That would make it perfect,” he agreed.

  When dinner was finished, we sat down and ate. Robert devoured the pasta dish, saying it was the best he’d had in years. I thought maybe he’d tell me about the last time he had his favorite food, but he didn’t. Our conversation stayed light. We laughed about a man who had come into the law office wanting someone to represent his pet duck.

  “He stated that the duck was being harassed by the goose down the street.” Robert laughed, and I cracked up.

  I shared the latest designs I had been working on for a client. “You’re incredibly talented, Sky.” He kissed my temple.

  And then we sat down to watch some Bruce Lee. We had barely made it past the credits when we were all over each other. His hands were up my shirt, my tongue in his mouth. Clothes were quickly discarded, and I was straddling him, grinding against his very large, very impressive erection.

  “God, Sky, you’re fucking amazing,” he groaned into my mouth, his palms cupping my breasts. I arched into him as his thumbs circled my nipples. This was happening. Finally.

  “Touch me,” I begged into his mouth and this time, he obliged. He slithered his hand between us, finding the warm, wet spot between my legs. I was wearing only a pair of cotton underwear; I had had to look hard for a pair without holes in them. I wasn’t used to wearing pretty panties. If they were actually going to be seen regularly, I was going to have to do something about that.

  Robert deftly pulled the material aside and ran his fingers along my slit. “You’re so wet, Jesus you feel good,” he murmured, his mouth sucking along the underside of my jaw as he slowly, carefully eased two fingers inside me. It had been a long time since anyone had touched down there, and I was tight as hell. “God,” he moaned, low and deep as he thrust his fingers as deep as they could go, his thumb pressing my clit.

  “Oh, my fucking god,” I yelled as he began to work me over with my hand. I could hear him chuckling against my skin.

  “You like that, baby?” he rasped.

  “Can’t you tell?” I panted, moving against his palm as he finger fucked the hell out of me.

  A few minutes later I was a quivering mess as an orgasm unlike anything I had ever experienced rocked my body. Mac didn’t know what he was doing half the time and I usually had to finish the job myself. I could tell that wouldn’t be a problem with Robert. He knew exactly where to touch, where to kiss, what to do to make me lose my mind.

  “I want to make you feel good too,” I said when I could get my voice back.

  “This is all about you, Sky. I like making you feel good.” I wanted to argue with him, but he had picked me up and placed me on the couch. He knelt down in front of me and removed my underwear, tossing them aside. Then his mouth was on my inner thighs, his tongue sweeping upward leaving warm, wet trails on my skin.

  “Put your legs on my shoulders,” he instructed, and I did as I was told. I could feel his breath on my core, his nose inhaling the scent of me. Then I felt his mouth. He suckled, he nibbled. He lapped at me with abandon. He thrust his tongue deep inside me, never letting up until I was gasping and begging and crying out.

  The man was a master at the art of the female orgasm.

  Robert lifted my legs off his shoulders and gently settled me back on the couch. I figured this was only the beginning. That we’d now progress to other stuff. Instead, he snuggled up beside me, holding me close.

  “What about you?” I asked in confusion.

  “I like watching you get off. That’s enough for me,” he assured me, though it didn’t quite feel right.

  “I’ve never done that before,” I found myself admitting, slightly ashamed.

  Robert looked at me in surprise. “You’ve never had a man go down on you? What kind of monsters have you been dating?”

  “I was engaged to this guy—Mac. He wasn’t exactly interested in my wants and needs.” I hid my face, embarrassed but feeling this desperate need to share things with him. I was feeling vulnerable and strangely open. Orgasms clearly made me a chatty Kathy. “He spent our savings on cam girls. Underage cam girls.”

  It was humiliating saying this to Robert, but at the same time, I knew instinctively he wouldn’t judge me for it.

  “It left me thinking I had done something wrong. Why wasn’t I enough?” My eyes felt hot, but I willed myself not to cry. Mac deserved absolutely none of my tears.

  I felt Robert shift and then he was leaning over me, cupping my face.
“He sounds like a selfish ass. And Skylar,” he lifted my face so that I was looking at him, “that has nothing to do with you. That’s on him. And his loss is my gain.” He grinned and I felt myself melt into a pile of warm goo.

  “It’s not surprising I ended up with a man like Mac, it’s not like I had great role models,” I sighed. And then the verbal vomit came. I told him about my parents and their messed-up relationship. About growing up having a front-row seat to their dysfunction. And Robert listened to all of it. He nodded at the right places. He asked me questions. And I gave him things I hadn’t shared with anyone outside of my closest friends.

  It was when I was finished that I realized I had been doing all the talking.

  “God, listen to me, going on and on about myself. It makes me sound so narcissistic,” I laughed, reaching for Robert and pulling him close. “Tell me about your family. I want to know everything about you.”

  And that’s when it all went wrong.

  Robert’s body tensed briefly before he relaxed as if he were forcing himself to be casual—natural.

  “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” He sat up, kissing the top of my head.

  “Uh sure, it’s just down the hall. On the left, can’t miss it.” I watched him walk down my hallway wearing only a pair of tight-fitting boxer briefs. The man’s body was incredible. Sculpted and lean without being overly muscular. He was all hard edges and defined planes. He clearly took care of himself.

  But I couldn’t be content ogling him because I was very aware he hadn’t answered my question. Instead, he had made a quick retreat. When he came back, I had gotten dressed. He gave me a sexy, half-smile. “I guess I’ll just have to take all this off again.” He started to reach for me, but I shook my head.

  “Actually, I’ve got an early start tomorrow. I’m pretty tired. So…” I couldn’t meet his eyes. I was hurt. And when I was hurting it quickly morphed to outright anger.

  I had cut open a vein for him. I had shown him the softer side of Skylar Murphy. And when I asked him to do the same he went to the fucking bathroom? Are you kidding me?