by Liz Crowe
“I see I have to make the first real move here,” she said, her voice raspy with lust. “Fine. You rich boys are all alike.” She smiled then touched her lips to his as he groaned and buried his hands in her hair and met her halfway in a tongue-tangling kiss that left her gasping for air. He pressed against her body, making his arousal clear. She broke from his lips, loving the sensation of his hands all over her, his sheer command of the moment, and her own seeming inability to resist.
She reached down, unzipped him, and gripped his hard, velvety flesh, relishing the smell and taste of his skin, the rasp of his stubble against her cheek.
“Fuck,” he muttered as she moved her hand up and down his length. “You weren’t kidding about first moves. Better not, unless you’re…oh shit.” He groaned as she swiped a thumb across his head, using the natural lubrication of his desire to make him shudder.
His next kiss had a life of its own, firm, in control, but wildly perfect. He lifted the edge of her too-expensive skirt and ran a hand along the lacy scrap of panty she’d managed to soak in the last few minutes. He found her clit and started stroking, keeping his lips and teeth on her neck. Without even realizing it, she raised one foot onto a nearby overturned beer keg, and thrust her hips into him.
“Yes,” she hissed as he increased his speed and pressure. “I’m…oh my God.” The orgasm shocked her with its speed and intensity, forcing her to let go of his cock and grip his shoulder as her entire body was engulfed in spasms. “Shit, Austin.”
He raised his eyes to hers, held her captive as he put his hands on her waist, lifting her higher against the wall of boxes.
“I don’t know what you’ve done to me but if I don’t get inside you in the next few seconds I may kill myself.” His voice was low, throaty, and made her ache for that very thing.
“We can’t. Austin—we’re in a goddamned beer cooler. Oh,” she gasped. “Make it…quick. Ah! Yes!”
With a single stroke, he filled her, shutting off her protests with the force of his body inside hers. He pressed in deep, his pubic bone grinding her clit, his hips moving slow and easy, as if there were all the time in the world for this one, perfect moment. He stared at her, burrowing into her soul. She clutched his shoulders as her world exploded around her in a shower of forbidden pleasure. He grabbed her leg and bent it up before whispering, “I’m coming, Evelyn. Come with me. Now.”
Evelyn would count back in her life to pivotal moments, and this split second, when she gave in and let herself enjoy him, let him take her in a beer cooler while their client waited for them to emerge, would be the one that burned bright and clear forever.
Austin groaned and let his brain disconnect as his body took over. The nearly overwhelming urge he’d felt all day—hell, all week—then given in to as he’d followed her back here had spurred him on, made him do the kind of thing he usually avoided in public. But right now, he regretted nothing. The taste of her lips, her skin, the feel of her body under his hands and now, enveloped by her completely—it was worth all the getting-caught-in-the-act potential on the planet.
His vision darkened. He saw nothing but her as he dug his fingertips into her hips and experienced the sort of epic release they wrote about in books.
They quieted, his arms still propping them against the wall of cardboard, her breathing hot on his neck, the smell of her filling his nose. He sighed as she eased herself up and off him. He zipped up fast and tugged her into his arms, unwilling to let her go. Her whole body shook, but he kissed her hair, her forehead, whispering words not even he heard, anything to calm her and keep her with him, forever.
She looked up at him, her deep blue eyes shimmering with emotion. He gulped, afraid he’d messed it all up, taking her like this, in public like some kind of horny sailor on shore leave. “Evelyn, I’m…sorry. I mean, kind of…”
She smiled, shook her head, and disentangled herself from his embrace. He already felt bereft and alone, although she stood not a foot from him. A gnawing anxiety took hold in his chest. His head spun, clanged with warning bells, but he helped her rearrange her skirt and blouse.
He tilted her chin up to meet her eyes. “Not really sorry. Not in the slightest. Would do it again, if given the opportunity, actually.”
She blushed. It was the moment he knew he loved her. And he’d do anything to make her understand that simple fact.
“Let go of me, dammit.” She stepped away, lifting her hair off her neck.
Austin ran a hand down her cheek, unwilling to break the connection. “So, tonight. Dinner? Drinks? A movie? A baseball game? Opera? Sitting at the kitchen table and talking? Book club meeting? I’ll do anything you want. You know, tonight.” He tried not to grin like an idiot.
She shook her head and ran fingers through his hair. “You look like a guy who just got laid in a beer cooler.” She arranged her shirt once more and turned away from him. His heart sank. But the tremor he felt passing through her when he pulled her back and kissed her one more time told him all he needed to know.
That whole tough-girl façade was just that. And, frankly, he liked it as long as he got to see the soft, mushy center every now and then. And as long as he was the only man who got to see it. Ever.
“I am that guy. And you are that girl. And I want to be these people some more.”
She kissed him back but broke away, forcing him to release her. She gripped his biceps, her blue gaze piercing and serious, but the expression on her face was one he’d pay money to see again. “Okay, okay, back off a second. Give a girl some space.” She tucked his shirttail in, ran her hand up his chest, cupped his chin. “I’ll go out first. I need to find the bathroom. You stay back here and pretend…oh, whatever you want.” The tough-girl inscrutable expression was back in place. He grinned and stepped back, running a hand across his lips, getting an intoxicating nose full of her all over again.
“Fine. But I mean it. About tonight.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll think about it.” She turned then, crossed her arms and stared at him. “What makes you think I want you around, anyway? I mean, I got what I wanted, you know.”
He laughed, stuck his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, but now I want more. And you don’t seem like a fuck-and-run kind of girl to me.”
“How would you know anything about me?” Her face flushed red. He stepped close and put his finger against the pulse beat of her throat. “Besides, last I checked, you prefer your girls that way.”
“I don’t know nearly enough about you, Evelyn Benedict. But I intend to find out, and soon. You game?”
She frowned. “Maybe. Maybe not. I’ll let you know.”
He smiled and held the door open for her, his whole body still pulsing with the aftermath of their encounter. Just as she was about to step out of the cold, he grabbed her arm and slanted his lips over hers, loving it when she molded against him once more. “Don’t take your time. I don’t like waiting.” He nipped at her earlobe. She palmed his zipper, making him sigh into her skin.
“Like I said,” she whispered back, “I’ll let you know.” She smacked his ass on the way out, leaving him to ponder the possibility that he might very well be in love with the most challenging woman in the universe.
Evelyn strode out, head high, shoulders squared. But the second the door swung shut behind her, she collapsed into a chair by a big metal desk. Her knees simply would not hold her another minute. Her ears were hot, her palms sweaty, her thighs slick from their hookup.
Je-sus H. Christ, Benedict, what have you done?
She put her head down on the cool surface and tried to calm herself.
Way to let the captain of the football team fuck you in the back seat of his sports car. And that even after he bragged to you that he and his co-captain had already double-teamed the entire cheerleading squad.
She groaned, shifted, and tried to deny how great she felt even after their quickie. How goddamned amazing Austin Fitzgerald was.
And how much she had to get the h
ell away from him.
But a small voice still tickled her brainstem.
This could be fine. A physical relationship with a great guy is allowed. You’re single grown-ups. No one’s getting hurt by enjoying each other’s bodies.
She shivered, recalling how perfect he’d felt inside her.
She sat up, hearing a buzz near her ear. The store sounded busy, so she stayed put another few seconds, gathering her thoughts and emotions, or at least pretending to so she could stand the near two-hour drive back home with him. She smiled to herself, imagining pulling over, letting him do what he obviously did so well again. And again.
She pep-talked herself into a milder form of panic. One she could get her mind around. Her body was languid but somehow revved up, ready for more. She stood, looking for a bathroom so she could clean up, when the buzzing sounded again. She put her hands on the desk, feeling around for a phone once she figured out the buzz must be coming from one.
She picked it up and stared at it, trying to comprehend the photo on the screen.
Once she realized the device was not hers, it was too late.
The picture was of Austin. Undoubtedly. Smiling, his green eyes alight with his arm around a pretty, very skinny woman with long, dark brown hair. The name on the screen was, for some strange reason, My Girl Valerie Masterson.
Evelyn gasped and dropped the phone back on the desk top, hand to her mouth. Her face burned hot.
Holy shit. He has a girlfriend?
And she was Valerie fucking Masterson? As in Masterson’s, the giant chain of national grocery stores. And you just let him… She whirled around at the sound of his footfall behind her. He ducked and barely missed getting brained by his own smart phone. It hit a box, and landed on the floor still intact.
She grabbed it and shoved it in his face. “You colossal asshole.” She kept her voice low. The warm wetness coating her thighs now did nothing but piss her off. She grabbed tissues from a box nearby. “Stay the hell away from me.”
He stared at the screen, put a hand over his eyes then looked at her. And God help her, she almost believed the remorse in them.
Yeah. Right. Rich boy getting whatever he wants, remember?
“Evelyn, this is…” He held out as if to touch her. She stepped back again, putting another couple of feet between them. Tears threatened, but she choked them down.
“Bad timing, on her part it seems.” She pointed at the phone he had clutched in one hand. “But you know, I still hadn’t made up my mind about you. Now”—she reached under her skirt, used the tissues to swipe at the moisture between her legs while staring at him—“I have.” She tossed the damp paper into the trash and walked out without another look back.
The hole that had formed in her chest yawned, aching and empty. She gritted her teeth.
You are not in love with this guy. Get a grip.
But her head pounded as she breezed past Trent and out of the door, unwilling to speak lest she burst into lame-ass girlie tears.
She stopped by the car, realizing all her stuff was still inside, including her phone, keys and handheld ordering computer. Putting both hands on the top of the car, she shook with fury, remorse and missed opportunity. A touch on her shoulder made her jump.
Austin held out her keys, phone and computer. She took them without a word, unlocked the car door, and threw everything into the back seat. He stood, blocking her as she tried to shut the door after climbing in. Mortified horror mixed with sickening embarrassment, leaving her more furious at herself than she had ever been.
“Move, please,” she ground out, not meeting his eyes. He stayed put. “I’m gonna shut this door on your leg in a minute.” He crouched down, grabbed her arm, but she pulled out of his grip.
“Evelyn, please can you let me explain?”
“No.” She stared straight ahead. To think she’d nearly convinced herself to get into some kind of…what? Fuck-buddy relationship with this jerk?
Oh God.
She pressed her aching forehead against the steering wheel.
“Look at me, dammit.” His low voice buzzed through her brain, lighting weird little lusty fires she tried to jump on and tamp out.
“Why should I? So you can turn those pretty-boy eyes on me? Maybe I’ll spread my legs for you again, before you head back home to Valerie?” she spat.
Heaving a teenager-worthy sigh, he stood. “Okay, well, not that you’re gonna listen or anything, but here is the scoop. At this moment in time, yes, I have a girlfriend and her name is Valerie Masterson. But something happened to me exactly five days ago that solidified a decision I’d made already.”
She scoffed, unwilling to even acknowledge him. Afraid for herself because she knew she was halfway to being in love with him.
“I’ve only stayed with her to placate my parents. My mother, actually, who would not get off my fucking back about running the brewery and not working with my father in our food supply business. It was a pact with the devil, and, trust me when I say breaking it will not be easy.” He crouched back down and yanked her chin around so she had to face him. “But I’m going to. For you.”
“Yeah, right. Nice try.”
He frowned. “You are the most aggravating…” He sucked in a breath, then stared straight at her. Her heart lifted at the intense gleam in his eyes. But the picture ghosted across her brain again. Austin, and the skinny rich bitch My Girl Valerie Masterson.
He’d been with her.
And probably not in a beer cooler.
A combination of raw jealousy and embarrassment choked her, almost blocking out his next words.
“I want you. Not her.” He kept his voice light, but she sensed his stress, could already read his body language. And that scared her more than anything.
“Get away from me,” she ground out.
He shrugged and stood, stepping back. She slammed the door shut then turned the key so hard the engine screamed in protest.
She sighed when he rapped on the passenger-side window and rolled it down just enough to hear him. “Unlock this. I can’t get in.”
She smiled, but the pain in her chest paralyzed her. “That’s the general idea.”
“Evelyn, be reasonable. Even if you don’t believe me, you can’t leave me here.”
“You said it yourself, Austin. I’m aggravating, frustrating, and I have the car keys. Goodbye.” She started to roll up the window then stopped. “Call Valerie. I’m sure she’s not too busy shopping to come pick up her asshole cheating boyfriend.”
Austin frowned at her. “She’s not here. She’s…” He sighed. “In Europe.”
The ugly laughter that burst from her gut hurt, but she let it fly. “Of course she is.” She threw the car in reverse and left him there, a solid two hours from home. It took nearly an hour to stop sobbing and, by the time she pulled into her apartment parking lot, her whole body felt empty, reamed out and useless.
Chapter Seven
Austin swore under his breath one more time for good measure as he watched the complex play of emotions cross his father’s face. Keeping his body loose and relaxed by the sheer force of his will, he wished for a cigarette for the first time in years.
His father tented his fingers in front of his nose, a classic, familiar Fitzgerald stalling mechanism. He kept quiet. Filling the air with unnecessary words was not his style.
Austin took in his father’s large office, littered with photos of famous people and politicians posing with Maxwell Fitzgerald, on the golf course, inside large Fitzgerald warehouses, on Lake Michigan beaches, in tuxedoes at various high-profile fundraisers. All of the people in the photos were wealthy, conservative in their politics, and eager to get on the good side of the richest, most successful entrepreneur in the Midwest.
There was exactly one Fitzgerald family photo, a smallish one, on the credenza behind the large desk. He’d seen it plenty of times before, and, at that moment, it merely served to remind him of his own large responsibility, as the only child left to a
man whose brothers’ children had all gone in different career directions. There simply was no one left interested in running the family business. Austin knew that and guilt over it made his entire body hot with anxiety.
He tried not to sigh like an impatient little kid. His father had hated that, even when he’d been an impatient little kid.
“Son,” he finally intoned, “I think you’re making a mistake.”
“Yeah, well, it wouldn’t be the first time you thought that.”
“No, it wouldn’t be, but this—” He leaned on his elbows and stared Austin down, making him feel like the thirteen-year-old he’d been once who’d put frogs in his cousins’ beds at the lake house. “Austin.” The man’s voice was deep with barely concealed anger. “Your mother isn’t going to like it.”
Austin sighed and leaned back. “She doesn’t like anything I do. I want to know what you think for a change, not how you think she’ll react.”
“That’s where you’re dead wrong. Your mother only wants you to be happy. As do I. And life with Valerie would be…could be…”
“Miserable. And I refuse to subject either of us to it.”
His father frowned at him. “She’s a lovely girl. She cares for you. She’ll make a fine mother.”
“Dad, I don’t love her. I never have. I don’t plan to be forty years in a loveless marriage, her drunk every night by ten and me banging everything else on two legs in the meantime.”
The man had the decency to look flustered and embarrassed at that dig.
His father stood, indicating the audience was over. Austin rose, shook his father’s hand, wishing for the sort of relationship where he could get real advice and not a bunch of platitudes and excuses.
“It’s your decision. But you’re responsible for telling your mother.”
Austin let a brief disquiet settle in his gut. His mother had dominated his and his brother’s lives, without a doubt, taking her role as seriously as she did everything. But she’d been unable to let go of him, feeling a need to micromanage everything about him, especially once it became clear that she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do the same for Brock. He’d experienced her displeasure plenty of times before and fully acknowledged it could be a force of nature.