Fall for Him

by J.C. Valentine

  Indeed. Puzzled by this news, I slow my pace. “What else did you hear?”

  “Not much. Just that Mr. Scott told her to pack up her office and be out by the end of the day, but it’s all just conjecture right now. Has he told you anything?”

  I shake my head. “No, nothing.” After yesterday, it’s not exactly love in paradise between us. My only consolation is that his car was waiting for me when I left the apartment this morning. That’s something, I guess. He must not be done with me yet if he’s still being a control freak.

  “Oh, come on! He had to have said something.” Darren grabs one of my hands, his expression pleading.

  “I’m telling you, I’m just as surprised to hear the news as you are.”

  “Don’t you people talk?”

  “Not if we can help it,” I laugh.

  “Well, now I can’t stand to look at you,” Darren huffs, but it’s all just smoke and mirrors.

  “Don’t be such a drama queen,” I say as he starts walking back to his desk. “You know you love me.”

  His hand slices through the air in an impatient wave. “I’m devastated. Leave me to my sorrow.”

  Laughing, I back toward my own office. “Fine, but we’re still doing lunch.” Seeing his head nod, I walk the rest of the way to my office. Jenna is already fast at work. She doesn’t bother acknowledging me, and I do the same for her.

  When I begin sorting through my messages, I find one that catches my eye. It looks official but even more, it bears Rebel’s stamped signature in one corner. Tearing the envelope open, I find a thoughtfully typed message that I assume has been drawn up by his assistant.

  And it’s informing me that I’m now the sole designer on the project Jenna and I were heading up.

  My gaze flies up. Jenna’s head is bowed over her work, but she must feel me staring because her head pops up a moment later, her eyes finding mine. We hold each other’s gaze for a prolonged moment, and then she breaks contact.

  That’s it. I don’t know whether she’s received the same news or not, and if she has, how she feels about it. I’m hoping that since she was against being a part of the team in the first place that she’ll be more than thrilled to get back to the jobs she preferred.

  My hands tremble as I work quickly through the rest of my messages. Once my busy work is finished, I stand up and make my way past Jenna’s desk. Pausing in front of it, I wait until she looks up to speak. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”

  Releasing a heavy sigh, she follows me out into the hallway. “If this is about the project, I got the letter this morning.”

  My heart is pounding so hard against my ribcage that it’s difficult to breathe. “I just want you to know that wasn’t me. I didn’t ask them to do that.”

  Folding her arms across her chest, she looks as if she’s ready to lay into me. I brace myself for whatever she’s about to say. “Look, I don’t care how it happened or why. I never wanted to be a part of this. I’m just glad that I don’t have to worry about it anymore, and I can get back to my own projects.”

  That’s it? My mouth flaps open, but no words come out.

  “Oh don’t look so surprised,” she huffs. “It’s nothing against you. I just prefer working alone.”

  “But those things you said...”

  “It was a bad day. I shouldn’t have said them, but if you’re expecting an apology, don’t. I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

  My eyes widen. Well, okay then. Her semi-apology is both unexpected and welcomed. And as I don’t expect I will get anything more than this from her...

  “So...we’re good? No hard feelings?” There are plenty of hard feelings on my end, of course, but my only interest right now is burying the hatchet with this woman so I can move on with my day without having to worry about looking over my shoulder.

  “Yeah sure,” she says curtly. Turning on her heel, she stalks back into the room without a backward glance, while I’m left standing there alone, baffled.

  What can I say? I’m always a bit leery when something seems too simple. Nothing in my life has ever come easy, but throughout the rest of the day, it seems that’s exactly what this is. Jenna doesn’t send a single snide look or comment my way and, call me crazy, but it’s as if the atmosphere in the room has lightened. It wasn’t until the other members of the team cast me a soft smile or a brief hello, that I realized their absence over the past couple weeks.

  She must have more influence over these people than I realized. Note to self: be careful how hard yu rock the boat in the future.

  At my desk, I take out my cell phone and click a quick picture of the note still lying open on top of it. I type a quick message and send it off to Rebel.

  Problem solved. Thank you.

  His response is quick and to the point. YW

  He must still have a stick up his ass over the way we left things. Well, he might be surprised to learn that I have the same stakes in this as him, but does he see me acting like a petulant child?

  My fingers fly across the screen, my response serving a dual purpose: to feel him out and to smooth things over. Been thinking about you all morning.

  The wait is longer this time. When his message comes back, it’s less than inspiring. In a meeting. Talk later.

  Narrowing my eyes at his message, I try one last time to garner a response that isn’t full of attitude. Are you still mad? :sad face:

  Yes. Meet at car 5pm. Don’t be late.

  My inner feminist is screaming right now. The hell with him. He’s going to learn, one way or another, that I won’t stand for being talked to this way. He needs to get over himself. Sorry. Made other plans.

  With who?

  Whom, I correct with a smart-alecky grin while I imagine his darkening scowl. Washing my hair.

  Don’t be a child.

  Don’t be a dick, I fire back.

  Hope u have plenty of lotion left bc u r asking for it.

  A sick thrill shoots through me at his promise of a spanking, but right now we’re fighting and I’m tired of entertaining him. Hope you have a spare key...oops, you don’t. Enjoy those cold sheets tonight.

  I shut off my phone before he can send another message back and leave my chair. Marching down the long hallway back out to the waiting room, I catch Darren’s eye. He’s assisting a long-legged brunette in a tight black dress, but when he sees the look on my face, he rushes out a quick response and sends her on her way.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m hungry. Want to join me for an early lunch?” Already knowing what his response will be, I don’t wait for an answer. With the way that I left it with Rebel, I wouldn’t put it past him to come storming down after me so he can get the last word in. I guess it makes me a total bitch for taking the stairs then.

  The brisk job down the three flights of stairs is a challenge, especially in heels, but even at the risk of breaking an ankle, I don’t slow down for a second. If Rebel really is coming after me, the moment he realizes that I’ve left, he’s going to be fuming. Let him. A little chasing might do him some good.

  “Why are we running?” Darren asks, his breaths gusting out of him as he keeps pace with me.

  We dash across the main lobby, past the imposing security desk, my eyes darting from one bank of elevators to the other. “I’m behind on my cardio?”

  “Nope, not buying it.” Once we’re on the sidewalk, Darren grasps my elbow, forcing me to slow to a more natural pace. “You haven’t been right since that confrontation with Hildabeast.”

  “Who?”

  “Oh, that’s what I’m calling Jenna now.” He waves his hand as if to clear the path for the topic he really wants to address. “So who are you running from? And don’t even think about lying to me, because I will know, and I will go apeshit on your ass.”

  My eyes flare and a small smile twists my lips at his threat. “Man, you’re beginning to sound like my boyfriend.”

  “Ah,” Darren says with a knowing smile. “So thi
s is about Mr. Scott. What did he do now?”

  I don’t even bother to deny it. “Oh, you know. The usual dickhead man stuff,” I tell him. “He’s in a mood because...” I lower my face, unsure if I want to continue. I already know that Rebel would have a fit if he found out I told one of my coworkers our personal business.

  Darren’s face comes into view. His expression is filled with such kindness and understanding, it reminds me of Annie. I nearly burst into tears just thinking about her and how much distance is between us. I need my friend, and even though she’s a phone call away, it’s just not the same.

  “Go ahead. Whatever is bothering you just let it out. It’s always better when you can share the burden with someone.”

  “Thanks, but you know you just want me to spill my dirty secrets so you can gossip with your boyfriend about me when you go home tonight.”

  He grins, knowing I’m just yanking his chain. “You know I need fresh material, and my sixth sense is telling me you are a font of drama,” he cries, throwing his head back and arms out.

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “But in all seriousness,” he says as he pulls me under his wing. “You know I adore you, and I only want what’s best for you. So tell me what’s going on in Josephine’s world and, you never know, maybe I can help.”

  “What if I need you to help hide the body? Is that something you would help with?”

  “Girl, we don’t know each other that well.” He chuckles. “But I would consider shoving my boot up someone’s rear if it means putting a smile back on that gorgeous face.”

  Steering me toward a stretch of businesses, Darren pushes me through a set of doors and into a small, modern restaurant.

  “Panera?”

  “We need soul food for a convo this heavy, and they have soup,” he explains as he heads the way to the counter.

  After we’ve ordered our food and selected a table to eat at, I tell him everything that’s happened over the last few days. He’s right. It’s a relief to unload, and Darren is a good listener. He’s not judging me, and he’s not talking over me. He’s just letting me speak. When I’m through, I lift my spoon and shovel in some now tepid liquid nourishment.

  “Well, my dear,” Darren begins, releasing a weighted breath, “not much renders me speechless, but you just did.” Pushing his meal away as if he’s lost his appetite, he stares down at the table and the paper napkin he’s twisting into knots between his fingers.

  “What part are you struggling with?”

  “Um...all of it,” he says sarcastically. “Mainly, the whole unplanned pregnancy thing. With everything I know about him and from what you’ve told me, I’m surprised that either of you would be so careless. Do you want to have kids with a man like that?”

  “Of course not! But I’m not pregnant so the whole thing is moot anyway, and that’s what I’ve been trying to explain to him and now, apparently, to you, too.” Why can’t either of them get that through their head? I know my body, and I would know if there was another human being growing inside of it. Leaning forward, I hold his gaze with my steady one. “Rebel is overreacting again. He won’t listen to what I’m trying to tell him, and he’s acting like it’s somehow my fault. I’m just done trying to defend myself.”

  “You’re right, and you shouldn’t have to. As a man, I get why he’s so upset, but he should also realize that he’s not the only person involved here. Assuming you’re not with child,” he says with raised eyebrows, “he should still be by your side rather than off somewhere scowling at babies.”

  “He’s not scowling at babies,” I laugh. Well, he might be. With the way he’s behaving, I could picture him doing that. “So, what do you think I should do about him?”

  “Well, I know that when Daniel gets moody, we either hash it out and have wild make up sex after, or I wait him out. Is Rebel the type that needs space when he flies off the rails?”

  “I don’t know. He does tend to run off whenever we have a disagreement.”

  Raising his hand in a there-you-go gesture, Darren says, “He’s a runner. Just let him have a day or two to cool off. He’s a smart man, obviously. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have made it as far in life as he has. He’ll come around and then the two of you can talk it out and before you know it, you’ll be on your way to becoming a perfect couple like me and Daniel.” His chin lifts regally along with both tawny eyebrows.

  Laughing, I thank him for the advice and then we move on to lighter conversation. I tell him about Annie and Brody and my attempt to push the two of them together. He tells me I’m crazy to get involved and to stick to web design, and then tells me all about his plans to surprise his boyfriend with a trip to Italy in the fall, to which I tell him it’s so cliché.

  The hour passes too quickly but by the time we make it back to work and clock in, I’m feeling loads better about my situation. I have confirmation that I’m not wrong to feel the way that I do, and I have a plan of action in place on how to handle it all.

  When five o’clock rolls around, I wrap up what I’m doing on the computer and shut it down for the night. I don’t rush on my way down to the first floor, but I do keep my eye out for a certain dark and dangerous, moody man.

  He’s nowhere in sight, but the black town car is. Gerardo steps out of the car and walks around it to open the rear passenger door. My steps falter as I tilt my head to peer inside for any signs of Rebel lurking in the backseat. I’ve already promised myself that I would call a cab home, but the little part inside of me that holds out hope for happily-ever-afters is telling me to ignore that voice and get inside.

  I can’t help it. As irritated as I am with Rebel, I still miss him.

  “Mr. Scott has been held up. He said to tell you to take the ride and he’ll meet you at your place if he can later tonight. He also said to have you leave a spare.”

  I smirk as I walk toward the car. “Thank you for driving me home, but you can tell Mr. Scott that if he wants access to my home, he’ll need to brush up on his cat-burglaring skills.”

  My enjoyment of the moment skyrockets when Gerardo blanches. “You’re going to get me fired.”

  “If that were true, you’d already be looking for a new job. Here, give him this instead.” Reaching up, I fish a couple bobby pins holding the side of my hair back out and drop them into his upturned palm.

  “What are these for?”

  “Those, Gerardo, are the spare.” Winking at him, I climb into the backseat, unable to hold back a bout of laughter as Gerardo spits out a string of curses and slams the door closed.

  In a few hours, Rebel is going to learn a very important lesson in being careful what he wishes for.

  Twenty-Five

  Warmth and bare skin envelope the length of my back, rousing me from a dreamless sleep.

  “You underestimate my lock-picking abilities.” The gruff voice in my ear is, frankly, a little unsettling. But only because I’m still partially asleep. Once it sets in who it belongs to, my muscles begin to relax again.

  “I could have you arrested for breaking and entering.”

  “You’re a real bitch sometimes.”

  “This is me playing nice.” Rebel’s warm, scotch-laced breath coasts across the side of my face and I inhale deeply, drawing him into my lungs. As the rich, smoky wood curls inside my nose, I rotate my hips making my ass grind into his hardening cock.

  “Mmm, I like how you play.”

  My eyes remain closed as I luxuriate in Rebel’s gentle nuzzling against the side of my neck. He’s not drunk, but he’s not exactly sober either. He’s being sweet and affectionate. I might as well enjoy this side of him before he remembers why he’s here and how he managed to get in. It’s bound to result in an argument, and really, I’m just too tired to deal with the drama. Tonight, I’d rather cuddle with the man who drives me fifty types of insane and see where it takes us.

  Kneeing my legs apart, Rebel pushes one leg out and up, parting me open to him. Skimming his hand down my side, his thumb catc
hes the top of my underwear and snaps the strings holding them together. I feel his lips at the base of my neck, his warm kisses sending bolts of awareness down my spine. I don’t realize he’s released himself until I feel the hard steel rod pressing in the gap created by my spread thighs.

  “Rebel, it’s late,” I say in a poor bid for him to stop. I don’t really want him to stop, but I’m exhausted. After the way things have been, a part of me isn’t inclined to give him anything he wants. But the other part of me is more than tempted to take what I crave—him, stripped bare, and all mine.

  “According to my watch, it’s early.” He runs his cock through my increasing wetness, coating himself. “Hmmm. Your mouth is telling me no, but your body is telling me yes. Which one should I believe?”

  His husky voice in my ear coupled with the silky feeling of him sliding between my ass cheeks and teasing my entrance is enough to rip a moan from the back of my throat. My hips push up off the bed, arching my butt up, forcing the head of his cock forward to graze my clit. The move gives me away.

  The soft, raspy chuckle is my undoing. I don’t know if I’m just now deciding to give in to my desires, or if I already had the moment he climbed on top of me and whispered in my ear. All I know is that when he slides into me, the most delicious sensation of pure pleasure and absolute love wrap around me, and there is no going back. There was never any other choice.

  This is Rebel and me. This is what we are about. We fight. We fuck. We love. And we do it all with more passion than most people will ever experience in a lifetime.

  That’s not something to let go of easily. Even for someone like me, who’s never known romance or had her heart broken, I know this is something worth holding onto. I think some part of me has always known.

  Despite his drinking and the dark shadow clinging to him, Rebel maintains an unhurried pace. Pinning me to the bed with his weight alone, he takes his time loving me. He peppers my neck, shoulders, and back with kisses. His hands smooth up the length of my arms, his fingers lacing together with mine beneath the pillow. We fist the sheets as his hips flex forward and back, his body entering and retreating from mine in a dance that’s older than time.