by K. A. Linde
“Ah. Right. The valet mentioned it at the gala . . . the event that you were at with Chris. Perhaps it’s just me, but the pieces don’t seem to fit,” Clay said. She could almost see the dimples in his smile.
“What do you want, Clay?” There had to be a catch, some kind of point to all of this. He knew. But what did he want?
“I want to see you tonight.”
“I’m not sleeping with you, Clay,” she responded immediately.
“Whoa! I never even insinuated that you would. Someone is jumping to conclusions.”
She could hear the laughter in his voice. She knew exactly what he was after. He had always been after one thing.
“I’m not stupid.”
“No, you’re not. But you also don’t have anything else to lose by coming to see me. The reporter was your boyfriend, right?”
“Ex-boyfriend,” Liz quickly corrected. She didn’t even want to think about Hayden. She just wanted to knock some sense into him.
“Exactly. So tonight?”
What the hell did she have to lose that she hadn’t already lost?
“Well, I’m going to be on Franklin Street in about twenty minutes. If you can find me, then you can see me.” She doubted that he would ever find her. There were a ton of bars on Franklin Street, and why would Clay go through that much trouble?
“Any hints?”
“I’ll be drinking,” she said before hanging up the phone.
That was it. She wasn’t going to answer her phone the rest of the night. Each call just brought more and more drama that she didn’t want to have to deal with. The only people she actually wanted to speak with hadn’t called, and she didn’t think they were going to. So she resigned herself to getting blackout drunk.
It actually took thirty minutes for Victoria and Duke Fan to get ready to go out. They started at their usual spot, which was packed with people, since it was Valentine’s Day weekend. Heavy dance beats filtered through the speakers, and groups mingled together near the bar. The bar had specialty drinks for the occasion and a giant red-and-pink heart-shaped piñata.
Liz leaned over the bar, her breasts nearly spilling out of her top as she flagged the hot bartender down.
“What’ll ya have?” he asked, eyeing her chest appreciatively.
At least someone was enjoying the view.
“Whiskey sour,” Liz told him.
“Sure thing.”
He filled a glass almost entirely with whiskey. She normally would have cringed, but tonight she didn’t care.
“What kind of candy is in the piñata?” she asked him as he added the sour.
“No candy. Condoms, suck and blows, lube, and other fun treats,” he said with a wink as he passed her drink across the bar. She went to hand him her cash and he winked at her again. “On the house.”
Liz bit her lip coyly and dropped the money into the tip jar. She must look good tonight to warrant free drinks from the bartender. “Thanks.”
“Come back and see me.”
Liz nodded and went to find Victoria.
“There you are!” Victoria cried. “Did you order? Kyle is working at the other end of the bar. I could have gotten it for free.”
“I got mine for free,” Liz said, taking a sip of the liquor.
“Look at you! You look totally fuckable tonight.”
“Are you encouraging her?” Daniel asked.
“Butt out,” Victoria snapped. “Or I’ll send you straight home.”
“You’re not my mother!”
“We can role-play later, baby,” she said, slapping him gently across the face twice.
Daniel rolled his eyes and sipped on his drink. Score one for Victoria.
“So . . . you know what they say . . . the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else,” Victoria said.
Liz tilted her head and laughed. “I don’t think that’s the expression.”
“It should be.”
“I think it’s ‘find someone else.’”
“It amounts to the same thing. And all I’m saying is that you look fuckable and you’ve never had a one-night stand. Tonight is the perfect night for a threesome!”
“Victoria!” Liz said, shaking her head. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Which part?”
“All of it!”
“Why not make the night memorable?” Victoria asked. “You’re trying to ruin all of my fun.”
“I just want to get wasted drunk and black out in the safety of my own house.”
Victoria shook her head and turned to survey the room. “Hmmm. No. No. Maybe. He probably has back hair though . . . so, no. No. We’ll find you one,” Victoria said. “This is the perfect night for this. It’s like a breeding ground for singles who want to get fucked, because they didn’t have a date for Valentine’s Day.”
“You are the most insensitive person I’ve met in my entire life,” Liz said, tipping her glass back and trying to quell the urge to throw it at her best friend.
“What?” Victoria asked as if she didn’t know. “Oh, Lane? I don’t consider him a human being anymore.”
Liz laughed. Sometimes Victoria was a bitch, but at least Liz wasn’t on her bad side. She couldn’t imagine what that would be like.
“Oh, oh, oh!” Victoria cried, clapping her hands. “Found him. That one walking into the bar.”
Liz’s eyes followed Victoria’s finger as she pointed out the guy across the bar. She froze in place. No fucking way. How the hell had Clay found her? There weren’t a trivial number of bars in downtown Chapel Hill. It would have taken him longer than this to search her out unless he had just gotten fucking lucky. But still she hadn’t expected him to actually come find her.
“Yep,” Liz said to Victoria. “That one.”
“Really?” Victoria shrieked.
“Yeah.”
Their eyes met across the bar. Shit! He was too fucking gorgeous. How did everyone in his family have such good genes? He was in a black suit with a white button-down underneath it undone at the neck so he looked more relaxed than stuffy. His dark blond hair was styled and as his mouth rose into a smile, she could see the dimples that she knew were there.
Liz strode deliberately across the room, dropping her drink off as she passed the bar. She didn’t stop until she was directly in front of him and she could see the blue eyes gazing mischievously back at her.
“Found you,” Clay said.
Liz shrugged. “How are you, Clay?”
“Probably better than you.” His dimples showed as his eyes crawled her body.
“Probably.” She found it hard to argue that point.
“So, this whole time you were fucking my brother,” Clay said with a shake of his head as if he should have known all along.
Liz bit back a snide retort and breathed out slowly. “Could we maybe talk about this somewhere else?” she asked, realizing just how public they were.
Clay nodded. “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”
Liz followed him out of the bar and out onto the sidewalk. He latched on to her arm and smiled at her. “You wouldn’t let me take you home before. Come with me now.”
Liz pulled her arm away from his. “I’m not like your girlfriend; you can’t just yank me around.”
Clay smirked. “No, you’re nothing like Andrea.”
“How long before you’re married anyway?” Liz asked, deflecting that statement.
“As long as I can postpone it,” he told her, walking up to the valet and handing over his ticket.
“How did you find me?” Liz could feel the alcohol from that last drink clouding her mind. “There are too many places I could have been.”
“I asked Savannah where she would go,” he said with a shrug.
Liz’s eyes widened. “Did you tell her you were coming to see me?”
“Um . . . no. Why would she care?”
She opened her mouth and then closed it. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to disclose the information about h
ow close she and Savannah were, but it seemed too late now. “We’re friends. We work on the paper together.”
“You seem to be affiliated with everyone in my family somehow.”
“All of you by accident.”
“Well, it’s not an accident tonight,” he said with that same smile.
A sleek black car pulled up in front of them. The valet hopped out of the car and handed Clay the keys.
Of course he has a Porsche.
“After you,” he said, holding the passenger door open for her.
Liz walked up and stood directly in front of him. “Why are you even with Andrea if you don’t want to marry her?”
“Why did you fuck my brother when you knew you had no chance together?” Clay shot back.
“Those two things aren’t even comparable,” she said with a shake of her head.
Clay smirked. “Just get in the car, Miss Carmichael.”
Whatever. It wasn’t as if she had anything better to do. Brady wasn’t an option. Hayden had fucked up royally. She was drunk and couldn’t think of a reason not to go with Clay.
“Fine,” she grumbled, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one heard him use that name.
She sat down on the plush leather interior and Clay shut the door in her face. She watched him walk around the front of the car, open the door, and take the seat next to her. Clay revved the engine and then pulled away from the bar. Liz didn’t even know where they were going, and at that moment she didn’t care. It was nice to not think for once and go along with whatever was happening.
“My roommate is probably freaking the fuck out,” she said, leaning her head back against the seat.
“Why is that?”
“Because she picked you out in the bar and told me to go home with you.”
Clay cracked up laughing. “She has good taste.”
“Usually. I’d say she was questionable on this choice.”
“You’re cute when you’re lying,” Clay said with that cocky attitude. “So, how did it all happen?”
“How did what happen?”
“You and Brady.”
Liz cringed. It was too fresh to even think about them like that. Things had gone all wrong.
“Coincidence. Serendipity. All that,” she managed to say with a shrug, glancing out the window. “You read the article. We met after he announced he was running for Congress.”
“How remarkable. Starting a clandestine affair off of a chance encounter.”
“What does it even matter to you, Clay?” Liz asked, turning back to face him. “You wanted to fuck me, and your big brother got there first. You lose again.”
She didn’t even know where that had come from. What the fuck was wrong with her?
Clay chuckled softly. “You know, I always knew there was something different about you. That first time we met on the Fourth of July and every time after that. I knew that you weren’t some abject drone following my brother around because you believed in his stupid policy speeches or, worse, his pleas for attention by speaking about personal issues. I went and read your articles about Brady from two summers ago, and I think that you were right. You said the things I was telling you about Brady all along.”
“That was before I knew your brother.”
“Exactly. Back when you saw him for what he really was, not what he wanted you to see. Tell me something. Do you honestly think that he didn’t fuck someone else when you guys were together?” he asked, glancing over at her.
“Do you have a point?” she snapped. She couldn’t think about that. It didn’t even matter.
Clay turned a sharp corner and began to weave down back streets. “With me you know exactly what you’re getting. With Brady you never know.”
“Is the lawyer trying to tell me that he’s honest?” she quipped.
“The lawyer is trying to tell you that after everything he still wants to take you home and he still wants to fuck you. I doubt Brady is saying that.”
Liz choked back a gasp at his frankness. “You just want me because your brother had me.”
“Correction: I just want you more.”
“So what? You want to get me out of your system so you can go back to your heiress?” Liz demanded.
Clay smirked and shot her a devious grin. “Lucky for me, I have a pretty insatiable appetite.”
Liz knew that she was at a low point in her life. She had never felt so completely and totally destroyed. And at this point, she just didn’t care what happened. And maybe, even a small part of her knew that if she couldn’t have Brady then she just wanted to be close to him however she could. Even if it was a completely fucked-up notion. Clay was as close to Brady as she was ever going to get again, and it was good enough for her in that moment.
“Fine.”
“Fine?” he asked, scrunching up his eyebrows.
“If you think you’re better than your brother, prove it.” She sat back in the soft leather seat and crossed her arms.
He didn’t say anything for a while. She clearly had thrown him for a loop. He probably thought that he was going to have to fight her on this one, but she didn’t have any fight left in her.
“Are you . . .” he trailed off. “I don’t want to misinterpret you.”
Liz’s eyes shifted to him briefly. “I think you get my meaning.”
“I’d rather you make it very clear.”
“I want you to fuck me until I forget Brady Maxwell ever existed,” Liz said bluntly. Until he wasn’t even a memory . . . just like Brady had said that night last October.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.
“Unless you can’t do that,” she challenged.
“I can do that.” Clay reached across the car, took her hand, and placed it on his cock. She could feel the hardening length through his suit pants. “I can definitely do that.”
Liz squeezed then ran her hand down to the tip and back. His breathing hitched; then she pulled away with a smirk.
“I sure hope so.”
Someone needs to.
Chapter 24
MISTAKES WORTH MAKING
Clay turned his Porsche down a long winding driveway about fifteen minutes later. They passed through an overhang of trees before the lot finally opened up to reveal a ranch-style brick house. It was beautiful in its simplicity and completely secluded.
“Is this yours?” Liz asked, staring out the window at the property.
“Yep.”
“Courtesy of Maxwell Industries Real Estate, I presume?”
“Someone’s done their research,” he said, his eyes shifting to hers. “Or do you have experience with other Maxwell properties?”
“I’m a reporter. Give me some credit,” she said, trying not to think about all of the other Maxwell properties she had been on.
He parked the Porsche in the driveway and they both stepped out of the car. Liz followed him around to the front door. He kicked over a flowerpot and found a key sitting underneath it.
“High security,” Liz observed.
Clay chuckled before he inserted the key, twisted the knob, and opened the door. Liz’s body buzzed with adrenaline as Clay stepped inside. She fought to keep her hands from trembling as she followed him. She had decided to do this and she needed to keep the tone light if she was going to go through with it.
“Where are you now anyway?” Liz asked, walking inside. “You graduated from law school last May, right?”
“I’m clerking at the federal level. Once my year is up where I am, I’ll move up to clerking for the Supreme Court.” He shut the door and tossed the key on a table in the foyer.
“Wow. Ambition runs in the family.”
“Are we done talking now?” he asked, slightly annoyed.
“Are you going to be an asshole?”
Clay arched an eyebrow and smirked at her. “Absolutely.”
He was before her in two powerful strides, grabbing her roughly around the waist, their lips colliding. He had soft, demanding lips
that prodded hers open. He slid his tongue into her mouth and Liz almost sighed with the faint taste of honey. Damn, he was a good kisser. He wasn’t Brady, but he would do . . . for now. His hands guided her arms around his neck and she held on to him for support. He drew her body in until they were flush against one another. She could feel his defined chest through the thin material of her dress.
It was easy to get lost in Clay because she didn’t have to do anything. He took control of her, teasingly kissing, sucking, and licking her lips, tasting her, devouring her whole. And she let him. She let him cloud her mind with the help of the whiskey still pumping through her veins. It was easier than thinking about the train that had wrecked her life or the consequences that she would have to face in the morning.
His hand slid up her bare arm and she shivered against him. The alcohol had kept her warm against the February chill, but Clay was sending goose bumps up her arm. He found her hand and grasped it in his own.
Their lips finally broke apart and he had that same self-satisfied smirk on his face.
“Come with me,” he said, pulling her through the house and toward the back. He opened the door, still facing her, and tugged her lightly into the large master bedroom. A king-size bed took up the center of the room, covered in a fluffy red comforter and a collection of throw pillows.
Holy shit! She was actually going to do this. But what else did she have to lose? Everything else had been stripped away.
“You look like you’re thinking too much,” Clay said, dropping his mouth down onto hers.
“Guess you’re not doing your job,” she whispered against his lips.
“We’ll see about that.”
He started walking them backward to the bed. His hands slid over her shoulders, trailed down the curve of her breasts, down her waist, until he was gripping her hips forcefully.
She arched an eyebrow at him in challenge. This was easier. It was easier to taunt him into action. She could get through this. She wanted it. Clay was fucking unbelievably hot and his lips were like sweet honey. She wanted him to explore her.
His hands slid down to the hem of her minidress, and he ran his fingers softly under the material. Her breathing hitched and she felt her body warming at his touch. Without warning he picked her up and set her down easily on the bed. His hands spread her legs in front of him so that he could lean his body between them and capture her lips once more.