Her eyes glanced up at a decorative clock that hung on the far east side of the wall, and I almost winced. “Let me just check,” she said primly, and her fingers started flying over the keyboard.
Five seconds away from walking right back out the way I came in, my phone started ringing. It was Scott. I gave the receptionist my best smile. “I’m sorry.” I held my finger up. “I need to take…this…”
“Certainly, sir,” her clipped voice replied. I ignored the reprimand and answered my phone.
“Where in the fuck are you?” Scott hissed.
“In the lobby,” I hissed back. “There was traffic and-”
“Don’t care,” he bit out. “Just get on the goddamn elevator and take it to the seventh floor. I’ll be waiting.” He hung up, the bastard.
I turned back to face the receptionist. “Uh, I’m sorry to have bothered you, but…that was my brother. I know…where I’m going now.” I smiled.
Like a psychopath.
She harrumphed and went back to typing away on her computer.
Fucking great.
I found the elevators-with no help from Happy Receptionist-and thanked God as no one followed in after me. I hit the number seven and tried to reach for my inner Zen on the ride up.
As much as I detested this shit, I was still proud of what Scott and I had built. I didn’t want to embarrass him or myself with stupid shit like this. Weston Technologies had a solid reputation and the last thing we needed was for it to get around that we were unprofessional.
Okay. Well, meeeee.
That I was unprofessional.
I chalked it up to Scott being older and married with kids. That kind of responsibility matured a man. “What about Aaron?” my subconscious asked, and I told him to shut the fuck up. Everyone knew the military turned boys into men. Aaron was more mature than Scott in my eyes at this point.
When the elevator came to a stop with that universal ding and the doors swooshed open, I walked out and, sure enough, an angry Scott was standing just a few feet away. His face was the epitome of composure and professionalism, though, but his hands were in his pockets. That was his tell. I knew, as well as I knew my own name, that his fists were balled up inside his pockets and if he could deck me, he would.
He was unstable like that.
“What’d you tell them?” I asked as soon as we were within whispering distance.
“Nothing,” he whispered back, surprising me. “The appointment isn’t until four.”
I was going to kill him.
“Then why weren’t you answering your fucking phone?” I whispered-yelled. “I’ve been calling and texting you to let you know I was stuck in traffic and running late.”
“Because I thought you were just being a dick and trying to get out of this meeting,” he replied. “I wasn’t going to answer and give you the chance. But then you started cutting it too close, so I had to call.”
Before I could call him the manipulative bastard that he was, a very attractive blonde approached us. “Weston Technologies?” she asked, smiling.
Scott took his hands out of his pockets and offered his right hand. “Scott Weston, and this is my brother, Dash Weston,” he said, introducing us.
I was all prepared to be polite and like this woman until I saw her dark brown eyes glance down at Scott’s wedding ring. When she noticed the shiny gold metal, her smiled faltered, and I watched as her eyes glanced down at my hands, and noticing the absence of jewelry, her smile beamed again.
She was one of those.
I didn’t reach to shake her hand, but instead gave her a tight head nod. Scott chuckled and I knew, this time, we were on the same side. He saw her quick eagerness for a rich husband just as I had, and if there was one thing I could say about my older brother, it was that he loved his wife. And not only did he love Dani, but he loved his life with her and their kids. Dani giving Scott the third Scott in our family and his precious little Edna had just put the cherry on top of their pretty fantastic life. And I wanted to tell the brazen hussy standing in front of us that my brother had stopped noticing other women ten years ago, the moment Dani’s runaway Uber driver had smashed into his brand-new Maybach Exelero.
My cold reception hadn’t fazed her a bit, though. She kept her smile on and said, “Well, follow me, gentlemen.” She turned around and her hips started sashaying so hard, I wanted to bet Scott on how far we’d get before she put a hip out.
I let out a deep sigh and Scott patted my shoulder in sympathy. He knew he was safe with that damn ring he just like to flaunt around with no regard to the innocent bystanders near him. Had he no consideration for others around him?
We followed Ms. No Dignity down the hall until she stopped in front of a door identified as Conference Room 4. She grabbed the doorknob and pushed the door open with her smile still intact. It was times like these I wish I had a girlfriend who was a scrappy little thing and not afraid to stake her claim.
Ms. No Dignity let Scott pass unscathed, but when I tried to enter the room, she crowded the doorway and batted her eyes at me. “Is there anything else I can you for you?”
I wanted to say, ‘Yeah. You can get the hell away from me’, but I didn’t want to cause a scene. Scott would kick my ass for sure. So, instead I just mumbled, “Nothing. Thanks.” I squeezed past her, ready to put her unpleasantness behind me, only to be hit by a two-by-four with the vision in front of me.
Standing there, like it was normal or something, was Henley Don’t-Know-Her-Last-Name shaking hands with my brother.
What. The. Fuck?
At first, I thought this had to be some kind of sick joke, but then I remembered that I hadn’t told Scott about her. There was no way he could know about Henley. Had Henley reached out to him? My ego told me to stop. In order for Henley to reach out to Scott, that would mean she had searched a ‘Dash’ on the internet until she found me, and then…what? Searched some more to find out I had a brother? Then searched him to manipulate a meeting with him because she knew he’d be forced to bring me with him? All in an attempt to…do what exactly?
Yeah.
I might have given her the best dicking of her life, and she might have been the best pussy-no, scratch that. She was, hands down, the owner of the best orifices I’ve ever had the privilege of penetrating, but I seriously doubted that my dick impressed her enough to go all Play Misty For Me.
There was no way the Universe didn’t have it out for me.
I forced my feet forward, unprepared like a motherfucker, and stood next to my brother. Henley’s smile had been warm and genuine when she had greeted Scott, but the second she turned her head to address me, her smile took on a forced quality, but her eyes showed no surprise at all.
Sonofabitch.
She knew who I was.
She knew who I was, and she knew I was going to be here, giving her the upper hand in this fucked-up battle of wills that had started at the bar and had finished at The Lux.
Or, so, I thought.
“Mr. Weston,” she gritted out between her teeth, her hand out for a handshake.
I stood there taking in how she was still as beautiful as she had been that night, three months ago. And it wasn’t until Scott cleared his throat that I realized I’d been standing there, staring at her like a creeper.
I reached out, took her hand in mine, and yanked her forward until her body was flushed with mine. Looking into those green eyes of hers, I said, “You again.”
Chapter 7
Henley~
The jackass had the nerve to look just as good as he had the night I met him. The black hair and grey eyes were a lethal combination, and standing before two men with the same coloring and features, Ellie’s mention of a threesome didn’t seem so absurd anymore. Not that I’d be brave enough to tackle such an adventure. Besides, Scott Weston proudly wore a thick gold band on his ring finger that announced him as a happily married man.
Before I could say anything, the happily married Scott Weston asked, “Uh, excus
e me? You two know each other?”
“You could say that,” Dash bit out.
I pulled myself from his grasp and my vagina started hissing like a rabid animal. She remembered that hard body and what all it was capable of. She had been pretty pissed off when I had snuck off that night. And, man oh man, could the little tart hold a grudge. I haven’t been able to orgasm without reliving that night since.
I was just about to downplay how we knew each other when the conference room door opened, and in walked Mr. Peridy and goddamn Arnold Harrison. I knew why Mr. Peridy was here, but I didn’t know why Arnold had tagged along. Mr. Peridy was a fan of giving our clients that personal feel and always met them when he could. I thought it was a sweet touch that other companies lacked, but that didn’t mean I liked Arnold being here with him.
Ignoring the woman-hating glaring man next to me, I smiled at Mr. Peridy. “Mr. Peridy, glad you could join us,” I semi-lied. “Please let me introduce you to Scott and Dash Weston.” I gestured to each man as I said their names. “Gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to our marketing director, Howard Peridy.” I immaturely, pettily, and unprofessionally left Arnold out of the introductions, but I didn’t care. He shouldn’t be here in the first damn place.
My plan of maliciousness backfired when Arnold introduced himself after the men all shook hands. “And I’m Arnold Harrison,” he said, sticking his hand out. “I work closely with Henley.” The asshole was lying. We didn’t work closely together. We never did. Every advertising executive had their own clients. Only the biggest accounts were shared, but that was rare. We might bounce ideas off each other, but that was about it. We did not work closely together.
This smug asshole was trying to poach Weston Technologies from me.
I had been about to kick him in the balls-mentally-when I noticed that he winced a bit while shaking Dash’s hand. And the embarrassment of knowing Dash knew who Arnold was to me was almost enough to make me hand over the account to Arnold and walk out of the room.
Almost.
I donned my best professional face and said, “You’re more than welcomed to stay, Mr. Peridy.”
He smiled good-naturedly. “Nonsense, Henley,” he said. “I just wanted to introduce myself and let these fine gentlemen know that they are in the best of hands.” He looked between Scott and Dash. “However, if you gentlemen have any questions that Henley may not be able to answer for you, please feel free to call me.” I knew Mr. Peridy wasn’t calling out my abilities to handle their account. He was just making sure to let the client know he was available for them as well.
“Not to mention, we’re a team here,” Arnold butted in. “I’m available also. We…we all are.”
The homicidal urge was strong, but before I could pounce on him like a raccoon living with rabies, Dash remarked, “I’m more than positive that Henley can manage our account successfully.”
He called me Henley.
It had been professional and acceptable since that was what Mr. Peridy had addressed me by, but somehow, it hadn’t felt professional and acceptable. But that was probably because my mind was being assaulted with all the memories of when he’d said my name before.
Fuck, Henley, your mouth feels so good.
Henley, baby, let me inside that tight pussy.
Say my name, Henley.
As Dash was eyeballing Arnold, I noticed Scott Weston was eyeballing me. I gave him a tentative smile, but he just cocked his head at me, his expression thoughtful. He knew something was up between me and his brother, but he wasn’t sure what.
Mr. Peridy cleared his throat. “Well, we’ll let you guys get on with your meeting.” He turned towards Arnold. “Arnold, shall we?”
Both men exited the building, and a few awkward seconds ticked by before Scott Weston’s voice broke the silence. “Is someone going to tell me what the hell is going on?” I glanced at Dash, unsure what to do, and decided to let him take the lead.
He shrugged a shoulder. “What do you mean?”
Scott looked back and forth between us. “Oh, I don’t know,” he drawled out, planting his hands on his hips. “Maybe you can explain why you practically whipped your dick out and pissed a circle the woman. How about we start with that?”
I gasped.
Dash groaned.
“No? Nothing?”
“You’re overreact-”
Scott barked out a humorless laugh. “Don’t even try it, Dash,” he said. “I know you. I know that tone and I know that stance. You might as well have sucked your goddamn mark on her neck with that shit.”
“Okay,” I jumped in. “I…I think you’re misreading-” Scott Weston shut me up with a look he must have practiced in the mirror for years. It was that ‘dad look’ that was designed to make you feel guilty even when you weren’t.
“Scott, that’s enough,” Dash bit out.
Scott let out a sigh. “Fine,” he relented. “How about you two tell me how you know each other, then? Why don’t we start there?”
“I met your woman-hating brother at a bar a few months ago,” I answered him.
Dash shot me a look. “I do not hate women,” he snapped. “And you’ve room to talk. You were ready to send all men off to a deserted island somewhere before lighting it on fire.”
Scott ran his hands down his face. “Sweet Baby Jesus,” he muttered.
“Not all men,” I denied. “Just the lying, two-faced, cheating ones.”
Dash raised a condescending black brow. “The first words out of your mouth were ‘why do men suck’. That implied you were speaking about all men.”
“And you calling all women whores was better?”
Before Dash could defend himself, Scott jumped in between us. “Okay. That’s enough.” He looked at me with a mixture of regret, confusion, and annoyance. “Look, I’m sure you’re great at your job,” he began. “But it’s obvious you and Dash would struggle with a working relationship, so I think-”
“No!” I blurted out. “I…can…Dash and I are fine.” Dash snorted at my lie. I scowled at him. “We are!”
“Listen, Henley-”
I cut Scott off again to throw myself on the mercy of Dash Weston’s sword. My pride was going to take a beating, but I’d rather humble myself in front of Dash Weston instead of let Arnold get anywhere near this account. I’d already lost enough of my dignity to that snatch napkin. “Mr. Weston-”
“My name’s Dash,” he bit out. “Don’t ever call me Mr. Weston again, unless we’re roleplaying.”
“Oh, dear God,” Scott mumbled.
I was going to murder this asshole.
I swear to God.
“Will you be serious?” I barked.
“I am being serious,” he barked back.
This wasn’t working. I took a deep breath and tried to get myself under control. After a few seconds, I told him the truth. “Dash, if you guys take this account away from me, Mr. Peridy will give it to Arnold.” I knew he knew who Arnold was to me because I had let it slip in my drunken rage. “I cannot lose this account to Arnold.”
He didn’t say anything right away, but after a very uncomfortable minute or seventeen thousand, he looked over at his brother and said, “Can you give us a few minutes?”
Scott reared his head back. “Uh, hell no,” he scoffed.
“Goddamn it, Scott,” Dash shot back. “Give me ten fucking minutes, okay?”
Scott glared at him. “Ten minutes, Dash. Not a minute more,” he glowered. “And if I come back in here, and it smells like sex, I’m kicking your fucking ass.” I cringed as Scott Weston stormed out of the conference room.
As soon as the door shut behind him, Dash looked at me and said, “The account is yours on one condition.” I nodded for him to continue. “Why in the fuck did you sneak out on me that night?”
Chapter 8
Dash~
I had something she wanted, and she had something I wanted. Henley wanted our account and I wanted fucking answers. Sounded like a perfect platform
for negotiations to me.
“Are you serious?” she shrieked. “That’s what you want to talk about?”
I stepped to her because I couldn’t help the masochist in me. The memories of the woman have been haunting me for months. Hell yeah, I wanted answers. “Why did you sneak out?” I repeated. Her shoulders sagged as she let out a deep breath. “And you only have ten minutes to explain.”
She shot me a withering look but answered anyway. “I was embarrassed,” she admitted.
“Of?”
Henley’s green eyes took on the size of dinner platters. “Lots of things,” she snapped, her light complexion turning pink.
“Like?” There was no way I was going to make it easy on her. She’s been driving me fucking nuts for months, even if she didn’t know it.
“Jesus Christ,” she hissed. “I went to a hotel room with a man I didn’t know and…and…did stuff.”
My brows shot up. “Stuff?”
Her eyes narrowed, and she looked like she wanted to deck me. “Quit being a jerk,” she snapped.
Now my eyes narrowed as my hand snaked out and grabbed her by her arm. I yanked her so hard, I feared I might have pulled a muscle. But she was where I wanted her to be.
Against my body.
“If by ‘stuff’, you mean we fucked like we couldn’t get enough of each other, then yeah, we did stuff,” I agreed sarcastically. “I also recall you swallowing my cock like it was your new favorite snack. And I remember-very vividly, mind you-my face buried in your pussy while I licked you from ass to clit.”
She gasped.
In true eighteenth-century embodiment of outrage and offended sensibilities, she gasped. And I knew it was because I spoke about eating her ass in broad daylight, where the cloak of drunken desperation couldn’t hide it. I wanted to shake my head. If women owned their perversions like men did, bedrooms all around the world would set off fireworks every night.
“Are you out of your mind?!” Henley looked around the room like we weren’t alone. “You can’t be saying shit like that, Dash!”
You Again Page 4