I groan and open my eyes, downing the last of my drink before feeling like a sick piece of shit for objectifying her like that.
Chapter 9
Alison
I have been completely lost in the job for several weeks now, spending almost every minute I have in the office drafting up drawings and combing through fabric samples and furniture catalogs to find exactly what I’m looking for. After my last encounter, I’ve been avoiding him like the plague. I’m still in shock that it happened, that I know how he tastes, how his body feels pressed against my own. I snap out of my thoughts before I get lost in a long daydream like I keep doing.
Now that I’m settled in at my new place, I feel better, at home at least. Work is spent dodging Vincent at the hotel. I’m often running from room to room and back to the lobby to check on the renovations while Vincent pops in to make sure I have what I need.
My office back at Madeline Dwyer Design is full of samples, and so is the bag I carry home each night, but I’ve found almost everything I was looking for. I need to get as much done as possible before I fly out to New York with Vincent.
At least that is what I am telling myself. I am highly motivated to knock this project out of the park. It is, after all, my chance to not only impress Madeline and cement my place at the firm, but it is also an opportunity to impress Vincent. Having a recommendation from someone like him would grant me carte blanche in this industry. This job is huge. It is going to take every ounce of creativity and concentration to make sure that things go smoothly, and the designs are flawless. Madeline always reminds her designers not to let personal vision overpower what the client wants, but she also reminds us that we were the trained professional and it is okay to let a client know what worked and what didn’t. We are like a personal guide through design land, helping to get the client from their vision to the end goal.
I grab my phone off the table, checking my messages again. I shot a text off to Janelle an hour ago about being out of my mind, but she still hasn’t replied. That isn’t much of a surprise. It’s a Friday night, and Janelle is probably out doing something a lot more fun than stewing in her dorm room.
Janelle is a knockout, always the social butterfly and life of the party and never one to pass up a good time. She loves everything about life—at least everything that makes her feel like she is alive. Unlike me, she doesn’t feel like she has anything to prove. She’s changed her major three times before settling into the English program with a marketing minor, and even now, no one is quite certain that is where she is going to end up. Janelle keeps saying that she just wants to experience everything that life has to offer before she settles.
It is the sound of banging on the door that takes my concentration from my work and brings it back to the world around me. I didn’t even realize it was dark out. The last time I looked outside, the sun was just setting, casting a beautiful pink and orange haze through the room.
I push up from my desk and go to the door. “Who the hell?” I say pulling the door open cautiously. There is Janelle with a bottle of wine in one hand and a bag full of Chinese takeout in the other. I shouldn’t be surprised.
“So, you said you felt like you were going crazy. I figured you needed something to take the edge off, and I can’t think of anything better than red wine and MSG to wind down after a hard week. Besides, you’re leaving for New York tomorrow, and this is my last chance to see you for a while.”
She leans against the wall, blonde hair pulled into a ponytail and feet clad in a pair of black sneakers, nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet when she moves to come into the apartment.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, Ali; what gives? That job sucking you dry yet?”
I smile and move to one side to let my sister in; this girl always knows how to make a situation better. I ought to have known the radio silence meant Janelle was up to something. Last time I sent her a text about being sad because my boyfriend forgot my birthday, she went radio silent, then showed up dressed in a full clown costume and face paint, making balloon animals.
“Something like that. You know you didn’t have to come over here like this. I know it’s Friday night and you’re still young…but I’m so glad you did. If I stare at that computer for another minute, I’m probably going to go insane.” I flop down into one of the dining room chairs and rest my forehead in my hands.
“I’m also a little stressed about this trip tomorrow. I have no idea how I’m going to spend a week with Vincent Crawford without going crazy either. This is going to be a long week.”
Janelle is cracking open the bottle of wine while I complain. She fills two glasses almost to the rim before taking a long swig straight from the bottle. I promptly take two large gulps before diving into the bag of takeout.
“Well, first of all, you are also young. Just because I’m younger than you doesn’t mean you’re an old lady yet so get that shit out of your head.” Janelle points at me with her glass before raising it to her lips and taking a long drink.
“If you keep up that stupid attitude, next thing you know, I’m going to find you in a nightgown surrounded by fifteen cats. You seriously need to stop thinking that being responsible and having fun are mutually exclusive. Live a little, Ali; it’s sad how much time you spend buried in your work.” I take another drink as she walks over to the table and rubs my arm. I know she’s right, but it’s hard to change.
“I know, I know. It’s just…ugh. I’m at such a pivotal point in my career, Elle; I need to prove to Madeline and Vincent that they can trust me on this job. It’s just hard when he’s so god damn infuriating!”
“Is he that bad? What’s he been doing?” She takes a big bite of her eggroll and looks at me intently.
I take another gulp, finishing off the wine in my glass, uncertain of how much to tell her. The two of us are best friends; we have been since we were kids. Janelle is only three years younger than me, and we were inseparable until I left for college.
There was a reason that Janelle had come to join me in Chicago when it was her turn to go to college, too, and it wasn’t because our father was an alumnus. Janelle has been the one who’d talked me through every last one of the relationships that ended in the past ten years, from my first boyfriend back in sophomore year of high school through my most recent dumpster fire of a failed engagement. She also knows my tells well enough to know when I am trying to hide something.
I glance at the floor as I watch her pause, put the glass down, and look me over with a long sigh. I can tell I don't need to say anything else.
“Dear God in heaven, he tried to sleep with you, didn’t he?”
“What? No!” I lie. “Yes, okay, maybe a little; we kissed. We made out. He had my legs wrapped around his waist and his massive, hard cock pressed again me, okay!” Janelle is laughing while clapping her hands in excitement. “But seriously…the way he kissed me. It would make a sinner blush.”
“So, what’s the issue? You struggling to remove your judgment about him from the situation? Or you worried it won’t fit?” she says with a stupid grin on her face.
I groan and put my head down on the table, unable to look her in the eye. She knew before I even opened my mouth, so there was no point in denying it. I am not ready to audibly admit that I am attracted to the man…or that I can’t seem to control my body’s reaction around him, or that I want nothing more than to have him rip my clothes off, spank me, and make me call him daddy.
“Yes, but he’s a total playboy, Elle; god knows how many women he’s been with or where his dick has been last. Also, WILDLY UNPROFESSIONAL!” I shout, waving my arms around erratically. I lay my head back down on the table like it will help make my problems disappear.
“So, what you’re telling me is that you’re getting paid good money to go on an around-the-world trip with a hotter-than-hell billionaire to do the job that you love—a billionaire who specifically stalked you, found your firm because he clearly wants you, and thinks your clearly
capable of taking on this massive job—and all you can say is he’s a total jerk? Oh, and he’s got a huge dick and knows how to kiss you into next week.” She laughs and grabs a fork, prying open one of the containers she’d brought with her and stabbing a piece of the chicken that lay on top. “You are some kind of stupid, sis.”
I take a long breath and chance a glance up at her from over my folded arms, nodding a little. I am unable to come up with a good explanation for why I am the way I am.
“Janelle, I cannot just go prancing around the world like I’m some fucking princess on vacation with her billionaire man. This is my career and reputation that I have worked so hard for. I cannot fall for this emotionally unavailable and complete cliché of a playboy!”
The amused look on Elle’s face is maddening. She is barely fighting off another laugh. “I’m serious, Elle. There’s nothing fun about any of this. I’m in crises mode here. Clearly, you don’t know me that well,” I huff, grabbing the wine bottle and filling my up my glass again.
“Oh, I know you pretty damn well, Ali. I know you’re not going to do anything fun if it means setting a single toe out of line or doing anything less than what’s expected of you. I just think you’re insane for not just having the time of your life while you go traipsing around the world on Vincent Crawford’s dime. And I’d have a hard time keeping my hands to myself if that one was willing. I’m just saying is all. You need to let loose and have a good time for once in your life. I’m not saying sleep with the dude if it makes you that uncomfortable; just have a good time for once! Where is always following the rules going to get you?”
That grin on her face is so typical of her. Janelle lives for a good time. She would enjoy this a lot more than me. I envy her.
“Well, I’m hoping it’s going to get me into a promotion and a nice job at the firm so I can move into a nicer apartment for starters.” I stab at the food in front of me with a huff.
“Oh my god. Like you’re not going to do a good job, Alison. You’re better than everyone at that firm and Madeline knows it. If she doesn’t, then she’s an idiot. The fact that she put you on this account says it all. She didn’t have to say yes to Vincent Crawford. You need to give yourself some credit. And please, stop acting like you have to be the saint because I’m the sinner of the family.”
I shake my head. “Yeah, well, the best way to convince her that I’m not as good as she thinks is sleeping with a client.”
“Sleeping with a client?” I can hear the faked shock in Janelle’s voice. “Why, whatever do you mean, Miss Ryder? I was just suggesting that you might make the best of your upcoming trip and enjoy the sights that each city has to offer.”
“Save it. I know exactly what you meant. You’d be in so much trouble if you were me, and you know it.”
“Seriously though, Ali, I’m not saying sleep with the guy. I get that’s a conflict of interest and unprofessional or whatever. I’m just saying loosen up, go on an adventure with him if he invites you, and try not to act so uptight around him…like you always are. You can be friendly with your clients; it’s ok. I promise you won’t catch cooties.”
“He did...” I focus on eating the food in front of me, not sure I want to admit what I’m about to say to her.
“He did what?”
“He kind of offered like a friends-with-benefits or no-strings-attached type thing.” Janelle’s face turns completely serious as she leans across the table and grabs both my hands.
“What exactly did he say? I can’t believe you almost didn’t tell me this!”
“He said something about how he doesn’t do relationships and that we could just enjoy each other in whatever capacity that may be.”
She throws her hands in the hair, tossing mine up along with hers. “Oookaaay, screw what I just said; you need to bang the shit outa that man! Seriously, Ali, you are not going to get an offer like this again. I mean…wow. Silver platter,” she says as she holds her hand out as if there were a tray and points to it. She fans herself dramatically.
I snort at her comment and almost choke on my food. Raising my hands above my head as I cough and laugh at the same time. I put my head on the table again, trying to recover.
“Don’t die on me, Alison. Just promise me one thing,” Janelle says as she leans down, brushing a stray hair behind my ear.
“What’s that?” I clean my chin with the napkin and grab some water.
“Consider his offer. Don’t over think it; just go with what feels right, and if being intimate with him doesn’t feel right, don’t do it.” I smile at her sweet sentiment.
“I do, however, hope you get the chance to choke on his huge co—” I jump up before Janelle can finish her statement.
“Stop teasing me about him!” Janelle jumps up from the table and runs as I chase her into the next room.
Chapter 10
Vincent
New York has always been one of my favorite hotels to visit. It doesn’t hurt that the Long Island Skydiving Center is just a quick trip away from the hotel. It has been too long since I’ve jumped out of a plane. I’ve been itching to since deciding I was going to be accompanying Alison on this trip.
I pull up outside Alison’s apartment, about to step out of the car when I see the door to her building open and her bustling out.
“Let me help you,” I say as I jog up the sidewalk to grab her bag.
“Thanks, you’re a little late.” I can’t help but smile at her extreme attention to detail.
“You know, your type-A psycho behaviors are really starting to grow on me,” I say with a wink before turning the car on and letting the engine roar to life.
“This car is so impractical; you could have told me we’d be in a convertabllllle!” She draws the last word out as we launch into traffic.
When I decided to drive my 1968 Aston Martin convertible, I knew I’d catch shit from her, but I love this car.
It’s a quick drive to the airport, and since we’re taking my private plane and aren’t leaving the country, it’s a relatively quick and painless process. Once boarded, it’s just a two-hour flight, during which I plan to try my hardest to get her to agree to join me in skydiving once we reach New York.
“So how do you feel about heights?” I ask as we settle into our seats. At least I can pretend it is under the pretense of making sure she isn’t scared of flying at first. The question doesn’t throw her too much off guard as she glances out the window.
“Not too bad. I mean, I’ve flown plenty of times before.” I laugh, reaching for a bottle of water the flight attendant hands me.
“Well, I was asking because I’m planning on going skydiving on Long Island while we’re in the city, and I was hoping you’d join me.” I try to act entirely nonchalant as I raise my bottle of water at my suggestion, but the look of horror on her face tells me it is going to be a flat-out no.
“I…I…” She is stuttering, stumbling over her answer.
“Relax, Alison; it’s not like I asked you to pilot the plane.” I reach over and place my hand on her arm, immediately regretting it. The warmth of her bare skin makes my mind instantly wonder what it would be like to feel other parts of her warm, soft body. Images of our bodies tangled together as my tongue explored hers come rushing back to me.
“I was just hoping that you’d come skydiving with me. You’re free to say no, but I think you’d have an amazing time. Long Island is only an hour and change away, so once we land, we could zip over and board another plane.” I take another sip of water, keeping my focus on her face as I wait for her reply.
“Umm…” She fidgets with her fingers and shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Crawford, I mean Vincent.” I can see her cursing herself internally as she speaks. “I’m not a fan of falling out of planes on purpose.”
By now, the plane is taxiing out onto the runway, and the pilot is making his announcements and preparing for take-off.
“I mean, I don’t plan on falling out of this one, but with the prope
r equipment, falling can be fun, Alison. Trust me: I’d never offer you anything but the best.”
“I’ll pass. Thank you.” She glances back out the window, ignoring me as the plane moves to take off. Silence falls between the two of us, but I can see her grip on the armrests as we ascend. She is a little more bothered by heights than she cares to admit.
“If you won’t come skydiving with me, at least join me for dinner.” Her eyes get that wide look again, like I’ve just asked her to jump out of this particular plane right now without a parachute. I am not sure how to take that. I just asked her out for dinner, not out for a night of wrangling poisonous snakes. She’s still on edge since our make-out session.
She clears her throat, opening the bottle in front of her and taking a sip of water. She looks back out the window before answering me.
“While I appreciate all the offers, Vincent, I’d prefer just to order room service tonight and settle in. I have several emails and things I need to go over for the Chicago location still. I do appreciate at the offer though.”
“Is this because of what happened between us? Alison, I don’t want you worried that every time I invite you to do something I’m just trying to get in your pants.”
“You mean you’re not trying to get in my pants, Mr. Crawford?” Her comment takes me aback. A sly smile spreads across her face, and for the first time in my life, I think I feel a slight blush creeping up mine.
“Well, since you ask, yes, Miss Ryder.” I lean forward in my seat, resting one elbow on my knee as I reach my hand up to touch her chin. “I am trying to get in your pants. In fact, I can think of little else besides imaging how sweet it will be when you finally surrender yourself to me and allow me to sink into your tight, wet core.”
Her tongue darts out to wet her lips as her throat bobs with a hard swallow. I can see she’s nervous, but I’m not done. I want her to know without question what I want to do to her.
Claimed By Him: (Contemporary Romance Box Set) Page 50