by Ali Parker
“You need to leave,” she demanded.
I found the one in the fourth drawer I opened, which was a lucky thing, because this was the biggest kitchen I’d ever stood in, and there were a good sixteen or so drawers left to check.
I twisted the spiral of the corkscrew into the cork and popped it out. “You need to relax, Cheryl. I won’t stay long. I just wanted to get a glimpse of how the other half lived.”
“We live very nicely, when guys like you don’t pop by and ruin everything,” she spat.
“I won’t ruin anything. I have excellent self-control. Which is lucky for you.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
I shrugged, found us two wine glasses, and filled them up. “If Vince wasn’t in the picture you and I would—”
“Finish that sentence,” she growled, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. “I dare you.”
I flashed her a grin. “Are you trying to turn me on?”
She continued to glare at me as I extended one of the wine glasses to her. Her eyes flicked to the glass and then back to me as I took a sip of my own. “No thank you.”
“Give me a tour then?”
She opened her mouth to offer some snarky retort, but I already started walking away. I didn’t go right for the area where all the people were. To be honest, I wasn’t all that interested in bumping into Vince. Even though I doubted he would recognize me, I didn’t want to put Cheryl in a tight spot with him. He already struck me as the kind of guy who would fly off the handle at the smallest of things—like the scraped bumper of her Mercedes—and she was the one who had to stay home alone with him when the others and myself cleared out of the mansion.
“How many bathrooms does this fucking house have?” I asked, as I wandered down a hallway off the kitchen. Doors opened up into a study that I assumed was Vince’s due to the dark furniture, walls, and masculine aroma that wafted out of the room.
Cheryl hurried to catch up with my long strides. “Five.”
“Five?” I asked, incredulously. “Who on this planet needs five bathrooms?”
“I don’t think ‘need’ is the right word.”
“Right you are. What about bedrooms?”
“Seven, plus the den and media room.”
“Jesus Christ.”
I carried on past Vince’s study and peered into another room that also happened to be an office. It had soothing light gray walls and bright furniture with pops of color; teal, yellow, purple. I leaned on the doorframe and sipped my wine. “This is your office, I presume?”
Cheryl nodded.
“What do you do in here?” I asked, stepping into her office. It smelled good in here. Like lemons and mint.
Cheryl stayed in the hallway and watched me walk around. “I don’t spend much time in here.”
“Why not?”
She shrugged. “I don’t work. I told Vince it was pointless, but he insisted I have my own office. Maybe he was giving me the hint to start a job from home or something.”
“Seems likely. A guy like him wouldn’t want his woman off working in the public eye.”
Cheryl flinched.
I paused. Had I said something wrong? “I meant that as a compliment. You’re a beautiful girl Cheryl, and Vince is a predictable guy. He screams jealousy issues from leagues away.”
“You hardly know him.”
“I don’t need to. I know his type.”
She looked down at her feet. The shoes she had on were sky high black pumps. How long had she been walking around in those things? And in her own damn house. How peculiar.
I rubbed my stomach. “I couldn’t help but notice how good it smelled when I came inside. Let’s go get us a snack, shall we?”
“No,” she said, but I was already slipping by her and heading back down the hall.
I found myself slipping between the bodies of people in the living room talking among themselves. Nobody bothered with me. I felt rather invisible, which was nice, because I was able to saunter right up to a delicious looking cheese platter. I helped myself to a crystal plate, grabbed a couple pieces of baguette, and cut some brie cheese to spread on the bread.
Then I walked a lap and collected a few other things—California rolls, some vegetables, odd little slices of yams with goat cheese on them. Cheryl followed along behind me, keeping a wary eye out for Vince who I’d already spotted out by the pool.
For now I had free reign of the house.
“Let your hair down,” I told Cheryl, after I found a good place to put my wine glass down —in the dining room so I could enjoy my food. “I don’t want Vince to catch me here anymore than you do. And I said I wouldn’t stay long. I’m not a liar.”
She rolled her eyes. “Forgive me for not finding you trustworthy.”
I bit into the yam appetizer and closed my eyes as the sweet and savory flavors exploded on my tongue. “Shit. You’re an incredible cook.”
She ran her hands down the front of her dress, smoothing out the fabric that didn’t need to be smoothed at all. A nervous tick, perhaps?
I devoured every morsel on my plate before bringing it into the kitchen. I was about to put it in the sink when a man walked in from the opposite entrance from me. Cheryl, hot on my heels, let out a nervous squeak as the man studied me. He had a full head of silver hair, a thick beard, and a very expensive watch on his wrist.
He probably had a nicer house than this one. And that was saying something.
“Gavin,” Cheryl said, her voice as weak as it was polite.
The man, Gavin, gave Cheryl a warm smile. “I was looking for you my dear. My wife and I are heading home. We have an early start in the morning to catch a flight to Los Angeles. I just wanted to thank you for the evening. We had a pleasant time and are looking forward to seeing more of you and Vince over the year.”
Cheryl clasped her hands together, walked around me, and stood deliberately between me and Gavin. “It was so nice meeting you. Maybe at our next get together there will be less people and we can really have time get to know each other.”
He put his hand on her shoulder. “We would love that. Take care of yourself.” His eyes darted over her shoulder to me. “You alright in here, Cheryl?”
She nodded. “Oh, yes. He’s just helping me with some clean up.”
Gavin nodded, “Very well. Good night.”
“Good night,” Cheryl practically whimpered.
Then Gavin took his leave.
We stood in the kitchen for a moment. Cheryl had her back to me, giving me a nice view of her ass and the back of her legs.
I cleared my throat. “Gavin thinks you’re hot, too. For the record.”
She rounded on me, grabbed my wrist, and hauled me out of the kitchen behind her. She took me back down the hall I’d wandered through earlier, turned into the third door on the right, and pulled me in behind her. I found myself standing in a bathroom the size of my bedroom as she slammed and locked the door behind her.
She spun to face me and a strand of hair got caught in her lipstick as she pointed an accusing finger at my chest. “I will not let you ruin this night for us! Vince has worked hard to get where he is and this company is our big shot. Our future depends on this and no foul mouthed, rude, pig-headed biker is going to march in here and screw it all up!”
Her chest rose and fell with each labored breath.
Damn. I’d really pissed her off.
She closed her eyes as if to collect her sanity as she pulled the strand of hair off her lips. “Now, when I open this door, you’re going to walk straight to the front door and leave. Is that clear?”
I nodded. “Fine.”
She sighed. “Good. Vince has enough on his plate. He doesn’t need to deal with my bullshit tonight.”
“Fuck Vince.”
Chapter 12
Cheryl
“Excuse me?” I asked.
Aiden, looking hot as hell in his black suit, slid his hands into his pants pockets and shrugged his shoul
ders nonchalantly. “You heard me. Fuck Vince. He’s an asshole. You and I both know it.”
“I most certainly do not,” I snapped.
Aiden threw his head back and laughed at the ceiling. I stood up a little taller, trying to look like I wasn’t shaking in my dress being in such close proximity to him behind a locked door while my boyfriend mingled with his associates out by the pool.
When he had his laughter under control he fixed his blue eyes on me. “Don’t make me laugh, Cheryl. I’m sure everyone in this whole fucking house knows how much of a prick your Prince Charming is.”
“I assure you he’s not—”
“You can’t assure me of anything. Either you just have really bad taste in men, or you’re lying to yourself. Which is it?”
I licked my lips. “I’m not going to answer that. It’s a trap.”
“You’re just afraid to admit that you know he’s a total piece of shit. But he buys you nice things. Let’s you live in this big ass house. But at what cost?”
I swallowed.
Aiden didn’t know what he was talking about. He had no clue what Vince and I had been through together. All the love, history, turmoil, grief, anger, fights, make ups, memories, holidays, break ups, sexual escapades and adventures back in college. He had no clue.
Aiden ran a hand over his buzzed head. “I can’t make sense of you, Cheryl. You’re a smart girl. Beautiful. Charming. Fierce. Yet you’re with a guy who treats you like you’re less than all of that. Can you explain it to me? I want to understand.”
“Explain it to you?” I asked dubiously. “I don’t need to explain anything to you. This is my life. Mine! I don’t owe you anything.”
Aiden adjusted his cufflinks. Every move he made had me on edge.
He gave me a smug smile. “I think you can’t explain it. Simple as that. You don’t know why you’re still with him either.”
Anger rose up inside me.
“Fuck you,” I seethed before lifting my hand to strike him—something I had never been compelled to do in my life. But he infuriated me. He pushed me over the edge.
And I needed somewhere to put all this fury.
His smug face was the perfect target.
When my palm was inches from his face he caught my wrist and held it in place like he was stopping a weak child from hitting him. His fingers tightened around my wrist, completely engulfing me, and he jerked me toward him, sending me stumbling forward.
“Enough,” he growled.
The sound was primal and just as angry as I was inside. His blue stare had darkened and he glared at me from beneath his thick, hooded brows.
“Don’t you ever try to strike me, woman. You hear me?”
I glared back.
Could he feel my panicked heartbeat in my wrist? Did he know what this was doing to me? Did he think it was fear?
At first I’d been afraid—but only for a half a second or so. Then I realized that this feeling was something else. Something wilder and unfamiliar.
Lust. Desire. An all-consuming need for him.
It repulsed me.
I should be afraid of him. He was a stranger. All I knew of him was that he rode a bike, a Harley of all things, and he had the hots for me. Both pieces of information were enough to suggest he was a little bit off his rocker. Oh, and the other special tidbit of information I was leaving out was the fact that he was in a biker gang.
The Lost Breeds.
But I knew that fear was unnecessary. Somehow I just knew it. There was nothing to fear from him despite his strength, size and appearance. He wasn’t cruel.
Vince was cruel. Vince liked to make me hurt.
But Aiden was different somehow, and I hated that I knew that.
I tried to wrench my wrist out of his grasp but he held fast. His dark expression never broke and he kept me fixed under his stare. “Do you hear me?” He repeated.
“Let me go.”
“No.”
I stopped trying to fight him. We were inches from each other. My nose was flooded with the smell of him; sandalwood, cedar and musk. I wanted to reach out and touch his face. I wanted to follow the sharp line of his jaw with my finger. I wanted to press myself firmly up against him and see what it was like to have a man hold me like he wouldn’t let go.
I hadn’t felt that in a long time.
Not since before I put the weight on and Vince still thought I was worthy of him.
Aiden lifted his other hand and pressed two fingers under my chin. He lifted my face and forced me to look at him. “Are you going to try to hit me again if I let you go?”
I shook my head.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
He released me.
I wrenched my hand back and clutched it to my chest like he’d burned me. Then I took three steps back until my shoulder blades were pressed to the back of the bathroom door.
We stood in silence for at least a minute. Him looking at me. Me looking at him while I massaged my wrist.
Him frowning when he realized how tight his grip had been. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t hurt me,” I said, as I forced myself to stop massaging my wrist. It didn’t hurt. But I could still feel the imprints of his fingers upon my skin.
“Do you still want me to go?”
Yes. No. Oh God. I don’t know anymore.
I nodded. “You have to.”
Aiden stepped toward me. When I stayed where I was he took another step, and then another, until we were inches from each other and I had to tip my head back to look up at him. He reached out and gently drew some of my hair off my shoulder to let it fall down my back. “I’ll leave on one condition.”
I almost said ‘anything’ but managed to hold my tongue. Was this what it felt like for Vince when he was with another woman? Did he get this same rush of excitement? This same complete and utter inability to function like a normal adult?
Did he get this turned on, too?
My cheeks began to burn.
“What’s the condition?” I asked.
His hand moved from my shoulder to the base of my neck. His fingertips were hot and his touch was gentle as his fingers inched up my throat to my jaw. “A kiss.”
“But Vince—” I whispered and then trailed off.
“Vince never needs to know. And you and I can get this out of our system. Don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about it.”
Since the first minute I saw you, I thought.
I swallowed nervously and a storm began raging inside of me.
Oh God, I wanted to. He was so close. All I would have to do was close my eyes and he would take care of the rest.
But Vince was on the other side of the door at my back. He was doing what he had to in order to move up in the company. We were a team. A unit. We had to have each other’s backs and fight the things like this that threatened to tear us apart.
But I was the only one fighting. I was the only one remaining loyal. I was the only one who had his back.
He’d cheated on me more than once, just since moving to New York City. And I couldn’t fathom how many women he’d had his way with back in Georgia.
What harm was one little kiss in comparison to Vince’s adultery?
One harmless, little, doesn’t-mean-anything kiss.
Aiden’s hand slipped around the back of my neck and he started lowering his head to mine. He stared into my eyes until, when he was just a couple inches away, he closed them.
And I succumbed.
I melted into his hold on me, wrapped my fists in the front of his shirt, and held on for dear life as his lips grazed mine with the softest touch I could ever have imagined.
He pressed his lips to mine like I was made of the world’s thinnest glass. Then, when I followed his retreat, he wrapped his other arm around my lower back, pulled me into him, and kissed me like his life depended on it.
He tasted like wine and cranberries. His lips were soft and smooth and
his hold on me was firm.
When his tongue slipped between my teeth to explore my mouth I let out a soft little moan. My cheeks burned when I realized the sound had come from me, and he smiled into our kiss before pushing me more firmly up against the bathroom door.
He plunged the hand on the back of my neck up into my hair.
I hooked a leg around his as he used his free hand to grab and hold onto my hip, pulling me roughly against his thigh and in turn pushing my dress up so high that my panties might have been showing.
I didn’t give a damn. His tongue in my mouth was too distracting; too glorious to care what my dress was doing and what view he would have when he opened his eyes.
We both broke apart out of breath.
He backed up and watched me as I pressed my fingertips to my lips and gasped for air.
Then he adjusted his suit jacket, lifted his chin, and nodded at the door. He cleared his throat before saying, “Wait a few minutes before following me out.”
He reached around me, unlocked and opened the door, and rolled out, pulling the door closed behind him. I promptly locked it again before spinning to face the mirror.
“Oh God,” I breathed. “Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.”
What had I done?
And why did it feel so good?
No.
So right?
I pressed my hand to my forehead as I tried to catch my breath. Then, in a bit of a panic, I fanned my face in an attempt to get rid of the flush in my cheeks. My red lipstick was a bit smeared, so I had to fix that up with a piece of toilet paper before straightening out the hemline of my dress.
Aiden had certainly got a good look at my thighs, but he hadn’t seen my panties, thank God.
I never should have let this happen. I should have told Vince right away that Aiden had shown up at the party. Sure, he might have been a bit pissed and probably jealous, but he would have handled it and I never would have gotten stuck alone in the bathroom with him.
I never would have found myself wanting him to kiss me.