by L. M. Reid
“It’s in her best interest,” he says.
“That’s a little cryptic,” I say. “Care to elaborate.”
“You’ve met my family, Griffin. As amazing as Ginger is, they would tear her to shreds. Fuck, they would tear anyone to shreds. No one, except Abigail Dittingham, is good enough for me.”
Hal comes from old money and I mean fucking old. His family has lineage in some sort of royal family or some shit. Either way, they are extremely proper and by the book and he’s right, they would most definitely hate the cocktail server Ginger as a mate for their precious boy.
I might be a jaded dick, but not Hal. He’s a good guy. Wants to find someone to fall in love with, especially if it means he doesn’t have to marry this Abigail chick like his family is insisting he do.
“Now you’re obeying family orders?” I ask with a laugh. “Does that mean we can’t steal the yacht for the clubs party?”
“Taking the yacht is the least of my worries these days,” Hal says. I want to expound on it, but his phone rings and whoever it is that needs him, can’t wait.
“Can we finish this later?” he asks.
“Give me what you have so I can present it to my dad then we can wrap it up next week.”
Hal hands me the files and grabs his things to leave. “Hey Griff? Think about what I said. From what I hear, this Chloe – seems like the real deal.”
I sit in the waiting area of my dad’s office. His secretary sitting across the room staring at me. I toss her a quick smile before looking back down at my phone screen and the message I typed out minutes ago but have been too afraid to hit send..
Me: Hope you’re having a good day.
It sounds pathetic as hell, yet it’s the only thing I’ve been able to come up with. I’ve never sent Chloe a text before. I shouldn’t be sending her one now. But I have been giving what Hal said some thought. And if I have a chance in hell with this woman, I need to at least make her hate me a little less. Not that I don’t find her defiance sexy as hell.
My desire for Chloe is most definitely shadowed more by me being afraid to get hurt again and less because she’s my employee. I had never loved anyone before June. She was my first. And when I found out that she was playing me, it destroyed me. I hid away. I drank a lot. I was a complete asshole. It went on for weeks. And it took everything the guys had to get me out of it. Not only had she broken my heart, but in my eyes, she had made a fool out of me. I loved her, I trusted her. All the while she was working for my father, her love for me nothing more than a ploy to try and get me to bend to my father’s will.
I erase the message on the phone and continue to stare at the screen.
“Your father will see you now,” Bethany tells me.
“Thanks,” I reply. Forty minutes later and he can finally make time for me. No one has entered or left his office so I can only assume that he was on a conference call. Or, more accurately I’m sure, he just made me wait. A way to show me how much more valuable his time is than mine.
I walk toward the door. “And I can see you tonight if you want,” Bethany says.
She’s attractive and as much as I would love a distraction from Chloe, I know it won’t work. Besides, Bethany has gold digger written all over her which means there is a good chance that she’s slept with my dad.
“Sorry, I uh, I have to work,” I tell her.
“Maybe I’ll stop by,” she says.
I make a mental note to have Micah, the bouncer at Lust, deny her access tonight.
“Hey Dad,” I greet the man who is my mirror image, just with graying hair instead of black.
“Griffin.” He says my name, his voice void of any emotion though it’s nothing I’m not used to.
“How have you been?” Even though I don’t really give a shit, I still ask the question. It’s the right thing to do. Whether or not I like the man, I still always try to do the right thing. It’s what my mom would want. She would want us to get along too, but I’m not a miracle worker. To honor her memory though, I try to be as respectful to the man as possible.
“What do you need Griffin? I’m very busy,” he tells me. He still hasn’t looked up from whatever it is he’s working on. Probably trying to screw someone out of their property would be my guess. You don’t become the top commercial developer in Arizona if you don’t step on a few toes, right? And my Dad? He’s the best. He skips right over those toes though and goes straight for the jugular.
I’m not quite sure what my mother saw in him, though I suppose there had to be something as some point. He always was different with her though, as if she somehow made him good, or softened him.
“I wanted to talk to you about something I want to put together. I thought that if you wanted to be a part of it…”
“Just spit it out already,” he tells me. He’s finally looking at me now but there is nothing but irritation on his face.
“I’m starting a foundation in mom’s name.”
“Like hell you are,” he argues as he stands from his seat.
“She was my mother and she left that money to me. I’ll do whatever I want with it.”
“What kind of stupid fund are you planning? Save the trees? Plant a flower?”
“No. Jesus. I want a program that will help other bars, nightclubs, and restaurants to offer free rides home to their customers, just like I do at Lust.”
“That’s even more ridiculous than saving trees. I told you that was a stupid idea when you came up with it. How much money do you waste a year on that?”
“It’s not a waste if everyone makes it home safe,” I argue. I’ve argued this point a million times. It never gets through to him, he never seems to understand. “The peace of mind alone is worth it.”
“So what is it you need from me? More money?”
“I don’t want a damn dime from you,” I shout at him. I’ve never even used the money that my mom left me in my trust. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done on my own, without his help and I think that is what gets him more than anything.
How could I, his fuck up of a son, accomplish so much without his help? How can anyone do anything without the help of the all-powerful Martin Hayes? He hates that I’m successful. He hates even more that I am in spite of him. Even when he tried to destroy me and everything I worked for, he couldn’t. Because even when I fell apart, I had friends to help put me back together.
The same way I want to do for Chloe.
“I don’t want shit from you,” I bark at him. “I’m doing this for Mom, and I thought that as her husband, you might want to be a part of it. Forget it. Forget I came here, forget I asked. And while you are at it, forget that I’m your son. I am so sick of you and all this shit. I’m done.”
“Don’t you walk away from me.”
The door closes with a thud behind me.
I know he’s going to come after me, some way, somehow and make me pay, but I don’t care.
Some things aren’t better left unsaid. Like me telling him to go to hell.
15
Griffin
I stand at the bar with the guys. It’s not often that our schedules all align so we can spend some time together, but tonight is one of those nights. Grayson, Hal, and Cooper are all here. No reason, nothing to celebrate, just a lucky night where we can all get together and let off some steam.
The four of us spent the better part of our four years of college together. We all had different majors, different aspirations, but what we did have was Lust. They are my family, the ones who helped me build my dream and make it come true. Not the man I share DNA with, the one who would rather destroy me to prove a point than be a father.
“How did things go with your dad the other day,” Hal asks.
“Is that even a serious question?” I reply. “It didn’t. Just, process it as is.”
“Process what?” Copper asks.
“Griffin wants to extend the free ride program to other clubs. He finally found a use for all those millions he has just lying ar
ound,” Hal says with a roll of his eyes.
“She may have left it to me, but it’s still his money. I don’t want it. I don’t want anything from him,” I say adamantly.
“I get it, it’s just… man, that’s a lot of money. You would be set for life,” Cooper reminds me.
“He already is,” Grayson interjects.
The more they talk, the more I realize these fuckers know way more about me and my life and finances than they should.
Saved by the gorgeous blonde, Ginger walks up to see if we need anything. Or at least that’s what she’s pretending she’s doing. Her and I both know that she’s here to chat up Hal, or at least try to because the guy is dumber than a box of fucking rocks when it comes to her.
“Everything okay, boys?” Ginger asks as she approaches the group. “Can I get you guys anything?” She’s speaking to everyone, but her eyes are locked on Hal.
We’re all standing there, hoping Hal says something, but after a few moments it becomes uncomfortable. “We’re good Ging, thanks,” I say.
She diverts her eyes from Hal and walks away with a shy smile on her face.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I ask.
“You have no room to talk,” he says.
Fuck.
“What does that mean?” Grayson pries.
“Nothing,” I reply.
“He’s got the hots for the new bartender,” Hal chimes in.
Fucker. That’s all I need. Three of them giving me shit. Not to mention Gabe and Ginger.
“There are a lot of women I’d like to fuck. That doesn’t mean I’m going to,” I reply.
“Look, but don’t touch,” they say in unison.
The phrase kind of became my mantra after shit with June went down. I run a high end night club that hires only the most beautiful women. So, while I can look at them and appreciate their beauty, I will never touch. Up until now, until Chloe, I’ve never been tempted to break my rule. Everything about Chloe tempts me though. Enough that I did break it. Not only have I touched Chloe, I kissed her. Even worse, I don’t regret it. Not one damn bit. That being said, I have no intention of letting it happen again.
I glance at the women surrounding us.
“Pick one, Griffin. They are all here. They are all available. They are yours for the taking.” As I look at them, trying to find one that affects me half as much as Chloe does I realize that I can’t. No one has ever affected me the way she does. Not even the one woman that I thought I loved.
That right there says it all.
It’s also the exact reason I should stay away from her.
“Good, then you won’t mind that some dude is hitting on her hard core right now,” Hal says.
My head whips in her direction so fast I damn near get whiplash. There she is, leaning on the bar, her tits on display for none other than Dylan Abrams. She’s laughing at something he said. Rage like I have never felt before fills me.
Fuck that.
I finish the whiskey in my hand before heading behind the bar to Chloe’s station.
“Come with me,” I say as I grab her elbow.
She pulls her arm away. “I’m talking to someone.”
“I’m your boss,” I remind her.
I hear Dylan mutter something, but I’m so focused on Chloe and my jealousy induced rage I can’t actually process the words. Nor do I care. He was hitting on Chloe. My Chloe.
Fuck.
“Please,” I grit out between clenched teeth.
“What do you need?” she asks.
“My office, now,” I growl.
Chloe leans across the bar and whispers something to Dylan before moving past me and off the floor. She pushes the door open and enters my office, stopping in the dead center of it. Her back is to me as I speak. “Customers are off limits.”
“Excuse me?” she laughs. She’s facing me now, an incredulous look on her face.
“You heard me.”
“So, I can’t talk to a customer, but you can fuck every single female one that walks past you.”
“My club, my rules,” I remind her.
“I guess I need to add hypocrite to the list of reasons why I hate you.”
Seeing her with Dylan, laughing and talking infuriated me. As much as I keep telling myself she’s off limits, I keep wanting her more and more. She consumes my thoughts, keeps me up at night. Tonight is no different. Even with the guys here, my attention was solely on her. I should have never kissed her. One taste was all it took to fucking reel me in and allow her to take a hold on me that I never wanted to feel again.
“Hate me? It didn’t seem like you hated me the other day when we kissed,” I say.
“Lapse in judgement.”
“You seem to have a lot of those,” I say. I instantly regret my jealousy driven words.
“You really are an asshole,” she says.
She tries to move around me, but I step in front of her.
“Get out of my way.”
I take a step toward her as she takes one back.
“You think you can do whatever you want and don’t have to answer to anyone.”
Another step.
The back of her legs hit the desk. I rest my hands on either side of her hips, my lips close to hers.
“Tell me you don’t want me, Chloe. Tell me you don’t want this.”
“Want what?” Her voice is barely a whisper.
I press my lips hungrily to hers, taking what I have been dying to have all night. Her.
As much as I want her to say yes, I need her to say no.
“I still hate you,” she tells me between kisses.
“Noted. Now… Do. You. Want. This.” I repeat the words.
There is a slight nod of her head. “What about your rules?”
I don’t need the reminder that I’m breaking my rules, or how wrong this is. I already know that. But having her here, her warm body against mine, I don’t give a fuck about my rules anymore. All I want is her. Every defiant piece. Every piece that hates me. When most woman just fall at my feet, the fact that she hates me, that I need to prove myself to her… it’s a turn on I have never experienced before.
My hands fist the material of her dress where it hits at her thighs. I shove it up so that it rests around her waist. All that stands between me and me burying inside of her is the slightest scrap of black lace. She moans into our kiss as I run my finger along the already soaked fabric. Her arms wrap around my neck, pulling me closer to her as if I could walk away from this. I push her thong down. It falls to her feet and she gracefully steps out of them. The moment she does I hoist her onto the desk, all the while our lips never break our kiss. I can’t – I’m not giving her a second to rethink this or back out of it.
I’m not a patient man to begin with and the way I want this woman, it’s seriously wearing thin. I finally pull away from her, sinking to my knees before her.
“Griffin,” she moans as my tongue presses against her wet folds. Her hands are in my hair and she’s already wound so tight that I’m fairly certain she’s already on the verge of her first orgasm. I slowly press a finger inside her. “Oh, fuck.” When she arches into me, I take advantage of the access to her the position gives me. I maneuver my finger in and out of her, increasing the pace as I feel her begin to tighten around me. She’s close, I can feel it. My tongue works her clit, pressing against the swollen bud.
She cries out my name as her orgasm washes over her. From between the “v” of her thighs, I look up at her. There’s a satisfied smile on her face and she sure as hell doesn’t look like she hates me anymore.
I rise to my feet and step between her legs, pressing my lips that are covered in her juices, against her lips. Her hands drop to my belt. The moment her hand touches my cock, I lose control. I shove my unbuckled pants down to my feet. As much as I love the way she’s stroking me, I need to be inside her.
“Lie back,” I instruct her. And, for the first time since I’ve met her, she doesn’t argue with
me. She lies back on the desk, her legs wrapping tightly around my waist.
“You want to see them, don’t you?” she says with a smirk.
“I want to see all of you, taste every piece of you, but I’m kind of losing my restraint here,” I admit.
She moves the material of her dress down, her gorgeous tits freeing for me.
“Christ, you are spectacular.”
“Fuck me, Griffin.”
Who am I to argue with a request like that?
I line myself up at her entrance. The warm, wet heat is almost too much to bear. I sheathe myself in the condom that I had on my desk. The one that’s always there for opportunities just like this. Ones like this, but that really don’t compare, because as I sink into her I feel like I have died and gone to heaven.
I rock into her slowly, the soft gasps that escape her are almost as pleasurable as the feel of her. Yes, she knows all about pleasure. Hell, she is the definition of pleasure.
One night, to be with her. One night to learn every piece of her and put it to memory.
With one hand on her hip, I reach the other up to massage her breast. As my thumb flicks over her nipple, she lets out the sexiest moan. Well, if she likes that…
I close my mouth over her taut nipple, gently sucking on it. The more attention I pay it, the more she grinds against me, the more she makes that sinfully good sound. With my teeth, I gently tug on it.
“Harder,” she breathes.
So I do. I give it to her harder. I bite down on her a little harder, I pump into her a lot harder. The more she moans, the quicker I can feel my release coming. She lifts her hips, my cock bottoming out in her. I thrust into her, into the deepest depths of her with everything I have.
“Oh, fuck,” I yell out as my orgasm hits me.
I don’t pull out, I stay buried in her for a moment, collecting this to memory, savoring every last second.
When I do finally move, break that connection that we made, I feel empty and uncertain. Uncertain how I move forward from here, because this woman, she does something to me. Something that I don’t understand. Something that terrifies me. I turn from her as I button up my pants.