Bitch (Chauvinist Stories Book 1)

by Elise Faber

  A shaking breath.

  A wet, shaking breath.

  “Honey,” I murmured, worry clouding my voice. I’d hurt her. Fuck. “Did I—?”

  She sucked in air, released it slowly. “Not you, Cole,” she said softly.

  I bit my tongue, wanting to ask. But I’d promised not to press, promised to wait for her to give me only what she was willing.

  Her hand flattened out, resting on my chest above my still slowing heart.

  “It’s just that I find my armor isn’t impenetrable when it comes to you.”

  “Honey.”

  “Shh, Cole,” she said. “That’s all I can give tonight.”

  “It’s enough, honey. It’s more than enough.”

  I pressed a kiss to her forehead, slipping briefly out of bed to clean us both up before I gathered her back into my arms and held her tight, watching the city lights until sleep took us both under.

  Thirteen

  Olivia

  I was wearing flats, and I was not happy about it.

  Cole and I had slept late then had brunch together at a tiny restaurant around the corner from his condo. Then we’d gone back to his place and had sex again. It was just as good as the previous two times, only slower because we both had had at least a modicum of self-control.

  Which meant I’d let Cole kiss me first.

  And not on the lips . . . or well, not on the lips on my mouth anyway.

  The memory of that made me smile, the slight ache between my thighs a pleasant reminder. He’d been thorough in his kissing, adept at proving his skills, particularly good with his tongue and keen on proving it.

  Insatiable man.

  Insatiable me.

  But I was still in flats.

  Because the sneaky butthead had gotten together with Devon to confiscate my heels. He hadn’t said a word either, had just let me get into the Lyft I demanded to take late the night before and dropped me with a kiss at the door, all while knowing that Dev had stopped by my place earlier in the day and had packed up every shoe that had the least bit of style.

  If I didn’t love him, I’d want to punch him.

  Hell, I wanted to punch him anyway.

  Especially when he’d responded to my angry voicemail I’d left at zero-dark-thirty that morning with a kissy face emoji.

  A kissy face.

  Sighing, I flopped back in my chair, mentally cursing him, while also understanding the fact that I’d just thought the dirtiest three words in my vocabulary—I, love, and him—without combusting or spiraling meant that I’d taken some big steps in the last few days.

  I loved him.

  I was wary as fuck about the emotion and what it might mean for our friendship, the risk it posed to my heart, but I’d at least opened my eyes to recognize there was a reason he’d stuck in my life through the years.

  Not many people did.

  Becca. Devon. Cole.

  I loved them all.

  I only wanted to fuck Cole. That was only the slightest difference between what I felt for Devon and Becca, right? I mean, they were both gorgeous and totally fuckable for sure. Cole was just—

  “Ugh,” I muttered, letting my head fall back and my eyes slide closed.

  “It can’t be that bad,” Dev said, “I’ve seen your shoe collection, and your flats are adorable.”

  I was standing even before he finished teasing, making my way around my desk in bare feet because—and I would admit this over my cold dead body—the cut hurt when I crammed my foot into any shoe, let alone one suitable for work.

  I’d even considered slippers that morning for a hellish moment before I’d come to my senses.

  What? I liked my heels, dammit.

  “You”—I pointed at him with narrowed eyes—“are in on Cole’s scheme and so are dead to me. He”—I smiled at the little nugget in the car seat, staring up at me, serious eyes so much like Devon’s that they nearly stole my breath—“on the other hand, is the only male I’m willing to forgive.”

  “Forgive?” Dev asked, not fighting me when I grabbed the car seat and set it on the floor, intent on retrieving Jasper from baby jail.

  “Yes, forgive,” I said firmly, kneeling as I cuddled Jasper close. “I had to wear a skirt because all of my pants are too long.”

  His brows drew together, mouth opening—

  “Forget it,” Becca said, breezing into my office and shutting the door. “You’ll never understand.” She brushed her finger down Jasper’s cheek. “Hey, sweetie,” she murmured, and I felt my uterus clench for the first time in . . . well, ever.

  I wanted one.

  Holy fucking shit. I wanted one.

  What? How? Since when did I think like that?

  Cole.

  “Fucking Cole.”

  I didn’t realize I’d said the last aloud until I glanced up and saw both Becca and Devon’s eyes on me. I’m sure panic was written on my face because Dev immediately straightened, gaze concerned, body language tense. But Becca, fucking incredible woman and assistant she was, knew immediately what was bothering me.

  She scooped Jasper out of my arms and tucked him into Dev’s. Then she opened the door. “Out. The bottle I pumped for him is on your desk.”

  Dev started out, stopped on the threshold. “Is everything—”

  “Go.” She closed the door, flipped the lock. “Tell me absolutely everything.”

  Heart and mind reeling from the assault of my memories two days before, from the emotional interlude with Cole and me realizing my long-held feelings for him, to Jasper and how I’d just realized that beneath the shield of work and distance I might actually want a family someday.

  “My dad died when I was ten, but it all began long before that,” I admitted. “I think my mom was jealous of our relationship or maybe competitive. She didn’t like it when we spent time alone together at all. And at first, it was the little comments. I was pushy, sassy, overconfident.” I shook my head. “My dad talked to her, but things didn’t get better. She just didn’t say them around him. She’d wait until he was at work to tell me I was selfish and needy.”

  Becca touched my arm when I faltered. “A child wanting to spend time with her parent isn’t needy or selfish.”

  “I know,” I murmured. “Or, I guess logically, I know. It’s easy to see that as truth as an adult, but I hear her voice in my head when I’m with Cole. Her telling me that I’m rotten to the core, that I was the reason my dad worked so hard, why he died of a heart attack.”

  “Viv.”

  I bit my lip. “I know,” I said, and my eyes stung. “It wasn’t my fault, but . . . I keep thinking that . . .”

  “Something might happen, and you’ll be the reason why Cole gets hurt.”

  I sniffed. “Fuck. It’s so stupid. He’s the one guy who’s stuck in my life, the one who I’ve made sure sticks, and I’m so fucking scared of being with him and screwing things up.”

  “No,” she said gently. “You’re afraid of letting him in. Afraid he’ll see everything and that you won’t be what he wants.”

  I slumped back against my desk. “Yeah. That. So much for being a strong, powerful, confident woman, huh?”

  “Feelings don’t make you weak, Viv.”

  “Sure feels like it,” I grumbled.

  “They can suck, that’s for sure. But you know what makes that suckage better?”

  “No.”

  “Letting someone else in to share the burden.”

  “Ugh,” I muttered, plunking my head against the wood. “Why did I know you would say that?”

  “Because I’m brilliant.” She scooted next to me, bumped my shoulder with hers. “And you are, too. That’s why you’re recognizing that the thought processes in your head right now aren’t healthy.”

  “That’s the fucking understatement of the year.”

  Becca dropped her head to my shoulder with a soft laugh. “I love you, babe.”

  I sucked in a breath, let my head rest on top of hers. “I love you, too.”<
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  “And just like that, feelings.”

  “And just like that, fired.”

  She snorted. “Yeah right, you’d miss me too much, Viv.”

  Since she was right about that, I didn’t comment, just wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tight. After a long moment, I sighed and disengaged, helping her to her feet once I’d found my own.

  “Fine,” I said, lips twitching. “You’re rehired.”

  She flicked her hair over her shoulder. “I don’t even know if I want to be rehired,” she said and then laughed at what must have been a crestfallen expression on my face. “I think your little man-child of an assistant might shape up yet. And if not, I have a few feelers out. Though next time, you’ll let me do the hiring.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “I would have let you do that if the baby hadn’t come two weeks early.”

  “I would have hired someone sooner if you weren’t in denial. Then I could have trained my replacement fully before I had Jasper.”

  “Fine.” I lifted my palms in surrender. “You win.”

  A beatific smile. “I know. Now,” she said. “I know I’m not technically on the clock, but my assistant switch didn’t just flick off because I pushed out a kid, so I’ve got a two-step plan for Operation Cole.”

  “He gives fantastic oral sex,” I blurted.

  Becca grinned. “I’m glad to hear it, but that’s not on the two-step plan.”

  Damn.

  “Don’t look so disappointed,” she said and held up her cell. “First order of business is an appointment with Dr. Larsen.”

  “Is she a sex therapist or something?”

  Becca laughed. “Something on your mind you’d like to share with the class, Viv honey? Besides his superior oral skills?”

  I shook my head, cheeks warm, but Becca and I had shared enough at this point that I wasn’t critically embarrassed. Especially when it was clear that I did have sex on the brain.

  Three times with Cole wasn’t enough.

  And what did that say about me, that sex was okay, but the other intimacies were frightening as hell?

  Okay, that was true.

  “He has a big dick?” I said.

  Becca snorted. “Why is that phrased as a question? He does or doesn’t?”

  “Oh, he does,” I said and groaned, leaning back against my desk. “I’m so messed up, I don’t even know what I’m saying.”

  “He’s got you twisted up into all sorts of knots, that’s for sure. This”—she held up her phone again—“will help. Dr. Larsen is my therapist.”

  My breath caught.

  “Bec—”

  “I struggled when Dev and I couldn’t get pregnant, kept internalizing everything, thinking it was my fault, my failures.” She took both of my hands in hers. “Then all the stuff from my past kept creeping in and coloring all of my interactions. Dev was great,” she said. “You know how he is. Always has my back, totally on my side. Just like Cole will be. But I couldn’t just take his words at face value. I knew he loved me, knew that would make him forgive almost anything.” She squeezed my fingers lightly. “Eventually, I realized I needed someone outside of the pair of us to talk to. Someone impartial, who wouldn’t judge the spiraling thoughts in my head. And I found Dr. L. You’ll like her, Viv. Trust me.”

  “I—”

  “I made an appointment for you with her this afternoon. Or rather, you’re taking my appointment so you can get in right away.” Her eyes narrowed. “And then you’re giving me my time slot back and finding your own.”

  “I—”

  “And no arguing, missy. You’ll go and talk to her, and you’ll like it.”

  “I—”

  “I said no arguing.”

  “Becca.”

  “What?” she snapped, clearly still expecting me to argue.

  Instead, I hugged her. Tightly. “Thank you,” I whispered in her ear.

  Silence then, she whispered back, “No problem.”

  “Can you make me one promise, though?” I asked as I dropped my arms.

  “Maybe.”

  I chuckled, knowing that she’d bend over backwards for practically anything I asked, so long as I went to the appointment.

  “Can we maybe try to confide in each other, too?” I asked, suddenly nervous that I was requesting something she didn’t want to give. Becca and I were close, had been close for a while, but I was also just realizing that close wasn’t measured in equal parts. She could know how I preferred my coffee, my favorite color of lipstick, that I preferred my meetings after lunch, so I could take care of emails in the morning. But though I could tell anyone her preference for lunch places, and even how she liked her signature line in emails to look, we hadn’t discussed our pasts. Even on a most basic level, she hadn’t known about my parents until a few minutes ago, and I hadn’t even begun to realize she’d thought the infertility was her fault.

  I didn’t want that to continue.

  I wanted more.

  I think that was the biggest change in my thinking over the last few days. That water closing over my head, the panic in not being able to escape, and then finding my rescue in Cole’s arms had shifted things around inside of my heart, my mind. I’d thought it was simply fear of almost dying at first, hadn’t realized that it was actually Cole being there in that moment, when I’d needed him, and then not lording it over me, not making it be anything other than him seeing a person struggle and reaching out a hand to help. But that was Cole crystallized down to his inner essence, and that moment had changed things for me. I’d been vulnerable, my armor weakened enough to let him in. I’d lashed out, pushed him away, and he’d taken everything I’d thrown at him easily. He’d handled me.

  Me.

  A woman who would have said it was not something I enjoyed, had taken pleasure in someone looking out for me. I loved how he smiled at me, eyes warm, lips twitching, loved the heat in his expression when I threw sass his way, loved that he seemed to take each of my moods as something to be enjoyed and not something to merely be tolerated.

  But the thought of that enjoyment fading, of losing that smile, the warm eyes, still tied my stomach into knots.

  And . . . that was why I needed to talk with Dr. Larsen.

  Becca tugged the end of my ponytail. “Asking me questions when your mind is a million miles away again?”

  “I-I’m s—” I stammered, guilt pouring through me. She was right. I—

  She tugged again. “I’m teasing. I know you, Viv, and that’s how I know you were furiously thinking about something else.” A beat. “But it’s also how I know you were doing it thinking about something important.” Her hands dropped onto my shoulders. “We know a lot about each other,” she said softly. “But you’re right. It’s time we learned the really important stuff, too.”

  Relief slid down my spine, and I smiled at her. “You mean something more important than shoe size?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Viv. I mean more than shoes.”

  “Becca?” I asked when her hand was on the doorknob.

  “Yeah?”

  “You said it was a two-part plan.”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  I hesitated. “So, what’s the other part?”

  Gentle eyes met mine over her shoulder. “Viv honey, the other part is that you open up to Cole. That you give him everything and let him help you through to the other side.”

  My breath caught.

  “Steady.”

  I nodded.

  “You got this.”

  Another nod, but I wasn’t as sure as the action depicted. And of course, Becca knew that, too, because she smiled and waved a hand. “Never said the plan didn’t take big ole lady balls.”

  My lips twitched. “That’s true.”

  She waved and opened the door, pausing on the threshold to call back, “By the way, Viv, yours are the biggest I’ve ever seen. Just make sure you use them.”

  I opened my mouth to call something back, but my new phone buzzed in
my hand, and I glanced down at the screen to see a calendar invite with the appointment time and location of Dr. Larsen’s office.

  The woman was efficient.

  Thank God for that.

  I accepted the invite then sat at my desk. I had emails and contract offers to get through, followed by a future life to build.

  It was all just in a normal woman’s workday.

  No big deal.

  Fourteen

  Cole

  I stared down at my phone, rereading the transcription of the message Olivia had left that morning, threatening to dismember me because I’d teamed up with Dev to hold her heels in jail, when it rang.

  Olivia in real time. Perfect.

  I grinned and quickly swiped to answer it. “Hey, honey.”

  Her voice was raspy and filled with emotion. “Hey.”

  My gut sank. “Baby, what’s the matter?”

  She sniffed. “I-I can’t come over tonight.”

  I straightened, jumping off my couch and pacing the across the front room for the apartment. I had DoorDash on the way, flowers on the table, a new pair of Louboutins wrapped and by the couch.

  And Olivia was panicking.

  “What’s happening?”

  Silence in response, and I made a decision.

  “I’m coming over.”

  “What?” she gasped. “You don’t even know where I live.”

  “Then tell me or I’ll call Devon and find out,” I said, shoving my feet into boots. “I’m not leaving you alone Olivia. I know we still have a lot to work out, but that doesn’t mean you get to just push me away.”

  “I can do what I want, Cole,” she snapped, and relief poured through me when the fire returned to her tone. “I’m a grown woman.”

  “You tell me your address or I’m calling Dev.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Calling Dev then,” I growled and hung up, immediately tapping the screen rapidly to contact my friend and agent.

  “Yo,” Dev said.

  “I need Olivia’s address.”

  Dev’s tone grew cold. “What did you do?”

  I strode to the front door. “Fuck you, Dev. I didn’t do anything. We’re trying to see where this thing is between us and she’s panicking and pushing me away. I’m not going to let her.”