Dirty Filthy Rich Men

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Dirty Filthy Rich Men Page 14

by Laurelin Paige


  I started to say something in protest about Weston, but then Donovan reached for my other foot and began to repeat his massage, and my focus was captured once again.

  “He’s going to stay interested in you longer than usual, I predict,” Donovan continued while I swallowed back a groan, “simply because it’s forbidden right now. That’s intriguing to him.”

  He found a particularly sensitive spot, and he pressed his thumb in deeper.

  I bit my lip.

  “But after the wedding ring comes off, he’s going to get bored and that’s a fact. It’s his M.O. So don’t bother shedding tears about it. It’s nothing to do with you.”

  Donovan paused massaging and speaking, waiting to make sure I understood.

  What I understood was how good his hands felt on me, but hurriedly I mentally replayed everything he’d just said, putting his words into context.

  I ran two fingers across my forehead. “Let me see if I get this. ‘Go after Weston; you’d be good for him, but don’t be bummed when he gets tired of you; that’s just his thing.’ Correct me if I’m wrong, but that almost sounds like you’re reversing your endorsement for our coupling.”

  If Donovan were actually trying to keep me from being with Weston…well, that would have implications. Implications that I wasn’t sure what to do with. Though I liked the way they felt to think about, even as tentative as they were.

  “Not at all. I’m doubling down on the endorsement not only by giving you this warning but also by telling you what you should do to make sure he doesn’t get tired of you.”

  “You’re going to tell me how to keep Weston interested.” The disappointment in my voice sounded a lot like incredulity. Maybe it was both.

  “I am. You have to recognize that the problem lies with Weston. He’s a seemingly open book, but the reason he hasn’t had a serious relationship with anyone is because he’s never let a woman get past the persona he puts up to see his true self.” Donovan’s hands moved up to my ankle, burning my skin through my stockings.

  How was it possible that he could both brand me and give me away all at once? It wasn’t the first time. How was I not used to it?

  I wrapped my hands along the edge of the table, needing the support.

  “If you want to find a place in his heart, you have to get there first.”

  “Easy enough,” I said sarcastically. Maybe Donovan’s guidance was meant to be generous, but it tasted sour. It wasn’t the advice I wanted.

  “I can’t tell you how to do it exactly. You’re going to have to work that out yourself. But I figure you should know something about hiding, since you do it so well.”

  I tried to pull my foot away, but his grip tightened.

  “You don’t know anything about me,” I lied.

  “Oh, Sabrina,” he chided. His conceit irritated me. Why did it arouse me as well?

  “While we’re on the subject”—his hands moved slowly up my leg—“you aren’t going to be true to yourself when you’re with him. You know that, already. You’ll have to accept it.”

  I shook my head. He couldn’t really be saying what I thought he was saying.

  “Don’t shake your head at me. You know what I’m talking about. He’s not going to be able to fulfill you sexually.”

  “You know I’ve slept with him.”

  “Thank you for the painful reminder. I’m sure you’ll tell me he made you come, too. But you and I both know there’s more to sexual fulfillment than just having an orgasm, so unless you can tell me that he can make you sleep through the night, then let’s not talk about what Weston does for you in the bedroom.”

  My breathing was so shallow now, my arms covered in goose bumps. How could he know that about me? That I had trouble sleeping? That it was only my dirty fantasies that helped me rest through the night?

  He couldn’t know that, that’s how. It was coincidence.

  And I was taking all of this too seriously.

  I let out a long breath and allowed him a smile. “This is the most fascinatingly bizarre conversation I’ve ever imagined having with you.”

  Donovan’s caress changed as I relaxed. It was lighter now, long strokes up the length of my calf and to my knee. I shivered.

  “Have you imagined many?”

  My smile faded. I’d given myself away. Yes. I’d imagined so many conversations with him over the years, but there was no way I could tell him the things we’d talked about in my head.

  “I have,” he said, his voice thick.

  The air suddenly felt heavier, like it was harder to breathe it in, and it didn’t matter anymore that he was an asshole or that he was giving me advice about Weston because he’d imagined us too.

  “What do we say to each other?” I asked tentatively, afraid to break the honesty.

  “We say a lot of things.” He placed a hand on my opposite calf and stood up, his fingers trailing up my legs as he rose. “Sometimes we say nothing at all.”

  He was standing in front of me now. My legs nudged open wider, instinctively. Automatically he moved closer, filling the gap and pressing right up against the table.

  I hated how much I wanted him to kiss me.

  “Why do you do this to me?” I whispered.

  His lips hovered above mine. Dancing. Teasing. “Do what?”

  “Trap me like this.”

  “It makes me feel like I have you.”

  I ached at my core. “I don’t want you to feel like you have me.”

  “Are you sure of that?”

  I wasn’t, and the joke was we both knew it. Every reason I had for staying away from him was valid, but if he kissed me now, I wouldn’t be able to stop. If he kissed me now...

  I tilted my chin up.

  “Whoops! Sorry to interrupt.” One of my team leaders stood at the door, his hands covering his eyes.

  Fuck.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck!

  There wasn’t a rule about dating across departments, but this wasn’t the reputation I wanted.

  I pushed Donovan away and jumped down. “It’s fine, Tom. What’s up?”

  Tom lowered his hand, seemingly relieved that he wasn’t in trouble for what he’d walked in on. “They have a campaign. Meeting in the conference room now to see the presentation.”

  “Excellent. I’m right behind you.” I waited until Tom was gone before turning back to slip on my shoes. “I have to go,” I said to Donovan, unable to look him in the eye.

  “Right. I’ll see you around.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded and hurried to the conference room with my insides twisted up in knots, pretending it didn’t mean anything that Donovan had sounded as confused as I felt.

  Sixteen

  “This is the first emergency Friday morning meeting I’ve called at the executive level, that I can recall,” Nate said, looking to Weston for confirmation, “but I’m happy to say it’s for a celebratory cause. We have landed the Phoenix account!”

  Cheers erupted throughout the conference room. Roxie had already told me the minute I’d walked in the office, but my team and all of Nate’s team had yet to hear the news. Whoops and hollers and hugs were shared, even a few tears.

  Nate waited for the room to settle before continuing with his speech. “Word came in late last night. You all put in your best work. I’m very proud of what you brought to the table. Party on us tonight at Red Farm. Upper West Side location.”

  I zoned out as Nate went through the details of the project timelines. Accidentally, I caught Donovan’s eye across the table. I’d been avoiding him since Tuesday, or he’d been avoiding me. I wasn’t quite sure, but every time we came in contact with each other, we both immediately ducked away in the opposite direction.

  Now, I lowered my eyes quickly. My gaze landed on Weston who was typing furiously on his cell next to me.

  It’s going to seem weird if my fiancée isn’t at the celebration, don’t you think?

  He held his screen so it was visible when Elizabeth’s reply came through.r />
  At this short notice, I don’t give a fuck. I’m not at your beck and call.

  With an audible huff, he stuffed his phone in his suit pocket and sat back in his chair.

  Trouble in fake paradise, it seemed. Not that Weston’s pairing with Elizabeth had ever been paradise. I sort of felt sorry for him. Though, really, what did he expect when he let Donovan arrange a marriage for him?

  I’d been back to wondering about that over the past few days. Why had Donovan suggest they marry after finding out that I’d be coming to work at Reach? And why did he continue to push me into a relationship with Weston while, at the same time, he acted like he was attracted to me? Was that all in my head?

  On top of everything else, there was a very real chance there was now a rumor about Donovan and me after having been caught in such an intimate situation. Thoughts of the potential gossip made me groan inwardly. Here I was, finally making strides with my career. I wasn’t ready to have it tainted by talk that I’d slept my way to my position.

  Not to mention what Weston would say if he found out. If I were going to start a relationship with someone else in the office, then fine, but I needed to be the one to tell Weston. Especially if the relationship were with Donovan.

  Which it wasn’t because there was no relationship. There was no relationship, nothing had happened, and I’d been tormented about it ever since. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Couldn’t stop thinking about what had almost happened, what I’d wanted to happen, what he had wanted to happen.

  What was he trying to do to me?

  I dared another glance in his direction. He was staring right at me this time. He didn’t even pretend to look away when I caught him, and then, somehow, I couldn’t look away either.

  Whatever he was trying to do to me, I was afraid it might already be done.

  When the meeting ended, I gathered my things in a hurry, intending to make a quick escape to my office.

  “Sabrina,” Weston called, detaining me.

  So much for my getaway plan.

  “Yeah?” I tugged on my hair, noting that Donovan had lingered to talk to someone as well.

  Oblivious to my distraction, Weston smiled proudly. “I wanted to let you know that Phoenix was particularly impressed with our marketing objectives. It was one of the main reasons we landed the account.”

  “I inherited a very qualified and talented team.” Just get through this. Just get through.

  “You did. I know you did.” He shifted his weight to his hip. “Tom Burns also let me know a few things.”

  My attention immediately tuned in on the name Weston had mentioned. Tom Burns had been the guy who’d seen me almost kiss Donovan. “Like what?”

  Weston started to say something but then glanced around the room and seemed to realize we weren’t alone. “We should talk about it privately. Meet you upstairs in my office in fifteen?”

  “Sure.” My heart was beating so hard I was surprised it wasn’t boring a hole through my chest. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

  As soon as Weston left the conference room, I dropped my notebooks and my phone on the table and placed my palms down on the wood to brace myself. I took a deep breath. Then another.

  Then another.

  This wasn’t even really that big of a deal because there wasn’t anything going on with Donovan. The problem was in all the details—would I tell Weston the rest? That I’d slept with Donovan in college? That I’d been fixated on him then?

  That I was fixated on him now?

  Sensing I was already struggling, Donovan of course had to come bother me more. Leaning against the table, he said smoothly, “If you’re that worried about what a staff member might be saying about you, you’re probably engaging in behavior that you shouldn’t be engaging in.”

  I shot him a glare that I hoped held the weight of the angst I was feeling. “This is fun for you, isn’t it?”

  He shrugged. “It’s not the worst day I’ve had at the office.”

  His cavalier attitude only added to my misery. I’d been tense and nervous and wanting him for three days and when he finally approached me, it was just to make me feel worse?

  I couldn’t take it. Not right now, anyway.

  “Was that your goal all along?” I snapped. “Get employees talking about you and me so that I’d have a harder time with Weston?”

  “Are you feeling guilty about you and me?”

  “Jesus, you’re incredible.” I didn’t know how I continued to be dumbfounded by the things he said to me, but I did. “You think this is a game. Push me toward Weston, pull me away. Push but then put an obstacle in the way. Push but flirt with me at the same time so I don’t know what it is you really want.”

  “Don’t be silly. I want you and Weston to work out more than anyone.” He really was a good liar. Better than I was, I realized.

  But I wasn’t challenging him about this, not in the conference room, not when there were already rumors flying about the two of us, especially not when there wasn’t any reason to believe he’d ever be truly honest.

  I gathered my things off the table. “I’m sure you do want me with Weston. Because that will be another fun game when you tear us apart.”

  I spun on my heels, and without looking back, left Donovan behind.

  After a brief trip to the restroom to freshen up and calm down, I went back up to the executive floor. I dropped my things off in my office and headed to Weston’s.

  “He wanted to see me,” I said to Roxie as I walked up. Weston’s door was open and the glass was clear. I could see he was at his desk, typing something into his phone.

  “He’s in there. Go on in.” I’d just passed her desk when she added, “He’s in a mood though. I warn you.”

  “I heard that,” Weston said from his office.

  “You were meant to.” His assistant was no-nonsense, one of the things I liked best about her.

  Which meant if Roxie was warning me about Weston’s mood, that was a bad, bad sign.

  I walked in, rubbing my mother’s cross at my neck for good luck. “Hey, what’s up? Is there a problem?”

  “Not exactly.” He threw down his phone and heaved another sigh like he had when he’d been texting with Elizabeth during the meeting earlier. Then, as if on second thought, he opened a desk drawer and threw his phone inside instead.

  “Have a seat,” he said, brighter now that his cell was out of sight.

  I slunk down in one of the chairs facing him and willed my toe to stop tapping so nervously. “I’m here.”

  “You’re here.” He smiled. “Anyway. As I was saying downstairs, Tom Burns spoke to me yesterday, and he had some interesting things to say about you.”

  “Really? Like what?” I peered back at the office door. Weston hadn’t bothered to shut it. I should have closed it when I’d walked in. Now Roxie would hear everything.

  It was fine. I’d just lie. About everything I’d ever thought about Donovan. Even though I was a terrible liar.

  Weston stood up and circled around so he was standing right in front of me. He leaned back, half sitting on the desk behind him, but he was still looming above me, and I panicked and bolted to a standing position so I could feel like I was on an even playing field.

  “Whoa,” Weston said. “You okay?”

  “Yep. Just edgy today.” It was true enough for me to pull off. “Go on. Tom said…?”

  “That you stayed as late as anyone else, and that you provided some of the last minute additions to the project, such as the global message component. That was one of the selling points in the strategy.”

  Huh. There was nothing terrible or grumpy or embarrassing about that. I eased my weight onto my hip. “Really?”

  “Yes. Really. I wanted you to know your commitment to your team didn’t go unnoticed. Everyone seems to be responding really well to you. The staff likes you. Your team likes you, and I’m really glad you came.” He reached out and tugged the same piece of hair I was holding.


  “Thank you. I appreciate that.” My nerves were still jittery with adrenaline. I hadn’t expected to be complimented. I was flustered about it. “Was that everything?”

  “Yeah, that’s everything,” he chuckled.

  “Okay, then. Thank you again.” I started to leave and then remembered. “Oh, and congratulations on the account.”

  “Congratulations to both of us.” He raised his palm up in the air. I lifted mine up to give him a high five, and afterward, his hand lingered. As I pulled away to leave, he laced his fingers through mine, not letting go. “You’re coming tonight, aren’t you?”

  My insides dipped and swerved like when I was trying to avoid a deer that had just run in front of my car. It felt wrong to be holding his hand like this. Dishonest—not just because of his arrangement with Elizabeth—but also because of all the things going on in my head about someone else.

  But just then, Donovan walked into Weston’s office, and even though his reasons for being there might have had nothing to do with me, it sure felt awfully coincidental.

  And that made me feel awfully spiteful.

  “Uh, yeah. Of course,” I said to Weston, entwining my fingers in his.

  “Good. I’ll save you a seat.” He held my hand until I was out of reach. “Kincaid. Whatcha got for me? Budgets for the toothpaste campaigns, I’m hoping.”

  I brushed past Donovan as I left the room, letting my arm graze his, which sent sparks of electricity spinning through my body.

  But no matter how nice the dizzying sensation was, it couldn’t erase the shock of seeing a flicker of pain in his eyes when he caught sight of my hand in Weston’s.

  Seventeen

  I thought about Donovan while I dressed for Red Farm later that night. He was definitely not who I wanted to get involved with. Today had proven that. He was confusing and cruel, and he was also right—I should be with Weston. Weston was safe and nice and decent.

  And if it hurt Donovan to see me with Weston, too bad. He’d made his bed. He could be jealous all he wanted. I’d even help him by dressing for the part. I wore my favorite pair of La Perla underwear, a matching sheer nude-colored bra and panty set—not that I planned on getting naked for anyone. They just made me feel sexier.

 

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