But those things I’d decided?
They were short and they were simple.
I missed her.
There were things in my life that were expected of me. Up until recently, I hadn’t thought much of them. I’d just accepted them.
It was like the sky was blue, even when the clouds hid it.
The sun would rise.
I was rich.
And it was expected that I would marry or at least cohabitate with a socially acceptable female. Gotta carry on the family name somehow, right?
But…I didn’t want to.
A socially acceptable female was somebody like Penelope Harrington, and if I had to come home to that bitch even one night, I knew I’d walk in front of a speeding SUV with my arms spread out. I’d welcome the ugly, messy death, because at least that would be fast. Any sort of life with Penelope would be a slow, miserable death. She would suck every bit of me out, and I don’t mean in the hot and sexy way that involved her mouth and any kind of pleasure on my part or hers.
Socially acceptable. Duty. Expectation.
Those lay in one direction and I knew it.
The woman in front of me was something else entirely, and I was starting to realize that she was the last sort of woman I needed in my life. But she might also be the only woman who ever mattered.
She wouldn’t stand calmly and aloofly at my side as I discussed my next business deal. When cutting remarks were made about class or race among those in my social circle, as they often were, Aleena would cut back. And she’d make damn sure everybody in listening distance heard just how idiotic and shallow they all came across.
Now, she sat across the table from me in silence, twisting her fork in the pasta I’d ordered for lunch, her eyes meeting mine with cool defiance. The one thing I wanted more than anything was to knock the whole fucking table out of the way and grab her, shove her skirt up and pull her down on my cock.
She was mine.
With a clarity unlike anything I’d ever known, I knew that one thing.
Aleena was mine.
It took all the patience I had to eat maybe half of the food on my plate. Then I leaned back and sipped from the wine I’d selected. She wouldn’t choose. I’d brought in four different wine selections, all vintages I knew she liked, but she had just shrugged them off and refused to show any interest, so I went with the one I thought she’d enjoyed the most.
She’d had maybe three sips.
She’d eaten four bites of pasta and pushed the food around.
Finally, she put the fork down and stopped even pretending to eat, leveling me a look that should have pissed me off. If she had been anybody other than who she was, I would’ve been hard-pressed to keep my temper.
If I had to put a caption on that look, it would’ve been simple: Bite Me.
I was tempted to do just that.
“I’ve been thinking…” I put the glass of wine down and tossed my napkin beside it.
Aleena lifted a brow. Her voice was coolly professional. “Should I get my planner?”
“No.” I wouldn’t rise to the bait. There was no reason. “This isn’t related to business. It’s personal.”
“Oh, really?”
Aleena’s eyes narrowed as she studied me. The moment stretched out and I felt like a microbe caught between slides, examined by her. Refusing to let her get under my skin, I hooked one ankle over my knee and gave her a cocky smile. “We never have really talked about…us.”
I expected a reaction from that.
The good thing about expectations? If you have them, they are almost always met.
The bad thing? They are rarely met in the way you hoped.
Aleena stared at me for a long minute, and then she shook her head and started to laugh.
That laugh echoed. Through the silence of the office, off the walls and back to my ears. It echoed and rang and the only way I was able to sit there and not react was because I’d had too many fucking years of not reacting, of not allowing myself the luxury of reacting.
But it was an effort.
That laugh was jagged and harsh, full of mockery and misery and loathing. But I couldn’t tell who it was directed at. Herself…or me.
“Us?” she finally said. Aleena leaned forward and grabbed the glass of wine that had been put in front of her nearly thirty minutes earlier. She drank half of it and then put the glass down.
“Us?” she repeated, staring at me with speculation. “Exactly what us do you mean, Dominic? There is no us.”
“Of course there is,” I snapped.
She surged upright then, moving with such speed that she sent the wine glass flying. Drops of ruby red splattered on the floor, but she didn’t even look. Her pale green eyes locked on mine and she sneered at me. “Us? Oh, bite me, Dominic. The only us that exists is the us that suits you. You want me in your fucking bed—excuse the pun there. That’s it. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like a real break before we get back to the interviews—”
She’d delivered those words as she strode to the door, the final words said over her shoulder. Before she could open the door, I slammed my hand against it.
She turned and glared at me. “Do you mind?”
“Yes.” Then I jerked her up against me and slanted my mouth over hers.
She didn’t respond.
Just then, I didn’t care. I would make her react. I knew she wanted me.
She went to shove me away and I caught her wrists, dragged them over her head, my lips forcing hers apart. When I traced my tongue along her bottom lip, she shuddered.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” I whispered against her mouth. Slowly, I lifted my head and stared down into her eyes.
She was panting, her breath coming in hard, labored gasps. I could feel each ragged, unsteady rise and fall. I could feel her nipples, even through the layers of her bra and blouse, through my own clothes. Still watching her, I lifted a hand and cupped her breast, peering into her eyes as I circled the swollen peak with my thumb. “You don’t want this?”
“You son of a bitch,” she said, her voice rough. “You know I do.”
I caught the hem of her skirt and dragged it up.
She wore stockings, the kind that ended high on her thigh. I toyed with the wide band of lace, traced the edge with my fingers before I caught the thin strip of cotton that covered her crotch. A miserable excuse for panties. A woman like her should be wearing silk and lace. She whimpered as I ran my finger across the damp material. Tugging it out of the way, I bent my head and whispered into her ear, “Unzip me, Aleena.”
For a few seconds, the world froze. Nothing happened.
Then, I felt her fingers moving between us and fire flooded me, arcing between us as she slid her hand inside my open fly and freed me, wrapping her hand around my cock and stroking. Up, down, up, down…I didn’t realize I was blindly pumping into her touch until a warning jolt of pleasure raced down my spine.
Snarling, I caught her hand and shoved it over her head. Not like that.
Her eyes were wide. Slowly, I bent my knees to accommodate for the difference in our height and then, angling my hips, I waited for consent. I would push her, but I would never truly force her. I could never do that to anyone, let alone someone I–
She caught my cock and guided me to her entrance.
I drove in, deep, hard and fast. Home.
She shuddered and brought up one knee.
I caught the other and lifted her. She clung to me as I carried her across the room, over to the table. My cock was painfully hard, my body begging me to thrust, to lose myself in her.
I swept one arm out, knocking dishes and glasses aside. Dishes went flying. Wine splattered and then I put her down, spread her out just the way I’d imagined. A drop of ruby red wine clung to her cheek, another on her lip, several on her neck and chest.
I licked each one way as I thrust deep and hard inside her.
“You.” I drove into her. “Are.” Again. “Mine.”
&
nbsp; Aleena closed her eyes, turning her face away from me.
I cupped her chin, making her face me. “Look at me.”
Slowly, her lashes lifted.
“Mine.” When she didn’t respond, I bent down and bit her lip. She shuddered and I felt the wet, snug grip of her pussy tighten around my dick. “Say it, Aleena.”
She arched against me. Her voice broke as she whispered, “Yes, sir.”
It wasn’t what I wanted.
But in the moment, it was enough.
***
“We should discuss where this is going.”
Aleena stood with her back to me, adjusting her clothing. Her hands hesitated only a second and then she glanced over her shoulder. “And where is it going, Dominic?”
I miss you.
The words were right there.
They really were.
I wanted to tell her.
I could even hear myself saying it.
I thought I could even see the way her eyes would soften. She’d reach for me. We could…
The phone rang.
Its shrill ring shattered the silence and I looked away. Neither of us moved to answer it, but it didn’t matter. Clearing my throat, I finished adjusting my clothes. “We both want things outside a business relationship, Aleena. We’d be lying to ourselves if we tried to pretend otherwise.”
Aleena, her back to me, didn’t acknowledge my words.
I wanted to press my lips to the elegant curve where neck gave way to spine.
I wanted to cup my hands around her breasts, pull her against me and tell her whatever she wanted to hear.
Instead, I waited in silence.
“Let’s not lie to ourselves, right, Dominic?” she said, her voice oddly empty.
I had the feeling I was still missing something. “We both want the same thing. Each other.”
“The same thing. Of course.” She nodded and went into the restroom to finish cleaning up.
Something was still wrong. I walked past her as she came out of the bathroom and I closed the door behind me, confused and, despite what had happened, unsatisfied. She was at the table, setting it to rights when I came out of the small restroom.
“Leave it,” I said irritably.
“It won’t take long.” She shrugged and righted a wine glass, placed a plate and a serving dish in its former place. “I—”
“The party at Eddie’s.”
She glanced at me, her lips in a flat line. “Amber has everything ready, of course.”
Out. You know…for a drink. Dinner. We’ve never done that.
Her words from last week rang in my ears. I don’t know why. But they did.
The dull look in her eyes, followed by ice.
Of course, we’re having lunch in. I’d planned on going out, but…well. Fuck that idea.
“I’ve got a number of things to get done before the next appointment arrives,” Aleena said, skirting to go around me. “And I’m sure there are things you need to do.”
I caught her wrist. “I thought perhaps you and I could attend Eddie’s party…together.”
“I wasn’t planning on doing anything more than making a work-required appearance. I wouldn’t want to take away from your fun.”
Pieces fell into place. Every time she’d tried to get us to go out somewhere, I’d shut her down, wanted to stay in. Because I hadn’t wanted to share her. But she didn’t think that. She thought I didn’t want anyone to know we were together.
“I’d prefer to have you there with me the whole time.”
Aleena’s eyes flew to mine and she stumbled, all but crashing into my chest. My arms automatically went out to catch her and I couldn’t help but think how naturally we fit together.
She looked surprised, but still wary. I managed a smile and had to clarify my previous statement. I wasn’t ashamed to be with her, but I wasn’t making some sort of commitment either. “It’s a dinner party, Aleena. We both have to attend. Why not go together?”
Chapter 8
Aleena
Why not go together?
Easy question, right?
Except when I still didn’t know what ‘together’ meant.
Now, after all those days of brooding and wondering why we hadn’t ever gone out on a date, here I was, standing in front of a mirror, brushing makeup onto my eyelids and half-wishing I’d told Dominic to find somebody else.
Somebody like…oh, Penelope Rittenour.
She would have loved to have gone to this party with Dominic. I could practically see her picking out wedding patterns. In the past couple of weeks, Dominic and I had traveled back and forth between New York and Philadelphia so often, I felt like I was running into my own shadow and when I wasn’t running into my shadow, I was running into hers.
She seemed to have developed a radar and knew exactly when to be in the New York office, coming in just as we were or leaving a nearby spa just as we happened by. She’d dropped heavy hints about spending a day in Philadelphia and it would be so lovely to have some companionship.
I, of course, had been completely ignored during these conversations. I hadn’t really minded, not wanting to waste the breath it would have taken to speak to her.
The phone rang, pulling me out of my thoughts and I took the call, putting Molly on speaker so I could finish my makeup.
“You haven’t gone and chickened out yet?” Molly asked. I chuckled under my breath and Molly laughed. “Come on. You’ve been wanting him to ask you out on a real date and now he’s doing it. Why are you so nervous?”
We’d been up until midnight talking. I’d thought it would help settle the nerves. It hadn’t.
“I don’t know,” I said, sighing. Straightening, I studied my reflection, angling my head left, then right. I’d made an appointment with a stylist the concierge had recommended. I hardly ever bothered paying somebody to do my hair, but this dinner party was important. Besides, I’d hoped the small bit of pampering would make me relax.
It hadn’t.
But at least my hair looked damned good, smooth and straight, pulled up and back into a complicated twist that I’d never have been able to manage on my own. Butterflies, bunny rabbits and buffalos seemed to be dancing around in my belly and I pressed my hand to it, hoping they’d get the point and settle down.
“I should have said no.” Hindsight was such a bitch. “I mean, come on, Moll. He didn’t really ask me out. He was pointing out the fact that both of us had to go and that he’d want me there the whole time. Of course he’d need me there. It’s an important business venture.”
“You’re being stupid. Of course you’re both working. If he didn’t want you to think of it as a date or anything, he just wouldn’t have said anything about it. He wanted to make sure you knew it was a date and wasn’t planning to bring anybody.” Molly explained everything with the same tone she’d use when talking to an idiot.
Rolling my eyes at the phone, I thought about arguing with her and pointing out all the holes in that argument. But I caught sight of the time. Groaning, I said, “I need to finish getting ready.”
“Oh, please do…hey, I’m hanging up. Wait! Face-time! I wanna see your dress.”
I went to argue, but she’d already hung up. The phone chimed again and when Molly’s face appeared on the phone, I made a face at her.
She wolf-whistled at me when I put the phone back down and turned to get my dress. “Love the panties, Aleena. So much sexier than what you usually wear!”
I ignored her and tugged the dress off the hanger.
I’d found it online a few weeks ago and bought it on a whim. It wasn’t a designer piece—or, well, it was, but not the sort of designer piece that Fawna had taken me shopping for. It was a retro-styled ivory silk wiggle dress and thanks to the built-in shape-wear, it fit like a dream and outlined every curve I had.
It took some wiggling to get into it and I was grimacing by the time I smoothed it into place. “I wonder if that’s where the name for the stupid design came
from,” I muttered, turning around and looking into Molly’s grinning face.
“I feel like I should be tucking a dollar into your bra or something,” she said.
“Pervert.” I stuck my tongue out and looked at my reflection. “How do I look?”
“Like some starlet straight out of the glamour days of Hollywood.”
I glanced at the phone and quirked an eyebrow at Molly.
She made a little X over her chest. “Cross my heart. You look amazing. I wish I had the T and A for that sort of style.”
“T and A?”
“Tits and ass, girl.” Molly wiggled her eyebrows at me. “You’re going to knock him dead.”
Sighing, I went back to studying myself in the mirror. I’d swiped out the chain on my grandmother’s necklace for a slightly longer one, leaving the pendant to nestle between my breasts but I looked…bare. The dress lay low on my shoulders and while my skin glowed softly against the ivory silk, I felt like I needed something else.
I didn’t have anything though.
“Aleena?”
“Yes?” I asked absently.
“Try to have fun, okay?”
“Yeah.” I smiled, but it looked as fake as it felt. This was going to be a disaster. I knew it. “Of course, I’ll have fun.”
***
I had the suite across from Dominic’s.
Our two rooms were the only ones on the top floor. His was the presidential suite, although palatial would probably have been more accurate.
Mine wasn’t anything to sneer at though and I wished I’d had the time to appreciate it more, but as it was, the only thing I’d done was collapse on the lake-size bed or collapse into the lake-size Jacuzzi tub or watch TV from the massive couch. That is, when I wasn’t working my ass off, which had been ninety-nine percent of the time.
Right now, I was standing at the window, staring out over the skyline of Philadelphia. It was so different from New York. They were both old cities, but so much of the new in New York had swallowed up the old. In Philadelphia, they blended. Two things that should have been at odds, that shouldn’t have looked right side-by-side, came together in this wonderful, enchanting city.