ing subtle, that’s for sure. Ten months we’ve been circling each other, Ms. Reid and I.
Ten months I’ve been jerking off to the barely-legal fantasy of her on her knees, me teaching her how to suck my cock just the way I like it.
Ten months I’ve been punishing myself for being such a f*ck
ing pervert. Doesn’t stop me from doing it again the next night. Or morning. That first moment of consciousness when I imagine her sliding down my body, licking my abs as she makes her way to my cock…
I groan and rub my jaw.
“Tough day?”
I glance up.
The bartender—pretty, young, interested—is smiling at me. She’s got straight black hair and bright blue eyes. This is a classy place, so she’s covered from the neck down, but it’s all tight black fabric, and she knows how to stand to show off what she’s got.
It’s meant to be tempting.
I’m not dead, so it works, but just for a second. “I’ll take another of these.” I point at my ginger ale. “I’m working.”
“Sure thing.” She straightens up, her smile shifting from seductive to helpful. “Let me know if you need anything.”
First thing I learned when I came back from London was that “I’m working” was universal code for “I’m a cop.” Which I’m not, but since it’s a made-up, imaginary code invented by bartenders to make sense of a guy like me not drinking in a place like this, I use it to my advantage.
In England, everyone assumed I was either a wealthy American businessman or a spy. That was convenient, because both were true.
And then neither was true, and my life fell apart.
But I pulled myself out of the gutter and now I’m here—watching Alison Dashford Reid cross her legs in that too-short dress for the waiter. I’d say I’m being punished, but other than wanting to bodily move that guy out of the way and enjoy the flash of her thighs for myself, I can’t honestly call this penance.
She’s why I’ve stuck with The Horus Group for nearly a year.
And she’s why I’m going to have to walk away after this weekend.
—three—
Alison
Dinner is fantastic. I feel like a million bucks and I have my sister’s undivided attention.
So why do I care that Scott’s being all chatty with the bartender?
I don’t care.
Liar.
Okay, I do care. I don’t understand why he won’t touch me. I don’t understand why I can’t get over that. I’ve obviously turned him into some kind of romantic hero in my head. My psychology prof would have a field day with this mess.
It would get even worse if I told her about my mother.
“What are you thinking about?” Hailey frowns at me.
“Nothing.” Definitely not the fact that our mother probably has an inappropriate relationship with our grandfather, and I’ve known that long enough that it’s scarred me emotionally, and so far I haven’t been able to bring myself to have sex with anyone. Nuh-uh. Not that.
“You’re thinking about Scott.”
Sort of. “Maybe.”
“Last year, I was so worried he was going to take advantage of you, but now I think it’s him that I need to worry about.”
I stick my tongue out at her. “Your big, bad bodyguard can’t protect himself?”
She laughs. “You’re stubborn. I fear for anyone who gets on the wrong side of you.”
“I’m the nicest.”
“No, you’re the smartest. I’m the nicest.”
“That’s true.”
“Which makes Taylor the what?”
I scowl at Hailey. “Shush. Not on my birthday.”
“Sorry.”
“She sent me a text. Poolside on a rooftop somewhere. Santa Monica weather certainly beats New York this time of year. I might go visit her for Spring Break.”
Hailey’s eyes go super-wide. “No.”
“It’ll be fine.”
Our older sister is a bit…reckless. She’s a party girl, and has never met a scandal she hasn’t wanted to get sticky in. This time last year, she was blowing the Vice President of the United States. And filming it, maybe.
She’s never admitted that she was responsible for the home movie that was leaked of the two of them. But Taylor loves a good splash.
I can see Hailey’s concern. The problem is, she’s way underestimating my ability to say no.
I’m not either of my sisters.
I’m not Taylor. I’m not a party girl, dangerously reckless in search of her next high.
But I’m also not Hailey, hungry for normalcy.
Secretly, I’m a mix of the two of them. I want that reckless release, I just want it in private and with the right man.
“It won’t be fine…” Hailey starts to lecture. I take a big swallow of wine, bigger than is polite. She gives me a look. She usually doesn’t let me drink out in public, but it’s my birthday. I give her a little smile, and her look softens. “Anyway, I’d rather you didn’t go anywhere on your break week, because…reasons.”
“Of the wedding bell variety?”
She tips her head to the side. “Maybe.”
“Okay.”