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The moment is over, but it was everything I wanted it to be and more.
The sight of her is etched into my memory forever. Fucking gorgeous. Her hair is tousled from my hands and from writhing on the table, her lips are plump from my kisses with no trace of her lipstick remaining, andher skin is flushed. And I was right, her nipple is still reddened and stiff, a memory for her as well.
She murmurs a sound I can’t place as she covers herself and then looks away to find her dress.
It’s at my feet, so I grab it for her. I don’t miss that she doesn’t look me in the eyes as she takes it from me.
Awkwardness spreads between us, and I wish we were in my office… or penthouse. Anywhere but here.
I step away to the credenza at the side of the room, disposing of the condom in the trash there before pulling my slacks back up. I pick up a few napkins for us to clean up, and when I turn back around, she’s silently righted her bra and is holding her panties. I take those from her with a dark look, slipping them into my pocket, and hand her the napkins.
Still catching my breath, I debate on what to tell her as she avoids my gaze. How fucking good she was. How beautiful she looks. But then it dawns on me, from the forlorn expression on her face, that her thoughts are either of regret or of Evan.
Itwasa revenge fuck, after all. We both knew that, so I’m not hurt by her second thoughts. But I wasn’t expecting it to be… as amazing as it was. Clearing my throat, I swallow thickly and wait for her to be ready enough to leave.
Finally, her eyes meet mine, and she blushes as a smirk turns her lips up.
It soothes me in a way that’s unexpected. There’s a moment, a flicker of time, where the easiness of earlier returns, and I’m thankful it’s still there beneath the awkwardness.
She plucks a tissue from the table and wets it on the tip of her tongue before wiping my lips and cheek. “Red’s not your color.” Her hushed tone does something to me. The sweetness in the gesture.Fuck, I want her again.
“I do prefer the color on you,” I admit. “It matches your blush.” I capture her hand and kiss her fingertips. I don’t knowwhy. Our ‘arrangement’ has been concluded. But I don’t want to let go. Her hand stills, and for a moment, both of us freeze.
“We should go,” she whispers, her gaze flicking to the door behind me, and I nod.
This was supposed to be a business arrangement. It was supposed to be a fun physical activity, a ‘revenge fuck’ for Raven and me to both get back at Evan for the wrongdoing he committed against us. But as we leave the conference room behind us, I keep her hand in mine as I lead the way down the hall to the elevator.
I’m about to push the call button when the elevator dings and the doors open before us. Bronson Faulkner emerges with a couple of his cronies, clearly ready for a nightcap. He’s the younger of the Faulkner brothers and more importantly, he’s Evan’s father.
“So I—” Bronson says before the entire group stops, staring. In the silence, Bronson’s eyes go to me, then to the clearly still-disheveled Raven, and to our hands, which are clasped together.
I stare back boldly, daring him to say a single word. Bronson finally gives me a short nod that I return before he leads his buddies away, leaving Raven and me in the empty hallway. “Holy…fuck,”Raven whispers, her face going pale. “Was that…?”
“Yes,” I reply, letting go of her hand to push her into the elevator.
That certainly wasn’t a good look. I don’t care for myself. I can handle any consequences Bronson or Evan dish out. But Raven? I calculate the number of contacts she made tonight who simply won’t return her call once word gets around that I fucked her in the conference room at the charity event. A relationship of sorts is one thing, public sex inside Faulkner’s own kingdom quite another.
And word will definitely spread. Evanwill make sure of that because it paints both Raven and me in a poor light, and he would take delight in that for sure.
My body turns tense, and I hope she doesn’t know. For her sake, I give her a semblance of a smile and kiss her knuckles once more.
Downstairs, the event has wrapped up and people are milling about the hotel lobby, waiting for their chauffeurs and cars to come to the front, and Raven excuses herself to the restroom. While I wait for her, Ollie, of all people, emerges from down the hallway, looking surprised to see me.
“Dylan,” Ollie says, extending a hand again. “Where’s your guest, Raven, was it?”
“Touching up her makeup,” I reply. “The restroom is always crowded as everyone heads out.”
“How true,” Ollie agrees.
“Care for a drink with us?” I offer him, hoping to keep Raven a bit longer tonight and possibly undo any damage caused.
“No, no… I think I’ve had enough for one night, and my driver’s waiting for me,” Ollie says, pointing toward the door.
“Next time, then.”
Ollie claps me on the shoulder, making his exit, and I turn to search the hall where the restroom is for Raven. But I don’t see her. How long is that line?
Finally, my phone pings.
