Bad Girls Do: a Billionare Romance Novel (The Everly Brothers Series, Erotic Romance Book 3) (12 page)

Just like him.

If he weren’t careful, Diane might be able to work her way under his skin.

The knowledge of that was all too prevalent as Sam stealthily slipped out of his office and headed back down the corridor. It was foremost in his mind when he paused at the door and, after seeing Diane standing inside the conference room with her father, turned and headed for the elevators.

He had to get out of there. Clear his head. He’d head down to the nearest pub and call Zach and Zoey from there. No doubt they’d be up for meeting him for a few rounds of drinks. A game or two of pool. He’d get shitfaced with his friends and have a carefree night on the town.

Anything to forget the images burning up the phone in his pocket. To forget how fucking amazing Diane had smelled. How tight she’d felt clenching around him. Because they’d both been clear about this thing from the start. It was nothing more than meaningless fun.

No matter how much part of him might want to think otherwise.

Chapter Nine

F
ive days had passed since the most thrilling night of Diane’s life. Five days of waiting and wondering when Sam was going to call her, then hating on herself because she’d vowed she wasn’t going to do that. If not for the periodic text messages he’d sent, she would have thought their tryst had meant less than nothing to him.

But, of course, it hadn’t been words he’d been texting her. No, that would have been too normal. Too safe. Instead, each of the three messages she’d received had contained images of her on that desk, all splayed out before him. 

After the initial shock of receiving those texts had worn off, she’d gone back and reexamined the photos. They’d been surprisingly exciting and had sparked memories that kept her on the verge of arousal.

She wanted to see him again. Wanted to experience the amazing feeling of being with him. But she couldn’t be the first one to say it. She might be new at this game, but she knew that much at least.

When they made love again, it had to be because he had initiated it.

Her current train of thought made her scoff. As if she could call what had happened between her and Sam making love. It had been nothing of the sort. They’d had raw, animalistic sex. Or as he would likely say, he’d fucked her good and hard.

And she’d loved every minute of it.

A knock on her office door saved her from further analysis. She looked up just as the door opened and Angela’s head poked inside. “Are you busy?”

“Not really.” She was supposed to be pouring over last month’s figures but, to put it mildly, she’d been distracted. “What are you doing all the way up here?”

Her charity’s office was located on Park and 96th, right on the edge of the Upper East Side and Harlem. Though Angela wasn’t a snob by any means, Diane would venture to guess she rarely made it into this part of town.

“I wanted to see if you were up for lunch.” Angela pushed the door open all the way and leaned on the doorjamb. “I left you a message but you didn’t call me back.”

Diane flushed at the semi-accusatory tone in her friend’s voice. “Sorry.”

Angela had called a couple of times over the past few days, but Diane had blown her off, knowing she would ask about the office party. She was going to tell her what happened between her and Sam. How could she not? But, well…she didn’t know. She’d wanted to keep it to herself a bit longer. Analyze it more before facing Angela’s questions.

Diane glanced at the timestamp on her computer. “I can slip away for a little bit.”

She logged off and grabbed her purse and coat, then led the way to the door, pausing just long enough to inform Teresa, her program manager that she was going out.

“Is there anywhere good to eat around here?” Angela asked as they stepped outside, pulling her heavy brown coat tighter around her body to ward off the winter chill.

“There’s a decent pizza place a few blocks down.”

Angela fell into place beside her and they walked in silence, focusing their attention on the icy patches of yellowy sludge coating the sidewalk. As much as Diane loved the city, this was the one thing she disliked. The awe-inspiring purity of the falling snow all too quickly morphed into a nasty, messy pedestrian hazard.

Diane had to give her friend credit. She’d waited until they’d ordered their slices and cokes, then sat at a table and taken off their cold weather gear before grilling her.

“Don’t think I haven’t realized you’re avoiding me.”

Wincing, Diane said, “Sorry. I just needed some time to think, I guess.”

Angela raised a brow and sat forward. “So, something did happen.”

Mutely, Diane nodded.

Clapping a hand over her open mouth, Angela whispered, “What? Did you two…do it?”

It all sounded so juvenile when she put it that way. But since that was about the gist of it, Diane nodded. “Yes.”

Angela gasped. “When? After the party?”

Yikes.
Even though Diane’s bad girl vow meant she really shouldn’t care, she couldn’t help but be embarrassed. “Not exactly.”

Her friend’s iron grip wrapped around her wrist. “Then when?”

A flush spread over Diane’s face. “Sort of, kind of,
at
the party.”

When Angela half squeaked, half choked, the flush morphed into full-on fiery heat.

“Tell me how
that
happened.”

Diane went over what had occurred without going into specifics about the actual encounter, much to Angela’s consternation.

“Come on, tell me about it,” Angela urged.

“Nope.” She would never be naughty enough to go into those kinds of specifics. There was only so far a good girl could go.

Scowling, Angela said, “At least tell me whether or not it was good.”

But, as it turned out, she didn’t have to because the answering blush on her face gave it all away.

“I knew it,” Angela whispered, absently brushing her wind-blown auburn hair off her forehead. “So, when are you gonna see him again?”

“We didn’t make any plans.”

Angela’s mouth dropped. “Seriously?”

Diane shrugged.

Her friend looked at her incredulously. “And that doesn’t bother you?”

“No.” At least it shouldn’t.

A look of consternation crept to Angela’s face. “Well, you have to see him again.”

“Why do you say that?”

“If he’s inspired you to sleep with him at a crowded office party, just imagine what else he could do? You two might blow that list of yours right out of the water.”

She had a point there.

“We’ll see,” she said to Angela. “I’m not going to get crazy about it. This is just a fling.”

Just a fling.
Which meant she should give it no more than the occasional thought.

That turned out to be much easier said than done, however, especially since Sam sent her a few more texts over the new few days. But when a week came and went with no actual call from him, she’d begun to conclude he was only playing with her emotions. Why else would he tease her with those pictures and not follow through? If they’d made him as hot as they made her, he wouldn’t have been able to stay away for so long.

That thought haunted her all throughout her shower the following Thursday evening.

Maybe you should just call him.

She talked herself out of it as soon as the idea came to her. With all the lovers Diane’s mother had experienced, not once had she seen her mother care enough to seek one out. They always came to her. That was the way it should be.

If Sam wasn’t going to come to her, maybe she should find her fun elsewhere.

Diane worked her hair into a fierce lather, trying to ignore the voice inside her head that said there was no way she was going to do that. Seeking Sam out had taken every ounce of bravado she’d had. Doing it again with someone else seemed impossible.

Especially considering that she didn’t
want
anyone else.

After rinsing off, she wrapped her hair in a towel and slipped on her fluffy white robe before exiting her cavernous en suite bathroom.

The fact that she’d been here in the city for close to a year now and still lived with her father in his massive brownstone hadn’t really concerned her before the New Year. Before Sam. Lately, she’d started thinking she needed to get her own place.

You have to grow up sometime.

Besides, it wasn’t as if she couldn’t afford it.

She stepped into her large combined bedroom and sitting area, then screeched when something scratched at her balcony door.

A pair of eyes appeared on the other side of the French doors, and terror racked her body. Despite all the tales of crime she’d heard while living with her mother in Paris, she’d never had cause to be afraid here in New York City. Not when her father lived in one of the best parts of town and had a security guard manning the premises at all hours of the night. But now she remembered all the horror stories.

Her fear lent her adrenaline as she searched the room for a weapon. The lamp, maybe. It was certainly heavy enough.

But before she could cross the room, a familiar voice filtered in through the tiny crack in-between the doors.

“Diane. It’s me.”

“Sam?” Setting her hands against her heaving chest, she took a better look. Sure enough, even though it was too dark outside for her to see his full features, she recognized the contours of his face.

Her anxiety morphed into annoyance. Scowling, she crossed to the doors and unlocked them, then opened one of the doors a fraction so she could slip out into the frigid night air. Her second-floor balcony overlooked the courtyard below. It was surrounded on three sides by the walls of their townhouse, and the fourth wall belonged to the neighboring building. The seclusion of the courtyard was one of the things she loved most about her father’s home, especially since his own suite of rooms was located up on the fifth floor. She’d never had the occasion—or the nerve—to entertain anyone in her rooms, but it had at least helped to know she could without having to worry about him.

Right now, though, it wasn’t her father she was concerned with. Shivering, she slid her hands into the folds of her robe and searched for the guard. “You crawled up the fire escape? How did you get past Manny?”

A grin crept to Sam’s face as his eyes raked over her body, taking in her robe and her damp hair. “Nice outfit.”

Frowning at the sloppy tone of his voice, she took a closer look. Rough stubble covered his face and his leather jacket was only halfway zipped. A black sweater peeked out from beneath it, and his gloveless hands were partially shoved in the pockets of his coat. He looked completely disheveled, and a little bit toasted.

“Have you been drinking?” she asked him suspiciously.

His grin widened. “How’d you guess?”

Maybe because you’re here in the first place.

She didn’t give voice to that thought, however, for fear it would make him leave.

“I saw him,” he said absently.

She scrunched up her freezing toes. “Who?”

“Manny, your security guard. He let me into the courtyard.”

Diane’s jaw dropped. “Why would he do that? It’s, like, the opposite of his job.”

Sam gave a soft chuckle. “He knows me, Diane. He’s seen me at events before, remember?”

Thinking back on it, she supposed his face would be familiar to Manny. Still, she couldn’t believe he would just let Sam pass without at least asking her about it.

“I told him we were secretly hooking up.” When she gasped at Sam’s blunt words, he gave her a carefree shrug. “Don’t worry. I asked him not to tell anyone.”

“Well, I suppose I should feel better about it, then,” she responded acidly.

He took a step closer, his voice turning soft and silky. “Are you mad?”

She had been, but somehow, miraculously, all it took was a few words from him to practically make her forget what she had been thinking about.

A frigid gust of wind slapped her in the face and she hugged her arms tightly around herself. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you think?”

Then he was closing the distance between them, warming her with his proximity. His hands slid out of his pockets and he pulled her in tight, his eyes flashing with heat as he stared down at her.

“I missed you,” he murmured, his whiskey-scented breath kissing her cheek. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

Even though logic told her he was only saying those words because he wanted to get under her robe, her heart still lifted with something that felt suspiciously like hope.

Which was stupid, when she thought about it, because this was nothing more than a fling.

Taking a shaky breath, she tried to infuse lightness into her voice. “You have my pictures to keep you company.”

He let out a hearty groan. “They’ve been fucking torture. I can’t stop staring at them.”

Her mouth twisted into a grin. “Good.”

Laughing, he swept his head down toward hers. His lips landed on hers, cold as ice. She gasped at the contact, and then his tongue swooped inside her mouth, bringing with it a tidal wave of heat and desire.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, lifting to her toes as the kiss deepened, blossoming into a full-blown make out session.

Sam’s arms closed over her waist and he lifted her, taking a few steps until her back hit the wall. He covered her front, shielding her from the worst of the cold as he continued to kiss her like the world was about to end. His body was like a wall of steel…if steel could make her burn with desire, that was.

But when he undid the belt of her robe and slid it open, reality slapped her in the face, along with the cold blast of air that tightened her nipples and broke goosebumps out over her flesh.

“What are you doing?” she gasped.

He pulled back to rake her with an amused glance. “I thought that was obvious.”