Dangerous Stranger (Beautiful Entourage #4) (11 page)

“Your pharmaceutical inventions must be really lucrative.”

I had a really vague explanation of what my job was, and it was so complex no one really understood it. All that it really said was I was loaded. “I don’t have any complaints.”

“Can I have a tour?”

“Sure.” Thankfully my maid just cleaned the place. I showed her the different bedrooms and bathrooms, and then I showed her my bedroom last. As soon as we were inside I felt

a shiver move down my spine. I jerked off thinking about her on that bed too many times to count.

“How do you ever leave this place?”

“Only when really good company is involved.” I gave her a smile then headed back to the kitchen.

She stopped on the way and looked at the pictures on the coffee table. “Who are these guys in the Mets jerseys?”

“My friends,” I said. “I’ve known them forever.”

“Wow…you guys are all…really good-looking.”

“We both know I make the rest of them look like shit.”

She chuckled. “You’re right.” She came into the kitchen and watched me open everything. “Can I help?”

“Yeah, cook this,” I said. “I have no idea how.”

She laughed. “How about I help you instead?”

“That’s a fair compromise.”

Together, we cooked. She took care of the potatoes and the veggies, and I cooked the meat. The savory smell of the food filled the kitchen, and my appetite increased by tenfold.

“Geez, I’m starving.”

“Good thing the meat is done.” I turned off the stove then walked into the dining room to set the table. She left her purse on the counter, and just when I was about to move it, her phone vibrated. I could see the screen clearly and Cameron was calling her. A moment of uncertainty passed through me. I wanted to delete the call so she wouldn’t know she even got it but I thought that would violate her privacy. Instead, I shoved her purse into the closet so she wouldn’t hear it vibrate if he called again. It was still wrong, but at least it was less wrong.

We sat down together and began to eat.

She ate quicker than I did, clearly famished after our intense workout.

“Want to know something interesting?” I asked.

“What?”

“Couples who work out together are more likely to stay together.”

“Then it looks like we’ll be friends for a long time.” She kept eating.

I didn’t like that she called me her friend but what else was she supposed to call me?

“Can I ask you something personal?

“You can ask me anything, sweetheart.”

She sipped her water then looked down at her plate. “Have you ever been with a woman?”

I wasn’t expecting that question. If I answered it honestly, I would have to say I’d been with over a hundred women. But that wouldn’t make any sense. “No.”

“No?” she asked. “Never?”

Why was she so interested
? “I guess I haven’t experimented much.”

“Then how do you know you’re gay?”

“How do you know you’re straight?” I countered. “Have you ever been with a woman?” Just the idea got me excited.

“I see your point.” She continued to eat.

“How many guys have you been with?” I assumed it was okay to ask since she’d asked me something personal.

She shrugged. “One.”

“One?” I almost spit out my food. How was that possible? She was the most desirable woman on the planet.

“Yeah.” She stopped eating and started to pick at her food.

“That’s just…low.”

“Yeah…Cameron is the only guy I’ve been with.”

Now her behavior made a little more sense. “That’s why you’re trying to make it work with him.”

Her eyes moved to mine. “It’s not because I want my number to always be one. I’ve never cared about that. But…he was my first for a reason. If we have a chance to capture what we had we should try.”

“In my experience, when the magic dies it’s for a reason.”

“I guess…”

“Do you love him?” I blurted.

She suddenly became uncomfortable. “What?”

“Do you love him?” I repeated.

Ophelia was clearly flustered. “Love is…difficult to explain.”

“It’s okay if you don’t,” I said. “I can tell you don’t anyway.” And I’m relieved.

“Well, I did at one point. But now…it’s not there. We can get it back if we tried but—”

“Why are you forcing it?”

“I’m not forcing it—”

“There are so many other guys out there,” I argued. “You could have whoever you wanted—literally.”

She sipped her water again but I knew it wasn’t because she was thirsty.

“Cut him loose and look for someone better.”

“I…I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

I sighed in irritation. Just when I got some progress with her, we retracted our steps. “I don’t mean to come off too forward. I just really care about you and I want the best for you.”

“I know, Jett.”

“And…he was a total douche at dinner. He doesn’t even have a personality. When I cornered him in the hallway, he backed off like a total sissy. That’s the man you want?”

“I can’t say I blame him for being intimidated by you. Look at you.”

I leaned over the table and came closer to her. “The man you’re with should intimidate anyone who crosses you. He should be strong, powerful, and protective.” I’m all of those things. “If you were mine, I’d break any guy’s neck just for looking at you. I’d make you feel like the sexiest woman in the world—all the time. And I’d make you come until you grew so sore you asked me to stop.”

She dropped her fork and stared at me with wide eyes.

Okay…I probably took it too far.

Ophelia stared at me like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words.

I tried to shrug it off. “You know…hypothetically.” She might realize I’m not just joking around. She might realize I wanted to fuck her on my sheets, right now, if she would have me.

“Cameron said something the other night…”

Oh shit. I knew where this was going.

“He thinks you aren’t gay at all…but you’re straight.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How did I handle this?

She stared at me like she expected an answer. “You just don’t seem gay,” she said. “You’re so…aggressive and flirty and…I don’t know.”

“Well, I am. Just because I don’t fit the stereotype doesn’t mean I don’t fit under the label.”

That seemed to convince her. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s okay,” I said immediately.

She picked at her food.

“Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I don’t know how to treat a lady. And it doesn’t mean I don’t know just how beautiful, amazing, and valuable you are. Maybe you forget sometimes but I never do.”

***

We watched TV on my couch, and I sat directly beside her.

“These leather couches are nice,” she said.

I reclined them back with a click of a button.

“Whoa…snazzy.”

We lay almost flat while we watched the screen. I had the urge to pull her into my arms and hold her. How would she feel lying next to me? I’d already felt her chest once against mine. But I wanted to feel more.

“I could sleep here.” She rested one arm over the back of the couch. It deepened the curve of her back and I had to control myself from not devouring her. I wanted to press her into the leather as I thrust inside.

Damn, I’d never been this attracted to another person before.

“You know what would feel more comfortable?” I pulled her into my side and let her rest her head on my hard stomach.

“Concrete?” she asked with a laugh.

My ego increased at her words.

She looked up and smiled. “It’s getting late. I should probably go.”

I didn’t want her to leave. I wasn’t sure what I thought might happen, but I thought if we spent enough time together she would want to be with me. It was stupid and crazy but a guy could dream, right? “Yeah, probably.”

She sat up then gracefully moved her fingers through her hair. Everything she did was sexy without even trying. I found myself staring at her more than I should. Sometimes it was out of my control.

She stood up then searched for her purse. “Hmm…I thought I put it here.”

“Oh, sorry. I moved it for dinner.” I opened the closet then lifted it from the hook. “There you go. I wasn’t trying to rob you.”

She chuckled. “If you can afford a place like this you don’t need to rob anyone.” Then she opened her purse and started to look through it.

I didn’t want her to notice her phone, not until she was home and less likely to go out again. “Let me walk you home.”

She stopped looking at her phone and turned to me. “It’s okay, Jett. I can manage.”

“I insist.” I opened the front door and stepped out. “Max would never forgive me if I let something terrible happen to his little sister.”

She stopped protesting. “Well, it’ll be nice to have some company.”

“There’s the spirit.”

She and I walked together down the sidewalk then toward her apartment a few blocks from my home. I wanted to walk her home anyway. The idea of her being out by herself at night made me uncomfortable. It was clear she could take care of herself but that didn’t give me any assurances.

We reached her apartment and she snaked her keys out of her purse. “Thanks for walking me.”

“Of course. Do you mind if I come in and say hello to Max?” I didn’t care about seeing him. I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible.

“Sure.” She got the door unlocked then placed her things on the entry table. “Max, your betrothed is here.”

Max came out of his bedroom then embraced me like always, with little affection and no genuine interest. “It’s always nice to see you.”

“Yeah. Your sister and I were hanging out so I thought I’d walk her home.”

“Thanks,” he said. “She usually gets lost.”

Ophelia sighed then rolled her eyes.

I leaned toward Max’s ear. “The bra…” That was my cue to do what we already talked about.

He sighed like he thought this idea was stupid. “Fine. But you’re crazy.” He pulled away then headed to the laundry room.

“Are you spending the night?” she asked.

“No. I’ve got a lot of things to do in the morning.”

She nodded. “Well, I’m going to hit the sack. I’ll see you later.”

“Good night, sweetheart.” I used to use the name on any girl I hit on. But now when I used it on Ophelia, it had a very different meaning.

Max came out of the laundry room holding a bright orange push-up bra. “Hey, Ophelia. Is this yours?”

She tilted her head to the side and examined. “Uh…no.”

“Are you sure?” he said as he continued to hold it. “Because it’s obviously not mine.”

I watched Ophelia’s face carefully.

“Believe me, I would know if I had a slutty bra like that,” she said.

“Why is it slutty?” Max asked.

“It’s so bright there’s nothing you could wear over it,” she argued. “Only a slut would have something like that.”

So, it definitely wasn’t hers.

“I don’t know where that came from but it’s not mine.” She walked into her bedroom and shut the door.

When she was gone, Max tossed the bra at me. “So, what does this mean?”

“It belongs to some other bimbo.” I shoved it into my pocket and felt gross for touching it. “Which means Cameron is cheating on her. Or at least he was.”

Max crossed his arms over his chest. “That doesn’t necessarily prove that…”

“What else would explain it?” I snapped. “This guy’s apartment is sterile. He wouldn’t leave some slut’s bra on the floor forever. It’s got to be someone recent—really recent.”

“You were in his apartment?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I wasn’t. My friends were.”

“Oh…that’s much better.”

“For being her brother, you don’t seem that concerned about her boyfriend being a cheater,” I snapped.

“Because you aren’t giving me enough evidence to prove it,” he snapped back. “If you did, like a picture or a text conversation I’d be the first one at his door to knock his teeth in. Until then, I’m not jumping to any conclusions.”

“Well, I’ll get you the proof you need.”

He shook his head slightly. “You’re obsessed.”

“Yeah, I know.” I turned to the door to walk out.

“Hold on,” he said as he followed me.

“What?” I hissed.

“The benefit is this weekend. Can you come as my date?”

“I’m like your genie. I’ll do anything you ask.”

“My parents haven’t actually invited me but I’m going anyway. The quicker you charm them and get them to accept me, the sooner you can tell Ophelia that you’re psychotically in love with her.”