The Unblocked Collection (31 page)

“Brea,” Reed said, “I’m going to steal her for just a minute.”

“No, he’s not—”

He cut me off. “Walk with me, Frankie.” His lips were practically pressing against my ear. I felt nothing; no warmth, no tingling between my legs. “I won’t keep you long.”

“Two minutes, Reed. Not a second more.” I pulled myself out of his grip and stood from the chair. “If I’m not back by the time you finish that,” I said to Brea, pointing to what was left in her glass, “come find me.”

“You know it.” She raised her glass and took a drink, glaring at Reed as she swigged.

I held my wine as I led Reed to a back corner that was quieter than where Brea and I had been sitting, but close enough for her to see me. I couldn’t imagine what he wanted to discuss. Our business matters had been handled; the last status report I’d read that morning showed that all pending contracts were being processed. And by the way he had treated me at the gala—comparing me to Julia, allowing her to degrade me without stepping in to defend me at all—I couldn’t imagine he would have anything to say that was worth hearing.

I reached the corner and turned to face him. “What is it, Reed?”

“Frankie…” There was that look again—the look he had given me at the party right before I had left him and his too-late apology. The look that was full of sorrow…the look that did nothing but make me even angrier.

“It’s been a long day and I really just want to enjoy my night with Brea, so say whatever it is you have to say.” I didn’t just want to enjoy my night; I wanted to forget so many things. Derek, and Reed, and the woman…and the scene I had walked in on in Reed’s bedroom.

The blood.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“You’re sorry?” My eyes traced the deep lines in his forehead, the creases that surrounded his mouth as he frowned. He wasn’t one to share his feelings. Maybe that had been part of our problem. Our issues had been shoved so far aside in favor of our jobs, we’d never let them surface long enough to discuss what was ruining our relationship until it was too late. Then there was nothing left to discuss. “Are you apologizing for the way you acted in front of Julia?” I didn’t give him a chance to answer. “The least you could have done was have my back and put her in her place. But you didn’t; you did nothing—no, worse than that, you gave her fuel to go further. I always knew you were selfish…but when did you become heartless?”

His hands ran through his hair and crossed over his chest. I could tell my words caused him pain. It was exactly what I wanted: to stir a reaction, to get him to feel something about how he’d treated me—regret, shame. Anything.

“I’m sorry for that, too,” he said. He took a breath, his hands dropping to his sides. “Jesus, Frankie, I fucked up. All I’ve done is fuck up. What I said to you when I walked in on you and that developer was wrong.” His eyes moved to my mouth. “I was jealous. I don’t like the idea of you being with anyone but me. Seeing it was even worse than thinking about it.”

“That’s ironic, don’t you think, considering what you were doing when I walked in on you…and
her
?” I wanted this day to be over, the memories of it to be erased as fast as the wine would allow.

He moved closer, resting against the wall. “She meant nothing to me.”

“I don’t care.”

“It was a one night stand. I barely knew her name. I…”

I put my hand in his face. It was the only way to make him stop. “I don’t care—about the details
or
your apology. I don’t want to hear either.”

“Then maybe you’ll want to hear this instead: I miss you.”

“Oh God.” When I took a step back, his hand cuffed my wrist. “Reed, I can’t do this.”

“Let’s go back to my place.”

“No—”

“Your place, then. Somewhere not quite so loud or crowded, where we can have a conversation and not get interrupted.” His free hand touched my cheek, his fingers brushing into my hair.

For just a second, I closed my eyes and breathed in his skin. I knew his touch, his voice; I knew he’d kiss me in the elevator as we rode up to my condo, take me by the hand and lead me to my bedroom. He’d strip off my clothes in front of the nightstand, hover above me as I lay on the mattress, and he’d fuck me until he shuddered. But there would be no passion, no lust, no longing so deep that my body would quiver for just the feel of his breath.

Reed wasn’t who I wanted.

Even if I’d never been with Derek, never learned the depths of pleasure my body could reach, I still wouldn’t have let Reed back in. He wasn’t just part of my past; he was the greatest cause of my pain.

“I have to go.”

“Frankie—”

I pulled my wrist out of his grip. “I can’t breathe, I have to go…” I rushed away, and I stopped only when I reached Brea. I lifted my purse off the table, looping the strap over my shoulder. “This was a bad idea.”

She set her phone down. “Coming here, or talking to him?” She was slurring her words even more, and so was I.

“Coming here, going out…all of it. I should be home, eating more chocolate, sipping a glass of wine in my bathtub, not reopening wounds with Reed that neither of us can heal.”

Even through her stupor, she looked concerned. “Time to go, hon.”

I found my wallet inside my purse and dropped several bills on the table. It was more than enough to cover all the drinks. “Yes. It’s definitely time.”

She drank down the last of her wine. “Want me to come over?”

The waitress had delivered the shots of tequila while I’d been with Reed. I swallowed mine in one gulp, my mouth watering from the burn. “Thank you,” I finally answered, “but I wouldn’t make for good company. I need to be alone. We can share a cab, though, I’ll drop you off on my way.”

“No worries, it’s only a few blocks. I’ll walk.”

She slung her bag over her shoulder, and I grabbed her hand as she stood. “You know I’m not going to let you walk.”

Her eyes left mine. “Reed’s coming back.”

“Oh yeah…we’re going.”

I guided us through the crowd holding her hand, making our way quickly to the front of the bar. A cab was just pulling up outside, and a couple was getting out of the backseat. Brea and I slid in after them.

“Four blocks east, please, stop when you hit Boylston Street,” Brea said to the driver.

“Sure thing,” he said.

She relaxed into the seat, propping her purse onto her lap. “God, I’m way drunker than I thought.”

I had realized the same thing as we were rushing through the bar. “Tell me we don’t have an early meeting in the morning?”

“We don’t…at least not anymore.” She looked at me and grinned. “I had a feeling we were going to have more than a few glasses, so I postponed it until the afternoon.”

“You’re good.”

She winked. “I know.”

The cab driver pulled up to Boylston, putting on his blinker while he idled at the curb. She reached across to hug me. “You sure you want to be alone?”

“I’m sure. I’m just going to eat some more chocolate and go to bed.”

I squeezed her for a second longer, then as I watched her walk into her building, I gave the driver my address. Once the taxi began moving again, I tucked myself into the corner of the backseat. I felt the weight of my phone inside my purse. If I took it out, I didn’t know if I had the willpower to stop myself from texting Derek.

Anna had told me that survivors like her and I take risks. Derek was more than a risk. Ending things between us had made the most sense; I knew I couldn’t keep things casual, I couldn’t stop myself from getting attached, from falling in love. Seeing text messages from other women would destroy me. Knowing he’d been with others behind my back would make me hate him. And once I experienced that level of hurt again, I wouldn’t want to work with him, and I would lose his contract.

Things may have been much harder this way, but they were also much safer.

“Fifteen dollars and forty-five cents,” the driver said as he came to a stop in front of my building.

I handed him a twenty. “Keep it all. Thank you.”

My doorman helped me out of the backseat. “You have a visitor waiting for you inside, Ms. Jordan.”

“A visitor?”

Was it possible that Reed had gotten into a cab after us and had beaten me here?

He held out his arm, signaling me to walk in front of him. “I tried calling your cell and left you messages.”

“Sorry about that,” I said, holding the banister as I walked up the few stairs. I knew the heels were pinching my toes, but I could barely feel them. I could barely feel anything.

When he opened the lobby door, I immediately saw the visitor. He stood not far from the bank of elevators, his electric blue stare gazing back. Shivers exploded through my body as my eyes wandered over him. That beard, the one that made my folds pucker, and the mouth that made me scream, and the flannel that shackled my wrists to submission.

“Derek,” I breathed, pausing in the middle of the lobby. Even this far away, it felt as if his lips were on me, his hands on my breasts, my body wrapped within his. “What the hell are you doing here?”

DEREK

I SAW THE SHOCK
in her eyes at finding me standing in her lobby. She was right to be surprised; I never waited for anyone, especially a woman I had slept with. But this was the only way I could talk to her. She hadn’t returned my calls, hadn’t responded to my text. And Will had made just as much progress with Brea.

If Frankie was going to hide, then I was going to fucking find her.

“You’ve been drinking,” I said. She was walking toward the elevator, toward me, toward the tongue I wanted to plunge inside her. I could tell by the looseness in her body she’d had wine…the only other thing that could have made her that loose was my cock.

“I’ve had a few drinks,” she replied.

“Is that why you’ve been missing since nine this morning? Because you’ve been drinking?”

“No.”

“We need to talk. Now.”

She glanced all around us. We were alone except for the doorman, and he was too far away to hear us. “We can talk here.”

“Let’s go to your condo.”

She shook her head, holding herself up against the frame of the elevator. “No way.”

I took a step closer so she could feel my breath, my need, the power in what I was telling her. “Once I say what I need to, I’ll leave. I promise.”

“Then you can say whatever you need to in this lobby. It’s not like you’ve had a problem doing anything in public before.”

That spicy goddamn mouth. She was fighting me, and although I would never tell her this, I fucking loved it. “I fingered your pussy in public…you’re right about that.” Goose bumps rose over her skin as my breath traveled down her neck. “But what I have to tell you isn’t going to be said in this lobby.”

Her eyes closed, her breathing sped up. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip. When her lids finally opened, she said, “Five minutes.” She hit the button for the elevator. “That’s all you get.”

I followed her into the elevator, doing everything I could not to wrap my hands around her waist and devour her neck with my teeth. After seeing how my breath had affected her, I was certain I’d be touching her again. She was struggling with her feelings and trying to act strong. But if my hands went inside her panties, I knew her clit would be dripping with wetness and that warm, snug hole would be soaked.

She held onto the railing that wrapped around the middle of the elevator and stared at the numbers that lit up over the door. I was sure she did that to keep from looking at me. With each floor, I could see her mind spinning with questions; I could practically hear her pussy squealing with the need to be touched. She wanted, and she feared. She desired…and she regretted.

I knew, because I did, too.

We arrived at the penthouse, and she went straight to her kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine. She didn’t bother to look in my direction. “I’d offer you one, but you won’t be here long enough to drink it, so…”

That fiery fucking mouth was at it again. I wanted those lips pouted around my cock, humming from all the cum I was shooting down her throat. And I would get that, but first I needed to make things right.

I moved to the other side of the island. “It’s been almost twelve hours since you were supposed to be at my townhouse. You have your voice and all your fingers, so why the hell didn’t you reply to my calls or my text?”

She drank deeply. “I took a break from my phone today.”

I tried to calm all the urges that were building within. I wasn’t simply angry that she had blown me off; I was worried about her, too. “No breaks, Frankie. Not ever.”

“I can do whatever the hell—”

“Let me finish.” My sweet pink ivory was usually so submissive. She had never shown this much dominance. It made me want to smile, but I didn’t want to give her that reaction. “When I call you, I don’t care what time it is, I expect you to call me back. Text me back. Have Brea get in touch with me, if you need to. But I insist on an answer when I call. You’re my realtor, Frankie, someone I trusted with my entire building—all one hundred and eighty-one units. It’s my business, my livelihood, and my reputation on the line when you leave me hanging.” Her face began to soften as the realization hit her. “We have a contract—a contract that every realtor in Boston wants right now—and it comes with clauses that allow me to terminate if I feel the agreement isn’t being adhered to. Telling me you don’t want to fuck me any more isn’t a reason to do that, obviously, but ignoring me during business hours is.”