Toxic (29 page)

No Ring

I wasn’t sure what to do about Dawson, so I didn’t do anything.

Days flew by and I hadn’t sent the prospectus to him, nor had I called him—and I also had not told Jeremy about what had happened between us.

It was Wednesday night and Jeremy and I were meeting Jamie and Lindsay for dinner. We would be discussing their wedding celebration, which was planned to take place at Sinners at the New Year’s Eve opening of the club. The problem was, the week had gone by and I hadn’t heard from any of the potential investors yet, so there was a chance there would be no club.

A knock at the door pulled me from my dire thoughts.

Hunter was standing just inside my door. “I’m headed home. I just wanted to remind you I’ll be out until Tuesday. I’m sorry I won’t be here, but call me the minute you hear from the investors.”

“I will. Take care of your father.”

He nodded. “Going into the home has been a long time coming.”

“Logan’s still going with you, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he and my father are very close. This is killing him.”

I pressed my lips together as sadness swept through me for Hunter and for my friend. “Tell him I’m thinking about him.”

“I will. Oh and I had the Vegas and LA apartments emptied. The hotel managers told me there were no personal items in either of them.”

“And the Times Square one?”

“Just as you instructed. I haven’t touched it.”

I gave him a solemn nod. “I’d like to talk to my mother about it but I think it’s best if we just have everything of a personal nature stored here.”

“I’ll take care of it on Tuesday. And one last thing I thought you should know. Hanna Truman called this afternoon and wants to buy the condo.”

I stared at him. “Buy it?”

“That’s what she said. The problem is, on paper she already owns it. What do you want me to do?”

I had no idea but I knew my mother’s good intentions happened for a reason and I didn’t want to undo them. But I also knew TSC couldn’t keep paying for her mortgage, regardless of how small the monthly amount was. “Let’s just have her take over the payments.”

“It’s almost paid for anyway.”

“I know.”

He nodded and closed the door.

I leaned back in my chair. It was five and Jeremy and I would be meeting Jamie and Lindsay in an hour. I should probably tell Jeremy his mother called about the condo.

No time like the present.

I picked up my phone.

“Hey.” His tone was dark and brooding.

“Hi there.” Mine matched his.

“Did you miss me?”

I smiled. “Always, but there’s a reason for my call.”

“Okay shoot.”

I heard bells ringing. “Where are you?”

“Walking down Fifth.”

“Is that St. Patrick’s?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“What are you doing walking around uptown?”

“I had some things to take care of after my meeting with Theo at his house. The place is like a castle, by the way.”

“Theo, really?”

“Phoebeee.” He drew out my name.

“I used to play there when I was little; it has seven floors and is over fifteen thousand square feet.”

“Yeah, and it has twenty-two rooms,” Jeremy teased. “I got the tour. And before you ask, Avery was not home.”

“I wasn’t going to ask.” I took a deep breath. We were past all of that. “I wasn’t,” I reassured him.

“Okay good. Well, anyway, he wanted to meet with me to discuss membership for his men’s club.”

“I thought both he and his club already joined Jet Set?”

“He did and so did his friends at the Harvard Club, but now he’s interested in membership for at least five hundred of his friends from the University Club. He also wants me to meet him next week at the Soho House, which presents opportunities for Miami as well.”

“Wow, Jeremy, that’s great news.”

“Yeah, it is, but that’s not why you called. What’s up?”

“Well.” I was tongue-tied. I suddenly felt like I didn’t know what to say. Telling him his mother called here had awkward written all over it.

“You can say it.” His voice was seductive.

My stomach did a little flip. “Say what?”

“Tell me you want my tongue in your pussy before dinner.”

The dirty talker was back. He’d taken a leave all week, making love to me every morning and every night with an intensity that told me just how much he cared about me. But I liked this side too and I didn’t want to ruin it by bringing up his mother. Besides, I knew he must have given her the money, so what was there to talk about. I’d call her back Monday and make the arrangements and then talk to Jeremy.

“Jeremy,” I gasped.

“Tell me,” he groaned.

“We have early dinner plans,” I informed him in case he had forgotten.

“We have thirty minutes. Now tell me,” he demanded.

I loved this side of him as much as I loved the tender side.

“Say ‘I want your tongue in my clit.’”

Desire raced through me. “I want your tongue inside me,” I shyly admitted.

The door opened and there he stood, looking very smug and extremely hot in his herringbone jacket with contrast peaked lapels. His hair was more disheveled than normal, sticking up in the front as well as the back. His eyes gleamed with mischief as he removed his jacket. The display of the way his slacks rode low on his hips was a sight I wouldn’t have wanted to miss.

I drew my brows together as my pulse raced. “Jeremy.” I was shocked to see him there. Although I had to admit, I could get used to him being behind my door when desire ran hot.

He shrugged. “I just turned town Fifty-seventh when you called, so I was close.”

I looked down at what I was wearing and cursed the coming of winter for all the clothes it made me wear to keep warm. I had on a tight embroidered gabardine skirt with an equally tight turtleneck, and hose and ankle boots.

He strode toward me and my heart skipped a beat. His eyes were an intense blue as they stared at me. As soon as he reached me, his hands went to the zipper that ran the entire length of the back of my skirt.

With skilled hands, he had it off me, and my hose and panties were pulled down in mere seconds. He didn’t bother to take them off, he just let them pool on top of my boots.

Without a word, he eased me back only slightly so that my behind was barely resting against my desk.

My desk—the things it had seen since Jeremy came back into my life.

Then he dropped to his knees before me. Spreading my legs as far as he could with the resistance of the hose, he wrapped his hands around me and drew me to him.

I went more than willingly.

He held me in place while his tongue flicked my clit.

Lightly at first.

One.

Two.

Three times.

I bit my lip to stop from moaning. The door was closed but it wasn’t a Friday, and I didn’t know who was still in the office.

With his hands cupping my behind, he pulled me even closer and when the flicks turned into licks, my core felt like it was on fire.

Oh God, I bit down on my lip even harder.

His finger trailed to that spot he’d darkly promised someday to enter and he caressed it, actually penetrating slightly for the first time.

I cried out, I couldn’t help it. “Oh, God. It feels so good.”

Spurring him on, his licks turned into sucks and then all at once his tongue was stroking, his lips caressing, and his breath tantalizing. My hand tightened around his neck and I pulled him even closer to me. His hot mouth kept up the slow, torturous assault on my pussy.

“Please, Jeremy, please,” I whimpered.

He must have decided to take pity on me because he inserted a finger with just the right amount of pressure and in a matter of seconds, my thigh muscles clenched and I came in one hard rush.

Everything inside me turned languid as I felt like I might lose my ability to stand. Jeremy didn’t stop until my thighs started to shake. When he stood up and I saw the tent in his pants, I wanted him all the more.

I was greedy. I’d come with his tongue in me and I also wanted to come with his cock inside me. Once I started to recover, I looked at him and told him, “I want your cock inside me.”

He shook his head. “Later. We have to go.”

I pointed to his pants. “You can’t go like that.”

His voice was hoarse. “I’ll be fine.”

“Jeremy,” I said.

“I came here to take care of you. I don’t want you to think that means we have to fuck.”

It dawned on me then. It should have dawned on me earlier. Jeremy was trying so hard to be good. To show me we were more than just about the fucking. And I knew we were. But right now, I wanted us to be about the fucking. I turned around and bent myself over the desk. “I like the bad boy side of you just as much as the good man side. Now I want that bad boy side to fuck me—hard.”

I didn’t turn around because my cheeks were flaming. I couldn’t believe I’d just said that. I really had read way too many romance novels.

But it worked.

He didn’t hesitate.

I heard the telltale sound of his zipper and then his hand clutched my hip while the other guided his cock where I was dying for it to be, I was certain.

But I was wrong.

He teased his cock around that sensitive area he had been caressing during many of our sex sessions.

I gasped as the sensation flooded me but then he stopped and lowered his hand. He placed the crown of his cock against my entrance and then he pounded into me.

Hard.

Just like I asked.

I gripped the edge of the desk for support as he did it again.

And again.

Both of his hands were on my hips anchoring me by then, but I didn’t need the support, with his fingertips pressing all the way into my hipbones and holding me in place.

I couldn’t believe it but in a matter of a couple of more thrusts, I was soaring to orgasm.

I cried out to God, said his name like a prayer, and I think I might have even cursed.

“Fuckkk,” he groaned and then I heard him shout and call out my name as he came buried deep inside me. Soon after, he collapsed his clothed body on top of mine and I fell to the desk, breathless and sated.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Did I hurt you?”

I pushed myself up and turned to face him. “No. No. I loved it.”

He put his hands on my face and caressed my cheeks with this thumbs. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I love it when you make love to me, but I also love when you show me just how much you want me.”

“But you said—”

I put my finger on his lips. “Never mind what I said. What we have now is a healthy mix of lust and love and I want it to stay like this forever.”

He stared at me for the longest time, as if he was in a trance.

“Jeremy,” I said softly.

He shook himself out of wherever he’d gone and looked around. Then he walked into my bathroom and came out with a towel and cleaned me up first and then himself.

Once we’d righted our disheveled clothes and he’d put his jacket back on, he dropped to his knee.

“Jeremy, we have to go,” I said, torn between the fact that he wanted to give me another orgasm and the dinner plans we had made.

But he had a completely different plan. He reached into the inside jacket pocket and took out a Tiffany’s box. “Phoebe St. Claire, I love you like I’ve never loved anyone in my life and I don’t want to wait any longer for you to be my wife.”

My knees buckled beneath my feet as the earth shifted. I wasn’t expecting his proposal—at all. But the electricity that traveled between us was undeniable.

Images of our life together flashed before me. Marriage, kids, a white picket fence, two rockers on the front porch where an older couple sat. It was our future and I could see it plain as day.

We were meant to be.

“Yes, yes, yes! I want to be your wife more than anything in this world.”

He opened the box.

It was empty.

He stood up and took what I guessed was an imaginary ring from inside it and placed it on my finger. “Tomorrow at eight a.m., Tiffany’s is all yours.”

Tears filled my eyes. “Breakfast at Tiffany’s.”

He nodded. “I want you to pick any ring you want while you eat a croissant and drink coffee.” His voice was hoarse.

“How did you arrange something like that?”

He shrugged. “I had some help.”

“Jamie?”

He nodded.

Jamie and his connections. Years ago Jamie’s mother’s family owned the property Charles Tiffany bought to build his flagship store and somehow Jamie’s family has been able to maintain that relationship through the years.

I threw my arms around the man who would soon officially become my fiancé. “I love you.”

He squeezed me so tight. “I hope forever.”

I pulled away. “Yes, forever.” I kissed him exuberantly.

Again he held on to me like I was going somewhere.

“I have to call my mother.”

He walked around my desk and took my coat from the hook. “I have something to tell you about that first.”

I gave him a questioning stare.

He held out my coat. “I’ll tell you on the way down.”

“Okay,” I said.

We walked down the hallway and hit the elevator and he didn’t say a word. I was starting to worry.

When we walked outside, he hailed a taxi. “Perry Street restaurant,” he told the driver.

As the cab jerked into traffic, Jeremy turned toward me.

Finally.

“On Monday, your mother and I went to see your father.”

My voice caught in my throat.

“I went to ask your mother for her approval to marry you, but while I was talking to her, I felt I should meet your father and ask him.”

“You went to visit him in jail? With my mother?”

He nodded.

“She’d never been, you know.”

He nodded again.

I started to cry.

“Please don’t be upset,” he said.

“I’m not. I’m touched. I can’t believe you did that for me.”

He pulled me into his arms. “I’d do anything for you.”

I looked up. “Your mother called today.”

He didn’t look surprised. “I figured she would. I called her.”