Does she drink those? Hell, if I know but something about her personality tells me she isn’t chugging her caffeine black like me.
When I’m taking a taxi back to my penthouse long after I should already be in bed, I expect her to be waving down the same one on the curb. Shouldering me out of the way to steal my ride and paying the driver in cash.
And when I pass Bryant Park accidentally, my eyes always search for her dark brown hair and curvy frame in the crowd.
It’s infuriating, maddening, and I know I don’t have the power to change it because Rhiannon has always been clear: She wants nothing more to do with me. And I was okay with that before. What would I do with a woman like her anyway?
So why can’t I get her out of my head?
“There wasn’t a case in the first place, so it took very little effort for me to lose it,” I respond cooly to Rosie.
The only reason I took it was because my sister begged me to for her supposed ‘best friend.’ And I’ve never been able to say no to my sister.
She laughs and leans against the wall casually, folding her arms across her chest and studying me.
“You don’t have to look so angry about it. I’m not upset. I’m actually relieved. She can be a bit much, and the person that you sued did make some good points.”
I stop before jamming my finger into the elevator button and turn to look at her, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you two were best friends?”
She shrugs. “Meh. We’re acquaintances because we run in the same circle, but I would never consider her a friend. I’ve always sort of known that she’s only kept me close because of you.”
No, fucking, shit.
“Well, you could have told me she had a crush on me. She said she only filed the case because she wanted alone time with me.”
She snorts. “She’s ridiculous but so are you. You’re so oblivious to the effect that you have on women. At least now I’ll know if I ever need her help with something, she’ll owe me one.”
She swiftly turns on her heel and I consider whether screaming, meditation, or taking the rest of the day off work would make me feel better. I just lost my winning streak in court forno fucking reason.
And now I have a beautiful, infuriating, completely distant and unattached woman invading my thoughts and controlling my destiny because she’s still in possession of my lucky boxers and apparently, my brain and my balls.
I slam my thumb into the elevator call button much too hard, feeling a jolt of pain shoot through my joint and a tiny zap.
I hear Rosie’s voice again, cutting through my angry internal monologue where I remind myself that I’m an accomplished lawyer who has never let anything or anyone get in my way in the past. I’m not starting now.
“Oh, wait, Cain. Did you get to meet the person behind that other social media account? TheLiving in a World of Fifty Shades of Grey, person?”
Did I meet her? Hell yeah, I met her. Months ago. Every inch of her buttery smooth, soft skin. Felt her pussy riding my cock months ago, and then again, a few weeks ago when I bent her over my hotel bed in Hartford and fucked her breathless.
And I haven’t been the same since.
Now, she’s all I see in my dreams, haunting me like some damn siren that I can’t escape. She’d wanted this to be a one-time turned two-time thing and not to exchange personal information, I’d obliged. I didn’t have any interest or the time for anything more either. But I didn’t ask for her to turn up at the courthouse wearing lingerie while she chattered on about how she works as a fuckingsex therapistfor fifteen minutes giving me a damn hard-on in my suit.
“Yes. She was there.”
“Oh!” Rosie claps her hand like a kid, her dark blonde hair bouncing, smile wide. “What was she like?”
Magnetic.
Vexatious.
Lascivious.
A total mind-fuck of a woman like I’ve never known before.
“Exactly what you’d expect,” I respond, my tone clipped as the elevator doors slide open and I step inside.
“Well, if you ever run into her again, you should tell her your sister’s a big fan of her page!” She yells through the practically shut doors.
