Bossy (12 page)

Read Bossy Online

Authors: Kim Linwood

“Oh my God! Michael, are you alright? What’s going on?” Marie rushes down the steps from the deck.

Ignoring them all, I scan the crowd for Claire. When I find her, our eyes meet just long enough for me to see her hide a satisfied smile, then turn and walk away with determined steps. Shit.

A single stroke, and I’m at the edge, bracing my hands against it to lift myself out, water streaming off me. I can feel it running down the inside of my clothes and sloshing in my shoes. A few feet to my side, several hands are pulling Michael up while he’s still coughing and sputtering, but I have to drag myself out.

I stand, trying to ignore how my shoes squelch when Marie approaches. She doesn’t look any happier than Claire did. “I have no idea what the hell is going on here, but given the circumstances, I suggest
very
strongly that you remove yourself from our property.” Putting her fists in at her sides, she glares at me, waiting for me to move.

There’s a time for charm, and this sure as shit ain’t it.

Fine, whatever. My only reason for being here just stormed off anyway. I do feel a little bad, but it’s not like I threw the first punch or anything. Still, I doubt Marie’s interested in my excuses. “Yes, ma’am.”

I peel off my suit jacket and roll up my sleeves. Throwing the jacket over my shoulder, I walk out like I don’t give a fuck. The rain is picking up, but it doesn’t matter anymore.

“That’s right, motherfucker. And don’t you dare come back!” Michael yells after me. I give him the finger over my shoulder without looking, then go to find my car. Claire can’t have gotten far if Michael was her ride, busses are few and far between this time of night, and even a cab could take a while.

Popping the door on my Mustang, I hesitate. My car is my baby and it pains me to think of what I’m doing to my seats when I sit down. This fucked up decision of mine to screw up Claire’s date has gone from bad to worse, but after that kiss? The only thing I’d change was where I was standing when that jackass decided to go all Wrestlemania on me.

Pulling out of their driveway, it doesn’t take long before I catch sight of my target. If she’s still pissed, I’m not sure she’s going to want to see me, but one way or another she’s getting in this car and we’re going to start figuring this shit out.

Claire

T
estosterone turns the males of the human species into idiots. It’s true, I just witnessed it.

It was like watching gorillas beating their chests at each other, except I’ll give the gorillas a break because I think gorilla ladies are into that sort of thing. Me? Not so much.

The only bright spot of the whole evening was seeing the looks on their faces as they tipped right over into the pool. It’d be hilarious if it wasn’t so sad.

Ruining my night was bad enough, but between the two of them, they managed to ruin something that was important to Michael’s parents. Marie won’t want to speak with me ever again, and it bothers me that someone I respect probably thinks I’m nothing but trouble now.

Matching my mood, the skies open up.

I stop and look up, closing my eyes and letting the rain beat down on my face. I’m beyond caring that I’m getting soaked. Thunder rumbles in the distance and I start moving again. It’s a hike to the bus stop, and these heels weren’t made for walking.

A black sports car pulls up next to me and matches its pace to mine. For a second I panic, before the window slides open quietly, revealing Declan with his wet hair slicked back. “Get in the car. You’re going to get soaked.”

Knowing who it is, I don’t slow down. If anything, I speed up. “I’m already soaked. Leave me alone. There are two people right now who I don’t even want to think about, much less talk to, and you’re one of them.” Look at, maybe. Men like him should come with a warning label.
Caution: Appearances can be deceiving.

“Oh come on. He started it,” Declan says with all of the maturity of a third grader. “Get in. You’ll be dry.” He shrugs when I give him a look and then raise my dripping arms. “Well, drier.”

“No.”

A car comes down the road, hanging behind him for a short moment before honking and passing with a roar. Water sprays Declan’s car and splashes over the sidewalk as it takes off, barely missing me. I guess that’s one reason to be glad that he’s here.

Declan tries again. “Claire. Come on, get in the car. I’ll take you home.”

“I’d rather walk home in the rain than get into the car with you right now. Obviously, you don’t get how pissed I am.” I speed up, but I can’t outrun his car.

“Fine.” He stops his car suddenly.

Finally, maybe I’ll be rid of him. I tell myself I’m not disappointed he gave up so quickly.

As soon as I’m past the tip of his hood, he throws his Mustang into reverse and then guns it right over the curb to stop with a screech straight across the sidewalk. He pops his door and steps out, slamming it shut behind him. With a click, the car whoops and the lights blink as the lock engages.

“If you’re going to be that stubborn, I’ll walk you home. I don’t want you walking alone.”

“Don’t you have an ambulance to go chase or something?” The rain intensifies, adding insult to injury. “I would’ve thought the pool was enough water for one night.”

He laughs. “A few drops more or less won’t make a fucking difference at this point.” Then he falls into step next to me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. For several minutes we walk in silence, getting poured on.

Sneaking glances at him through the corner of my eye, I can’t help notice how his soaked shirt clings to him. He’s like a superhero, every ridge and angle clearly outlined underneath. His dark hair’s plastered to his forehead and water runs in streams off his slightly crooked nose and his powerful jaw. I probably look like a drowned raccoon, while he looks like he just stepped out of an edgy cologne ad. Is there any time he’s not gorgeous?

I stumble, my heel catching in a crack. His hands are quick as lightning, steadying me almost before I’ve even realized I’m tripping. “Watch your step, babe.”

The heat from his touch burns against my cold, wet skin. I let myself enjoy it, but only for a second. “This is stupid. I’m going to catch a cab. Why don’t you just go back to your car before you get a ticket?”

He looks up and down the deserted street. “And what cab would that be?”

“I can call for one.”

“You could. Or you could just stop acting stupid and come back to my fucking car so I can drive you home.” He rolls his eyes.

“I’ll brave the rain.” Turning my back on him, I resume walking. Today sucks and I really don’t want to deal with it anymore. Or him.

He catches back up. “I’m not letting you walk home alone or risk some skeevy cab driver looking like that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Babe. White dress? Pouring rain? You might as well be topless.” He gives me a very appraising look. “I approve of going braless by the way. Good choice.”

“Oh my God!” All that time I was admiring how his clothes stuck to him, it somehow didn’t occur to me that I was putting on as much of a show. I cross my arms over my chest and hiss at him, “You could’ve said something.”

“Sure I could’ve. But then I wouldn’t see your gorgeous tits anymore.”

There’s so much heat rushing to my face that I’m surprised the water doesn’t steam off. “See, this is why I don’t want to get in the car with you. Because you’re an asshole.”

“Oh, come on. You like it. At least a little bit.” He smirks. “You weren’t faking that kiss.”

God, just the memory of it makes me tingle. “Totally fake. Faker than Tofurkey on Thanksgiving. Couldn’t you tell?”

He laughs at that. “That bad, huh?” We’re walking past an old brick wall, and he suddenly grabs my upper arms and swings me around, pressing me up against it. “I’ll show you fake.”

Declan threads his fingers through my dripping hair and tugs, forcing me to look up at him. For a moment the rain spatters my face and then he’s there, his full lips pressing against mine while his free hand slides along my side.

Time stands still. I freeze against him, my hands flat on his chest, but not pushing. Not really. Not enough to stop him while he plunders my mouth.

I respond. I can’t help it. He presses against me, pinning me to the wall and warming me with his body from head to toe. I’m still pissed, but all that energy has to go somewhere, and right now it’s pouring into him through this desperate kiss.

Compared to this, our other kiss did feel fake. The burning passion I feel right now is something I haven’t felt in... well, in four months. Not since I almost let a near-stranger fuck me outside the door to my apartment. Our tongues dance, chasing each other around while we struggle to eliminate any space between our eager bodies.

My hands slide up to grip his hair and pull him to me. He groans into my mouth, and I can feel his cock growing against my stomach as his hand inches up my side until it strokes my breast. He cups me, his thumb flicking across my nipple, making me gasp into his mouth.

We’re out of control. I hook my leg around his thigh, and he grinds against my core until I know that if he doesn’t stop, I’m going to come right here on the street. My fingers clutch his hair, and I try weakly to tear him away, but it’s too little, too late.

Declan’s hand slips into the front of my dress and he kneads my breast, tugging on my nipple. His mouth breaks away from mine, and he leans down to whisper in my ear, “Come for me.”

My legs are shaking. I’d slide down the wall if he wasn’t holding me up.

I want it. I don’t want it.

And then his teeth close around my earlobe, his fingers twist the tight nub of my nipple, and he thrusts his hips, sliding the length of his erection right across my clit. I press my mouth against his shoulder, biting down to stop from crying out as my release washes over me.

Slowly I come to my senses. It takes a lot of effort to push him away, but he lets me go, watching me with an arched eyebrow and a cocky smirk. I take a step back, not trusting myself to stay close.

“We can’t keep doing this. It’s a mistake. Our parents are getting married in a couple of weeks. We work together at your dad’s office.” I don’t know if I’m trying to convince him, or myself, but saying it out loud helps me push back the reality of what just happened. “Jesus, I don’t even think I like you.”

He crosses his arms over his massive chest, his tattoos rippling. “You like what I can do to you. Isn’t that enough?” With a lunge he gets right up in my face again. “Don’t pretend that you would’ve said no if I ripped off your underwear and fucked you right here in the pouring rain. Don’t make this any more complicated than it is.”

His words are a much needed slap in the face.

“You know you and Michael are exactly the same, right?” I take another step back. The furious look on his face is intimidating even if I know he won’t hurt me.

“Don’t even put that little shit into the same sentence with me. We’re nothing alike.”

“Yeah, you are. Two sides of the same macho asshole coin. He pretends he wants a smart, successful wife and the whole white picket fence thing, but he can’t stop sticking his dick in whatever bimbo comes his way. But you? You pretend you don’t give a shit about anything when anyone with eyes can see you’re so hungry for more that it’s eating you up inside.”

“Then you need to get your eyes checked,” he snarls.

“I need to get my head checked is more like it. This is it, I’m done with whatever this is.” Headlights appear down the street, and it seems like something is finally going my way since there’s a glowing taxi sign on the roof. I wave my hand frantically, flagging it down. “Here’s my ride.”

He looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t stop me. Instead he peels off his shirt.

I roll my eyes at him. “Very impressive, but I’ve seen it, and it’s not going to convince me to stay.”

“It’s for you, you idiot. You still look like you’re going topless. At least take this to cover up.” He throws it at me as the cab pulls up.

I hold it for a few moments before grudgingly putting it on. I’d rather not have to spend the whole cab ride trying to cover my breasts. “Thanks. I’ll give it back tomorrow.” Slipping it on is a reminder of how big he is. It was tight on him, but on me I could put on a belt and wear it for a dress.

It’s still warm from being against his skin, and I hate that I notice.

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind knowing you have it, imagining you cuddling up with it at night, smelling me, wishing I was there with you—”

“You’ll have it back tomorrow. Smelling like bleach.”

With a grin he opens up the door for me and I slip in, sliding wetly on the leather seat. Sticking his head into the cab, he catches the cabbie’s eye. “I’ve got your number. She gets home safe, or I’ll come and find you. Got it?” He looks scary as hell, shirtless, drenched and looking like he wants a fight. Well, another one.

“Y—Yeah, sure. Of course.” Apparently the cabbie finds him scary too. “I wasn’t planning anything, man.”

“That’s right.” Declan turns to me, his face softening, but only barely. “I’ll see you at work. We have a lot to do this week.”

“Yeah, yeah. My life will be a living hell, blah blah blah. Just close the damn door.” I glare at him, but I’m not sure he’s convinced. He closes the door, anyway.

The cabbie takes my address and against my better judgment, I look behind me as we pull out. Declan stands there and watches as we drive away, his thumbs stuck into his pockets, the water running off his bare torso.

The image burns into my mind. If I’d gotten into his car tonight we’d have had sex. I want to think that I’d have resisted, but he was right when he’d told me he could’ve taken things all the way when we kissed against the wall. I wouldn’t have stopped him.

When he’s involved, I can’t seem to tell up from down, let alone right from wrong.

Not professionally, and not personally.

Declan

“W
hat were you thinking?” Dad growls at me, hunched behind his desk like a fucking gargoyle. Or a mob boss. His eyes are pure ice, his thick brows knit in a deep frown. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him this pissed.

Other books

Love and Death in Blue Lake by Cynthia Harrison
Grail by Elizabeth Bear
Crave by Melissa Darnell
The Chocolate Lovers' Diet by Carole Matthews
A Voice from the Field by Neal Griffin
The Perfect Host by Theodore Sturgeon
Steampunk Fairy Tales by Angela Castillo
Madonna and Me by Valenti, Jessica, Barcella, Laura
Devil's Food by Janice Weber