Ten Reasons to Stay ((The Risky Hearts Duet) Book 1) Page 7

  She’d been so shy. So adorable, as if she had no clue the effect she had on me. Maybe she didn’t. I wanted to pull her against my chest and keep her safe. Make her feel comfortable. Make her see how fucking amazing she was. How insanely beautiful.

  The rest of the week I spent thinking about the swell of her ass and the pleading in her eyes in between business meetings with Jack. I found it odd I wasn’t bothered with knowing I’d fucked the wife of the man brokering deals for me. A man who would make me richer than I already was. A man who’d decided his wife wasn’t enough, so in order to fuck around, he’d given her license to do it as well.

  I guessed I had no sympathy for a man who could let someone as precious as her go.

  By the time Wednesday rolled around, I’d begun to think I wouldn’t hear from her again. I was okay with that. Continuing something with her would be dangerous. It was obvious by the way I couldn’t stop thinking about her. The way I searched for her every time I entered our building. But she’d vanished. Disappeared as if she never were.

  “Sir…” Bianca’s voice came through the speaker in my office.

  “Yes?”

  “You have a call on line one.”

  I picked it up. “This is Cole.”

  “Hi.”

  My stomach did a small flip at the sound of her satin voice.

  “Corinne?”

  “I… uh… you told me to call you.”

  “I did,” I said, straightening my tie. My face screwed up. Why was I straightening my tie?

  “Do you think you could meet me tomorrow? At the park?”

  I checked my schedule. Meetings all day.

  “Sure. What time?”

  “What time is good for you?” she asked, still with the hesitancy in her voice.

  “I’m free all day,” I lied.

  “How does noon sound?”

  I scratched out my meeting with the investors. “Noon is perfect.”

  “Okay. Good. I’ll… I’ll see you then.”

  And then she was gone.

  “Bianca,” I said through the speaker.

  “Sir?”

  “Clear my schedule for tomorrow. I’ll be out of the office all day. Give the meetings to Jack.”

  Keep him busy for me, I thought with a wicked grin.

  She stood on the center of Bow Bridge, staring out at the water.

  I didn’t approach her at first. Just sort of stood back, watching her. The delicate lines of her small frame draped in a sundress decorated with roses. The way the sun filtered in through the trees, casting shapes of shadows across her soft skin. She had an effortless beauty not easily found in New York. A gypsy’s soul that reminded me so much of my mother.

  As if she felt me, she shifted. When she spotted me, a bright smile spread across those sexy red-painted lips of hers.

  I met her on the bridge, feeling like a schoolboy again, heart pattering off rhythm.

  “It’s a beautiful day,” she said, her eyes sparkling. Her hair was down, spilling over her shoulders in thick curls. “I never thought it could be this beautiful in New York.”

  September was my favorite month in the city. The heat battled with the fall, oftentimes losing, as the leaves began to flourish in color. My overheated system welcomed the cool. Loved the change in attire as jackets replaced short sleeves.

  Shoving my hands into my pockets, I fell into step beside her. “This city has a soul of its own. A wild, untamed spirit.”

  “Sort of like you,” she remarked.

  I nudged her shoulder. “And you.”

  The blush in her cheeks matched the roses on her dress. How did she do it? How was she so beautiful, inside and out?

  “How was your week?” I asked, drawn to the floral scent coming from her neck. I wanted to stop her. Kiss her deeply, until she was senseless and begging to go back to my place.

  “If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” she said, playfully smiling.

  “That bad?”

  She nodded, pure mischief in her gaze. “You?”

  I like how she joked. Liked her playfulness. I reached down and picked up a forgotten water bottle, then tossed it into the trash. “One board meeting after the next. Countless decisions being made. This is the first time I’ve taken time to walk and enjoy the scenery in months.”

  “Then I’m glad I could be of service.” She did a small dip, fanning the ends of her dress out.

  My heart picked up its beat. “It’s your services I can’t get out of my mind.”

  I enjoyed it when she blushed. Her eyes were so open. Honest. How could someone not want to keep her all to himself?

  “Can I ask you about him?” I questioned, wanting to know more about their situation. Her mind was like a secret garden, and I was standing on the outside, peeking in.

  “I guess,” she said, seeming unsure.

  “How long have you been married?”

  “Nine years.” Her face dropped a little. She paused, peeking over at me. “We were happy once. I don’t… I’m not sure when things changed.”

  “People tend to do that… change.”

  She shrugged, her sparkle dimming.

  “What about kids?”

  She shook her head. “They aren’t really his thing. He’s… well, you know how busy his work can be.”

  “Yeah.” I kicked at a leaf. “I guess I do.”

  A jogger ran past, the notes from his headphones like static in the air. The park was full of people. It was the only place in the city where it didn’t feel like a city. At least for me.

  “Do you think you’ll ever settle down?” she asked, her hands clasped behind her back as we strolled side by side.

  “I’m married to my business,” I admitted. “Besides, I’m not sure I’d be enough for someone with how busy my schedule is.”

  “I think you could,” she said quietly.

  “Yeah?”

  She was smiling again, the mood lifting. “Yeah.”

  We spent a good hour walking. Talking. Laughing at one another. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had made me laugh the way she did. Made me feel like more than a suit crunching numbers, or a body they wanted to brand and tag to make their own. After sharing lunch over a couple of slices of pizza, we headed back into the park, back to where we met.

  I was so fucking happy. Grabbing her hand, I spun her into my arms.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, giggling despite the tension coiled in her shoulders as we swayed side to side.

  “Dancing,” I said, laughing a little. She felt good in my arms as the sun winked at us. We were in the park, in the middle of a sidewalk surrounded by people, but all I saw was her.

  I spun her around, then pulled her in, one hand around her waist, the other holding hers.

  “Today was nice,” I said as we swayed.

  “It was.”

  “Will this become a thing? Thursdays?”

  She grinned. “If you’d like it to be, yes.”

  I pressed my lips beside her ear. “I’d very much like it to be.”

  A couple walked by, smiling at us, and every bone in her body went stiff. “I think we should set rules.”

  “Do you and your husband have rules?” I asked, twirling her again.

  “Yes. This can’t work without them.”

  I was intrigued. “Okay, then. What rules should we have?” I dipped her low, pressing my lips against the nape of her neck where I’d been dying to kiss all day.

  She stopped. Stepped back. “We can’t. Not in public.”

  I grinned. “Okay… no romance in public. Got it. Anything else?”

  “We shouldn’t talk either. Only on Thursdays.”

  I chuckled. “May I add one?”

  She nodded.

  “You have to take charge. In the bedroom. It will be good for you to let out that selfish side.”

  There was that blush again. A rich red. I imagined her in my bed, covered in a thousand roses.

  “Okay,” she said,
trying to hide a smile.

  “Do you think you can follow those rules?” I asked, already knowing I was doomed.

  Her chin was out again. She prided herself on seeming in control. “Of course I can. I’m the one who made them.”

  Chapter 9

  Corinne

  The days of the week became a blur of gray. Thursdays were color.

  After that day in the park, I felt something shifting in me. Changing. Like the old me was pushing her hands up from the grave I’d buried her in, clawing her way back to the surface. I used to love to tease people. To make them laugh. Every day was ripe with possibilities, and I let that part of myself infect anyone I could.

  Jack had loved that about me. I couldn’t put my finger on when it all stopped. When my light began to dim. Maybe it was the endless days at the office. Him coming home, exhausted, wanting to veg out in front of the TV. Maybe it was the shift of his career… needing to focus more on getting to the top rather than focusing on what he had at home.

  Everything just became a repeat of the day before. He didn’t laugh at my teasing, so I lost the luster for it.

  But Cole…

  It was Thursday, and I was standing in my bathroom, cutting the tags from the new lingerie set I bought earlier that day. It was a sheer black teddy with a floral application over my breasts, the rest of my body exposed. I’d never bought anything like it before. Jack didn’t care for a parade of underwear. He was a straight-to-the-point kind of lover. Strip down, get under the covers, and then send each other into bliss.

  Cole took his time. He appreciated every part of having sex, and it opened me up to what it could be like. It didn’t have to be the same. It was okay to ask for what I wanted. Okay to take a chance in the bedroom. Try something different.

  I slid a form-fitting red dress on over it, and then stepped into a pair of black heels. He liked me in red.

  I liked me in red.

  I felt bold. Daring. Confident.

  Stepping into the hallway, I stood in front of the elevator, my stomach threatening to fly away. It was five o’clock… our agreed-upon time to meet. I saw the light on overhead, knowing he was on his way. The moment the doors slid open, he pulled me in and pressed me into the corner of the small shaft, his lips teasing me senseless. His hands slid between my thighs, playing with me over the outside of my panties. This was the fourth Thursday I’d been with him, and it still felt like the first. Still felt thrillingly wrong.

  “I’ve been waiting all week for this,” he said, lips skimming my collarbone, and then dipping between my breasts. He licked. Nipped at my nipple through the thin material of my dress.

  “Good,” I said, my hand delving into his hair, tugging his head back. He liked me in control.

  I liked it, too

  “But you’re going to have to wait some more.”

  When the doors slid open, he growled in protest as I brushed past him, putting an extra sway to my hips.

  He followed me through his hallway. Sat when I pointed to the end of the chaise lounge. I inched my dress down, slowly, teasingly, until I stood in front of him in my lingerie and heels. Caught sight of myself in the mirror on the wall behind him. My hooded eyes. Lips parted, slick with desire. I was another version of myself. A version I had only just met. A wildling swimming for the surface.

  He hissed at the sight. Reached out for me.

  I swatted his hand away. “Not yet.”

  I wanted his pleasure to come first. Wanted to do what I’d been thinking about since that first night of messaging. When I unzipped his pants, his hands gripped the pillows, trying his hardest to keep his restraint. Letting me take control.

  He lifted his hips when I slid his pants, and then his underwear, down. I wouldn’t be able to take him entirely in my mouth. He was too large, but there were other ways to make up for that.

  I slid my mouth over the length of him. Licked the underside all the way to the tip, where I sucked and played, following his groans to discover what he liked. My hand at the base, I pumped, still taking as much of him in as I could.

  His knuckles were white. Thighs clenched. Mouth slightly open as he watched my every move in sweet agony. “Let me see your ass,” he demanded, eyes hungry, greedy.

  I moved slightly to the side. He reached forward, running his hands over the swell before slapping it.

  When he was close, I stood, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I wanted him badly, and my imagination flourished with all the ways I could have him.

  Standing in front of him, I pushed him backward. Crawled over him until his mouth rested against my clit. I tugged on the ends of his hair, pressing him closer, feeling breathless and flushed as his lips moved over my opening, licking down the center, sending my mind into a frenzy.

  Within minutes, I was seeing stars, riding out the waves against his mouth.

  “My turn,” he said, gaze dark, hooded. Spinning me around, he pressed my body into the couch. Nipped at my ass as I handed him the power, ready to submit.

  And then he fucked me from behind.

  We laid there, spent, my toes near his face, my head on his legs.

  “In three words, describe how you see me,” I said, my body completely relaxed. This was my favorite part of my time with him. Talking to him was easy.

  The more time I spent with him, the more I became familiar with all his sides. The tough negotiator. The charming farm boy. The fire in the bed. I noticed the little things. The ticks of his face. The differences in his laughter. The curve of his knuckles. He was layers upon layers of man. Confidence and playfulness. Charm and wit. Humor and kindness.

  I understood why he was notorious when it came to being a bachelor. Why women had a tough time letting him go. Around Cole, it felt like the world stood still because he demanded it to. Time took a backseat because he willed it so.

  He moved his head so he could see me better, our bodies a tangled mess of satisfaction. “Hmmm… light,” he said, his finger circling my ankle. “Real.”

  His words were tiny windows being pushed open in my heart, letting some of that light out.

  He chuckled, and then added, “And also a little minx.”

  My jaw dropped.

  “You are.” He shifted to his side, fingers tracing lines up the back of my calf. “Your turn.”

  I thought about it for a moment. There were so many ways to describe Cole. Even though we’d only known each other for a short amount of time, I felt like I knew him on a deeper level. Kindred. Certain. Something that was in my veins.

  Something I tried not to think too deeply about.

  “Confident. Layered,” I said, my fingers intertwining with his. “Good-hearted.”

  He chuckled at that. “I doubt those who know me outside of here would agree that I’m good-hearted.”

  “Then they don’t really know you,” I said honestly.

  He caught my gaze, his eyebrow dipping. It didn’t seem as if anyone had ever told him that before. I wasn’t sure he knew that he actually needed to hear it.

  “To them, I’m a machine. A means to an end. Dollar signs.”

  I flipped his hand over, tracing the lines in his palm. “I’d play my violin for you, but I left it at home.”

  He laughed, the sound like music.

  “I get it,” I said a moment later. “You just want to be seen.”

  The shock on his face registered deep in my gut.

  “I know, because I do, too.”

  The fire crackled in front of us, and I felt a small pang in my stomach. I remembered when Jack and I first moved into our apartment… we’d saved up everything just to own three-hundred square feet. We’d made love on a mattress on the floor, and then ate takeout over candlelight. We barely got through a few bites before he was taking the food from my hand, pressing his body on top of me, kissing me all over while we laughed and played with each other.

  He was always touching me. Always smiling.

  Until a couple years ago, shortly after his
mother passed.

  The relationship he had with her had been strained. She was a rigid woman, her nose always upturned. When I was first introduced to her, she had been indifferent. More concerned with Jack’s lack of financial success. She spent the entirety of the meal we shared drilling into him that a man’s worth starts with what’s in his wallet and ends with the top of the career ladder she expected him to climb.

  We didn’t see much of her after that. I think he was too scared to bring me around her again. Even at the wedding, he managed to spend maybe only five minutes with her, and that was when he was forced to do the mother-son dance.

  But, when she passed, something shifted in him. Maybe because he had never reached the point where he felt like he had made her proud. He started working more. Investing in expensive things. Our financial debt was growing, putting a strain on us until he caught the break with Cole.

  “What are you thinking about?” Cole asked, tracing the curve of my foot.

  “Jack,” I said honestly. I didn’t want to lie to Cole. Honesty was something we both brought to the table.

  “What about?” There was no jealousy in his tone. I liked that about him. About this situation.

  I told him about that first night long ago. “It all felt so fresh and possible. And now…”

  “Now?”

  “Now, I don’t know. All of this… how easily we’ve fallen into accepting this… I just never saw this for myself.”

  He was grinning.

  “What?” I asked, finding my lips matching his.

  “I never saw this either. Sleeping with the same woman for this long. Not wanting her to rush off after. What are you doing to me, Corinne?”

  An uncomfortable feeling prickled at the back of my neck. I rolled, taking the cashmere blanket with me before standing.

  “Don’t rush off… stay.” His words were foggy, jarring, like a brand-new song, the phrase taking on new shapes and meaning.

  I kept my back to him, heart shuddering beneath my skin. “Why?” I barely breathed out.

  “Because this was fun,” he admitted. He paused a beat. “You still have three hours.”