Girls' Night Out (Bad Boys) (30 page)

“Excuse me, Mr. Bennett,” she said. “This is awkward, but I’ve never been into playing games. I’m here to discuss market strategy. Nothing more.” She stopped short of asking him what he hoped achieve.

“Pity.” His gaze dropped from her face, hungrily sliding down the front of her body. “I spend each and every day engaged in shoptalk. During my nights, I like to relax and unwind.”

“There’s some mistake, then. I’m not here to do more than discuss research funding. I hope you understand.”

He laughed. “Really?”

“Yes. Really.”

Ryder crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you realize how many women would like to be in your shoes?”

“Too many to count, I imagine. Thank you. I appreciate the offer, but I’m seeing someone.”

“He must be worth it. This is a stepping stone into an arena few people even get near, and you’re willing to walk away.”

Leaning against the doorframe, Ryder Bennett was a handsome, distinguished gentleman. Cory could easily see that he didn’t delve into false modesty—it was more than true that many a woman—or man—would give a right arm to be standing on this threshold. But not her.

“I am,” she said, unblinking.

“My mistake. I’m usually pretty good at reading people. Pygmalion effect probably accounts for this kerfuffle. You’re a lovely young woman. Let me walk you back to the bar.”

This time she led the way. At the entrance to the bar, she turned and extended her hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“Likewise. You’ve got some quality that is…unnerving. The way your eyes light up is enticing. I don’t know what it is about you. Cory, keep my card, and if you ever reconsider call me.”

CHAPTER 23

“Man, weren’t you dating this girl?” Kenny put down the paper. It was Saturday, the day before the big game, and Brett was relaxed and ready. His shoulder felt damned near perfect, and his ankle was mending better than any of the other times he’d injured it. He regarded his teammate and only half attended to the newspaper Kenny held. “Take a look. Yeah. This is that girl.”

He imagined it was someone from his past and he nodded, only barely glancing at the newspaper, and then he did a double take, staring down at the photograph. It was Cory in some fancy bar, her eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights.

Brett read and reread the byline:
Billionaire Marketing Guru, Ryder Bennett, with Latest Acquisition.
A scorching blast of heat shot up from between his shoulder blades. He shook his head. Fuck!
He needed to call her and find out what the fuck she was doing with some rich dude with his hands around her.

God damn! He’d sweated bullets for a week, doing everything in his power to get a pack of fake freaking photographs taken down and destroyed. Threatened to file a lawsuit. Hired a private investigator and had not only his lawyer call Ashley, but had contacted the preacher in the community to garner his help in thwarting any attempt on Cory’s cousin’s part to propagate some lie that would hurt their relationship. He’d done nothing but practice, train, sit at home with bag after bag of ice, take the meds, and become so serious that Raquel and her wife threatened to return to Oxnard because he didn’t need their help.

He picked up his cellphone and was prepared to call Cory and tell her to friggin’ forget it. He’d been down this road before, and he sure as shit wasn’t going to be blindsided by another woman who found comfort in someone else’s arms. This time he wasn’t going to be told it was over. He would do the telling. If it weren’t for the fact that she was already en route, he’d tell her over the phone, goodbye and good luck.

“You’d better settle the fuck down,” Kenny said, keeping his voice low and calm. “You look like you’re going to explode.”

“Got that right,” he snapped.

Someone slapped his back. He turned to see Rich’s face split by a wide grin. “Here to cheer you guys on. You ready?”

“If you mean throttle someone, then yes.”

Rich’s brows drew together. “Man, what’s got you going?”

“Nothing. Thanks for coming. Same shit, different day.”

Rich looked over to Kenny. “You know something.”

“Woman problems. Don’t pull his chain.” Kenny got up and came to stand in front of Brett. “You got to let it go, this close to the game. If you don’t, you’re going to either drive yourself crazy or do something you’ll regret.”

Rich picked up the paper. “She’s the girl from the bar. Christ, I was pretty blitzed, but that’s her. Isn’t it?”

“Does it matter?” Brett muttered and closed his eyes, focusing on his breath.

“It sure looks like it does to you.”

He opened his eyes, grabbed the paper, and ripped it in half. “My rancid luck to hit the jackpot twice.”

Rich pointed at the photograph. “It’s freaking L.A. and she’s in a bar, not a hotel room. Ask her before you jump to any wild conclusions. Look at her. She’s not dressed in some wild getup. She looks like English royalty, or one of the Kennedy clan.”

His heart was ready to claw its way out of his chest. He glanced down and re-read the byline for the
Friday Night Social Scene Across the Nation
. Latest acquisition?

He stared at the photograph of Cory taken last night. After they’d shared mind-blowing phone sex that still had him reeling. What—did she orgasm, shower, and then go out drinking? That didn’t sound true to her nature. Not the woman he knew. Shit. His thoughts began to spin. He didn’t want to believe Cory would do something like what they’d done over the phone and then go out with another man.

Brett raked his fingers through his newly buzzed hair. “I don’t know what to think.”

“Then don’t assume. Ask her.” Rich said.

He inhaled. “You’re right. I’d better not jump in front of a moving train.”

“Fuck yeah. I don’t think history is repeating itself. I mean, what are the chances?” Rich asked.

“I’m not going the take that bet,” he muttered. In two hours, he was set to pick her up. He’d wait until he saw her and calmly ask what was up. Now, what to do for two hours? “You want to work out?”

“Not really, but if it will keep you from getting in trouble, fine. Let’s go pump iron.”

~~~

The second he saw her his heartbeat sped up. She smiled at him; the effect was like a knife that sliced open his chest. He could hardly breathe, let alone walk forward to greet her.

“Did you get hurt?” she asked, concern written all over her face.

He lowered his gaze rather than deal with her question. How to tell her, yeah, he was stabbed to the core over what she’d done. “Let me get your bag,” he said, moving to lift her luggage.

She reached down simultaneously and their bodies collided. Sweet Jesus, the feel of her skin and hair brushing over his skin coupled with her familiar scent made him grit his teeth. He closed his eyes, the knife twisting deeper in his gut.

“Brett, tell me, please. What’s wrong? You’re in pain.” Cory shook his arm.

“I’m fine.” He met her staring up at him, her eyes blinking, and a single tear fell down her cheek as she encircled his forearm with her hand. He studied her hand, the one he’d fully intended on wearing his ring. The one he’d chosen, the one she’d wear forever, the one that meant she’d give her love only to him. Fuck, what a joke. “In better shape than I’ve ever been in. So you don’t have to act like you’re so concerned. Okay?”

“What’s gotten into you? I’m not acting. I’ve never played games.” She inhaled, her eyes widening. That act was similar to the Earth getting ready to unleash gale force winds.

A short, harsh laugh escaped from his mouth. “Pretty talk. Did you learn that at school as well?”

She searched his face. “You’re upset about something to do with my school. But what?”

“Let’s not continue this here.” He turned and began walking toward the exit, fully aware that if he’d wanted to piss her off, leaving her standing there would have the same effect as lighting a fuse to a stick of dynamite. Well, what a fine fucking mess this was. Misery in his book loved company when it came in a tight-bodied package with a sassy mouth.

The clatter of her heels in the hall behind him and then her reflection in the exit doors goaded him to walk faster, lengthening his gait into longer strides. He made it to his car and popped the trunk. He tossed her bag inside, slammed the hood, and then turned to face her.

“Don’t you throw my luggage,” she huffed out of breath.

“I’ll do any damned thing I want to,” he returned. She was so close. He tried not to stare, but found it impossible at that range. Her bright blue eyes glimmered with unshed tears, and then she had to go and bite her lip. The one surefire way to bring him to his knees. “Just go get in the car.”

She stared at him and then, without warning, Cory wrapped her hand in the silk tie he’d worn to the press conference before picking her up. “Why are you so mad?” she asked, pulling their faces closer together.

“Two words. Ryder Bennett.”

She stared, unblinking, into his eyes and loosened her grip. “I’ve no idea what you’re thinking or what you think you know, but nothing happened. I mean
nothing
.”

Brett scrubbed his hand down his face. “The papers are full of your
nothing
from last night.”

“I swear to you. He owns the corporation that funds one of the research grants for my department. I made a mistake,” she whispered. “I thought he wanted to talk to me about marketing. Ended up he only wanted to get laid.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, spacing the words out evenly.

“We met during a grant meeting. I don’t know how he got my telephone number. Probably from the info packet on the UCLA grant directory. He called. It was late but he said not for him.”

He shot her a look of disbelief. “Fuck, and you just met him? At a hotel?”

“No. It was a public place. If I was a man, this wouldn’t be a big deal. It’s only because I’m a woman.”

“It’s because he had his hands on you. That’s the problem,” he snarled.

“A reporter called him. He almost crashed in back of me.”

“I don’t know anything except he was touching you. I don’t like it.” Shit, he wanted to take hold of Cory and shake her, except her wide innocent eyes had him coming apart.

“We didn’t do anything. I told him there was some misunderstanding. I told him I was seeing someone.”

He snapped his head upward. “And he didn’t do anything else?”

“I swear. How could he? After what’d we done? Together.” She took hold of his tie again and pulled him back to her, only this time he didn’t resist when she tugged. He bracketed his hands on either side of her, placing his palms on the trunk of his car.

“I should spank your ass. To teach you a lesson.” Christ, where had all the oxygen in this stinking garage gone? Drawing a breath became difficult…no, impossible. His hard-line in thinking they were over twisted. The instant he pivoted his hips forward, driving himself against her, any belief that he wasn’t going to fuck her dissolved. “God, do you know how crazy you get me?”

“Sort of,” she murmured, bringing her mouth a millimeter from his. ”Like this type of crazy.”

“Yeah. I’m about to explode. Any second.” It was almost a week since he’d seen her but it might as well have been five years. He was hard and bothered and a second away from doing something reckless. If his car had a backseat to speak of he’d have hauled her inside and fucked her until they both were senseless. “I’m taking you back to the hotel and giving you what we both want.”

She reached down between them, slowly slid her hand over his hard-on. Her fingers felt un-fucking-believable. A sharp hiss exited his mouth. “Cory, you’re in trouble. Dammit, you’d better be able to deal with me in this condition.”

“You’re mine. So yeah, I’m prepared.”

~~~

By the time he got them to his hotel and up to his room, he couldn’t wait another second. Slamming open the door, hard enough to dent the drywall, he stood in the entryway, and stopped. He stared at her as he closed the door and locked it.

“Come here,” he commanded and then pushed her against the back of the door. “You’re mine. You got that?”

“Yes. I’ve got it,” she said in a silky voice while she gazed up at him.

He ran his hands over the sides of her face, lifting her hair up with his palms and then cupping the back of her head. He tipped her face up to him. His heartbeat thundered in his chest. Never had he wanted to possess someone or something with this much intensity.

“I want you to be my…,” he couldn’t finish. Shit, he wanted to tell her so much more. But so much of what he felt had gotten frozen when he saw her in the newspaper photograph. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against hers. Cory’s familiar fragrance relaxed him enough to take a breath, inhale her sweetness into his lungs. “God damn. I need you wrapped around me.”

She pressed closer, flexing her hips to grind against him. “Squeezing you tight.”

His cock throbbed and his balls ached, needing a raw release and the kind only this woman could give him. He opened his eyes. “You’re my personal hellcat.”

He crushed his mouth down on her lips, wedging open her mouth with his tongue. He kissed her roughly, tasting her honey-flavored mouth and the feel of her pillow-soft lips. The sweetness ripped apart any ability to fight his urge to take her. He bit her bottom lip before he sucked it into his mouth, and thrust his tongue into her mouth. Over and over, the way he wanted to wildly fuck her. Possess her. He had to hear his name on her lips as she came apart. The way he did thrusting, thrusting, thrusting into her.

Brett released his hold on her, dropping his hands to her shoulders, stroking his thumbs over the mounds along the tops of her breasts. Cory’s pupils dilated, making her eyes go dark and seductive. He ran his hands down her arms, capturing her wrists. The feel of her skin and body, so delicate in his hands, was a perfect fit. He lifted her arms above her head and pushed against her, locking her body in place.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, and moved his mouth to her neck as he drove his straining cock between her legs. He sucked on her skin until she moved restlessly, molding herself to him, pumping her hips and rubbing against his straining cock. Fuck. He was going to explode in his pants.