Heavy Issues (6 page)

One thing was certain, though: tequila nights were off, effective immediately.

“I wanted to explain to him that all that stud thing was a misunderstanding, just the tequila talking, but then he started pushing me about—”

Holly suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. “Wait. Let’s backtrack for a second. All that I’m-gonna-hire-a-stud-and-get-monumentally-laid business was just the tequila talking?”

“I was drunk, Holly.”

“So? Drunks and kids speak the truth.”

“And they both pee on themselves. Your point being?”

While she didn’t find the idea of hiring a pro as advantageous now as she’d found it while drunk, it sure had its merits. There would be no judging involved. She wouldn’t have to worry about pleasing—or disappointing—anyone. Or about being acceptable. There was no relationship. It was a business arrangement. Clean, nonmessy, perfectly stipulated and agreed upon. The guy wasn’t in it for the sex, so he wasn’t in a position to make her feel inadequate. Throwing Cole into the mix changed all the parameters, though. For one, because what he was proposing was as messy as it got. She’d have to see him afterward. Everywhere. There would be a relationship—not the kind the women in town would assume, but a relationship nevertheless.

And second, if she hired a gigolo, she’d pick a guy who could follow a script, a nonthreatening, metrosexual type, not someone like Cole. He’d just take over. Guys like him couldn’t follow a script even if their lives depended on it—somebody else’s script, that is. Cole was, in one word, scary. Too big. Too hard. Probably very demanding too. She wouldn’t know what to do with him. Christine Sheridan, with all her shitty baggage and unresolved issues, wasn’t ready for the big bad wolf, never mind the charming wrapping. And wasn’t that a pity, for the man was a walking, talking sex fantasy. And he was probably a fucking machine in bed. A beautiful yet very big, very intimidating fucking machine.

“…today?”

Holly’s voice forced her to get her mind out of the gutter. “What?” She looked at her friend, who was frowning.

“Is he going to be in the Red Chicken tonight?”

Christy nodded. Yes, Cole was going to be waiting for her. He’d actually said that much before arrogantly leaving the basement yesterday with a satisfied smile on his face. With her lollipop, she might add, and the frigging ladder. He’d said that if she wanted it back, she’d have to come to work in normal hours. She’d tried protesting, but for all the good that did her, she might as well have said nothing. The man didn’t listen to reason. If she couldn’t hold her ground over a lollipop or a ladder, how the hell was she going to keep her head above water in the bedroom?

“I wish you’d told us about this. Why didn’t you say anything?” Holly admonished her and continued walking, a somehow worried look on her face.

“Tell you what? That he probably thinks I’m easy and wants first chance to bag me?”

“No, silly, about the stud mission maybe just being drunk talk. We might have reconsidered your birthday present.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing, sweetie. Just thinking aloud.”

“Holly, my birthday is in three days, not—”

“Yeah, well, we’re celebrating today.”

“But I recall specifically telling you all I didn’t want to celebrate.”

“Too bad, sweetie, because you’re getting a small celebration, champagne included. Now deal with it. And don’t worry, there’s no cake.”

“In the Red Chicken?”

Holly nodded.

Hell. Double whammy. Cole and a birthday party. Swell.

I’d better start gathering intel
. “Do you know Cole well?” Christy knew Holly had been friends with James forever, and now with his fiancée, Tate, too. As a matter of fact, Holly was in charge of organizing her bachelorette party along with Tate’s sister, but Christy had no clue whether her friend's knowledge extended to the other Bowen brothers.

“Not too well. They’re all serial daters, players. James was a heartbreaker until he met Tate and fell for her. Cole is more discreet than Max, but he plays just as hard. I wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s a user, because he’s too nice and respectful with women, but any girl hooking up with him clearly knows there are no strings attached,” she explained as they reached the entrance to the Red Chicken.

Yes, he’d made it pretty clear he wasn’t into relationships. Which, for once, wasn’t the issue—his drop-dead-gorgeous looks and his pushiness were.

“Ah, and I heard he’s hung like a horse. And fucks for hours. I want a full report after the deeds are done. Let’s see if gossip has it right.”

“Holly!” Christy chided her, flushing red, but her friend just winked at her.

The Red Chicken was packed, not only because it was Friday night, but because there was also some charity event in the Lake Resort Club on the outskirts of town, and a bunch of dentists had come down from Boston for it. Some of the more adventurous guests had made their way into the local bar.

Luckily Sophie and Annie were already waiting for them at their table. Christy didn’t have time to greet them and sit down before she spotted Cole approaching. Holy shit, he looked imposing with that black shirt molding his spectacular chest and those worn jeans softly hugging those muscular thighs.

“He’s been throwing glances toward this table for a while already. For the life of me, I don’t know why,” Sophie whispered. Christy couldn’t answer because her mind was frozen and her gaze stuck to the man currently coming closer and closer. He was not babe-faced, traditionally handsome like Max. He was rugged and wild-looking and very focused.

“Maybe the fact that he asked Christy out yesterday has something to do with it,” Holly informed them.

“He asked you out? Why on earth didn’t you say anything?” Annie almost screamed at her.

“Because silly girl here turned him down,” Holly explained, rolling her eyes. “Got pissy on top of that.”

“You turned him down?” Sophie gave Christy a stupefied look.

“He didn’t ask me out. He asked me to sleep with him. And I told you, Holly, the dates he was offering were fake.”

“What?” Annie and Sophie both shrieked.

“Never mind, I’ll tell you later,” Christy said in a hushed tone.

Her friends didn’t seem too pleased, but by then Cole had reached their table.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

His deep voice washed over her. God, no one sounded like Cole. His low, raspy voice caressed her from within and sent all her senses into overdrive, leaving her mind scattered and her body aching. He brushed his lips with hers while she mumbled something totally unintelligible even for herself, her face so hot she was sure she’d burst a blood vessel.

“You’re late. Mind if I sit, ladies?” He offered Christy one of those devastating grins of his, and her heart all but stopped. Thank God the guy had been scowling at her at work, because truly, since he’d turned the charm on her, she hadn’t been able to put two and two together. No wonder women melted around him.

Sophie and Annie looked thunderstruck while he went ahead and sat down.

Holly smirked and whispered to her, “Well, you might have tried to turn him down. Obviously it didn’t get through.”

At that moment James and his fiancée, Tate, entered the bar and came straight toward them.

“Hello, my man,” James said, clapping Cole’s back. “We have a full house tonight.”

As Holly moved to her right and left space for them to sit, the waitress came over with an icy bottle of champagne, some glasses, and an envelope. “Finally the girl of the hour. Happy birthday, honey,” she said, smiling to Christy, and after leaving the bottle and the glasses on the table, she handed Christy the closed envelope. “This is for you from your friends.”

Sophie and Holly lunged to interfere, but Christy grabbed the envelope before her friends had a chance to snatch it away.

“Today’s your birthday?” Cole asked in a clipped voice. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

She ignored his tone.

“Christy, wait…” Annie said, but it was too late, for she’d opened the envelope and was reading the card.

A gala invitation. Before she could truly understand what she was looking at, Cole loomed over her and glanced at the paper. He became very still and his jaw clenched.

“You got her an invitation to a stud convention? Are you nuts?”

James barked out a laugh. He seemed the only one truly amused.

“It’s not a stud convention,” Holly said, glaring at Cole. “Studs®us.com is the classiest escort agency in Boston and they’re hosting their yearly gala.”

“Hey, am I getting an invitation like that for my bachelorette party?” Tate asked.

“Not happening, princess,” James countered, pulling his woman onto his lap.

“Just kidding, baby,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I already have my own stud.”

Sophie turned to Christy. “There’ll be plenty of st—hem—men around,” she corrected. “It’s just innocent play. A dinner. Who you mingle with afterward is just your business and your decision. You sounded so dead serious the other night that we decided to go for it. We didn’t know you didn’t mean it.”

“If we’d known, we’d have gone more traditional…”

Christy cringed. More traditional? As in what, a dildo and a battery charger? She caught her friends’ gazes straying nervously toward Cole. “We can return it if you like,” Holly told her.

“Good idea,” Cole replied. “You do that. She won’t be needing it.”

What? Who the hell was he to make those decisions? She heard her own spine cracking. “Why would I want you to return it?” she said to her girlfriends. “You were right all along. Studs don’t fall from the sky. Ordering them online is more effective. Thank you.”

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Cole’s jaw pulsing. Yeah, not the most appropriate comment. He wasn’t a happy camper right now. But that was nothing compared with what he looked like after several men had wandered to their table to ask the birthday girl to dance. She’d turned them all down, but that didn’t seem to placate him and by the time the fourth dentist approached, he was so tense his jaw was going to break. He looked furious enough that not even his usual groupies dared to approach him.

“Birthday girl is dancing with me,” he said with a growl at the poor guy and, grabbing her by her hand, dragged her to the dance floor.

“You’re too popular for your own good,” he said as he took her in his arms and started dancing.

“Nope, I’m not. It’s the stupid crown Holly put on my head. Men can’t resist trying to be a woman’s birthday present. Some kind of porn-flicks-based fantasy, I think.”

He pressed her against him. As he possessively held on to her, his heat slipped into her body, shooting straight to her core, burning her up from the inside.

“I thought you weren’t that interested in hiring a gigolo,” he whispered.

“Changed my mind,” she answered, trying to sound confident. She was walking on thin ice here. Playing games with Cole would get her fucked—literally.

As the song finished and he began maneuvering them back to the table, some guy struck up a conversation with her.

Cole got in between them and, with a glare, made the other guy back down.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said to her once they were alone again. “Forget it.”

“What? Forget what?” she asked, amused.

“You were measuring him up, and he was looking at you as if you were dessert. There’s going to be none of that. Unless of course I’m the one sampling the dessert.”

She snorted. “Really? I wonder what he thinks I am: a double-fudge chocolate cake or a banana split? Should we ask him?” she said, turning in the other guy’s direction.

Cole growled and, gripping her hand, began dragging her out.

“Hey, where are we going?”

“Out of here. You and I are going to have a nice little chat.”

Uh-uh, she needed an escape route. “I’m tired. I’d rather go home. Let’s talk another day.”

“I’ll walk you home,” he insisted.

So much for plan A. Plan B?

“I live around the corner. There’s no need.”

Now it was he who snorted.

As they passed their table, Cole took her purse.

“Wait, you’re forgetting my present,” she said and extended her hand toward Holly, who was holding the invitation.

He intercepted the envelope. “We won’t be needing that, will we?” he asked, his eyes ablaze.

“One never knows…” she mumbled, weirdly compelled to taunt him.

“Yes, one knows. You girls can decide who goes in Christy’s place. She’s definitely not going.”

Instead of fighting for her or at least showing some outrage on her behalf, her friends accepted Cole’s statement at face value and began discussing who should attend the event.

“Traitors,” Christy said accusingly and then turned to Cole with a scowl as he unceremoniously maneuvered them out of the bar and into the street. “You’re behaving like a Neanderthal.”

“A Neanderthal? We haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of my primitive side, sugar.”

He fell upon her lips the second they turned the corner into a secluded back alley.

This kiss had nothing to do with the one he’d given her in the bar. It was full of stark hunger and possession, his lips, his teeth, and his tongue working in turns to possess her, to drive her insane with need. He wasn’t kidding anymore. And she was out of her depth.

“We need some ground rules here,” she told him in a shaky voice.

He backed her to the wall, his voice a low rumble that abraded her senses and sent her stomach plummeting.

“No, we don’t.” There it went. The thin ice under her feet was gone. “No-strings-attached sex in exchange for decoy dates. I agree to those terms, fully, but that’s where your conditions end, sweetheart. I won’t fuck you in accordance with a set of orders. That’s not me. I’m no puppet. I want the freedom to fuck you however I want, whenever I want, and wherever I want.”

He grabbed both her hands with one of his and immobilized them over her head. He parted her legs with his thigh and sank the lower part of his body into her, grinding his impressive erection against her while his other hand caressed her ribs and moved down to her hip. She tugged at his hand, trying to free herself, and when she couldn’t, a totally unexpected shiver of excitement ran through her.