Playing Dirty: Windy City Kink, Book 3 (18 page)

Trenise was waiting for her to go on.

“He took me to San Diego.”

A furrow appeared between Trenise’s eyebrows. “Uh…there’s a restaurant called San Diego?”

“Nope. The city. We flew there on a private Learjet Friday night and came home last night.”

“Shut the fuck up! You did not!” Wide-eyed, Trenise clasped her hands in front of her.

Paige had to laugh. “Truth.”

“Unbelievable! Holy shit!” Trenise grabbed a chair and sat, staring at her. “Where did you stay?”

“In a cottage on the beach at the Hotel Del Coronado.”

Trenise whimpered. “Was it lux?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Wow. Just wow. Oh, Paige. That’s so awesome for you. I told you he’s into you!”

Paige nodded, smiling faintly. “He doesn’t take no for an answer.”

“Why would you want to say no to him?” Trenise’s forehead wrinkled.

Paige headed to her computer. Several new clients had signed up and she needed to get on that. “It’s a long story. I’m just being cautious, I guess.”

“Oh, honey. You need to loosen up and have some fun with that man. San Diego! For the weekend! On a private jet!” Trenise shook her head. “I’d be so all over that. I’m freakin’ jealous. Your weekend was waaay better than mine.”

Trenise had shared with Paige earlier that her younger brother had come home bruised and bloody on Saturday night and had refused to tell any of the family what happened. She’d downplayed how worried she was about him, but Paige had sensed her tension. Trenise still lived at home with her dad and brother, and Paige knew her brother was a handful. Her dad apparently didn’t do much but drink himself into a coma every night, although he did hold down a job. Drinking was his coping mechanism for losing his wife, Trenise’s mom, to breast cancer a couple of years ago.

So Paige was now worried about Trenise. She’d hired her as an assistant only a few months ago but had definitely gotten lucky. She couldn’t afford to pay much, just needed someone to help out, but Trenise had proven invaluable, committing to the job and taking the initiative to do things Paige didn’t even ask her to. She’d also become fond of the younger woman.

Trenise was right. Paige’s weekend had been way better than hers. Thinking back to everything that happened since Raff picked her up in that limo Friday night, it was like a dream. A sizzling-hot, sexy dream. She’d been having a hard time focusing on work that morning, remembering Raff’s kisses, his touch, how incredible he’d been—generous, intuitive, sweet.

Probably not many people would call Raff sweet.

“Let’s get back to work,” she said. “Raff is…confusing.”

“If you say so.” Trenise didn’t sound convinced. “I ain’t confused about how gorgeous and sexy he is, not to mention…
loaded
.”

They got back to work but were interrupted an hour later by a phone call.

After greetings, the woman introduced herself as Amanda Gardner, an interior designer. “I’ve worked a lot with Challenger, doing designs for some of their properties. They asked me to set up a meeting with you to review what you want done to Unit 101, Heaton Plaza.”

Paige gave her head a little shake. “Excuse me? A designer?”

“Yes. I understand you just signed a lease with them and the unit will need some decorating. Have you got any ideas of what you want? By the way, I love the concept of your business. I checked out your website. I think I’m going to sign up.”

“Um. Thanks. That’s great. Uh…” she tried to marshal her thoughts, “…I have a few basic ideas. I was going to go to…Target or something and pick out a few things for the place.”

Amanda laughed. “Target has some great stuff. Let’s figure out a color scheme and I’ll work up some drawings for you. I get some industry discounts if you want me to scope out some furniture and accessories.”

A designer was probably going to have very expensive ideas and buy things from expensive places. Paige bit her lip. She wanted the place to look nice, obviously—classy and upscale—to convey the right image to her clients. But she didn’t have a lot of cash to throw around.

“I’m not sure,” she said slowly. “I don’t think I can afford the services of a designer, and—”

“Oh, there’s no cost to you,” Amanda broke in. “Challenger covers the cost.”

“Oh. Okay.” She paused. “Really?”

“Really.”

“But, still, I don’t have a big budget for decorating. Like I said, I was going to go to Target.”

“I’m definitely used to working within a budget, don’t worry about that.”

“Okay. When do you want to meet?”

“How’s tomorrow?”

“That works for me.”

They arranged a time to meet at Heaton Plaza.

Paige ended the call, a little befuddled. She hadn’t expected that. She’d planned to paint and decorate everything herself.

Trenise left at five. Paige stayed later, going online to do some banking and pay some bills, taking care of some emails. When her stomach growled, she noticed the time on her computer was nearly six thirty. It was supposed to be her turn to cook, but Kevin had texted her that he had a business dinner that night. She and Trenise had argued over who should take the uneaten salad from lunch—“you take it”; “no
you
take it”—but in the end Trenise had taken it. Paige would go home and make herself a bowl of soup or something. After that huge lunch it was amazing she was even hungry.

The huge lunch reminded her of Raff. Why had he done that? It had been sweet—again—and he’d practically charmed Trenise out of her panties, but for what? What had he gotten out of it? Other than lunch.

She shut down her computer, grabbed her coat and found her purse, then turned out the lights. After setting the alarm, she let herself out of the building. The street outside was dark and quiet, and a sharp wind sliced through her coat. She scanned the street quickly. It had been a night just like this when Delmer had shown up as she was about to leave, and she couldn’t help but be aware of that. And a little nervous.

A car door closed behind her and she turned, hearing footsteps approaching, to see a large dark shadow looming. A man.

Chapter Eighteen

“Hi, Paige,” Raff said.

She pressed a hand to her chest where her heart had leaped. “Oh my God,” she gasped. “You scared the life out of me.”

“Sorry, babe. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He took hold of her arm and led her toward his car, parked at the curb.

“What are you doing here?” She was sounding like she was set on repeat, for the love of goats.

“Driving you home.”

“Raff! Why?”

“Are you not going home?”

“Yes, of course I am, but I can take the train like I always do.”

“No need.” He handed her inside the car and she let her head fall back against the seat in frustration. The lovely warmth inside the car wrapped around her. Gritting her teeth, she reached for her seat belt and buckled up. He climbed in the driver’s side and started the car.

“How was the rest of your day?” he asked casually.

She rolled her head against the seat to look at him. He put the car in gear and pulled away from curb with a glance over his shoulder. His hands held the wheel with sexy sureness. “Productive,” she said. “What’s with the interior designer?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “That should be obvious. You need to redesign that space the way you want it.”

“Raff. You keep doing this shit.”

His lips firmed.

“I can do this on my own,” she said, her voice husky. “I
want
to do this on my own.”

“You
are
doing this on your own.”

“But you keep butting in. Taking over.”

His eyebrows lowered but he kept his eyes on the road. “I’m not taking over. Jesus Christ.”

“You
are
. And the more you do, the more I feel…I owe you.”

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I feel like I do.”

“I’m telling you, you don’t. Jesus, Paige. Thought we were past this shit.”

Her face tightened and she clenched her hands on her purse in her lap.

She knew what he meant. They
had
been past this shit. Saturday night and yesterday in San Diego had been so lovely and easy. She turned away from him and looked out the side window at the city lights sliding past.

She’d been so determined that she could do this. She could go on that weekend date, have fun with him, have sex with him, and that would be the end of it. Last night when he’d dropped her off, she’d made her stand. She’d told him she wasn’t going out with him again. And yet, here she was. He was some force of nature or something, blasting in and getting his own way, no matter what.

She should have known he wasn’t going to give up.

Why did she want him to give up?

Oh yeah—because she was trying to be a strong, independent woman. Make her own decisions, make a success of her new life, and not ever,
ever
let a man have the ability to control her and abuse her.

Raff was clearly a man who liked control. And recognizing she liked that scared the shit out of her. She could not go back there. She could not be that woman again.

But again…here she was, sitting in his car with him, even though she’d told him she wouldn’t go out with him again. What was wrong with her? Was she that weak that men could see they could walk all over her?

The corners of her eyes stung and she blinked hard as everything blurred. Shitballs.

A big, warm hand touched hers, enveloping it, lifting it off her purse and pulling it to his lap. “Paige,” Raff said, voice husky. He squeezed her hand. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying.”

“Yeah. You are.”

She lifted her other hand to swipe at the tear that had escaped. He was so observant, especially disturbing since he was focusing on driving.

“Don’t wanna make you cry, baby,” he said softly. His hand tightened on hers again briefly, so warm and strong. “That is
not
what I want.”

She nodded, still looking away from him.

“You gotta talk to me,” he continued. “When we get to your place. Yeah?”

She nodded again, even though she wanted to tell him how she was feeling as much as she wanted to throw herself off the West Wabash Bridge into the Chicago River.

He held her hand pressed to his thigh all the way home. Then he had to release it to put the car in Reverse to back into a parking spot on her street.

Kevin wasn’t home. They were going to be alone. That was probably best but also unnerving.

She unlocked the door, stepped into the dark house and disarmed the alarm system. She flicked a switch and the light above them in the foyer bloomed. Raff shut the door behind them to close out the blustery cold.

The air thickened around them as she removed her coat and hung it in the closet. She turned to Raff. She didn’t invite him in, but he was there and innate courtesy prompted her to say, “Can I take your jacket?”

“Thanks.” He shrugged out of the hip-length, black leather jacket and handed it to her. She hung it too. “Looks like Kevin’s not home.”

“No.” Balls. Maybe she should have lied and said he was upstairs. “He texted me earlier that he was going out tonight.”

“Have you eaten? Probably not,” he answered his own question.

“No. I was going to make some soup.”

“That’s not gonna do it for me.”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t plan a gourmet meal for you. I actually don’t remember inviting you for dinner.”

“Paige. Babe.” he moved closer. “Don’t play games.”

She flinched. “Play games?
Play games?
What the ever-loving fuck are you talking about?” She knocked his hands away from her. “I’m not the one playing games! I’m the one who said I’m not seeing you again!
You’re
the one who’s playing games! Playing dirty! Showing up with lunch. Showing up to drive me home. What are you
doing
?”

“Calm down, Paige.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up against him. “Calm down. It’s okay.”

“It’s not—” His mouth met hers. She froze momentarily, but his mouth on hers was so sexy and delicious, his arms felt so good, his body so big and strong—everything she was craving, however much she wanted to deny it—she succumbed to it.

“You know there’s something between us,” he murmured, his big hand coming up to cup the back of her head and hold her as she buried her face in the side of his neck.

“Yes. But…”

“Why is there a
but
? Why don’t we just do this and see where it goes?”

She kept her face pressed to his neck, her eyes squeezed shut. His question seemed so reasonable. Was she again overreacting to it all? She drew in a slow, shaky breath, then lifted her head.

“Okay.” His eyes lit up. “But…” his face tightened again, “…seriously, Raff, you have to stop doing stuff for me.”

His lips thinned and he held her gaze. “Not sure I can do that. I do stuff for people I care about.”

Again, how could she argue with that? “When it comes to my business, I want to make it on my own.”

“I told you before—you are.”

“I guess we both see this differently.”

“I’m trying to understand your perspective. I think I do. What do you want me to do differently?”

“Maybe…maybe
ask
me before you do something.”

He gave her a slow smile that made her heart skip a bit and gave her a flutter down low inside. “I can do that.” He touched his mouth to hers in a soft kiss. “I’m hungry. Let’s order pizza.”

Sweet zombie Jesus. She gave up. “Okay.”

They ordered pizza from a nearby place. They ate it sitting on the couch, watching
Criminal Minds
. When they were done eating, she put away the leftovers, and when she sat on the couch again, Raff put his arm around her and pulled her up against him.

“Did you go home and change before you came to get me?” she asked, since he was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved black Henley.

“Yeah.”

“Where do you live?”

“Same building as my office.” He held one of her hands and rubbed his thumb over the back of it. “I have the penthouse suite.”

“Oh. That makes it easy.”

“Yep. Just an elevator ride to work.”

“I assume your building is downtown.”

“Mmm. East Randolph Street. The Challenger Building.”

“I don’t think I know it.”

“You probably know it. It’s pretty distinctive. Bronze colored, curved at the front…”

“Oh. I do know it. It’s gorgeous.”

“We won an award for the design. In part because it’s all eco-friendly.”

“Did…” She hesitated. Was this going to sound stupid? “Did you design it?”

“No.” He smiled. “The architect was Ren Tadishi.”

“Oh.” This meant nothing to her. Kevin would probably know who that was.

Criminal Minds
ended and Raff started clicking through channels until he found
The Daily Show with Jon Stewart
.

“You like Jon Stewart?” she asked.

“Yeah. He’s good.”

She agreed. Smart. Funny. Acerbic. She shot Raff another musing glance.

After the show ended, Raff turned to her. “Guess I better get home,” he said.

She felt a pang of disappointment. “Okay.”

He lifted her legs so they were across his lap, then dipped his head to kiss her. She slid her arms around his neck and kissed him back. His tongue slid into her mouth and a moan climbed up her throat as her fingers played with his hair at the back of his head. The kiss deepened, got hotter, wetter. Lust curled in her belly and her skin heated everywhere.

His hands caressed her hips and back. Warm desire pooled between her legs and she felt him getting hard. But then he ended the kiss. He dropped three slow, soft smooches on her lips, lifted her off him and helped her stand. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Mmkay.” She was too hazy to argue.

He strode to the closet where she’d hung his jacket and retrieved it. She tripped along behind him, blinking and touching her lips.

With jacket and gloves on, a striped scarf looped around his neck, he paused at the door, touched her face with leather-clad fingertips and gave her one more kiss. “G’night, Paige,” he whispered. “Lock the door behind me, yeah?”

“Why are you so obsessed with me always locking the door?”

He smiled. “Just want you safe.” She rolled her eyes, which made his smile widen. “Night, babe.”

She felt unaccountably disappointed that he’d actually left. His presence was so solid and uplifting. And she’d gotten all turned on in their little make-out session. Hadn’t he? How could he just leave?

Judas Priest, the man confused her.

She did hear from Raff the next day, a phone call mid-afternoon, mostly to tell her his day had been crazy and he had a business dinner that night but he’d call her again after. She was going out for dinner with the girls—Emma, Sasha and Mallory—who were all eager to hear about her amazing weekend.

They met at Bonfire Bistro in the Loop, a casual French place she’d never been to. They sat on cane chairs at a white-clothed round table. Framed prints of Toulouse-Lautrec posters hung on the golden-yellow walls and several carved, colorfully painted roosters sat on the bar and on shelves.

“It’s nice because they have these smaller plates on the menu,” Mallory said. “The first time I came here I ordered a big meal and couldn’t even eat half of it.”

“That’s more American than French,” Sasha commented, looking at the menu.

“Should we get a bottle of wine?” Emma asked.

“Good idea.”

They selected a Merlot, ordered their dinners and then the interrogation commenced.

“Okay, Paige, spill it. All of it. Every last, amazing detail.”

She looked at their smiling, expectant faces. “I don’t even know where to start,” she said. “Last time we talked, I wasn’t even sure I was going to go out with him. Then I realized I was making it into a bigger deal than it had to be. It was just a date, right?”

“
Just
a date! He flew you to San Diego for the weekend!”

Paige grinned. “I flipped shit when he told me we were on our way to the airport instead of some restaurant for dinner.”

“No doubt!”

She recounted the events of the weekend, frequently interrupted by questions and then by the arrival of their meals. When they’d all been served and the waiter had departed, Emma said, “Get to the good stuff already! Did you sleep with him?”

Paige hesitated, dropping her eyes briefly. “Yeah.”

They all sucked in big gasps.

“On the first date?” Mallory asked with big eyes and exaggerated shock. Everyone laughed, including Paige.

“So what does this mean?” Emma asked. “Are you seeing him again? You said he asked for one date.”

“He is the most aggravating man,” Paige said. “That was what he said, yes, but apparently he had no intention of it being only one date. Only…he hasn’t actually asked me out again.”

Disappointment showed on all three faces. “Really?” Emma said.

“Yesterday he just showed up. At lunchtime. With food for me and Trenise. He ate lunch with us. Then he showed up again at the end of the day to drive me home. We ended up ordering pizza. I don’t even know how it happened.”

Now they all smiled. “Okay then,” Mallory said, picking up her wineglass. “I
have
to meet this guy now.”

“Oh man!” Sasha cried, leaning forward. “I totally forgot. Jack told me last night that he called him!”

“Who? What?” Paige looked at her with a frown.

“Raff Lauden called Jack yesterday. They’re having lunch tomorrow.”

Paige’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“What is he
doing
?” Paige demanded. “For the love of God! He’s relentless.”

Sasha laughed. “It could be business.”

“Sure,” she muttered. She looked down at her meal, Moroccan-spiced vegetable & chickpea stew served over couscous. “Business.”

“Seriously, now I really
have
to meet him,” Mallory said. “I have to check this guy out and make sure he’s okay.”

Paige shook her head at her.

“Did Kevin meet him?” Sasha asked.

“Yeah. When he picked me up on Friday night.”

“What did he think?”

“I don’t know,” Paige admitted. “I haven’t talked to him since. I got home late Sunday night and Kevin was out last night.”