Vanilla On Top (15 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Tony

“You’ve been a fucking bear all day,” Marcus grumps at me. “What’s your problem?”

I ignore my well-meaning but obnoxious friend. I can’t very well tell him that even though I made love to Heather this morning, I’m in a foul mood because I can’t see her again until tomorrow. At least she agreed not to work on Saturday and come to Jersey with me. I’ll have to be content with that.

Unwilling to give up, Marcus plunges on. “Are you pissed about Brian and the Parkerson deal still?”

“Still?” I say, incredulous. “I was only reassigned yesterday. Am I supposed to roll over and take it?”

Marcus grins, pleased to get a rise out of me. “No, only a whiny bitch rolls over and takes it.”

“Well, then. We’ve established I’m not a whiny bitch. Anything else or can I get a drink in peace?”

We worked ‘til seven tonight and then caught a quick dinner at a sushi place. The food was great but the atmosphere wasn’t conducive to hanging out and drinking all night, which is what I feel like doing. Maybe I can drown out the feeling of unease coiling in my gut. If this is what being in love feels like I think I definitely
dis
like it.

“Let’s head over to The Parlor,” Marcus suggests. “It’s only two blocks down. I heard there’s a special event later on. We’ve got almost two hours before the DJ comes on and the place turns into a club.”

My silence is my agreement and we make our way to the bar. I don’t think I’ve been this depressed on a Friday night in years. What is it that’s truly eating at me? I know it can’t be work. I’ve dedicated so much of my life to the place that this latest knife in the back barely hurts.

We sit on stools at the bar and order drinks. The place looks hip and trendy. Not the kind of place I want to be caught in when the music kicks in. Too many gold-digging bitches looking for a free ride.

The vehemence in my thoughts surprises me. Now, where the hell did that come from? I never used to blink at the idea of picking up an attractive young woman who liked money. Is it because Heather is seemingly uninterested in my substantial portfolio? Or is it because she’s the first woman I’ve dated who lives within her means and supports herself?

I shake my head as I stare into my beer. There’s something to be said about dating a woman who doesn’t need you to bail her out of her life, but
wants
you in her life nonetheless.

Damn, I
’
ve got it bad. When the hell did this sneak up on me?

She had you when she told you to get on your knees.

A snort escapes me before I tamp it down. Yup, that sounds about right.

Many drinks later the music kicks in. Marcus and I have chatted about work and sports for the last two hours, so I don’t mind the change to loud music and a driving beat. Makes it easier to dodge his persistent questions about Heather. How can I answer him when I don’t know what’s going on myself?

The bar slowly fills. Once the lights dim and a fire siren sounds, apparently announcing the star DJ, I stand and signal to pay our tab.

“Dude, you want to leave now? Things are just starting to heat up.”

A glance at my watch reveals it’s past ten thirty.

“Yup, it’s been a long week. I’m heading out.”

Wherever Heather went, she probably won’t be home for several hours. Would it be lame if I sat in her lobby and read ‘til she got home?
Yes, it would look pathetic.

The smell of her skin is enough to drive me wild. I’d wait all night to wrap myself around her and hold her close.

“Hey,” Marcus says, breaking into my pussy-whipped musings. “Isn’t that Heather out there on the dance floor?”

My head darts around and I strain my eyes through the strobe-light punctuated dimness. Damn, I can hardly see a thing. I swear it was brighter just ten minutes ago. “Where?”

“Isn’t that her in the black pants dancing with the guy in the blue shirt?”

I step past Marcus, closer to the dance floor for a better view. Sure enough, there’s my Heather, dancing with a seductive hip-gyrating move against some guy.

My blood boils as the man rests a hand on her slim, leather clad hip. Leather? Since when does Heather wear leather?

“Damn, she’s looking hot. Did you know she was going to be here tonight?”

I shoot a murderous look at my co-worker. “No, jackass. If I did I wouldn’t have been sitting here with you this whole time.”

Marcus drapes a hand over his wounded heart. “Thanks, asshole. Nice to know where I stand with you.”

I smirk his way and flash him the bird. “She’s a gorgeous woman. You’re a guy. Do the math.”

Marcus nudges me as her dancing partner rests a second hand on her hips, slowly drawing her closer to the front of his pants. “Think you might want to cut in before he’s buying her breakfast.”

Unwilling to respond and show my intense anger over a man touching her, I keep my mouth shut and move toward the dance floor.

Heather disengages the man’s hands from her hips and steps back on her own. Good girl. I won
’
t have to castrate him. She smiles the beguiling half- smile that I love and wags a finger at him in admonishment. Her dance partner raises his hands in mock surrender and smiles back at her, as if to show he’s harmless.

Harmless
,
my ass. I know his kind. Hell, I started out being his kind over six years ago. Dancing my way between the legs of any able bodied woman who’d have me.

Heather turns back to her friends and the man moves on to another woman, appearing to give my girlfriend space for the moment.

Girlfriend
? Do I even have the right to call her that? In my mind she’s so much more. In my heart she’s what I’ve been looking for…but in my head I’m painfully aware we haven’t been together all that long. Technically, she could hook up with someone and I’d have no reason to get mad.

No reason? How about the fact you’re sleeping with her? Isn’t that reason enough?

Determined to shut up the slightly-buzzed troublemaker in my head, I step onto the dance floor, eyeing my prey. I weave carefully through the gyrating bodies, ignoring the grasping hands of scantily clad women as I move toward Heather. Finally, I’m standing behind her, staring in disbelief at the sight of her tight little ass encased in leather.

Holy shit, she
’
s fucking hot. I think I see leather straps crisscrossing her bare skin below the hem of her short jacket. Her friend, Carla, catches sight of me first. Her eyes pop wide and I put a finger over my lips in the hopes of quieting her. She nods, a devilish grin spreading across her face before she turns away.

I step close and fit myself along Heather’s firm backside, snuggling her pert ass against the front of my pants. She’s wearing the red heels I bought her and it lines up her bottom with my cock perfectly. She stiffens and steps a few inches away. I slide one hand over her hip and dip two fingers into the front pocket of her leather pants.

“What the…?” she trails off when she looks back and sees it’s me behind her.

“Hello, beautiful. Fancy meeting you here.”

“Tony!” She pulls away my hand and turns to face me, a smile on her upturned mouth. “What are you doing here?”

I gesture to my suit. “Worked late, had dinner out, then drinks here—Marcus said there was some special DJ event going on.” I look around the packed dance floor. “Guess this is it.”

She snuggles close, wraps her arms around my neck and leans in to speak in my ear. “I’m here with friends. It’s supposed to be a ‘no guys’ night.”

I snort and run my hands down to cup her ass and pull her toward my stiffening cock. “Yeah, and that guy I saw you dancing with doesn’t count?”

Heat burns in her eyes when she feels my growing erection. “Are you jealous, Tony?”

In all fairness, she did rebuff the guy on her own, and I have no reason to be jealous. But I am. I have to fight the overwhelming desire to haul him outside and pound his face into the brick. “Maybe a little,” I admit.

She circles her hips to the current blasting song, driving all pretense of dancing right out of my head. The tightness in my groin feels exquisite. If I could claim her here in front of all these people, I would. Instead, I lean in and nibble on her ear. “What you do to me, woman. You’re driving me crazy. You know that don’t you?”

A surprised expression crosses her features. “No more than you do to me, mister,” she hides her reaction with a confident smirk, but I saw it nonetheless.

In a sudden flash of clarity, I realize she needs this. For whatever reason, this glorious woman needs this night out to feel good about herself and to feel desired. The world may not see the confidant woman I experience in private, but she’s in there. Fighting her personal demons to emerge whole.

“It’s hot in here,” I say in a flash of inspiration, reaching for the lapels of her tiny black jacket, determined to let this glorious bird fly. “Let me hold this for you.”

“No, I…,” she trails off as I slip the coat from her shoulders, revealing her pale skin. Once the black fabric skims down her arms, the full beauty of her sexy top comes into view.

“You look stunning.” I let desire shine in my eyes.

The cockiness I’ve grown to love sparks to life and she steps back, thrusting one hip. “Wait ‘til you see the back.” She executes a one-eighty, pulling her black tousled curls over one shoulder to give me the full effect. Wide bands of leather cinch her waist and draw my eye to the big bow in the middle of her back.

My fingers itch to run over her curves and grasp her hips tightly. A muscle jumps in my cheek and I feel an answering pull in my aching cock.

In a flash, she turns again, tossing her hair back to cascade down her spine. “Close your mouth, Tony. You might catch flies.”

I shut my mouth, damned if she wasn’t right. I was gapping like a slack-jawed local. Passion burns in my gut like a low-fuse bomb. My hand reaches out to grab her, the dancers around us and the pounding music fading into oblivion. Nothing matters but drawing her to me and locking my lips over hers.

She squeaks in delight at whatever she sees on my face, and after a teasing moment succumbs to desire and folds into my embrace. I grind my mouth down on hers, uncaring if I’m creating a scene in the middle of the dance floor. This woman is mine and I want the world to know it.

She pulls back, breaking off our kiss before I can deepen it further. She bites her lower lip, a war of emotions playing across her features. “Can you wait ‘til later? I don’t want to blow off my friends.”

A primal urge inside me wants to scream, but the rational part of my brain still functions. The buzz of alcohol sings through my body and an hour of letting it calm down might be for the best. I clench my jaw tightly and nod, fighting the instinctual urge to drag her out of this meat market by her arm.

“I’ll grab a table over there.” I nod my head to indicate a vacant table within view of the dance floor.

She smiles, a shy, beautiful little grin, as if she’s pleased I plan on sticking around. As I make my way off the floor, I spot Mr. Grabby Hands. He noticed our interaction and glares at me. He breaks his gaze first and scans the crowd for new prey.

Message received. He should leave Heather alone the rest of the night.

I signal for a waitress and order water. She nods and scurries off. The location I picked offers a terrific view of Heather and her friends, allowing me to spot any troublemakers before they approach. Apparently the glower I have on my face is enough to do the trick because the women are left to dance in peace for quite a while.

Eventually Marcus makes his way to me. Rat bastard. I’d hoped he left. He silently saddles up to my left and checks out the dancers on the packed floor.

My water arrives and the waitress perks up when I hand her a ten-dollar tip for the free water.

“Can I get you anything, sir?” she asks Marcus.

“Jack on the rocks.”

I raise an eyebrow at his choice of drink. The waitress leaves. “Going for the hard stuff?”

“I’m trying to shock my system into figuring out what the fuck is going on.”

I stiffen, not sure I want this conversation to continue. I don’t respond, hoping he’ll let my actions on the dance floor lie.

“You really like this one, don’t you?”

Dammit. I knew the arrogant prick couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

Tension tightens my jaw and I bite out my next words. “What of it?”

“If you hadn’t been removed from the buyout I’d have recommended you recuse yourself. If you’re seriously involved with her, it’s a major conflict of interest.”

I should have known. Always comes back to the almighty dollar with him, no matter how you cut it.

A new man approaches Heather. Smooth Latin looks and gyrating hips that make him look like he’s a professional dancer. My stomach clenches and I take a gulp of water to calm it.

Bad idea. I feel like yakking it back up. I set the glass aside.

Marcus waves a hand in front of my face, temporarily breaking the death ray I was shooting at the Latin guy.

I look at my colleague, annoyance coloring my face. “There’s more to life than work, man. Leave me alone.”

The Latin guy gravitates between Heather and Katrina and tension eases out of my gut.

“Holy shit! Do you hear yourself? You’re ready to mess up the career you’ve built over a piece of ass?”

Red clouds my vision and my fists clench at my sides. “One deal is not my whole career, and Heather is
not
a piece of ass. You call her that again and I’ll put my fist through your pretty dental work.”

“Look at yourself! You’re ready to rip apart any man who approaches her. She’s dancing in a nightclub, for Christ’s sake. Men are going to want to dance with her.”

Logically, I know he’s right. And I thought I had it covered, but when Heather breaks from her friends and weaves through the crowd, away from me, panic forms in my chest. By the looks of it, she’s heading to the bathroom, but the number of male heads that turn to watch her progression has me fearing for her safety.

Without a word to Marcus, I leave, angling around the dance floor to intercept her. My progress is hindered by a large group clustered around a table, forcing me to detour deeper into the bar to make my way around. By the time I get to the hallway leading to the restrooms, she’s gone.