Page 4 of The Last Call
“Don’t deny me Sydney.”
My body betrays me. Clenching between my thighs from his menacing tone. A deep ache pooling low in my belly and tingling in my nipples from hearing my name on his lips. That he shouldn’t know. Proof he’s even more powerful than I suspected to have already learned who I am in just a few short minutes.
“I always get what I want.”
Luscious scents of black pepper and rich leather waft over me when he speaks directly into my ear. The scruff of his late day shadow tickles my already sensitized skin. His sultry tone makes me want more than just his voice surrounding me.
“Is everything okay over here?”
Julius leans back, giving me a traitorous wink, as Arthur’s hand slides onto my lower back. Cold, thin fingers thrusting into my skin with his apprehension. Before I can answer, Julius extends his hand to Arthur. Forcing him to release me lest he be rude.
“Of course. I’m Julius, an old friend of Syd’s.” Another grin lifts his cheek. “Surprised even more than she is to run into her again after all this time.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Anxiety swallows Arthur’s protective tone. Worried as I am Julius will reveal our secret.
“You as well.” Julius’ eyes remain locked with mine. An underlying warning for me to comply with his earlier request. “I’ll catch up with you later. After you enjoy your party.”
Fury burns through me from his threat. Well aware how helpless I am to argue against his intimidation and jeopardize Arthur’s celebration. With no other choice, I acquiesce to the implication and force myself to smile. “Yes, I look forward to our discussion too.”
When I tell you to go to hell. The smirk slides off his face when I tuck myself against Arthur. Snuggling into his side with the familiarity of a couple in love. Reminding him he doesn’t control me. No one controls me.
Anger flashes in his face more dazzling than lightning, and I can’t hold back the shiver that engulfs me. Not sure from fear or lust. Probably both. Insanity too. I shouldn’t give a damn about irritating a man I just met. But I do. And I like the rush of power I have over him despite how much he wields over me. And I want more. So much more than I should.
Mired in ambiguity, we remain silent watching Julius as he walks away. A stride ? almost a swagger ? that exudes confidence and charisma few other men can convey. Well aware of our scrutiny, he never glances back before he marches through the swinging door. Too slick to even have to push the handle as the server on the other side is quick to grab the edge and nod in deference to his boss. Must be a real asshole for everyone to be so subservient to him.
Once he’s gone, Arthur’s body sags with relief while mine pulses with dread. And disappointment, if I’m honest with myself. Although I’m not sure exactly why. Uncertain for the first time in a long time of what I want. Which scares the hell out of me. I know. I always know. I’ve always known. Myself. My goals. My plan. None of which includes someone like him.
“Are you cold?”
The concern in Arthur’s tone shames me for the second time tonight. Not waiting for me to respond, he turns us, escorting me back to the table with a tight grip around my waist. Which is good because my legs can’t seem to stop wobbling. Shrugging off his jacket when I’m seated again, he wraps the scratchy fabric around my shoulders. Despite the added layer, my muscles tremble from what almost happened. From what is going to happen later. Because even though I don’t know him at all, I know men like Julius. He won’t let this go. He won’t give up. He won’t give in. No matter how much I fight or protest or argue.
“Cabernet ma’am?”
My head bobs more enthusiastically than it should from the waiter’s question. “Yes, please.”
Alcohol never solves anything, but I sure as hell need something stronger than sparkling water to soothe my shaking hands and calm my pounding heart.
I murmur my gratitude to the server and greedily sip the rich liquid. Downing almost half the glass before I remember myself. Realize that I’m Arthur’s doting girlfriend rather than a lush who cares more about the free booze than him and his success.
Wrapping my hand around his bicep, I give his arm a gentle squeeze and look up to him. Smiling my appreciation and pride to him. Which rewards both of us when some of the tension releases from the taut lines of his pale face. “Thank you. I’m much warmer now.”
“From the wine or my blazer?”
A relieved laugh bubbles in my throat and softens my shoulders. Both from the proof that the trepidation Julius generated has waned, as well as from Arthur’s relentless curiosity. Inquisitive enough to want to know the difference and ask me. The clinician within his personality shining through despite us sitting at a dinner table rather than a lab bench. “Both.”
He nods slowly. Probably performing calculations in his head analyzing my weight and the heaviness of the coat and the alcohol volume of my drink. Forever a math nerd in his sweet, gentle heart. I release him as he stands for his boss and her husband. Warm smiles from each of them as Arthur reminds them again of my name since I haven’t seen them since the Christmas party. Granted I’m sure neither one has forgotten. Both of them cordial and welcoming every time I see them regardless of how infrequent.
Although, unfortunately, I can’t say the same for the other couple joining us. Intolerant of each other and everyone else, they revel in the discomfort of their colleagues. Especially when they’re the ones to inflict the anxiety.
“Jim, Annette, you remember Sydney.”
I earn only a terse nod from Jim before the stout man plops into his seat, seemingly relieved to be sitting down after crossing the expansive hall to reach us. Not surprisingly, Annette’s demeanor isn’t as indifferent. “You weren’t at the spring gala. I thought maybe you decided our Arthur was too boring for you.”
The mischievous tone belies the insinuation underneath, and her antagonism stirs my protective streak. Not because Arthur’s paying me. But because he deserves to have someone defend him, despite his mild disposition, since I know he would never assert himself. “You must not know him very well if you think Arthur could ever be boring.”
Feigning a teasing chuckle, I wink at her. Rosy circles pop on Arthur’s narrow cheeks from my proclamation, and I can’t help but genuinely smile at this docile man. Wishing deep that he realizes how sincere and genuine I am in my feelings for him.
