Page 13 of Somebody to Save
“Oh, it’s my favorite girl,” he said. “How are you doing? I saw Gloria is out, so I’m guessing you’re busy.”
He was in his late seventies but had the energy of a twenty-year-old. He pushed his thick round glasses up his nose and ran a hand over his thick, gray hair.
“Very busy,” I said. Beckett stepped forward and held the elevator open while we spoke. “I’ll try to come by and visit later, Mr. Rogers. Otherwise, I’ll see you at bingo on Friday.”
“You bet,” she said. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
He waved as I stepped on the elevator with Beckett beside me, and I noted his long look in Beckett’s direction. The doors closed, and Mr. Rogers was still staring daggers through him.
Alone once again, Beckett turned to face me. I saw in my periphery when he opened his mouth, but I held up my finger. I would not be caught getting out of the elevator with him by another resident, because I knew the moment he opened his mouth again, my reaction would be no different and completely recognizable to anyone else.
I was already struggling to maintain my composure with the heady scent of his cologne and presence surrounding me in the confined space.
By some miracle, Beckett heeded my request. It also wasn’t a long ride, which worked in my favor.
The doors opened, and I hurried out like my ass was on fire. We crossed through the lobby, and I turned into my office, struggling to think of a way out of my current predicament. I stopped in front of my desk and took a breath as I heard him enter behind me. A second later, the door shut, and I swore the sound echoed through the silent room.
SEVEN
WE’RE NOT FRIENDS
Addison
For several seconds,nothing happened, and had I not been able tofeelhim behind me, I would have assumed he’d left. His shoes were almost silent against the carpet beneath our feet, but if I listened carefully, I could hear the faintest brush.
I counted each step and reminded myself of the reasons why I’d run out of our room at Abditory in the first place: our age difference, my recent breakup, my chaotic family life, my lack of free time.
The one reason I’d wished I would forget, though, was the one that kept wiggling its way to the front of my mind: how he’d made me feel like I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever had the pleasure of touching and made me fall apart over and over again. How I worried that nothing would ever live up to that one night with a man who didn’t even know my name.
Memories flashed behind my closed eyes as I counted his fourth step and felt the heat of his body at my back. His fingers grazed the vascular birthmark on the side of my neck as he brushed my hair over my shoulder. Not only had I dyed it pink, but I’d cut it, too. The classic breakup cut that I wasn’t immuneto. Although I didn’t regret it at all. Pretty sure cotton candy pink hair was my final form.
But my short hair didn’t stay over my shoulder very well. It fell back almost immediately, so he tucked it behind my ear instead. The second brush of his fingers against my bare skin was enough to make a shiver whip down my spine. One that I couldn’t suppress or contain.
“I’ve been looking for you every day for weeks,” he said next to my ear. His breath was hot, his voice low, and I squeezed my eyes shut against every sensation he elicited with just a few words and the softest touch. “I can’t think about anything but you, Bubbles. You’ve consumed every single one of my thoughts since you left me in that room.”
My breath caught in my throat, and I fought the urge to rub my thighs together.
“Now, please, baby girl. Tell me your name.”
I choked out a surprised laugh, and my eyes popped open. I didn’t turn, but I did peer slightly over my left shoulder. I caught a glimpse of his stubble-covered chin and full lower lip.
Peering down at my shirt, I realized my name tag that was usually clipped on the left side of my shirt was missing. That was going to be fun to find later.
“What does it matter now?”
He laughed, and I straightened, disapproving of my body’s reaction to the husky sound.
“It matters for several reasons,” he began, running his fingertips gingerly down my arm. So slowly, in fact, I knew he wouldn’t miss the goose bumps that appeared in his wake. “It matters because I’ve already been inside you. It matters because I remember the way your pretty little cunt mercilessly squeezed my cock as you begged me to let you come. It matters because every time I’ve jacked off to the memory of you moaning‘Daddy,’I wonder if I’ll only ever know you as Bubbles. It matters because one night with youruined me.”
I sucked in a shaky breath, and those memories from before were so much more poignant with his dirty words to remind me.
He gripped my left hand and wrapped his right around my hip, stepping forward until there was no space left between us. Until I could feel the thick outline of his cock against my lower back.
He felt better than I remembered, and when he dropped his lips to my exposed neck, I finally gave him what he wanted.
“Addison,” I whispered, and the pattern he’d been drawing with his thumb on the back of my hand stopped. His mouth hovered above my skin, and I thought about how good it would feel to tip my head back against his chest.
I didn’t mean to actually do it, but one second the thought crossed my mind, and in the next my head fell against him. He exhaled softly as I added, “But my friends call me Addie.”
