Page 3 of The Rich One

“It’s what you wear, and that’s all I need to know.” As he lowers his face to mine, our gazes lock, and my fucking cellphone rings, cutting through the building tension. At first Kai doesn’t move. He smirks and flashes those goddamn dimples at me again before moving to stand beside me and giving me space to answer my phone.

“Hello?”

Nothing.

Silence.

I look at the screen and realize it’s another unknown number, just like last night. This isn’t the first time and it probably won’t be the last. I had been warned that in my profession, strange phone calls come with the territory, but these last few days it’s ramped up and is seriously pissing me off.

“Hello?”

And then it starts. The heavy breathing, as if someone is jacking himself off, lasting mere seconds before there’s a blood-curdling scream.

CHAPTERTWO

“What the fuck was that, River?” I blink as Kai’s voice pierces through the fog of my thoughts.

Great fucking question.

The first thought that crosses my mind is that my work phone is compromised. Prank calls are expected, but this feels different. Ice shot up my spine as that scream pierced through the line.

Or maybe one of my clients has gone fucking insane?

Either way, something is definitely wrong. Problem is, Icannottalk to Kai about it or else he’ll have a complete meltdown. Fuck, I wish our circumstances were different.

We aren’t a couple, but the bond between us has always been strong, the chemistry pulling us together every time we’re in the same vicinity. It’s been a problem for us in the past; girlfriends jealous of me, boyfriends going crazy over my friendship with him. We’ve always laughed about it, but the truth of the matter is that any chance we get, we end up fucking like teenagers in places no one should be fucking.

If my brother knew how many times I’ve ridden our best friend, he’d probably have a stroke. I mean, he’s all about free love and all that shit but when it comes to his big sister, Everest is akin to a papa bear.

“Wrong number.” I turn to him, and if I weren’t so used to it, I’d wither under his piercing gaze. In any circumstance, Kai Briggs is intense. Hair the color of coal, sun-kissed skin from years working construction, and his eyes—my dear heart, his eyes—are his most addicting feature. Sweet honey when he’s feeling playful, but when he’s pissed they turn to a rich, aged whiskey that burns right through you.

Right now, he’s scorching.

“There was a scream, River.” Cocking a brow like he knows I’m lying, he leans in even closer and the scent of him makes me wet in an instant. Sandalwood and sweat with a hint of whiskey.

His closeness is so overwhelming that I almost forget the weird phone call. I ignore the bells and alarms in my brain telling me to move away, reminding me that Kai and I…? We’re not destined to be together, despite what our six-year-old selves promised. He’s the boy next door looking for marriage and two-point-three kids, living a quiet life out in Staten Island. PTA meetings and Saturday practice for the lucky soccer moms who can ogle him in all his fatherly glory.

I’m an escort. A prostitute. A fucking whore. Our ship sailed the day he broke my heart and didn’t even realize it.

“Then it was a prank. You were here, Kai. You know just as much about it as I do.” I take shallow breaths to avoid inhaling him fully.

I once read that sandalwood is a powerful aphrodisiac, and even used for self-arousal. I love that. The idea that we can be turned on by our own scent. The problem is that being around Kai intoxicates me no matter what scent is wafting from him. I don’t even mind the weed. His entire presence elicits a desire in me that always has me wanting to fuck him for hours.

I startle at the gentle touch of his finger against my temple as he guides an errant strand of hair behind my ear.

“I miss you.” His words are like a blanket over my senses—muting my self-control—and I have no idea where I get the strength to resist him.

“Don’t. We’re not good for each other, Kai. You know this.” Swatting his hand away, I clear my throat, shove against his rock-hard chest, and slide down from the counter. I need to be standing in order to keep my wits about me.

“The hell we’re not. I’m Eros and you’re Psyche. We’re fucking destined.” I allow my gaze a few seconds to run over his sharp features. His strong, Roman nose, the slash of dominant brows, and his eyes that have turned the color of temptation.

Because I’m me and he’s him, I lean in—one hand at the back of his head—and kiss him with every desire I’ve ever had. Our lips crash together like they always do, our tongues dancing in muscle memory. Around the kitchen, our light moans bounce off the walls before I retreat just enough to whisper against his mouth. “There’s no such thing as destiny.” Taking in a fortifying breath, I fix him with my green gaze, presenting him with my “Rose” mask; the face I give my clients to avoid any attachments. The hard exterior he doesn’t deserve.

I don’t take two steps away before one of Kai’s arms is around my waist and pulling me back against the wall of his work-honed chest. “Liar.” He drops a soft kiss against the column of my neck, and I feel the tip of his tongue against his favorite beauty mark before he lets me go.

Just when I think I’m going to give in to him—again—my brother walks back in and makes the decision for me.

“Dude, I’m starving.” We both startle, and by the confusion written all over Everest’s face, there’s no doubt we look guilty.

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