Playing Pretend by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

Thirteen

Liam

Havingthis girl around is turning me into a crazy person.

I pour myself another drink in the hopes of calming myself down. But apparently, Eliza Jenkins’s secret talent is getting me all worked up without even trying.

Our conversation tonight accomplished nothing. Well aside from leaving me with yet another dire case of blue balls. Now, she’s really mad at me and I’ve got a snowball’s chance in hell of getting her to come back to work at Kline-Simmons.

I’ve really fucked this up.

Rain pounds the penthouse suite’s large windows. I try my best to push her out of my mind instead of worrying about whether she made it home before the downpour. The woman is not my problem. I’ve got a full plate as it is. Enough with the distractions.

But when I sit at the conference table and try to get some work done, I realize that my fingers are still sticky from when they were inside her and she was squirting all over my hand. Just thinking about it is making me hard all over again.

This is sick.

I strip out of my barbecue sauce-stained clothing and jump into the shower.

Her sweet voice replays in my head again and again. I wanted to see your company succeed. I wanted to see yousucceed.

I don’t know why, but hearing the woman say that shook something awake deep inside me. Something possessive. Something completely irrational that made me want to claim her, at least for a moment.

Despite my best efforts to control myself, I end up jerking off under the stream as I think about the way Eliza felt pressed up against that red brick wall, the way those strawberry lips tasted.

How far would we have taken it if that security guard hadn’t showed up? Imagining the possibilities drives me to a bone-shaking orgasm.

By the time I’m clean and dressed in a plain white T-shirt and sweatpants, the paperwork on the conference table holds zero appeal so I pace the floor from wall-to-wall, my mind and body at war.

My brain says that I need to work on convincing Eliza to come back to work for me. Meanwhile, my body wants to get the woman pressed up against the nearest flat surface to finish what we started.

The sound of the hotel’s land line ringing jolts me out of my dirty fantasy. I stalk over to the table where it’s sitting and check the caller ID. Why the hell is the reception desk calling me so damn late at night?

I answer with a huff. “What is it?”

“Sir, there’s a Ms. Jenkins—Eliza Jenkins—here at the front desk to see you.”

Eliza…? What is she doing here…?

An hour ago, I watched her ambling out of the alley. Every bone in my body was yelling at me to follow her home and make sure she got there safely.

But I resisted that urge. She’s a grown woman. And I’m a man with a reputation. I’ve already been giving off heavy stalker vibes. The last thing I need is getting my name put in the unofficial Sin Valley Creeper Registry because I decided to go all stalkerific on a former employee.

Anyway, why is she back here now?

I momentarily consider having the receptionist send her up. But I can’t do that. I don’t think I can be trusted alone with Eliza in my room in the middle of the night.

“I’ll be right down,” I say into the receiver.

When I step into the lobby, I spot Eliza by the front desk. She’s drenched and shivering slightly, those pillowy lips still swollen from our session in the alley.

Her eyes scan me, heating with appreciation and I know she’s replaying the memories too.

She jerks her head then hustles toward me. “Have you…have you seen my keys?” she asks in a rush.

I blink. “What?”

“I got home and I realized I didn’t have my keys,” she starts rambling. “I figured they’d dropped from my purse in the alley. I keep them in the outer pocket and sometimes things drop out. So I came back into town to retrace my steps but I didn’t find them. That’s why I’m here, in case you’d picked them up by chance or—”

“You’ve been out here roaming the alley searching for your keys?! In the rain, at this hour?”

“Well, yeah. I need to get into my apartment.”

“You live alone?”

“My landlord lives upstairs. But he’s this sweet old man. He and his girlfriend go to sleep super early. I didn’t want to wake them at this time of night. And they probably wouldn’t hear me banging down the door anyway since they take out their hearing aids when they…” Her words trail off. She cringes, seemingly imagining something unpleasant. She shakes the thoughts away. “Anyway, thanks for seeing me. I guess I’ll go back to searching for my keys.” Shoulders drooping, she turns to leave.

I grab her wrist. “The hell you will,” I roar out, startling Eliza and drawing attention from the receptionist. I take a protective step toward her. “I won’t have you combing the streets searching for a needle in a haystack tonight. Especially in this weather. Consider the keys gone.”

“So what am I supposed to do?!” she asks, her chest puffing up like a challenged little bird.

“You’ll stay with me.” My words come out with zero hesitation. Not a suggestion. Not an invitation. An order.

Eliza looks surprised. Hell—I’m surprised, too.

“What? No way! I’m not staying with you.”

“Have you got any other options for tonight?” I challenge back.

She’s new in Sin Valley. I’ve never seen her socializing with any of the girls from the office. I doubt she knows anyone else around town. Secretly, I’m hoping she doesn’t.

When she remains silent, brow creased, lip caught between her teeth, I know that I’m right.

I take a step toward her. “Again—you’re staying with me, Eliza.”

Her chocolate eyes scan my face, full of apprehension and mistrust. But her alternatives are nil. She has nowhere else to go.

As she accepts her reality, her glare softens into something vulnerable, exposed. “Fine.” She swallows. “Thank you.”

Holding back a victorious smirk, I lead her to the elevator and we ride up to the penthouse in silence. The scent of strawberries and mild perspiration fills the small space and I focus all my attention on not caging her against the mirrored wall and licking the sweetness off of her skin with my tongue. Plus, this mega-erection of mine is messing with my relationship to gravity. I feel like it’s going to topple me over.

I’m playing with fire here.

I do my best to ignore it. I try telling myself that this is the responsible thing to do. She’s locked out of her house tonight and that’s my fault. On multiple levels. I can’t just leave her on the street.

An annoying voice in my head prods me to examine my real motives. I own this entire hotel. I could easily book her a separate room at no charge. But I push that thought aside. Instead, I try convincing myself that I can control my urges, I can have her in my room without being inappropriate.

Why I’d test my limits like that, I don’t even understand. All I know is I want her in my space. And it’s not a sexual thing. Not entirely, anyway. I just…like her around.

When we get off the elevator, I swipe the lock with my key card and let her inside my suite. She and I stand awkwardly in the foyer, staring at each other. There’s an erotic crackle in the silent air.

I’m seriously considering just saying, Fuck it, and going in for the kiss.

But then her stomach grumbles like thunder. Loud.

Then again. Louder.

Then again.

You get the picture.

Jesus Christ. This woman is literally starving to death because of me. I’m such an asshole.

She peeks at me, face red, eyes wide with mortification. “Sorry,” she titters embarrassedly, dropping her gaze to the carpeted floor. “That happens when I’m nervous.”

I chuckle, too. “Don’t worry about it.”

This girl is so fucking adorable.

“Do you mind if I take a shower?” She pinches at her damp, wrinkled blouse. “It’s been a long day and…”

“Bathroom’s right through there.” I motion toward a half-open door across the room.

“Thanks.” She gives me a modest smile then starts to walk away. She pauses with a peek over her shoulder. “Again—thank you for letting me stay here. Especially…especially after the things I said earlier.”

I feel a smile curl the corners of my mouth. “I’m glad you came to me, Eliza.” And I mean it.