Now Or Never by Stella Rhys

7

HOLLAND

I went with the plan—but for three reasons only.

Bed. Futon. Job. That was it.

That is all you want or need to talk about tonight, and once that’s done, so are you, I reminded myself.

Still, my decision didn’t feel real. Nothing was sinking in, even as Mia zipped me into her dress and helped with my makeup. Even as we rode uptown inthe Lyft, eventually pulling up along the water to an absolutely massive venue with humongous arched windows on each side of the building, and purple spotlights beaming up the limestone walls.

There were flashing cameras, a red carpet going up the grand steps and not one, but two lines of beautiful people snaked around the building that I couldn’t even see the ends of.

It was beyond intimidating, and easily the fanciest thing I’d ever been anywhere near. But before I could even groan or doubt our ability to get in, Mia grabbed my hand, marching us to the front of the line and cranking up her bartender charm to about a thousand-and-one. And before I knew it, we had gotten past the wall of suited bouncers—as Adam Maxwell and Adrienne Tan.

“Wait… did that really just work?” I burst out laughing, gasping for air as a gleeful Mia pulled me hastily into the building, our twin ponytails swinging in the air as our heels clacked away on stone.

“Yes, but only because he knew I was lying!” she hissed, giggling nervously and forcing us to run as if the bouncer might change his mind any second.

She only let us stop only once we’d gotten far enough inside, and though we’d been yelling back and forth just a second before—her about how I needed to run faster, and me about how I physically couldn’t due in my nearly four-inch heels—all conversation quickly screeched to a halt.

Because once we were fully inside, our eyes went starry, and all we could do was look all around at the soaring ceiling, the giant bar, the gorgeous crowd and the handful of faces that I swore I recognized from seeing somewhere at some point, be it on television or Instagram.

Silent, still squeezing Mia’s hand, I stared at all of it.

And only then did it all sink in.

I was actually here—in the glamorous, upper-crust world of Iain Thorn that I normally couldn’t know, and normally had no access to whatsoever. It was a place for only the rich and famous, where Iain thought he could avoid me forever, which was cold and unfeeling, and so fucking arrogant it made my toes curl in my heels.

The prick.

Just knowing that he was somewhere in here, laughing it up with his friends, leisurely living his life and giving exactly zero shits about what he did to me had me quickly and completely riled up again, and I was pretty sure Mia could tell, because suddenly she squeezed my hand back and nodded toward the roped-off stairs.

“Fuck getting a drink first. Let’s go up there,” she said, referring to the upper floor that we had the VIP bracelets for.

So off we went.

* * *

I wasin eighth grade the first time I ever laid eyes on Iain Thorn.

It was December, and I’d known all day that I’d be coming home from school to find my brother home for winter break, along with his best friend from Stanford Law.

For a full week prior, Mom had fought Dad about hosting “this boy.” “This boy” was wild and reckless just like my brother, and one Adam was hard enough, Mom argued, so two would be unmanageable, and letting him stay even in the pool house was completely out of the question.

But Dad spent days going out on a limb for Iain, arguing that he didn’t have anywhere else to go, and by whatever miracle—despite the fact that he never did—he won the argument.

Which meant that all day at school, my heart pitter-pattered at the idea of going home and getting to meet somebody new. Somebody who was older, and probably cool like my brother. Being thirteen, I’d obviously thought about the prospect of him being cute—how tall he was, what color his eyes were. For days on end, I’d hyped myself up with hormonal fantasies about how hot my brother’s best friend could be.

And still, none of it prepared me for what I actually saw.

“Go introduce yourself. They’re fixing his motorcycle in the garage,” Dad had said when I got home that day.

And though Mom had staunchly planned to come with me, the dirty look she shot Dad wound up getting her caught in a whisper-fight with him, so as they bickered back and forth in the kitchen, I went alone to the garage, feeling my cheeks heat up at just the sound of clanking tools, low voices and boyish laughter.

Just be natural. Be cool,I coached myself on repeat.

But that plan bombed, because the second I opened the garage door, my eyes landed on abs.

Naked, rippling abs as Iain wiped the sweat off his brow with his dirty white T-shirt peeled halfway up his lean torso. His six-pack tightened and un-tightened before my eyes as he caught his breath from working or laughing or both.

Whatever it was, I was hypnotized.

And that was before he even let his shirt down and stunned me with those bright green eyes, that perfect bone structure, and for the love of God, that smile.

I remembered just standing there, squirming in my school uniform and wondering if this was what it was like to watch porn, because it was this instant tingling sensation. The most sudden and unexpected flood of wetness I’d ever felt in my life.

At least until now.

Fuck.

My heart stopped when my eyes found Iain on that upper floor.

He was in the back corner of the room with a large group of friends. No jacket. No tie. Just a white button-down with the sleeves pushed up on his muscled forearms, and the left pulling tight against his bicep as he lifted his glass in a toast. His expensive watch gleamed in my eyes when he took a drink of his neat whiskey, and his sexy dimple caught me off guard as he let out a laugh, saying something or another to easily command the focus of the group.

For God’s sake, he was fully clothed in public, yet everything about him screamed sex.

And power. And though I’d hated that about him the other night, tonight it was tantalizing, because I hadn’t seen him like this yet—in his element. Being smooth, professional, charming. Smiling for people the way he hadn’t for me.

It didn’t hurt either that he looked like a mix of Hollywood and royalty in that luxuriously crisp shirt that was so perfectly fitted to his long, tapered torso, and so starkly white that it served as almost a spotlight for those stupidly sexy, tanned forearms.

“Okay, so that man isn’t real,” Mia said, the both of us staring.

And I had to agree, because in a sea of professional athletes, Iain was still the sexiest by far. He was broad and built but lean, sculpted by the inch to such painstaking perfection that it made everyone around him look bulky, sloppy, and excessive.

Can’t even blame you, I thought as a pretty brunette went up to him, shamelessly boxing out his smirking friends to offer her hand along with a big, flirty smile.

“Oh, fuck that,” Mia said, nudging me urgently. “Well? What are we waiting for? Aren’t we going to get in there?”

I didn’t take my eyes off of Iain as I said, “We can’t.”

We might’ve been in VIP, but apparently VIP had its own VIP, and that was where Iain was—in a special section of the upper floor that was squared off by a bunch of huge, leather couches, and guarded at the entrance by a guy who didn’t give a crap about your special bracelet, since he was only letting in the truly important people whom he actually knew or at least recognized, greeting them with big smiles and those high-five-handshakes.

Mia cursed under her breath. “Well… at least try to get in his eye line!” she protested in a huff.

And though I had an excuse for her already lined up on my tongue, I didn’t use it, because my body had a mind of its own, and my heeled feet were already bringing me in a dazed auto-pilot toward Iain.

By the time I got close to him, he was excusing himself from the brunette, who was refusing to give up on him just yet. I watched her touch his arm and step closer, trying but failing to keep his attention as from the depths of the crowd, somebody called his name. It was the perfect out, so with a goodbye and a polite smile, Iain turned away from her.

But as soon as he did, he found himself facing me head-on from ten feet.

His smile faded as he immediately slowed his step, and I bit my lip as a flash of shock lit his green eyes. A thrill coursed through my body as I watched his eyebrows pull tight and his jaw tick with that signature look of displeasure.

Though it wasn’t just displeasure this time, it was surprise.

Astonishment.

I had him caught off guard in a way I’d never seen before in my life, and I reveled in it. Because for those two exhilarating seconds, I had the upper hand.

Of course, that upper hand wavered as Iain slowed his step to a full stop and let his stunned gaze transition swiftly into a cold glare. There was contempt in his eyes as he stood at the edge of VIP, just staring at me. And for the next few seconds, our eyes locked in a heated standoff.

But then, with an oddly calm drink from his glass, he took half a step back.

And then with a slight tilt of the head, he dropped his eyes down the front of my body.

A shock of sensation erupted between my thighs as he looked right at them, letting his gaze travel leisurely across the hem of my short skirt before bringing it up my dress, till his heavy stare was fixed unapologetically on my thoroughly pushed-up breasts. I felt my breathing go jagged as he let his dark eyes linger there—for so long that he took another drink from his glass. Casual and relaxed. As if he were enjoying a painting. Or a sunset.

My swollen lips hung parted by the time Iain brought his steely gaze back to me, with a look that fully acknowledged the fact that he’d just eye-fucked the hell out of my tits.

Happy now?

His lifted eyebrow asked me the wordless question, letting it sink in with me for a single hot second before he turned cruelly around, disappearing back into his ultra-VIP crowd and leaving me to just stand there—as royally pissed off as I was completely turned on because holy hell, that just happened.

He’d just checked me out.

Iain Thorn. My childhood crush who used to ruffle my hair and call me “kiddo.” Who wouldn’t even talk about PG-13 topics if I was in the room. That same guy just stripped me naked with his eyes and devoured my tits like they were his favorite meal.

And then in true Iain form, he disappeared right after, reminding me yet again that he could do whatever he wanted, however he wanted, and that I was helpless to stop him.

Except this time, I really wasn’t.

“Another round for you ladies?”

Mia burst out laughing when I promptly nodded yes.

Seated at the bar, it was about to be our third round of shots in less than an hour, which was risky for me on any night let alone a night when I had yet to eat dinner.

But oh well, I didn’t care.

Tequila was doing me a world of good right now.It was easing my wrath over being ignored, and calming the heat I still felt from his eyes all over my body. It was keeping me sane amid all the crazy.

And best of all, it was pissing off Iain.

“Bottoms up!” Mia shouted as we knocked back our third shots, barely grimacing this time because we were thoroughly loose, and starting to feel all happy and buzzy.

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I slammed the empty shot glass down. And after licking the bit of salt off my mouth, I raked my bottom lip between my teeth, because I could feel that familiar tingle darting up the back of my neck.

My little sign that once again, Iain was watching.

My eyes were bleary as I peered back in his direction, and though I was fuzzy from the latest shot, my heart stopped just the same.

Because he was standing with two friends in the back corner of VIP, his body angled toward them.

But his eyes fixed on me.

They didn’t look away when I caught him. They only burned into me with a look of warning that made my skin tingle, because apparently, I did like the way Iain looked when he was mad at me—when I was the sole focus of his attention, despite the clear fact that he didn’t want me to be.

It was intimidating yet hot as all hell, and it had me thanking God that I was already drunk, because sober me would definitely not know how to handle this right now.

He finally looked. And now he won’t stop watching you.

It was starting to look like Mia’s theory was right, which was an insane thought to process.

So I didn’t try.

“I think she wants you to join her,” the bartender chuckled, nodding behind me at Mia when he came around to clear my empty glass.

I spun around to see her long, dark hair flying as she danced with abandon out on the floor, shimmying against the cute guys who’d been sitting next to us at the bar and doing her best to lure me over. Come to me, she mouthed, drunkenly beckoning me with both hands when I caught her eye.

I shook my head with a laugh, opting instead to taunt her by stealing her margarita.

But as soon as I wrapped my fingers around the cold glass, I felt a shiver move up my spine.

And as soon as I took a drink, I heard that low voice sound behind me.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

My stomach flipped as I spun back around in my chair, still mid-sip on Mia’s margarita as I laid eyes on Iain.

Fuck. Me.

He stood with one thick forearm resting on the bar top, and his long fingers wrapped around that neat whiskey. Up close, his gorgeousness was like smacking face-first into a brick wall. From this distance, I could admire the perfect smoothness of his sculpted lips and the smooth underside of his jaw. His wide chest was basically at the level of my eyes, and I couldn’t help but bite down on my straw as I let my gaze wander for a bit, soaking in all that pure, delicious masculinity before finally replying to his question.

“Actually, no. I’m drowning my sorrows because I got fired this week,” I said, grateful to the booze for giving me the nerve to stand up to the prick.

I tried not to squirm as Iain dropped his eyes to the smirk I couldn’t suppress from my lips.

“You don’t look all that upset.”

I gave a little shrug.

“Tequila helps,” I said blithely, looking up from under my lashes as I sucked down the rest of Mia’s drink.

His stony eyes were on my mouth as I finished, and he was standing so close, hovering so tightly above me now that I could make out the scent of soap on his skin—the same crisp, intoxicating scent I’d memorized by heart since I was thirteen.

It hit me with a sudden punch of nostalgic lust, flashing me right back to being that shy kid around the house—bumping into Iain wearing just a towel in the hall, or Iain wearing just a pair of grey sweats while grabbing a midnight snack in the kitchen. Without warning, my pussy squeezed at the memory of the time he made me a grilled cheese at 3AM—showered, shirtless, and still drunk from his wild night out with my brother.

While everyone slept, I watched his muscled back as he cooked, and as he asked me about school, I felt him rearrange everything inside my brain with just the view of his body and the rumbling sound of his voice.

It stirred something inside of me that just never went away, and that night, I wound up giving myself my first orgasm while lying in the darkness of my room, my hand slipped into my panties, and my breath hitched in my throat.

Crap.

It was an old memory, but apparently, it was all I needed to destroy the pair of grown-up panties I had on now.

With a little wiggle in my chair, I confirmed how uncomfortably wet they were, and it only got worse when I raised my hand for another drink just to feel Iain pin it firmly back down to the bar.

“She’s had enough,” he told the bartender just as he came over, staring till the poor guy nodded dutifully and walked away.

Only once he was gone did Iain turn back to me, his hand still on top of mine.

Our skin on skin had my heart beating out of control, but I refused to let it show, forcing myself to keep my composure as I looked him dead in the eye.

“I really need you to stop doing that,” I said.

“What? Making sure you don’t over-drink at parties you’re not actually invited to?”

“No. Controlling my life like you know what’s best for me,” I retorted. “I already told you, I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m not Adam’s baby sister who you wouldn’t even curse in front of. I’m an adult now. I know what I can handle and I know what I want.”

I swore I caught a dubious look in Iain’s eye, but then he was completely unreadable as he simply looked down at me, searching my face. For what felt like ages, he just stared—at my eyes, my nose, my lips, my neck.

Heat bloomed under my skin as his gaze moved a little south of my neck before he stopped himself and brought it back to mine.

“And what exactly is it that you want?” he asked.

I swallowed.

Several things.

I’d come into this night with demands. Specific ones. But with Iain standing so close to me, still touching me, they’d become afterthoughts.

Maybe it was the tequila. Or maybe it was the fact that I could feel the palpable energy thrumming between us. Whatever it was, it was what made me suddenly blurt out, “Where’s Keira?”

Oops, I thought, though I didn’t actually regret my question. Especially not when I caught the irritated look in Iain’s eye which, oddly enough, I’d come to really enjoy.

“She isn’t here,” he replied.

“And why not?” I challenged.

He was silent as he stared me down, looking unamused with my antics—like he knew well that his answer was about to embolden me.

“Because we’re not together anymore,” he finally said.

And… wow.

I’d kind of known it, yet it still managed to shock me. I mean it was a crazy thing to process.

Iain Thorn was single.

When I was a kid, he was off-limits because I was too young. Once I was of age, he was off-limits because he was taken. But now, after five years with the same girl, it was somehow all over. He was single, I was legal, and I had enough liquid courage buzzing through me to go ahead and call him out.

“I guess that explains the way you eye-banged my tits before,” I said, enjoying the deepened look of annoyance on Iain’s face.

He didn’t take his glowering eyes off of me, but he said nothing as he took a drink from his glass, watching me toss my hair back behind my shoulders and sit up straight in my seat.

“So. You asked me what I wanted,” I reminded him, feeling a slow but steady adrenaline coursing through my veins. “And honestly, I just want the truth about why you got me fired.” I pulled my hand out from under his to pinch my straw and position it just outside my mouth. “Is it because you’re that protective of me, Iain?” I asked mockingly, cocking my head to the side.

I paused for a moment, returning his unwavering stare as I wrapped my lips around the straw and sucked down the last drop of my drink.

“Or is it because you want to fuck me?”

My own words set fire to my cheeks as I gazed up at him, unblinking despite the crowd swelling around us and the strobe lights flashing in my vision. Outwardly, I was unflappable, defiant, but in secret, my breath caught in my throat, and I felt warm all over as Iain leaned into me, standing so close to me now that I could feel his fingertips graze my naked thighs.

It was the lightest touch but it still sent little bolts of pleasure coursing through my body, eventually settling into a deep, warm throbbing between my legs that made me to writhe in my seat as he finally parted his mouth to reply.

“I promise you, Holland,” he murmured, peering at my parted lips then looking back up at me. “You’re the last person in this world I would ever want to fuck.”

Oh.

The statement knocked the air straight from my lungs, but I continued to glare back up at Iain, daggers in my eyes.

He was lying and I knew it, but it still felt like a slap across the face. I could practically feel the sting of his hand on my cheek, and suddenly I was certain that I hated this man.

I hated that he’d ever come into my life.

That he’d addicted me to his kindness from day one only to disappear on me, and then come back cold-hearted and mean. He’d done nothing but insult since he walked back into my life, and still, he’d managed to pull me back into my stupid, teenaged fixation—even when I wasn’t a teenager anymore, and I knew a million times better.

I’d worked my ass off to grow up and get rid of the old Holland, and not only had he brought her back in a snap, he’d found a way to break her heart in half yet again.

For all that, I swore I despised Iain Thorn.

But I took a page from his book and gave nothing away as I looked back up at him.

“Good to know,” I said brightly, holding my stare for another second before hopping off the barstool and making a beeline for Mia.

I’d given Iain all the sass I had in me, and because of that, there were tears burning in my eyes as soon as I started walking away—which meant the plan now was to grab my roommate, grab a car, and then go the hell home.

But the second I found Mia—the second she saw the look on my face—I knew she had plans of her own, and before I could even open my mouth to insist, “We need to leave,” she took both my hands and pulled me in to dance with her and the two guys from the bar. And before I knew what was happening, I was letting loose, saying fuck it with my whole body and dancing everything away.

First with Mia, then with her and the guys, then finally with just one of the guys as we officially paired off for the night. The hurt, the rejection, the stupid, childish tears—they all faded slowly but surely as I felt the tequila seeping into my bloodstream and the music pulsing through my body.

I could feel the laser heat of eyes pinned on me from the bar, but with my own eyes closed, I refused to look back. Instead, I reveled in my stranger’s hands rubbing up and down my sides, his fingertips teasing the bottoms of my breasts as I rolled my head back onto his shoulder. Dancing against his warm body, I let myself get lost in the feeling of being wild for once. The thrill of being treated like a woman and having my body finally touched all over like this. I was like a ball of pent-up arousal, all hot and sweaty. Thrumming with anger and desperately aching for release.

It was why I gladly agreed by the time the guys suggested we take it to some hotel.

Something about a “sick rooftop.” An infinity pool. I was barely listening because my stranger had just squeezed my ass with both hands and murmured something dirty in my ear. Mia didn’t even hear it but it made her squeal with delight, and next thing I knew, we were all staggering outside, piling into a car.

The music and AC were already blasting, and I felt a full-body rush as I slid into the back, the last one in. Right away, my stranger’s hand found my thigh, and Mia let out an exuberant whoop as I closed the car door.

But I had barely slammed it shut before it opened again.

My heart stopped like a rock in my chest as I looked to the side, processing the sight of Iain’s shiny leather shoes before I heard his two-word command.

“Get out.”