Weak Without Him Page 4

  A bar in the kitchen overlooked the living room area. At the top of the stairs was a den that overlooked the open floor space. The bedrooms, although only two, were large with tall windows.

  "What's even better is you are only a few blocks from the heart of the city. I know you said that was a must." He smiled.

  "I want it. I'll take it. How much was the price again?"

  "Well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. The seller has it listed at half a million. I know you said your budget was half of that, so I thought maybe we could discuss a few things."

  "Yes, that's way over my limit. Not that it's not worth it. It's perfect. It's just, well, it's not within my budget."

  I had $600,000 in the bank from the insurance policy and selling the house. I couldn't spend that much.

  "Let me make a few phone calls. I'm allowed to act as your agent while representing my client. If not, I've got a few other places we can go."

  Clint, also known as Mr. Metro, stepped outside, and I watched him pace back and forth through the double sliding doors, talking a million miles per hour. Gosh, I wanted this place. The resale value would be just as high if I ever wanted to move, so it wasn't like I was blowing my parents’ money, but I couldn't spend that much. I sucked in a deep breath and decided that, regardless of what the sellers said, I would take it. It just felt right.

  Clint returned as I stood in the living room imagining where my new furniture would go.

  "I've got some good news and some bad news, which would you like first?"

  "Bad news, I suppose."

  "There was another offer, and the seller wants to close today."

  "Are you serious? That sucks. I really wanted it. So what's the good news?"

  "My client said to make an offer and he will consider it. I told him what your budget was, the $250,000."

  "Great. So I guess we should move on?"

  He received a text and pulled his phone from his pocket. His eyes lit up with disbelief.

  "Um. Actually we should go back to the office."

  "Why is that?" I said.

  "Because the owner accepted your offer, and he wants to close today."

  "What? Are you kidding? This place is going to be mine?"

  Every ounce of happiness spread across my face. It was probably the best thing that had happened to me in a long time. I couldn't hold back my ridiculous grin at the shock on Clint's face. Maybe Lady Luck did have my back after all.

  We went back to the office, and I signed the paperwork. Clint dropped me off at the café on the corner because I needed my coffee fix, and it was only a few blocks from the hotel. I hated walking back in there after the scene that happened that morning, but it was time to celebrate with death by coffee. As I walked in, the teenager at the counter lifted an eyebrow at me.

  "Yes, I'm back again."

  "Triple Mocha Latte with whip?"

  "You're good. And yep."

  I sat at a table in the corner and watched the people walk by. I couldn't contain my excitement and wanted to tell someone, anyone, about my new purchase. For a moment, I thought about texting Abbie. Eventually we would have to make up, right? She didn't really know how I felt about Finnley, so could I really hate her for it? As much as I wanted to think she didn't know, Abbie wasn't dense when it came to me and guys, and my hints were painfully obvious.

  The latte, so sweet and warm, satisfied me. I picked up a newspaper from a table close by and browsed the employment ads. Time to look for a job since the money wouldn't last forever.

  I stretched the thin paper across the table, crossed my legs, and scrolled through the various positions listed on the pages. Nothing captivated me like The Elite had, or would use my undergraduate degree like Simon and Fitch. I lifted the newspaper, folded it in half, and read my horoscope.

  Someone will turn your regular routine on its ear–and you're going to love it.

  I set the paper down and sighed. So, what if my regular routine was already completely jacked up? Stupid horoscope didn't account for that, did it?

  As I stared out the window and sipped my coffee, I felt someone standing behind me. When I turned to look, fucking Finnley Felton hovered over me. God, he looked yummy in his three-piece suit, and he smelled delicious. And I hated myself in that moment for dressing frumpy.

  "Hello. My name is Finnley Felton. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

  I looked at him incredulously.

  "If you haven't noticed, I'm trying to start over," he bent down and whispered in my ear.

  Oh, he wanted to start over, did he? Well, then I would play his game.

  "Hello, Mr. Felton," I said stressing his name. "My name is Jennifer Downs. It's nice to meet you," I said, ever so sweetly, and sipped my coffee. He sat down across from me, and I folded the newspaper in on itself.

  "I couldn't help but notice you were reading your horoscope. May I?"

  "What are you doing here?" I whispered lowly, making sure no one heard me.

  "Give me a break, Jennifer. I had to see you," he said.

  It was easy to forget about him when his smell wasn't pulling me closer to him, reminding me of all the things we had done in the past seventy-two hours. But with him sitting in front of me, looking like sex on legs, it was hard to ignore it all. Hard to push back the emotions that I was constantly forced to bury.

  "So, my horoscope?"

  "When is your birthday?"

  "May thirteenth."

  "Oh, a Taurus, the bull. Very fitting, Mr. Felton. Very fitting, indeed. It says, 'Though you're stable and sensible, sometimes you need to break out of that middle ground and try something crazy. Today is perfect for wild schemes and nonsense, so go for it!' Wow, yours is much better than mine."

  He lifted an eyebrow and bit his bottom lip. Fuck, he was sexy.

  "So won't you tell me about yourself?" I leaned across the table. "And don't you dare lie."

  He moved in closer to me, and his voice was almost a low rumble.

  "I run a successful business, and apparently, I'm an egotistical asshole who continuously makes mistakes."

  "Go on."

  "I've been in a horrible mood since someone I really care about walked out of my life."

  "Really? Why would someone do such a thing?"

  "Because I can be insensitive. I tend to be a little of heaven and hell mixed into one and shut my feelings off. I've done it for so long that I'm finding it hard to turn them back on."

  Finnley was being too truthful with me.

  "Oh, and I have one brother. Two houses. I like fast cars and beautiful women. And obviously, I've said way too much by the look on your face."

  "Well, Mr. Felton. It is quite a lot to take in with one bite."

  "I've got something I would like you to bite," he whispered.

  I recomposed myself and leaned my back against the seat.

  "I'd love to take you to dinner tonight," he said.

  "I don’t know if that's a good idea. I have to go furniture shopping today. I bought a house."

  "Then the occasion calls for a celebration. Join me for dinner. I'll meet you at your place once you've finished shopping."

  I thought back to my horoscope and decided to go for it.

  "Okay. Oh, you need directions, don't you?"

  He stood up and smiled.

  "No. I know where you're moving."

  I gave him a look.

  "Honestly, how do you think you got that deal? And how did I know you were here? Lucky guess? I think not."

  "Clint and his stylish clothes. I should have known he was one of your guys," I whispered.

  After another smile, the beautiful asshole was out the door.

  God, I missed him.

  I finished my latte and headed back to the hotel. The cold breeze crossed my face, and I shivered. Damn it was cold. Tucking my hands into my hoodie, I picked up the pace until the warmth of the Bellagio coated me. On the way up the elevator, I received a text.

  Finn: I had my
interior decorator look at your place. Furniture will arrive soon. Your boxes and every single piece of clothing I bought you will be there today. So you're settled.

  Me: Why are you doing this?

  Finn: Because I care about you. Pick you up at eight, where? Hotel or home?

  Me: Hotel

  Finnley turned my life upside down and right side up, shuffled my pieces, then put me back together. But he wasn't an open book and as much as I hated the unknown, whenever he was involved, I loved it. He owned property too and what were the odds I would choose his agent, and his damn townhome? I needed to figure him out, because he apparently had already done the same for me.

  I didn’t have too many nice clothes with me, just a suitcase of random things from the car. A black shirt with a swooping neck, a pair of tight fitting jeans, and heels would have to do. I washed my hair and applied dark eyeliner and mascara. My hair, just a bit wavy, cooperated like a champ in the cool weather. That was one good thing about little to no humidity, curls stayed and frizz didn't.

  Like always, I had a knock on my door, early. I cracked it open and Finn stood with daisies.

  He handed them to me. "You don't seem like a red rose type of girl."

  How did he continue to hit the nail on the head? I grabbed the coffee pot and filled it with water from the bathroom sink. He watched me with amusement.

  "I'm improvising."

  "I like that in a woman."

  After placing the daisies in a miniature coffee pot, I thanked him, and we were out the door. Like teenagers, we didn't speak to one another on the way to the lobby. My heart pounded and my nerves were on end. I wanted to talk about everything that had happened in the last few days but didn't know where to start.

  "You look nice," he said, as I slid inside V. I didn't reply. We zoomed past the faux Eiffel Tower, and I sighed.

  "What?"

  "Just thinking about Paris and how I really wanted to go."

  "Then let’s go," he said.

  I turned my body toward his.

  He slightly turned his head and looked at me.

  "Are you serious?"

  "Why not? I've been meaning to go back for quite some time. There are things I'd love to show you. My parents live in London. It's only a train ride away. I know Luketon is leaving next weekend." He stopped talking because he knew he had brought up a sore subject, Luke.

  "I'm sorry," he said.

  "I don't want to be the Yoko Ono of the family. Do you understand?"

  "My brother loves me, Jennifer. He would do anything for me, even if he thinks I'm a raging asshole. I know him. If it were between my happiness and his own, he would put me first. That's his nature. And I told him, you know. I called him this morning. I wanted him to hear what happened from me."

  The car seemed frigid, full of ice and coldness, and I felt sick.

  "I know. We met today, and it didn't end well. Not how I would have wanted or expected. What did you tell him exactly?"

  "I'm sorry. I didn't anticipate him meeting with you. I explained that we consummated our feelings for one another, that I fired you, and what happened between us was a secret. And we are now discovering one another and seeing where it leads. He was supportive."

  "Our feelings for one another? What are those exactly?"

  "I'm not sure. But it's something."

  At least that was the truth. I didn't know what the hell we were or where the hell we were going with one another, but the journey was half the excitement.

  A few more turns and we drove into the historic district, then into the driveway of my newly purchased townhome. The low lights leaked through the front windows.

  Finnley walked around the car and opened the door for me. He grabbed my hand and led me to the front door, which he unlocked with a key. Beautiful furniture filled the living room, stainless steel appliances in the kitchen, and a large shaggy rug lay across the floor. I gasped. The townhome went from empty to livable in only a few hours.

  "You did this for me?"

  "Yes. It looks nice doesn't it? My decorator is the best in the biz. Love him."

  Nice didn't adequately describe the way the patterns flowed from room to room or how the furniture was arranged to give an inviting feeling. I chuckled knowing that it would not have looked this way if I had gone shopping.

  A six-person table with candles and silver trays awaited us.

  "We're having dinner here?"

  "Why not? I thought it might be a nice way to celebrate your move."

  He lifted the lids from the platters: succulent salmon, asparagus, and tetrazzini. I sat down and scooted forward. Finn smiled then dished perfectly arranged portions on to our plates.

  "Wow, this looks delicious."

  "Yeah? I cooked it myself, so I hope you like it."

  "I tend to forget that you're a secret homemaker."

  "There are many things you don't know about me, Miss Downs."

  "And one day, I hope to learn them all."

  He smiled and I chewed. The fish melted in my mouth. A part of me didn't believe that Finnley could cook something so deliciously wonderful, but then again I already knew.

  He wiped his lips with a napkin and scooted his plate away; I did the same.

  "That was the best fish I've ever eaten. Superb job, Mr. Felton. I think you should have been a chef instead of a CEO."

  "I actually think I'm a great boss, and that my many talents shine through while I'm at work." He carried the dishes to the kitchen. Cold water splashed in the sink as he rinsed them and loaded the dishwasher.

  "Remember when you said that when I sat at my kitchen table you wanted me to think of you?"

  I thought back to the moment when I begged him to fuck me on the cool hard wood at The Elite house. I had pulled him close to me and wrapped my legs around him as his breath danced on my skin. I smiled at the memory.

  He smiled, knowing that I remembered, then wiped his hands on a dishtowel and turned toward me. "Now I want you to do the same."

  FINNLEY

  Seven

  I moved toward her like prey. She looked up at me like she had just met her maker, and I reveled in the fact that I made her weak in the knees. Jennifer Downs might be a strong woman, but I knew what I did to her. I was a drug that she couldn't wean herself from, and she was mine.

  Her smell urged me to get lost, and her skin begged for my touch. Would her soul reach out to mine and capture me? I knew she was pissed, but after she lost herself with me, she wouldn't be. Regardless of how much she tried to ignore what I said, she couldn't. We were human magnets drawn to one another and being together was nothing less than pure ecstasy.

  My lips nibbled up her neck, and she exhaled. I moved her body against the table until her ass pressed into the edge, then I lifted her onto the table, and she ran her hands through my hair.

  "What the fuck do you think you're doing, Mr. Felton?"

  I loved the sound of my name on her lips.

  "You." I ripped her pants down below her waist then leaned in to kiss her mouth and feel her lips on mine. She panted with satisfaction as I pushed my hardness against her. Not allowing her to be in control, I pushed her back on the table and pinned her arms above her head.

  "That's what I've been missing," she said.

  "Shut the fuck up. Don't talk."

  She begged to be talked to like a dirty little whore and have her ass smacked. Jennifer Downs was a naughty girl.

  Continuing to kiss her soft skin, I grabbed the little string of her pink panties with my teeth and inched them down. She sat up and tried to remove my suit jacket and unbutton my shirt. Her hands brushed across my stomach as she fidgeted with the button of my pants. They fell to the floor. I removed my shoes, socks, and jacket and stood in my white boxers and shirt.

  "We're going to play a game," I whispered into her mouth, letting the emotion in her kiss transfer to me. Her ass slid off the wooden table, and she stood.

  "Okay," she said.

  "I'll be right back.
" I thought she might stop breathing.

  I went to her bedroom and saw the amazing job Clint did with the decor. The suitcase I had delivered waited for me on the bed. I pulled out a binding rope and blindfold. Tonight we would have fun the way she dreamed of in her fantasies; to be bound, and taken. A smile crossed my face as I thought of her waiting for me downstairs. I wondered what she was thinking.

  Tonight, I would control my emotions and give her the man she begged to have. The man that pissed her off and made her wet. The asshole that I inevitably was.

  She stared out the double patio doors and looked up at the starry sky. She turned around, completely naked, and looked at me.

  I swallowed.

  Her eyes found their way down to the blindfold and rope that I tightly grasped in my fist. A smile crossed her face. She fucking loved it.

  "Do you want to play?" I swung the rope, and she smiled.

  "Yes, Mr. Felton, I want to fucking play."

  Her teeth grazed my chin, and I held back a shudder. She drove me wild.

  I positioned her body to easily wrap the rope around her wrists. Not too tight, in case she wanted to be released, but tight enough to keep her bound. Softly my fingers glided up the sides of her arms, and I placed the blindfold over her eyes.

  "Now," I whispered. Her breasts rose and fell with every breath. "Get on your knees."

  She dropped down on the rug, like a fucking statue so smooth and perfect, with her hands behind her back. I stood there and smiled at the beautiful woman that would do anything I demanded. A want and need so painful crept through my body and I had to have her, but not until she begged for me. Not until she demanded I give myself to her, and she would. I knew Jennifer Downs.

  "Do you like being bound?"

  She nodded her head. I walked behind her and swept my hand along her back. She swallowed.

  "What do you want me to do?"

  She sat perfectly still for a few moments, and I was worried that she wouldn't answer.

  "I asked you a fucking question. Answer it." I gave her every bit of my asshole attitude that she desired.