Page 95 of Savage Suit

Shifting from foot to foot, she stared at me, debating my sincerity. Finally, she nodded. “Megan told me about the terms of wearing the clothes. They were on loan to me and anything that I damaged would come out of my paycheck.”

“I see.”

“If it weren’t for Tina, I wouldn’t have been able to wear the jewelry. I’m sorry she insisted and am glad Megan refused to allow Celine to show me the panties and bras she’d brought.”

“I see.” Did I fucking ever. “Tina was there when Megan told you the terms?”

“Yes.” She shifted. In her bare feet, she was much shorter than me. “Anything else?”

“No.” Turning away from her to keep from taking her into my arms, I walked to the door and opened it. “Have a good evening.”

Once she picked up her shoes, she breezed past me. “You, too,” she threw over her shoulder, and sailed away, leaving me staring in the spot she’d just stood.

Chapter Twenty-One

I was a lover of trivia, fascinating bits of history, and offbeat, quirky facts. Somewhere, I’d read about the worse decade for humans to be alive, though that time extended longer than ten years. I’d always counted myself lucky to be born in a world of advancements. Yet, today counted as the single worst day of my life. It exceeded the days of my parents’ deaths and their double funeral. It was a hodge podge of emotions, tumult, humiliation, shock, and despair.

I wanted a do-over. I wanted a giant cosmic eraser to obliterate this particular Monday from the annals of my life. If I thought the shit flushed down the drain after leaving Noah’s office, I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Opening my office door, laying the dress over the back of my chair, setting the pumps on my desk, and gathering my things went deceptively smooth. Likewise, walking out and locking up. After going to the deserted garage in my bare feet, however, I discovered the depth of the day’s fuckery.

Sandy wouldn’t start. The tow truck arrived over an hour later. An Uber took another thirty minutes. I’d considered calling Noah, but our sex crossed a line and we both knew it. He wanted to pretend it never happen, so turning to him for help because of car problems went beyond the scope of boss/employee. I hope I hadn’t made a mistake by explaining the damaged clothing.

On the ride home, I emailed Megan about the dress, leaving out Noah’s reassurances. There was no way I could explain such to her. Her reply was immediate and unsympathetic. My first three paychecks were in jeopardy. As I got out of the Uber and it drove off, my keys and cellphone dropped onto the street. Sighing, I picked both up. After stuffing my cellphone back into my purse, I fastened it closed and headed into my building.

By the time I unlocked my door and walked into my apartment, I’d wanted nothing more than to collapse in exhaustion.

Instead, after setting my things against the wall just inside the door and flipping on the overhead light, I found my sister and Reid Keegan sixty-nining on the sofa I sometimes napped on. I screamed. In response, my sister lifted her head, allowing me to see Reid’s mighty cock, glistening with her spit. At that moment, I hadn’t known the identity of the owner of the appendage since Quinn’s ass still covered his face.

I’d whirled around, too tired to summon maternal/older sister outrage.

“Reid was just about to come, Ryan,” Quinn had slurred. “Can you leave so I can get him off?”

And here I was, still cavorting in the fucking sewer. I faced them again, only to see her jerk against his mouth and shudder as she screamed. Because, yeah, why not? Why not cap off my fucked-up day by seeing my little sister have an orgasm?

He wrapped an arm around her waist and plopped her next to him, not embarrassed or bothered by my presence. “Are you wearing Noah’s clothes?” he asked as he sat up a moment later and squinted at me from head to toe. “Where are your shoes?”

“Where are your clothes?” I retorted, folding my arms as Quinn straightened into a sitting position.

They both glanced around, then looked at each other and erupted into laughter.

“Who knows?” Quinn chortled, which made Reid laugh harder.

“Can you find them and get dressed?” I asked, sweet as pie, even though I was on the verge of losing it. “Then do me the favor of getting out of my apartment.”

“I’m not the only one getting fucked tonight,” Quinn said with a wide smile.

I tried to fix my mouth to say nothing happened, but I couldn’t allow the lie to pass my lips. Something had happened. A lot. Too much. I’d fantasized about kissing Noah and sleeping with him, but I’d always categorized him somewhere between staid and selfish.

He wasn’t either. His prowess was so far on the other end of the spectrum that my assumptions were almost laughable. He was generous and passionate anddirty. His savage pursuit of my pleasure swept through me like an out-of-control fire.

Even now, hours later, I could not pinpoint the moment his tender comfort had flared into undeniable desire. I’d needed solace. I’d wanted to forget and lose myself in his arms. His skill, or lack thereof, hadn’t even entered my mind.

When he’d ripped that stupid dress, a moment of clarity had almost ruined everything. But then he’d taken me into his arms again and I’d felt what I’d only known in my dreams with a conjured ball guest—safety and understanding.

Now, though, I had to box tonight’s lovemaking with Noah and tuck it away, never to unwrap it again.

So instead of confirming or denying Quinn’s statement, I remained silent.