I should be feeling on top of the world. This is what I wanted. It's what I’ve dreamed of. I lived and breathed this deal until a certain rainbow-haired beauty entered my life, leaving exquisite chaos in her wake.
“Thank you, sir. I’m honored. Graham and I are as passionate about this resort as you are,” I answer him, stepping aside as Graham moves in to shake Peterson’s hand too.
I glance at my watch and note the time. Linda’s showing starts in thirty minutes and I know she is probably wearing out a spot on the floor, pacing backward and forward as her nerves eat at her.
I watch as Graham laughs at something Peterson says, but all I can see is a montage of images flashing through my mind. Linda, with her head thrown back, laughing. Linda, with her eyes glazed with lust as I moved inside her, and those same eyes filled with tears after I broke her heart and trust and made her feel like she didn’t matter.
I made her feel worthless when the truth is, she’s the only splash of color in my gray world. The only one that matters. Fuck, what am I doing? I glance at my watch again and make a decision that I should have made weeks ago.
“Asher?”
I hear Peterson’s voice call my name. I look up at him to see him staring at me with confusion. I notice then that I had grabbed my jacket and briefcase without even realizing it.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him before looking at Graham. “Really fucking sorry.” I reiterate to my best friend, who looks at me with resignation and a hint of humor.
“What’s going on?” Peterson asks, his friendly demeanor quickly disappearing. “Is this some kind of joke to you?” he blusters, making his lawyers sitting in their seats behind him start to circle like sharks looking for blood.
“No joke, sir. I am truly sorry. I want this resort more than you could possibly know, but there is something I want more, and that is to be with my wife on her big night. She needs me, and by being here with you instead of being there, I’m hurting her all over again. I want the resort, but I can live without it. What I can't live without is my wife. I have to go.”
I don't say anything else, already knowing I’m going to be pushed to get to her on time, but I will make it even if it kills me. I message Davis as I wait impatiently in the elevator for it to descend to the lobby. Thankfully, he is already outside as he was unsure what time I would need him, so he decided to stick around.
“Davis, remind me on Monday to get Rosa to sort out a pay raise for you,” I tell him as I slide into the back seat.
“What? I mean, thank you, sir,” he says, surprised.
“You’ve earned it. Now, can you get me to the Union Art Gallery as fast as possible without getting us pulled over?”
“Yes, sir. Absolutely.” He doesn't waste any more time making idle chit chat as he pulls into the flow of traffic.
I take a deep breath and lean my head against the cool glass, watching as the rain that has been threatening all day finally begins to fall. I just walked away from the deal of a lifetime, and yet all I feel is the burning need to get to my wife to make her see that I will always choose her over everything else.
Forty minutes later, we pull up outside the gallery. I jump out into the deluge of rain, leaving Davis to find somewhere to park. I weave around the crowd of people and make my way inside to the front of the entrance line, only to be stopped by a guy with an earpiece and a clipboard.
“Name?” he asks as I ignore the grumbles behind me.
“Asher Sloan,” I answer, trying to look around him.
“Sorry, sir, you’re not on the list.”
“You don’t understand—”
He cuts me off with a long-suffering sigh. “Look, I get it, but no invite, no entry. I don't make the rules. I just enforce them, so do me a solid and go home, yeah?”
“Look, you don’t know who I am.” I cringe, realizing too late how conceited that sounds, and judging by the scowl on his face, he didn’t miss it either.
“I’m all ears,” he drawls in a patronizing tone, making me realize that he couldn’t care less if I were the pope. “I’m just dying to know who you are.”
He’s clearly not, but I have to get inside. I open my mouth to apologize and explain when a soft voice that makes my dick throb answers from behind him.
“He’s my husband,” Linda says, stepping out from behind the guy's large frame, looking like a movie star.
“Really?” the big guy asks her. When she nods, he turns to me with a scowl but indicates for me to enter. “Next time, lead with that, buddy,” he calls over his shoulder as the people that were behind me hand their invitations to him.
I drink her in. The vision of her gorgeous lithe body encased in all that black silk will be one that stays in my brain until my dying day.
“You’re breathtaking,” I tell her in earnest.
“Why are you here?” she questions, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. There is no hostility in her voice, just a wobble in her tone that shows her nerves. Whether that's because of me or the show itself remains to be seen.
I grab her hand and pull her over to the first door we reach and yank it open, finding a cleaning supply closet. Pulling her inside, I shut the door behind us, enclosing us in the darkness. There is next to no space in here, leaving our bodies pushed tight against each other.
“What are you doing?” she whispers.
“I’m finding a quiet place to tell my wife that I love her. That I’m in love with her, and that I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I fucked up, and I’ll fuck up again. I’m a man, it's what we do, but I promise I won't ever lie to you or make you feel less than you are. I walked out on the biggest deal of my life tonight when it became blindingly clear that the only contract I care about is the one tying me to you. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. I’d give up everything for a second chance, but don’t ask me to give up on us. Say you’ll be mine, Skittle,” I demand.
I hear her sob before her tear-filled voice echoes in the quiet room.
“I’m already yours. I’ve always been yours,” she chokes out.
I don't wait for anything else. I cup her face with my hands, feeling for her lips with my thumb before sliding my mouth over hers, claiming her once more.
I can’t do soft and sweet. My need for her and the relief of finally feeling her in my arms again outweighs everything else. Our kiss burns hot and heavy like they always do, our passion for each other as combustible as always, igniting a need in me so strong I have to lock my knees to prevent them from buckling.
“I need to be inside you, Skittle,” I groan, sliding the smooth material up over her hips before yanking her up into my arms.
“Oh god, Asher, people will be looking for me,” she protests, but she doesn't pull away. Instead, she starts grinding her slick heat against my rock-hard cock.
I pull my lip from hers when I realize my hands are on bare skin. “Are you wearing underwear?”
She laughs but groans as the motion pushes her harder against my dick. “In this dress, it wasn’t an option. I thought that might have been your intention all along,” she admits with a pant.
I use the wall to support her one-handed as I fumble with the other to free myself from the confines of my pants. “It wasn’t, but I’m sure fucking glad for it now,” I groan as I use the tip of my cock to locate her entrance before slamming my full length inside her.