The man smirks. “The slammer. You missed quite a show.”
Oh, no. This isn’t good.
Worse than that, this is all my fault.
I rush outside, frantic as I raise my hand to hail another cab. Sliding into the back seat, I bark, “Police station!”
It’s only when the driver looks back at me like I’m insane and says, “Which precinct?” that I realize I am in way over my head.
I need to calm down. Think. “Uh, where would they take someone under arrest?”
He shrugs as if to say, Your guess is as good as mine.
I can’t do this on my own. I need help. Caleb needs help. Someone who can…
It suddenly hits me. Jonathan Brewer. His attorney. I’ve spoken to him a couple times, obviously regarding more corporate, non-criminal matters. But he’s got to be better at this than I am.
“All right. Just… Hold on.” I fish my phone out and find his number in my work contacts.
He picks up on the third ring. “Brewer.”
“Hi, Jonathan? This is Juliet Nichols. One of Caleb Sterling’s assistants.”
There’s a pause. “What’s the problem? I’m sure it is a problem, since you’re calling me near midnight on a Friday night.”
“Caleb’s been arrested.”
Another, longer pause. “Sorry. What did you say? Sounded like you said Caleb was arrested.”
“Yes. It’s a big mess, but his partner had him ousted from his position at Sterling Cross, and when he went back to the office, they had him arrested.” I look up at the driver, who’s tapping the steering wheel impatiently. “I don’t know—”
“All right. He’d be down at the Midtown South. I’ll make some calls and head over there.” His breathing sounds labored, as if he’s already jumping into action.
“Thank you. Thank you so—”
“You should head home, Juliet.”
I frown. As if going home will relieve the massive lump of guilt inside me. “Oh, but if I can help in any way, I want to—”
“Go home.”
He ends the call.
I shift in my seat, staring at the display, then look up at the driver, waiting expectantly for the address.
“Midtown South,” I say. “As fast as you can.”
Ten minutes later, the cab pulls up in front of the precinct. I climb the stairs and go inside, and immediately, all eyes are on me. There are police officers, tough criminals, prostitutes, all kinds of riffraff, and I’m the only one in an evening gown. I’m sure Caleb probably got the same looks when he came in here in his tux.
I attack the counter in the main lobby. The female officer behind it doesn’t look up from her computer. “Excuse me?”
Letting out an annoyed grunt, she doesn’t rush to look up at me. “Can I help you?”
“Yes. Did you bring a Caleb Sterling here?”
A dreamy look washes over her face, one most women have upon the mention of the name Caleb Sterling. “Oh, yes. Oh. Yes.”
She sounds like she’s just nodded off into a fantasy involving the two of them. I suppose I can’t blame her. Caleb Sterling alone is enough to wet panties, but Bad Boy Caleb Sterling in handcuffs is probably a whole other level.
Now, I’m the one who’s annoyed as I wave my hand in front of her face. “Can I see him?”
She shakes her head. “Sorry. He’s in a meeting with his attorney.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You mean, Jonathan’s here already?”
She nods.
Okay, that’s good. He’s going to get this taken care of. Everything’s going to be okay.
Even so, I’m so full of nervous energy that I start to pace, wearing a path in the lobby. After a few minutes, I’m aware of everyone looking at me. I retreat to an empty chair in the corner and try to keep still, but I can’t stop tapping my foot and gnawing on my thumbnail.
It’s only as I’m ripping the nail off that the door opens, and Caleb appears. His bowtie is undone, his hair a little scruffy, eyes tired, five o’clock shadow in full-effect. He’s followed by a man in a dark custom suit and severe haircut that has to be his attorney.
My heart jumps. I spring up.
He glances at me for a beat—no, half a beat—before stalking toward the door.
Totally dismissive.
So that’s how he’s going to play it? He’s going to ignore me? His enemy?
“Caleb!” I cry, hating how desperate my voice has become.
He turns, then murmurs something to Jonathan, who nods and heads through the door. Then he bridges the distance between us.
He opens his mouth to speak but I already know I won’t like what he has to say.
So I speak first, my words stopping and starting, jittery and breathy. “Look. I know. I know—you hate me. But—I just want you—to know. I never meant—to hurt—”
“I don’t hate you.” His voice is steel.
I freeze. “You don’t?”
He shakes his head, almost imperceptibly. I don’t take my eyes off his, but I already know… Everyone is staring at us.
Before relief can fill me, he says, “That would mean I feel something for you. And I don’t. You were just a fun plaything. That’s all.” He rubs the back of his neck as he looks around, then lowers his voice. “No fuck is worth this.”
Then he pushes open the door and heads out into the night, leaving me alone.
2
JULIET
“Now,” I tell him, lifting my skirt. “Just please. Caleb. Do it to me now.”
Obliging me without a word, he positions himself between my legs, cradling my ass. I hook a leg around his hips, so I can feel the tip of his cock bumping against me. I shove his pants down to his thighs and he grips himself in his hand, nudging aside my panties and sliding himself up and against my slit.
I’m so wet, and he’s doing it again, teasing me, running the tip of his cock up and down my sex. And just when I’m about to lose my mind from the sweet friction, he positions his cock at my entrance, and with one hard thrust pushes the full, huge length into me.
My back arches against the cold tile and I let out a rapturous cry.
He holds still inside me. My pussy walls grip him tightly. He kisses me punishingly, grabbing onto my legs, burying himself fully inside. He slides his cock out, pausing when just the tip is still inside. Then he pushes back in, forcing all the air out of my lungs.
God, it’s even deeper this time.
His hands tighten on my hips, and I start pushing my hips down to meet his thrusts. The pressure of his pelvis grinding on my clit is too much, and suddenly I’m on the brink of oblivion again. He’s thrusting as I shudder, screaming his name. But when I open my eyes, it’s not Caleb in front of me.
It’s Sebastian Wolfe.
I gasp, “What are you—”
But I can’t help it. I’m coming, and I can’t stop now. Shame washes over me as the orgasm crashes through me. And I thought Caleb couldn’t possibly hate me more…
Smiling that same predatory grin he’d had while chatting with Olivia, he leans in, his breath warm on my ear. “You, Darling, are fucked…”