“It’s a little after five. So, I’m good,” I told her, smiling at her as I added, “You, on the other hand, should go back to sleep.”
“Nah, I’m fine.” I could tell by the sleepiness in her eyes and her voice that she was still bushed. “Let me get you some coffee.”
I chuckled. “Trust me, it’s alright. I’m used to getting up this early. Get some sleep, and I’ll see my way out.”
“Alright,” she agreed without much hesitation, which was cute.
“I’ll be in touch later today,” I promised. “We can plan when we’re seeing each other next. Sound good?”
“Mmm…perfect.”
It was pretty damn adorable the way she was trying to stay awake. I kissed her one more time before getting up. I put on my clothes as quietly as I could.
“Hey,” she said, rolling over.
“Yeah?”
“I had a lot of fun last night.”
“Same,” I said. “Most I’ve had in a while.”
She smiled slowly at me before closing her eyes. By the time I stepped into my shoes and made my way to the front door, soft snores filled the air. It made a certain amount of sense that she was a snorer – she needed something to offset the beauty; otherwise it might not be fair.
I locked the door behind me and went out to my car. The air was crisp with a serious chill. Clouds blanketed the sky, and it felt a like snow was in the air. About time, too. With Christmas around the corner, we’d need some white other than what was on the tops of the mountains in the distance.
I climbed into my Land Rover and started the engine, driving through downtown and to the road that led to my house. My neighborhood was called The Chalet, and the name was fitting. The many houses, all of them huge and belonging mostly to the wealthy types that vacationed in the area, dotted the side of the hill before the mountain.
I was about a twenty-minute drive away and before long pulled into the middle door of my three-car-garage. My house might’ve been what some considered a little much. It was three stories, done in a chateau style of brick and wood, and situated on a massive chunk of land complete with Olympic-sized pool, guest house, and tennis court – not that any of those got much use in the winter.
Maybe a little big for one person, sure, but I liked it, thinking of it more as a symbol of how far I’d come since I’d started out as an eager pre-med at UCLA.
I stepped into the huge entry room of the house, tossing my keys onto the kitchen bar. The room was lodge-style, with a massive fireplace, hand-made furniture, and a single large, arched window that looked out onto the mountains. The room called out to me to relax, to kick off my shoes and plop onto the couch, to enjoy some coffee as I watched the sun rise.
No time for that, however – the conference call awaited. I made some coffee and went up to my third-floor office, sat down behind the desk, and send out the texts to get it started.
The call lasted a couple of hours and was between me and a few other doctors, all with plenty of questions about the meeting I’d had. They wanted details – when I was planning on opening new locations, how much staff I was planning on bringing aboard, and how much I’d be paying them. I’d done my homework, so it all went about as expected.
And the moment it ended, my thoughts returned to Annie. God, what a woman. I sat back in my chair, thinking about how she looked underneath me, my cock buried between her legs, her face tight and her mouth open in a wide, silent O as I made her come for the third time.
I couldn’t wait to see her again. But before I could get too lost in the fantasy, my phone buzzed on my desk. A text from Andrew.
Busy last night?
Shit. I felt like a real asshole. After all, he’d been so intent on our bi-monthly get-togethers, and I’d blown him off. And not just blown him off – blown him off so I could fuck his ex-girlfriend. I remembered what had happened at the restaurant, how he’d been there, how we’d almost been spotted.
Or had we been spotted? Was Andrew asking the question because he’d seen us and was being coy about it? I needed to play this right.
I didn’t feel too bad about all that. After all, he’d treated her like shit and broken up with her. But still, it didn’t sit all that well with me, and ditching him didn’t help matters.
Sorry, sorry. Had the chance for a once-in-a-lifetime date. I’ll make it up to you.
It’s fine. Just text me first next time.
Andrew wasn’t the most expressive guy in the world, always playing things close to the vest. Nothing about his text indicated one way or another that he’s seen us.
I likely wouldn’t know until the next time we got together.
Will do. And sorry again.
No response to this. But knowing Andrew, it was because he’d simply decided nothing else needed to be said.
Sometimes I worried Andrew was too put-together for his own good, too driven by the cold, logical part of his brain, which was why he’d broken up with Annie, after all. He’d coolly weighed the pros and cons and decided he didn’t have time for a woman in his life, that his career was the bigger concern.
And she was left with the broken heart.
That was none of my business, however. If he wanted to break up with someone like her, that was his loss. I couldn’t imagine in a million years having a woman like Annie and deciding writing legal briefs was a better use of my time. Hell, if I had her, you’d almost have to drag me out of bed to the office.
And I wanted her like crazy. I’d wanted her since I’d seen her picture on his social media.
I’d known it was wrong as hell to want my brother’s girl. But he’d made the decision for her not to be his girl any longer. Didn’t that mean he’d given up any right to complain about it if I were to move in? But I knew it wasn’t that simple. Andrew and I were different, but in very important ways, we were similar. One of those ways was that we were both take-charge, type-A men. Alpha to our cores.
And men like us didn’t care for it one bit when other men moved in like that – brother or not. He’d view it as a betrayal if I were to start something out in the open with Annie.
Hell, maybe he’d be right.
All of a sudden, I felt tense, like my mansion had suddenly closed in around me until it was the size of a closet. I felt trapped. I needed to get out of the house, get some fresh air.
After throwing on some winter-appropriate running clothes, I headed out for a quick few-mile jog around my property. The air, the chill, the rushing of my blood – it did the job. Now and then I’d consider the idea of moving to Denver, getting a penthouse downtown. But whenever I gave myself the chance to go out onto the property and take in the gorgeous vista around me, I remembered why I’d made the decision I had.
When I was done, I showered and changed, still feeling a little keyed-up when I was done getting ready. I decided to head into town, to grab some coffee and do my work there.
After a quick drive into town, I pulled into a spot near Apres Ski Roasters, my usual spot, not to mention the place where I’d met Annie before. April, the barista who always seemed to be working when I showed up, greeted me with a smile and my usual Americano.
“I should be mad at you, you know,” she said with a sly grin.
“Is that right?”