Craving You Page 4

  That was messed up, sure, but it was the truth.

  When I got outside, I looked around, but she was gone. There was a small U-shaped area for valet drop-offs and people who needed to unload their luggage. I looked around, but she wasn’t there. Where the hell had she gone? Disappointed that I’d lost before I even got to play the game, I turned around to head back inside, and she was there.

  Zoey Lane was standing between me and the door to the hotel, and she was looking at me like she wanted to fuck me or fight me.

  And I couldn’t tell which.

  “David,” she said.

  “Zoey.”

  “You chased me.”

  “You ran from me.”

  “I didn’t want to talk to you.”

  “Why not?”

  She shrugged, but it was the type of shrug someone would use when they did know, but they didn’t want to say anything. Why didn’t Zoey want to talk to me? It had been a million years since we’d chatted, but I remembered the last day we ever spoke in excruciating detail. If I had to wager a guess, I’d say that she did, too.

  “I think you do know,” I told her. Fuck, she was beautiful. She had soft, pouty lips. She had big, beautiful eyes. She had a little pointy nose that I just wanted to bop with my finger.

  “Fine,” she said. Her eyes sparkled with irritation. She was probably trying to look pissed, but she just looked adorable. I was filled with the urge to spin her around and spank that cute little ass of hers until she begged me for more, but I held myself together. We were in public, after all.

  “Fine?”

  “I’ll tell you,” she said. “I don’t want to talk to you because you punched my boyfriend.”

  “Eric?” I laughed coldly. So that had been it. Of course, it had been. “He was hardly your boyfriend. I did you a favor.”

  “You did,” she agreed. “And I never forgot it.”

  “So, what’s the problem?” I asked.

  “The problem? The problem is that it was wildly embarrassing to have a huge crush on someone and to find out in front of your brother’s best friend that he was a lying piece of shit.”

  “So, you haven’t talked to me in years because of embarrassment?”

  Surely there had to be more to the story than that. Like, there really, totally, completely had to be more to the story. I just wasn’t buying the idea that it had been enough to keep us apart.

  “That’s part of it,” she said.

  “What’s the other part?”

  “No,” Zoey shook her head. “That’s all you get to know.”

  “That’s not fair,” I told her quietly.

  “Life isn’t fair,” she snapped. She looked away, and when she turned back to me, I was surprised to see her eyes brimming with tears. “Not everything is fair,” she told me.

  “Give me a chance,” I said. We were still standing outside of the hotel. Cars were coming and going, but we were standing to the side of the doors out of the way. People were loading and unloading, coming and going, but Zoey and I were suddenly trapped in our own little world.

  “Why?”

  “I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “How?”

  “Do you like gambling?” I asked her.

  She considered this for a moment. I knew for a fact that Zoey Lane never turned down a bet. How did I know this? Because my best friend’s girlfriend, Lauren, had done a pretty good job getting to know Zoey. Lauren was a sweetheart, but she also loved to talk, and it wasn’t hard to get her going when the topic was something she cared about. In this case, Zoey. She’d been the one who had told me that Zoey loved gambling and betting and playing cards.

  Well, this was a different kind of wager entirely, and it was one I knew sweet Zoey wasn’t going to be able to resist. I knew a lot more about Zoey than I should have, and I knew that Zoey was the type of person who liked to have fun. Even when we were kids, she’d always been curious, and that wasn’t going to be something she would have lost with age.

  “Why?” She asked.

  “I have an idea.”

  “Okay,” she said slowly, still looking at me.

  “Let’s go inside and I’ll tell you all about it,” I said. “It’s chilly, and you’re going to freeze to death in that dress.”

  “So, you like the dress?” Zoey asked. She looked slightly hopeful. Maybe Zoey wasn’t as disappointed to see me as she made me think. Had she known I would be here tonight? Had she dressed like that because she wanted to show off for me a little bit? Part of me hoped so. My cock hardened. It definitely hoped so.

  “Every breathing person in this hotel likes that dress, Zoey, and judging by the way you took your time looking around the banquet hall, I think you know that.”

  She smiled coyly, took my arm, and allowed me to lead her inside. There was no doubt in my mind that this was something she was allowing. Zoey only did as much as she wanted to when it came to personal contact. She wasn’t the type of person who could be coerced into much, and that was part of what made her fun.

  We went back through the lobby, but instead of taking her back to the hall where Felix and Lauren were entertaining their many guests, I found a quiet corner and guided Zoey to it. She smelled incredible, like vanilla and cinnamon, and she didn’t seem to mind me touching her as I gestured for her to take a seat. Somehow, she managed to sit down gracefully without flashing anyone, but there was no way that was an easy feat.

  “Well?” She said. “Why were you asking me about gambling?”

  “Because I have a proposition.”

  “What is it?”

  “I want to play a little game with you.”

  “What kind of game?”

  “The kind that you’ll like.”

  She considered this for a moment, but then she nodded, just as I knew she would. Zoey couldn’t resist a challenge. She also couldn’t resist a chance to show me that she was smarter than me. Despite not having contact with her for so long, I knew exactly what she was like. We’d grown up together, after all, and Zoey was ever the little sister. She wanted to prove she was better than her brother. She always had. Now, she wanted to prove she was better than me.

  “The terms are simple,” I said. “You spend the evening with me, and I bet that by the end of the night, you’ll have had the best orgasm of your life.”

  She sputtered, obviously not prepared for that, and when she composed herself, she shook her head.

  “What the hell are you talking about?’

  “One evening,” I told her. “Give me tonight. By the end of the party, if you haven’t had the best orgasm you’ve ever had, then I lose the bet.”

  “Um, okay,” she whispered, biting her lip. She wiggled a little, and I knew she was thinking about it. She probably had a million questions racing through her head, starting with who I thought I was. “What are the prizes?” She finally asked. “Like, if I win, and I don’t...you know...what do I win?”

  “Besides the orgasm?”

  “Yes, obviously.”

  “I’ll leave you alone,” I said. “And I won’t bother you anymore. I won’t talk to you or ask you about yourself. I’ll let you live your life perfectly as you have been.”

  “And if I lose,” she whispered.

  “Then you have to go on a date with me.”

  “You want to go on a date with me?” She asked.

  “Yes, very much so.”

  “Why?” She whispered. “You’re my brother’s best friend. Don’t you view me as-”

  “A little sister?” I finished for her.

  “Yes.”

  “No,” I laughed. “I’ve never viewed you as that.”

  “Really?”

  “Why?” I asked her, smirking. “Do you view me like a brother?”

  “No!” She protested a little too quickly, a little too loudly. A few heads turned, but everyone quickly went back to their own private conversations. “No,” she said again, lowering her voice. We were off in the corner, but there were still people walking around, talking and laughing.

  “Good,” I said. “So, this should be easy.” I reached out, and I placed my hand on her knee. We were sitting across from one another. My legs were open, manspreading-style, and hers were clutched tightly together. She looked like she was trying to keep herself completely composed, but I could tell that she liked the idea.

  “What are you doing?” She whispered.

  “Do you accept the terms of the bet?”

  “Maybe.” She bit her lip.

  “Maybe? Oh, darling, you can do better than that.”

  “Fine,” she shrugged. “What do I have to lose? Aside from my dignity,” she muttered.

  “In that dress?” I looked her over, moving my eyes up and down her body. She looked damn delicious. “Kitten, be honest. You came here to get someone’s attention. Were you disappointed it was mine?”

  “No,” she said breathlessly. So, she had known I would be at the party. Interesting. Maybe little Zoey wasn’t showing all of her cards right away, either.

  “Then let’s go back to the party.”

  I stood up, and I offered her my hand. Zoey accepted, and I led her back toward the ballroom where her brother’s 30th birthday party was happening. The music was loud, and the dancing was in full swing when we got back to the room. Zoey didn’t seem embarrassed or bothered to be there with me. If anything, it seemed like she was clinging to me a little bit. I slid my arm over her shoulder and tugged her closer to myself. I guided her to the bar and ordered us each a drink.

  “So, you drink,” she said.

  “I’ve been known to enjoy a nice glass of whiskey from time to time,” I told her.

  “Me too,” she said, sipping the Gentleman Jack. “This is actually one of my favorite whiskeys, yo
u know.”

  “I did not know.”

  “Must have been a lucky guess,” she said.

  “I’ve been known to be lucky from time to time,” I told her.

  “Apparently, you do a lot of things from time to time.”

  “Apparently.”

  “Do you do this a lot?” She gestured between us.

  “Spend time with pretty women?”

  “Place bets,” she said.

  “Still thinking about that?” I smiled.

  “A little,” she said. “Although, I still haven’t figured out how you think you’re going to get me off.”

  “I didn’t say I was going to get you off.”

  She looked visibly confused.

  “I said you were going to have the best orgasm of your life,” I reminded her. “But I didn’t say who would be providing that orgasm.”

  She gasped, and she slapped me playfully on the shoulder.

  “You sly fox,” she said. “You’re going to whore me out.”

  I laughed and shook my head.

  “No.”

  Then her eyes narrowed at me. She brought the whiskey glass to her lips and sipped it carefully before guessing again.

  “You’re going to make me masturbate.”

  “Is that something you’d enjoy?”

  She shrugged and looked away, and I had the distinct impression that Zoey wasn’t exactly the type of woman who kissed and told. There was no doubt in my mind that she had plenty of experience. She was nearly 30, after all, and she was drop-dead gorgeous. She knew how to be playful, and she knew how to banter, and she could hold her own in a conversation. Plus, judging by her brother’s explanation of her job, it sounded like she was on top of the world.

  Despite all of that, though, Zoey appeared to be wildly unappreciated. She hadn’t been teased enough, taunted enough. She didn’t seem to know just how beautiful she really was, and she didn’t seem to know that anyone in this room would be lucky to take her home. Jason and Taylor had both shot me confused looks when I’d walked back into the room with her on my arm, but I didn’t feel the need to explain anything to anyone.

  No, I wasn’t going to make her masturbate. As tempting as it was to have her tease herself to orgasm, I thought it would be even better to touch her myself. As long as she was enjoying the game, I’d play with her. I’d tease her. I’d torture her in the most delicious ways until she forgot everything except the feeling of pleasure.

  Before I could say anything else, the music stopped, and a spotlight shone on the man of the hour. Felix stood in the center of the room, and he smiled.

  “Thank you all for coming out tonight,” he said.

  “Happy birthday!” A guest yelled.

  “Yeah, happy birthday!”

  “Happy fucking birthday!”

  A few people laughed and most of the room cheered, egging on the birthday boy. I moved Zoey so she was standing in front of me. Her back was to my chest, and I held onto her waist, tugging her back against me. I was wrapped around her, holding her with one hand while I held my whiskey glass with the other, and we watched Felix together.

  “Thank you,” he laughed. “Now, as most of you know, today is a pretty important day.”

  “Oh, shit,” Zoey whispered.

  “What?”

  She didn’t reply, though. She was completely focused on Felix. Lauren stood to the side, watching him, too. All eyes were on Felix as he grinned. I wasn’t sure whether he was going to announce that it was time to eat cake or whether he had some sort of gag planned, but it soon became obvious.

  “Most of you know that my girlfriend, Lauren, and I have been dating for a while now.”

  “A lifetime!” Someone called out.

  “Ball and chain,” another yelled.

  Most of the guests were in their late 20s or early 30s, so they were close to our ages; however, a lot of them were single, and apparently, they liked that. At least, they wanted everyone to think that they liked it. There was nothing wrong with being in a long-term relationship, I thought. At least, there wasn’t anything wrong with being in one at this stage in our lives.

  “Oh, shit,” I whispered as he gestured for Lauren to join him. He was going to propose. Suddenly, it was obvious. Why else would he have begged me to come tonight? Oh, he led me to believe that it was so I could see Zoey, but there was something else there, too.

  The words seemed to float silently out of his mouth as he promised to love Lauren. He explained how important she was, and how special she was, and how much he loved her, but I couldn’t hear a damn thing. I just stared at him, completely caught off guard. He hadn’t even told me he’d been thinking of proposing. It had been a complete secret.

  Of course, Lauren said yes. She laughed and clapped her hands, and they kissed, and then the DJ started playing a romantic song which the lucky couple had obviously selected ahead of time, and Felix and Lauren danced to it in the center of the room. Zoey and I stood there, watching them. Our bodies were both wildly tense.

  “Did you know about this?” Zoey’s voice was a whisper.

  “No. Did you?”

  “No,” she said. “They both completely caught me off-guard.”

  “Me too.”

  “It’s not that he’s not allowed to have secrets,” she said. “But he’s my brother. He should have told me.”

  “I agree. As his best friend, I feel the same way.”

  “Well, fuck them,” Zoey shrugged. I knew it pissed her off that Felix had sprung this on us. It probably shouldn’t have been surprising. After all, he and Lauren had been together for a long time, and they’d been living together, too. They had a house, which was a nice, wonderful little home. It made sense that they were ready to take their relationship to the next level.

  “You aren’t happy for them?” I asked gently. I was still holding her from behind, and I sipped my drink as we watched everyone start to join in on the dancing. Couples filled the dance floor. As they made their way past the happy couple, they offered their congratulations.

  “I’m happy,” she said. “But I wish he had told me.”

  “I completely understand,” I told her. Then she downed the rest of her drink and turned, looking up at me. She gestured to the empty glass.

  “I need more whiskey,” she whispered. “A lot of whiskey.”

  “I think I have a solution to your problem.”

  4

  Zoey

  Engaged.

  He was engaged.

  My big brother and his beautiful girlfriend were totally, officially engaged. I was happy for them. I was. I was totally. completely happy.

  Only, I also kind of wasn’t. I also felt kind of thrown off-guard. Felix and I had always been close. Even after I’d moved away, we’d seen each other a few times a year, and we talked almost every day. So why hadn’t my brother dearest mentioned to me that he was planning to propose?

  I mean, at the very least, he could have let me help pick out the ring. It felt like I was being edged out of something that was supposed to be wildly huge and ridiculously wonderful. Irritation washed over me, and suddenly, I didn’t really feel like being at the party anymore. I couldn’t leave, of course. I was staying with Felix and Lauren, and it would be pretty damn weird if I got back to their house before they did. Luckily, David seemed just as annoyed as I was.

  He ordered two more drinks. He chose a different type of whiskey this time: Wild Turkey American Honey. His drink was neat: mine was on the rocks. I sipped at it, and a shiver shot through me.

  “Like it?”

  “It tastes like Mead,” I pointed out.

  “Like at the renaissance festival?”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. We’d all loved going to renaissance festivals as kids and even as young teens. Every summer, when we’d hang out together, we’d dress up in our best medieval costumes and go play games like “Drench-A-Wench” and eat turkey legs and broccoli cheese soup in bread bowls. We’d watch jousting and go through haunted houses. It was wonderful. The drink brought back a slew of amazing memories, and when I looked up at David, it was hard to see that sweet, carefree little boy in him.

  No, the David I’d known years ago was gone. My image of him had shattered when he’d punched my boyfriend square in the face. I’d never thanked him for what he did. I’d never told anyone either. There were so many reasons for it. The biggest one, though? I was scared. I was scared of how he made me feel.