Wicked Envy, page 5
But I do provide him with a hint. “In your office Friday, when we discussed going to The Wicked Horse and Dane was clearly bent out of shape about me going?”
“You just caught him by surprise,” Andrew says to defend his friend. I can’t help but smile because that’s something the three of us do routinely… rush to the defense of one who is pitted against another.
But then my smile turns sober, and I tell Andrew the truth. “It was the first time I felt excluded by the two of you.”
“He didn’t mean it—”
“Being in The Orgy room with you Friday night… as we shared all that was good, consensual, and fulfilling. It was nice to share that with you, Andrew.”
Not unexpectedly, Andrew blushes but his smile in return is genuine.
“It truly showed me that I could be equal to you in all ways,” I add on softly. “And as we’re able to sit here now and talk about this, and you’re not looking at me like I’m crazy… well, it means everything to me.”
Andrew stands up from his chair and comes around the desk. His eyes stay pinned on me the entire time, even when he squats down by my knees. He takes one of my hands and squeezes it. “There is nothing that you could do that would ever make me look at you differently, Av. And I mean nothing.”
I’ve never been an overly emotional woman, really only crying during sad movies or over injured animals. I definitely have a temper, but I’ve been fortunate that it usually manifests into icy but collected deliberation before I act in response.
Well… except for the getting drunk and dumping Jamie’s stuff on the front lawn. I guess that day I acted as a truly betrayed woman whose heart was hurt and whose pride was deflated.
That was then though, and this is now, and my eyes mist up slightly.
Leaning forward and pulling my hand away from Andrew’s, I give him a hug. He stands up, and I have no choice but to stand as well since my arms are wrapped around his shoulders.
He reciprocates by engulfing me in his embrace and rocking me back and forth. With a last squeeze, he lets me go and we step back from one another.
Andrew gives a little cough, drops his gaze, and then looks back up at me. “So… um, I better get back to work.”
“Me too,” I say with a smile. “Thanks for the talk.”
“Yeah… sure.”
I turn for the door but before I reach it, Andrew asks, “Are you going back?”
My hand freezes on the knob as I twist my neck to look at him over my shoulder. “I am. Are you?”
Andrew shrugs. “Maybe. Not sure.”
“If you liked it,” I tell him candidly. “You should go back.”
To my surprise, the doorknob twists under my hand from someone on the other side. A quick knock and the door is opening, so I step back. Dane pokes his head in, looking at me first, then Andrew, and then back to me.
“Good morning,” I say with a bright smile.
“Morning,” he says, returning one that’s not as bright and is actually almost hesitant. “Good weekend?”
“Fantastic weekend,” I tell him. I give a wave to Andrew before stepping past Dane into the hall. I call back to both men. “Talk later.”
CHAPTER 6
Dane
“Unless there’s anything to discuss, let’s get out of here,” I say as I look around the conference room. It’s nearing eight PM, and I just finished up our quarterly meeting for Caterva’s technology advisory board.
While my idea to change the face of blood analysis was pioneering, it was also an uphill battle. I didn’t seek further education after getting my B.S. in chemical engineering, but I knew if I was going to push the idea forward, I’d need to stack my advisors heavily around me. The technology board is replete with pharmaceutical executives, diagnostics experts, and university professors. Andrew co-chairs the board with my former Berkley professor, who is the senior faculty scientist at the school’s national laboratory.
It takes another half an hour for everyone to give farewells and handshakes until we meet again. Most are flying out this evening, which is par for the course. We’re not social friends, and they all have other careers they attend to when not acting as my advisors.
When the last board member leaves, my gaze turns to Andrew, who is stuffing the meeting materials into his backpack. The chief scientist for a major biotech firm and he still walks around with a ratty NorthFace backpack. While I’m in an expensive tailored suit, he’s happy in jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt, and some Vans, but I don’t give a fuck what he wears or how he transports documents. I only care that he’s in this company with Avril and me.
“Want to grab some dinner tonight?” I ask, and his head pops up. “I bet Avril is still here working. Let’s go grab some sushi.”
“Avril’s gone,” Andrew says and looks back down to the table to grab a small binder that he slips in his backpack. After he zips it up, he looks back to me and shocks me down to my bones. “She’s going back to The Wicked Horse tonight.”
“What?” My voice comes out slightly high-pitched from surprise at that statement.
Slinging his backpack over his shoulder and then shoving that hand into a jean pocket, he gives me a look that’s almost accusing. “You apparently created a monster.”
“I created a monster?”
“Well, the club created a monster,” Andrew mutters. “She went Friday, loved it so much that she went back Saturday. And she shot me a text a little bit ago to tell me she was going again tonight.”
“What the fuck?” I murmur as my gaze drifts off to the Vegas skyline lit up with a million sparkles.
“She invited me to go,” Andrew says, and my head snaps back to him.
“As in to be… with her at the club?” I ask for clarification. While I personally know that both Avril and Andrew had a good time Friday night, I never would have taken either one as repeat visitors. And while I know the way they stared at each other while they were fucking forged some type of new bond, I didn’t think it would extend any further.
Andrew shakes his head. “No, not like that. Just as friends, and to do our own thing.”
“Jesus,” I say in disbelief as I sink down into the closest chair to me. I stare blankly across the table.
“I’m worried about her,” Andrew says, and he appears in my line of sight by taking the chair opposite me.
“Why?” I ask hesitantly.
I figure that’s what they were talking about yesterday morning in his office because there was a seriously heavy vibe in the air when I opened the door. I knew that shared experience would have changed something, and I’ve been worried about it. I’ve also been replaying in my mind how fucking sexy it was watching them that night, and I know something’s changed within me, too.
I just don’t know what exactly.
“Is that club dangerous?” Andrew asks, refusing to answer my question.
I shake my head. “Not at all. Completely safe. Good security. There’s never been a problem to my knowledge.”
“I don’t like it,” Andrew says softly.
“Don’t like what?” I push at him. “The club itself or the fact you and Avril shared something intimate and it’s messing with your mind?”
His eyes narrow on me, as there’s enough confidence in my statement that I know what I’m talking about. “How do you know what we shared was intimate?”
“I was there… in a smaller private club. I saw you two on a video feed.”
“Fuck,” Andrew mutters as his gaze drops from mine. His embarrassment couldn’t be any clearer. “This is so fucking complicated.”
“How is Avril?” I ask. I can see Andrew’s bothered, but I want to know about Avril, since she’s the one I’ve always stepped up to the plate to protect as a woman. I don’t see her as lesser or weaker, but I do have an inherent need to make sure she’s looked after.
Always have for as long as I can remember.
Andrew’s gaze lifts back up to meet mine. His voice is flat. “She’s completely in love with that place. Went on about how liberating it was, and she found a new power or something like that. But I think she’s just wanting to even the score with Jamie.”
“She’s not like that,” I assert.
Andrew sighs. “Yeah… I know. It’s just easier to believe that rather than accept that she’s turned into a sex kitten or something overnight.”
And I see it.
Clear as day on his face.
The door has been cracked open, and Andrew is now looking at Avril in a completely different light. He wants her.
“Did you know that you and Avril both came at the same time Friday night?” I ask, and it gets the intended reaction I was driving for. His body jolts as his eyes narrow and his teeth grind together.
“Goddamn it, Dane,” Andrew growls. “You watched the entire thing? I thought you just meant you’d seen us walking through the club or something.”
I lean forward and tell my best friend the truth so he quits hiding from it and can deal with it. “I watched the two of you fuck other people while staring across that room at each other, and I did it while some chick was sucking my cock. I fucking blew my load right along with you two.”
And shit… just saying those words causes my dick to start to swell, because it was one of the hottest things I’d ever seen in my life.
“You were turned on by what you were watching,” I tell him softly but assuredly.
He stares back at me unblinkingly, but his jawline is tight with tension.
“I was turned on, too. You’d have to be dead not to be aroused by it.”
Through clenched teeth, Andrew says, “I never wanted to think of her that way.”
I lean forward on the table, clasping my hands to give him a pointed look. “Buddy… it was never my intention either. It’s why I was against the idea to begin with. But that ship has sailed.”
“So what?” Andrew says aggressively as he also leans forward, pressing his palms into the table. “I just put it out of my mind? Pretend it didn’t happen?”
“If that’s what you need to do,” I tell him with a nod. “Or… you accept it and move on.”
“Move on?”
I don’t answer right away so I can collect my thoughts. I have the power to settle Andrew down, or I have the power to make him consider something different. I choose to go different because I know Andrew. It will kill him to pretend because he’s the one with the biggest conscience of the three of us. He has to confront his guilt and realize there is nothing wrong with what he and Avril did that night.
I know I sure as fuck don’t feel guilty about it, although I am a little relieved that Avril seems to be taken with the club.
“Andrew… the three of us have the strongest base of a friendship that anyone could imagine,” I point out. “We’re business partners. We admire and respect one another. We support each other. While I really didn’t want Avril in that environment, mainly because she was fresh off a breakup, it’s done and I’m frankly a little glad. I’m glad you’ve both seen a part of my world that you knew about, but never really understood. But since Avril is going back, and inviting you, I think she understands it quite clearly. There is no wrong within that club. And I think she proved to you that she can leave that behind and step back into our normal routine outside of that place.”
With a huge sigh, Andrew scrubs his hands over his face. His gaze comes back to mine, and I can still see the warring within. “I hear you, and I’ll think on it. But thanks for talking to me about it. Knowing you’re not all that weirded out is a little stabilizing.”
This relieves me… the fact his stance is opening. I think he’s in for a world of hurt if he denies to himself that he wants Avril. He may not act on it, and probably won’t, but he can’t pretend it’s not there. That would not be good for anyone.
I give Andrew a confident smile so he won’t ever guess I have my own turmoil. While I’m not weirded out and don’t feel an ounce of guilt, I am most definitely feeling something. Thank fuck Andrew doesn’t ask me my exact feelings because I wouldn’t be able to lie to him.
God fucking help me… I want Avril, too.
While I know Andrew is probably going to go home by himself tonight, because he just doesn’t have it within him at this point to accept his feelings, there is no way in hell I’ll be able to stay away from The Wicked Horse knowing Avril’s going back.
I don’t intend to act on anything. At the most, I’ll watch from the anonymity of The Apartment. But I’m very much looking forward to watching Avril continue to expand her horizons.
CHAPTER 7
Avril
I don’t bother with much more than a cursory glance around at the people in The Social Room—the area just outside the entrance lobby of The Wicked Horse. While I’ve learned many things about myself over the last few days, one of the most enlightening is that I’m not a mingler.
The Social Room is where people come to engage in conversation, flirt, and have a cocktail before they get down to the business of what they really came here for. I’d observed many people in this room that first night, and what I realized is it’s crowded with those who aren’t sure what they want. It could be they’re nervous, or maybe they’re undecided.
But in reality, it’s for those who don’t have fearless initiative, and that’s something that I’ve never had a short supply of.
Or… it’s for people who are looking for their prey, I think as my eyes catch a tall figure standing at the end of the bar, and I realize it’s Dane.
He’s nursing what looks to be whiskey while his eyes sweep the room hungrily, no doubt looking for his next conquest.
Not that it would be much of a conquest. I can’t imagine any woman would ever say no to him. He’s even more gorgeous at thirty-nine than in his college days, although he still wears his dark hair a bit long and messy on top with that Tony Stark-esque goatee. The fact there’s a little silver in the beard at the corners of his mouth and at his temples only makes him sexier in my opinion.
I consider ignoring him, but then his eyes meet mine and his lips curl up in a smile of recognition. My stride falters. Before I know it, I’m heading his way. It’s probably necessary for us to have a talk if we’re going to be frequenting the same place to get our rocks off.
Dane gets the bartender’s attention as I approach. I know by the time I reach him, he’ll have ordered me a red wine.
“Fancy meeting you here,” I say as I put my clutch on the bar top, followed by my elbow as I turn to face Dane. There aren’t any stools at the bar, so as to encourage people to move around and engage.
Dane’s eyes travel down my body, and I have to wonder what he thinks of the slinky sapphire dress that comes barely past my ass and has a plunging neckline. He’s only ever really seen me in business suits at the office and jeans on the weekends, minus an occasional evening or cocktail dress for a formal event.
When his eyes meet mine, he says, “Nice dress.”
“You like?” I ask cheekily as I do a slow spin.
I get immense satisfaction over the darkening of his hazel eyes as I come around to face him, as he’s just found out there’s virtually no back to the dress.
“Look at you, Avril,” he says in a husky, appreciative voice. “You’ve fucking blossomed.”
I can’t help but laugh and smack him on the chest before I chide him. “Don’t make me self-conscious. You know this isn’t my usual fashion statement.”
“You’re definitely making a statement,” he commends, and the resulting flush of pleasure from the appreciation in his tone surprises me. I’ve never cared before if Dane or Andrew thought me attractive.
Okay, wait.
That’s not exactly true. There was a time when I’d first met Dane our freshman year that I was as boggled by his looks and charm as all the other freshmen at Berkley. Make that sophomores, juniors, and seniors as well. When we’d been paired as lab partners that first semester, I could barely talk to him because I was afraid I’d start drooling.
But then I quickly realized that I wasn’t the type of woman who attracted Dane. While he was most definitely the kind that pushed all my buttons, I wasn’t sexy, buxom, or sexualized enough for what he wanted.
That ultimately all worked out because from a lab partnership was born a friendship that became quite strong. We met Andrew that first semester in a science club we’d joined, and well… the rest is history.
The bartender brings my wine, and I take a sip before I look back up to Dane. “Did Andrew tell you I was coming back here?”
Dane nods, and I can tell by the look on his face that Andrew probably also spilled his worries to Dane.
“Are you going to try to talk me out of this or make me feel bad about it?” I challenge.
I get a quick, easy laugh in return as he shakes his head. “Avril… you have my full support to be here.”
“You didn’t want me here at first,” I remind him. He at least has the grace to look chagrined.
Leaning toward me, Dane gives me an understanding look. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to exclude you. I wasn’t sure it was the right thing for you so soon after breaking up with Jamie, but it appears I was wrong.”
The way my shoulders drop in relaxation, I hadn’t realized I was so tense or how important his answer would be to me. I let out a breath of relief and then admit to Dane, “Andrew’s a little bent out of shape about it.”
Dane nodded. “He is, but I told him to accept it and move on.”
“He swore it wouldn’t change our friendship,” I muse as I run my finger over the top of my wineglass.
“It totally changed the friendship, Av,” Dane says, and I blink in surprise as my eyes come back to his.
“What do you mean?” I ask, the fear in my voice evident. I knew it had changed, but I’m afraid Dane knows something more than I do.
“Relax,” he says soothingly as his hand comes to rest on my shoulder, which is bare except for a tiny spaghetti strap. His warm palm on my skin makes me shiver. “The friendship is intact and strong. But there’s no unseeing what he saw that night.”
