Rebel Heir (Rush Series Duet #1)(41)

Rush arched a brow. “Fuck buddies?”

I pinched my come-fuck-me red painted lips shut and nodded.

“You only want to fuck me then? Nothing more?”

I nodded.

“I see.” He stared at me. “Let me get this straight…so we’re clear. You don’t want to date me?”

“No.”

“But you want to fuck me?”

“Yes.”

“So I could say…pop over to your place after work anytime I wanted and maybe eat you out?”

I swallowed. “Yes.”

“And maybe sometimes you’d give me a blow job.”

“Sure.”

“And I could leave after sex was over? No snuggling or niceties required?”

“That’s right.”

His damn face was so stoic; I had no clue what was going on in that head of his. After another minute-long, intense stare that I almost crumbled under, he walked back behind his desk and took a seat.

“How long do I have?”

“Pardon?”

“To decide and give you my answer to your proposal.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t thought that far. But I couldn’t torture myself forever. I straightened my spine. “By the end of the night.”

Rush picked up a pen and pulled a piece of paper from a neat pile on the corner of his desk. Beginning to read, he grumbled without looking up. “Go back to fucking work, Gia.”





The rest of that night was tense, to say the least.

I’d catch Rush staring at me while I worked. He wasn’t flirting or anything. In fact, he looked more pissed as the night wore on. It was impossible to know what he was thinking.

Unable to concentrate, I was making mistakes left and right, forgetting to bring menus to the table or leading people to the wrong sections—all of this, of course, under Rush’s watchful eye.

The realization of what I’d done was starting to hit me. Why had I gotten dressed up like this? The man had officially driven me to act crazy. I’d made a fool of myself in front of him—thrown myself at him. That was never the answer to getting a man to want you. That was the opposite of what someone should do.

I’d gotten myself glammed up, made myself look like a slut, even though, deep down, I knew his attraction to me was never the issue; it was that he didn’t want to be with me. Period. He liked messing with me, flirting with me, pushing the limits. But he didn’t actually want to pull the trigger. If he did, it would have happened by now. I had mistaken his alpha male need to protect me for serious interest. I was dead wrong. The man had issues, and I was done with being one of them.

At one point, with about an hour left until closing, Rush brushed by me and said, “Come to my office after your shift.” He walked away before I could respond, leaving the musky scent of cigarettes and cologne in his wake.

Great. This was it. This was going to be the point where he gave me all of the reasons why he didn’t want to pursue anything with me.

He knew that I wasn’t the sex-only type. We’d talked about that very fact, for Christ’s sake. There was no tricking him.

Besides, why would he bother with someone who was emotionally needy when he had beautiful women falling at his feet all of the time, ones who truly only wanted the same thing he did? Just sex, not love.

You’re such a fool, Gia.

After my shift ended, I kept putting off going to his office. He’d disappeared from the main area, so I assumed he might have been waiting for me back there.

Maybe I’d ditch him and just go home. After all, I had a functioning car parked right outside now, thanks to him. There was no reason I had to put myself through the agony of hearing his rejection.

I kept stalling until he finally marched down to the hostess area, looking more pissed-off than ever.

“We closed a half-hour ago. I thought I told you to meet me in my office. I’ve been waiting there for you.”

Organizing some menus and no longer looking him in the eye, I said, “Yeah, well, I don’t have to jump just because you tell me to.”

“Gia…” he barked. When I looked up, his eyes seared into mine. “Get your ass in my office.”

Rush stormed away, and I gave in, following him with my heart pounding.

After shutting the door behind me, I folded my arms. “Okay, what?”

Rush sat down and kicked his feet up on the desk. He began tapping a pen repeatedly before saying, “I’ve been thinking about what you proposed earlier, and I don’t think it’s a good idea. I—”

“Stop!” I yelled. I was losing it. “Just stop! I don’t need to hear this, okay? I already know what you’re going to say, that you don’t believe I really meant what I said about being friends with benefits. You’ll never view me as a fuck buddy. Yada Yada. Please spare me. I don’t need to sit through the explanation.”

His rolling chair banged against the back wall as he suddenly got up. After marching toward where I was standing, he stopped about a foot away from me. “Will you let me finish?”

I backed away from him toward the door. “No. I don’t want to talk about it. I acted like a fool, throwing myself at you, and it never should’ve happened. You’re right. I’m not the type of girl for you. I have dignity and self-respect, and I want more—so much more than to be your fuck toy. I don’t care how attractive you are with all of that mysterious, bad-boy shit you have going on. In the end, you’re a man who wants none of the same things that I do out of life.”