Beautiful Bastard(35)
“Wow, top five percent of your class at Northwestern. Nice!” Joel said and then looked over at me. “Bet you’re glad to have someone so amazing working under you, huh?”
Chloe coughed slightly, bringing her napkin up from her lap to cover her mouth. I smiled as I quickly glanced over to her and then back to Joel. “Yes, it’s absolutely amazing having Miss Mills under me. She always gets the job done.”
“Aw, Bennett. That is so sweet of you,” my mother gushed, and I watched Miss Mills’ face begin to redden. My smile vanished when I felt her foot at my crotch. Then, ever so slightly, she pressed against my erection. Holy shit. Now it was my turn to cough, choking on my gimlet.
“Are you all right, Mr. Ryan?” she asked in feigned concern and I nodded, glaring daggers at her. She shrugged and then looked back over to Joel. “So how about you? Are you from Chicago?”
With the toe of her shoe, she continued to rub gently against me and I tried to keep control of my breathing, keep my expression neutral. As Joel began telling her about his childhood and going to school with us, finally talking about his successful accounting business, I watched her expression morph from one of feigned interest to one of genuine intrigue.
Hell no.
I slid my left hand under the tablecloth and met the skin of her ankle, watching her jump slightly at the contact. I moved my fingertips in light circles, ran my thumb along the arch of her foot, feeling increasingly smug when she had to ask Joel to repeat himself.
But then he mentioned he’d like to meet her for lunch sometime this week. My hand came to cover the top of her foot, pressing it more firmly against my cock.
She smirked.
“You could spare her for a lunch break, couldn’t you, Bennett?” Joel asked with a cheerful smile, his arm resting over the back of Chloe’s chair. It took everything I had not to reach across the table and rip that arm from his body.
“Oh, speaking of lunch dates, Bennett,” Mina interrupted, tapping my arm with her hand. “You remember my friend Megan? You met her last month at the house. Midtwenties, my height, blond hair, blue eyes. Anyway, she asked for your number. You interested?”
I glanced back over to Chloe when I felt the tendons in her foot tighten, and watched her swallow slowly as she waited for my answer. “Sure. You know I prefer blondes. Might make for a nice change of scenery.”
I had to restrain from yelling out as her heel dug down and pinned my balls to my chair. Holding them there for a moment, she lifted the napkin from her lap and dabbed at her mouth. “Excuse me, I need to use the ladies’ room.”
Once she was in the house, my entire family scowled at me.
“Bennett,” Dad hissed. “I thought we talked about this.”
I grabbed my glass and brought it to my lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Bennett,” my mother added, “I think you should go apologize.”
“For what?” I asked, setting down my drink a little too roughly.
“Ben!” my father said sharply, leaving no room for argument.
I tossed my napkin onto my plate and pushed away from the table. I stormed through the house, searching the bathrooms on the first two floors, until finally reaching the third floor, where the bathroom door was closed.
Standing outside, my hand resting on the knob, I debated with myself. If I went in there, what would happen? There was only one thing I was interested in, and it sure as hell wasn’t apologizing. I thought about knocking but knew for a fact she wouldn’t invite me in. I listened carefully, waiting for any noise or sign of movement from inside. Nothing. Finally, I turned the knob, surprised to find it unlocked.
I’d only been in this bathroom a few times since my mother had remodeled it. It was a beautiful, modern room with a custom-built marble counter and a wide mirror covering one wall. Above the vanity table was a small window that overlooked the patio and grounds below. She was sitting on the padded bench in front of the table, staring out at the sky.
“Here to grovel?” she asked. She took the cap off her lipstick, which she carefully applied to her lips.
“I was sent to check on your delicate petal feelings.” I reached behind me to turn the lock on the bathroom door, the audible click ringing in the silent room.
She laughed, meeting my eyes in the mirror. She looked completely composed, but I could see the rise and fall of her chest; she was every bit as worked up as I was.
“I assure you, I’m fine.” She put the cap back on her lipstick and shoved it into her purse. She stood and started to move past me to the door. “I’m used to you being a prick. But Joel seems nice. I should get back downstairs.”