Page 5 of The Bitter Rival

Breaking from my mental ramblings, I look back down at my phone’s Uber app.What the hell? The car is driving away from here?I look at the time and consider whether the two intoxicated young ladies may have inadvertently taken my ride. Hell, they probably needed it more than I did. Maybe I’ll just call a cab. I move back from the curb toward the overhead light, allowing me to search for the number.

After hunting on my phone briefly, I hit the call button for Yellow cab and look up to see one tall, dark, and incredibly handsome shark at the curb in front of me. His back is to me, standing with his feet shoulder-width apart as if he’s awaiting a ride as well. My mind briefly taunts me. I could always ask if I could catch a ride home.What the hell, Bella? Have you lost your mind?

Taking him in unawares, he’s wearing dark gray dress slacks and a matching suit jacket. I can’t see his ass, but the broad expanse of his shoulders makes my mouth water. He’s got the most stunning inky hair. It’s a little longer on top, and I can almost imagine how soft it would feel sliding through my fingertips.

Speedily, a sleek black town car pulls up to the curb. I watch as he looks up from his phone and strides casually toward the back door. As he reaches for the handle, he appears to catch sight of something out of the corner of his eye. I observe as he turns his head briefly in my direction and our eyes connect. There’s instant recognition, instant heat. I have to gulp to propel the breath that’s currently lodged in my throat to move. It’s at this moment I realize I’ve completely forgotten about my call. While I’m still holding the phone to my ear, it seems they disconnected when I turned into a vegetative zombie, staring at the man candy in front of me. As I end the useless phone call and bring the device down from my ear, I stand wordless as this god of a man walks toward me.

“You’re still here?” His warm, scotch scented breath coats me with his greeting as he towers over me. His expression is one of hopeful delight. I’m sure this is my libido’s wishful thinking.

“I am.”

“Can I offer you a ride?” As he grins down at me, I suddenly hear the theme from the movieJaws.

“Um, no. I don’t think so,” I reply, unsure if he’ll believe my rejection any more than I do.

“Which is it, good girl? You don’t want to bring me back to your place, or you don’t want me?” he asks while reaching out to stroke my jaw with his thumb.

All of a sudden my mouth is parched. Maybe I need to go back inside for another drink? What the hell am I doing?

“The first one.” I feel my voice crackle in the air between us.

He steeples his left brow at me, a slight grin curling his mouth. “So, you do want me?”This cocky son of a gun.

“You keep talking like that, and all bets are off,” I toss back.

I watch as he lifts his hands in surrender. “Then, my place it is. Shall we?” He flashes his gorgeous smile at me as he extends his arm toward the awaiting car. I peer up into his sparkling deep blue eyes. His hypnotic dimple seems to soften at my hesitation.

Steeling my nerves, I take in a fortifying breath and walk past him toward the sexy, black town car. I cannot believe I’m doing this. Should I text Bailey and let her know where I am? She’d probably just blow up my phone. I’m a big girl. I can handle this.This isn’t the first one-night stand you’ve had, Bella. Grow up.

But this guy is all kinds of different, and I know it. The other men have all been incredibly average. When those transgressions occurred, I was drunk and needy or just plain lonely. They were always disappointing afterward. Like breaking your diet for French fries or a sweet treat when you’re starving, just to reconcile what a poor choice it was before you’ve finished the last bite. So long as this meal satisfies, I’ll give myself a break. I deserve a hot night. I’m a responsible adult. I’m not hurting anyone.

Climbing into the back seat of the car, I watch as the door closes behind me and see him through the rear window as he approaches the opposite door. Sliding into the seat beside me, he raps his fingertips on the glass partition between the driver and us.

“Yes, sir?”

“Home, Charlie.”

“Home, sir?”

I watch as he clears his throat, looking a bit flustered all of a sudden. “Yes, home,” he says, with a bit of a bite to it. Wanting to avoid staring at him, I peer out the window as the car pulls forward.

We continue en route to ‘home’ with no words exchanged. It’s hard to believe this is the same charismatic man I fell prey to moments ago. The silence is maddening.What is he thinking?

Sebastian

What am I thinking?Home? I never take anyone home. Never. I’ve made a point of always staying at their place or a hotel, so I can leave as soon as I’m good and ready. What’s more, now I have to contend with the awkward morning after, as I doubt she’ll appreciate me throwing her out immediately after I’ve fucked her. Hell, I don’t know if I can relax enough to fall asleep with a woman. Plus, now this chick will know where I live. I should’ve had another scotch. Or maybe that’s what’s gotten me into this predicament.

But that wasn’t it, and I knew it. I wasn’t drunk. There was something about this woman that made me act out of impulse. I didn’t want her to walk away.

I’ll be the first to admit, I haven’t made the best choices when it comes to women. Beyond sleeping with my best friend’s ex-wife, I’ve often succumbed to lust in inappropriate places. It was not uncommon to take a willing partner in a dark corner, a bathroom, or in an alley by the exit door of an establishment back in the day. I’ve grown a lot. Well, I’ve grown to understand I cannot risk my job and professional reputation by continuing to act in a manner unbecoming of a highly sought after, highly paid reconstructive hand surgeon.

While the choice in the setting has been narrowed down to locales much more private, I’ve still taken a no-questions-asked approach to the women with whom I bed. I don’t provide my personal information and have little interest in theirs. It’s one night, for fuck’s sake. They’re all big girls. If they’re married or living with someone, it’s none of my concern so long as their significant other doesn’t come after me. Or they aren’t looking for a threesome. Not really into that kink.

The two things I always insist on are anonymity and a condom. Those are an absolute must. But apparently, the voice of reason is slipping tonight, as I’m bringing this woman into my private domain.

Looking in her direction, it’s apparent she’s as wary about this evening as I am. She’s been studying the town’s terrain through that window since we pulled away from the club. Normally, I’d have my hands down her panties by now. But my anxiety about my first co-ed sleepover, revealing my home, and with it, my obvious wealth, and not to mention, the morning after awkwardness is starting to tear a hole in my mojo.

“Um, you can drop me off up here, and I can get a cab or something if you’ve changed your mind.” I notice she’s pointing out the window toward a darkened street corner, her face expressionless.

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