Page 44 of 14 Night Tryst

“Of course, Mr. Peirce.” I’m starting to really loathe people calling me that. Every time I hear my name it makes me think of her, and I shouldn’t be thinking about her. “I’ve arranged for the dry cleaners to deliver your tuxedo to your house later this afternoon.”

“Thank you, Emily. You can take the afternoon off. Enjoy your weekend.”

“Thank you, Mr. Peirce.” I press my molars together as I walk toward the elevators and shake off the agitation that flares deep in my gut when I hear Savi’s silken voice in my head.

Watching her leave last night with those teary eyes, knowing I’ll never get to hold her, taste her luscious lips, or feel her silky flesh under my fingertips felt like a continual sucker punch to the gut. Just hearing her angelic voice on the phone is enough to have me doubt my decision to walk away.

Then again, having Trent under the same roof as me again and willing to work on rebuilding our relationship as father and son is something I’ve been waiting for since he was in his pre-teens.

There is never a question of who I would choose, but letting go of Savi is no easy feat either, because like the old fool I am I’ve gone and fallen for her, hook, line and fucking sinker.

If she’s going to be at my house at noon, I should have done the right thing and avoided her until this evening. But the voice in my head is telling me to go home under the guise of overlooking to make sure everything is on point for the event this evening, but really, it’s to be close to her in hopes it would ease some of this weightiness on my chest.

It’s heartrending to think, but if the only way I can love her is in silence and from afar, I’ll do that, even if I’ll never get to say those words to her face or hear her say them back to me.

Trent is also home and that might be partly the reason I want to be there, because as much as I love my son, there’s a selfish part of me that doesn’t want him to have her either.

When I get home, I find my driveway crammed with trucks and people walking in and out of my house carrying various boxes and equipment. With a sigh, I back out of the driveway and drive toward the rear of the house where the garage is and park my Ferrari in there.

Killing the engine I sit there for a minute, mentally preparing myself to see Savi and telling myself over and over again to keep my dick under lock and key because I know the moment I see her, and I look into those gorgeous amber eyes I’m going to disregard all the reasons I walked away in the first place.

Heaving a frustrated groan, I rub my hands over my face tiredly and get out of the car. I need a hot shower, a shot of whisky and a goddamn nap.

I enter the house from the back entrance through the garage and I’m immediately hit with undistinguishable chatter, footsteps and equipment being shuffled through the front door.

I head for the winding stairs that lead to the second floor before anyone notices me but I only make it two steps up when I hear Suzan’s voice. “Oh, Logan. I wasn’t expecting you to be home?”

Cursing under my breath, I slap a smile on my face and turn to face her. “Hi Suzan, I’ll be working from home for the rest of the afternoon. Please, do your thing and continue as if I’m not here.”

Suzan smiles brightly and saunters over to me, brushing her long wavy brown hair over her shoulder she fixes me that coquettish look that makes my balls instantly want to recoil back up into my body. “While I have you…” she trails off, curling her fingers around my arm and tugging me down the steps. I scowl at her hand wrapped snugly around my bicep and follow her through the foyer. “I have a couple of things I need to run by you.”

“Suzan, you’re the expert and I trust your judgment, so you’re free to make…” The rest of my sentence is lost on me when I see Savannah bent over the black marble kitchen island. My eyes follow the curve of her back toward her sensational ass clad in a pair of tight fit jeans. She’s got a pen clinched between her lips while she converses with whom I’m assuming is the head chef—who is paying more attention to her cleavage than whatever it is she’s showing him on the piece of paper in front of them.

Upon hearing Suzan’s heels clacking on the porcelain tiles Savi looks over and goes still when she notices me. Our eyes meet across the room, and she slowly straightens as we approach. Her eyes drop to where Suzan has her arm hooked in mine.

“Hello, Mr. Peirce.” Savi greets me amiably. My body immediately heats upon hearing her say my name.

“Hi, Savannah, nice to see you again.” I say and turning my gaze to the chef who is standing a little too close to her for my liking.

“Logan, this is Felipe Georgiou. He’s the head chef that has created the menu for the delightful food you’ll be serving this evening.” I hold my hand out to him and he takes it.

“Nice to meet you, Felipe. I’ve heard some great things from Suzan about your food and the menu sounds fantastic so I’m really looking forward to tasting what you’ve put together for us this evening.” Felipe winces when I give his hand a firm squeeze and when I let go he flexes his hand by his side.

Touch her and I’ll make sure you never cook again.

Savi and I share one last look as Suzan pulls me away toward the rear of the house. While she’s jabbering on, I look over my shoulder and find Savi is still watching me. God, Savi, I wish I was kissing you instead of missing you right now.

After Suzan is done wasting my time discussing the table placements out in the garden I excuse myself and haul my ass into my home study for a couple of hours to avoid seeing Savannah again.

Did I manage to focus long enough to get any work done? Fuck no. I spent the three hours staring at the door hoping she will walk in or picturing where and which position I would fuck her in this room.

I’m not a jealous guy. I never have been with any of the women I dated—even April—but seeing Savi close to another man knowing she will never be mine again has my blood boiling; then again, I’ve also never wanted anyone the way I want her. I have this unrelenting hunger for her that I can’t seem to appease and it’s driving me fucking crazy.

Closing my eyes, I lay my head back against the headrest of my chair and pray for a moments peace from the war that is going on in my head. If Trent hadn’t shown up when he did Savi and I would have had one last night together tonight, just as I promised her.

Fuck, it completely slipped my mind to tell Toby that we’re no longer going to need him tonight. Which is a darn shame, because I was really looking forward to making her fantasy of being shared a reality.

Toby is a buddy of mine. He and I met some years ago in New York when I was newly divorced and in desperate need to burn some serious steam after nine fucking months of battling with April. We wound up at the same ‘gentleman’s club’ and like me he only just got divorced himself and needed an outlet, so we partied together. I spent a good six months boozing it up and fucking every girl that took my interest in every major city from Vegas to London. I can’t say I’m proud of the shit I did back then, but I do strongly believe it helped me to let go of the resentment and bitterness I was holding inside for the duration of my marriage to April.

---