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“No, his HR department probably did. He’s too rich. He doesn’t spend his free time planning corporate retreats. It probably wasn’t even his idea. He probably moaned and groaned about having to foot the bill for it until someone pointed out it’s a tax write off anyway.”
Bonnie rolls her eyes at me and shakes her head. I purposely keep a neutral face because I can’t very well tell her that I know what Raiden does in his free time. That would mean I would then have to elaborate about drinking a few drinks and getting buzzed and having strange, wild desires I obviously couldn’t control and literally leaping into the guy’s lap. We might have had all our clothes on, but I know what his cock feels like. I also can’t erase the sensations that are now branded into my skin, of Raiden’s fingers brushing along my soaking wet panties. Of the pad of his thumb hitting my clit.
Actually, it never happened. That’s what I’ve decided. I’ve washed the whole incident from my mind. Blocked and locked away, erased completely. I never went to Raiden’s house, I never let my guard down, and I never let him under my skin. I most certainly never did anything after that.
It’s better to pretend it never happened because I still can’t figure out why it happened. Sure, the guy is attractive. I’ll admit it because it’s a fact, and facts should just be put out there, but I’ve noticed that a lot of people are good looking before, and I’ve never been tempted to jump them. I’ve never felt anything half as close to what I felt when I was sitting next to Raiden.
I can’t blame it on the whisky because I wasn’t technically that buzzed. If I believed in the supernatural, I’d say something possessed my body for a brief time and made me get kinky with my ex-stepbrother. Good. Freaking. Potatoes. Maybe it was a crazy surge of hormones. Pheromones. A crazy push from my biological clock or my female plumbing taking over my brain and shorting out all the important parts. Whatever it was, it was like a blackout. Thank goodness Raiden brought me to my senses with the incident. The incident I will never think or speak about. Because it definitely did not happen.
I was so shocked by the thing that did not happen that I wasn’t even able to tell him off properly.
What. A. Freaking. Mess. My. Life. Has. Turned. Into.
And it’s all Rancid Rotten Ruthless Raiden’s fault.
“Hello? Anyone home? Any more protests about going to a wonderful, amazing resort and doing some fishing and probably all sorts of exciting wilderness activities, all for free?”
“I’ll have to find someone to feed my cats while I’m gone,” I mutter. “Wonder if they’ll pay for that too.”
“Drop them off at your dad’s. He’d probably be happy to take them.”
“Not likely. My dad hates my cats. Pudding goes nuts when she has to go into a carrier, and she won’t forgive me for weeks after. She’d probably pee on everything he owns.”
“Great. Nothing like the fresh smell of cat piss in the morning to get you up and going.”
“Gross.” Despite myself, a small smile crawls over my lips.
“There it is,” Bonnie grins. Then, because she’s Bonnie, and she’s not like anyone else I know, which is why I like her a lot, she fist-pumps the air and lets out a whoop of excitement. “Colorado, bitches! Bring it on!”
I can’t say I’m as excited as she is. Honestly, I can say I’m downright dreading this. I know this was all Raiden’s doing, and I know it’s his way to get to me. I’d say to get back at me, but I’m not sure what he’d be getting back at me for. I haven’t technically given my notice, so I haven’t broken my word. I can’t even remember what the deal was when we played our rock, paper, scissors game.
Raiden said he wouldn’t blackmail me, but he probably spent all weekend organizing this—or paying someone else to put it all together—just to prove to me that he can. He’s flexing his muscles—his impressive, manly, tanned, striated, and veiny muscles interlaced with the dark tattoo designs. Yes, I noticed. He was wearing a t-shirt. The damn things were practically in my face.
Whatever. I still know all about the incident that never happened and shall never be spoken of again. I still have that on him even though bringing it up again would nearly kill me. I might die of embarrassment, and it would mean I’d have to admit to getting frisky with him.
Frisky with my ex-stepbrother who is now my boss. Great.
So, I will never admit it because it’s unadmittable. It’s wrong. Gross. Bad. Just…just…seriously effed up.
Colorado can’t be a good thing.
Because I know, without a doubt, Raiden will be there.
