Page 22 of Out of Bounds

“Everything alright, Effie?”

“Don’t fucking call me that!” she yelled, popping off of her barstool. She wobbled, trying to get her balance, her high heels working against her as the barstool toppled over from her movements. “All y’all are just the same.”

“Whoa there,” he said, picking up the stool. She stumbled a bit, glaring at him as she did so, like she was getting ready to spew all sorts of venom.

“Y’all think just because you have a dick and I don’t that I’m not good enough. Newsflash—I have a brain. I don’t think with my tits,” she said, a little louder than she probably intended, grabbing ahold of her breasts and squeezing lightly. Gunnar couldn’t help but stare at her like this, perfect rack literally in hand, and wonder what they would feel like in his own grasp. “I am a Sutherland, damn it!”

“You’re drunk is what you are,” he told her. “I think we should get you back upstairs.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you!”

“I beg to differ.”

In one swift motion, he scooped her up, carrying her like a groom does a bride, her long legs draped over his arm. He signaled to the bartender that he’d be back, and the bartender nodded in response. He made his way to the elevators, hoping he didn’t have to wait too long.

“Put me down,” Felicity said, trying to wiggle her way out of his arms.

“No can do, Effie.”

The elevator thankfully arrived quickly, and with no one else getting on, it was a straight shot up to their floor. Once inside the room, he gingerly set her on the bed, hoping she didn’t fall over. Popping right back up, she stumbled again on her high heels, the look on her face leaving him unsure of exactly what was coming next. All he knew was that she was still pissed off.

“You’re not the fucking boss of me!” she hollered.

“Never said I was,” he replied, easing her back onto the bed. Kneeling down in front of her, he removed her shoes, careful to move them out of reach so she couldn’t stab him with one of those very pointy heels.

“But you think it. Everyone does. No one ever sees me, the work I do.”

“We see you. You’re kinda hard to miss, Effie.”

“No, you don’t! Not the real me! No one sees how hard I work. ‘Like the Phoenix rising from the Ashes, so did Atlanta…’ yadda yadda, that was me! I came up with that. I named the team. I thought up the logo, I picked out the electric blue color for the phoenix logo, everything! Not Tripp. Tripp spent years wasting away at the beach, while I was here, working my ass off, putting in the hours. But was I even asked if I would be interested in running the team? No. My father just automatically gave it to him—even though he turned it down multiple times! Then he shows back up and Big D just hands him the whole fucking company!”

Gunnar sat down next to Felicity on the bed, unsure of what to do. Her eyes were glassy again, like she was fighting back tears as she ranted. He’d known that Dalton had only recently returned to the team’s parent company, after spending the last few years working at the Indigo Royal Resort in St. Thomas, and he knew there had to be a lot more to the story, but he had never asked. Not that now was the time to ask either. Fighting the urge to wrap his arms around her, he ran his palms up and down his thighs. She had felt so good curled up against him this morning, and he longed to feel that again now—longed to do anything that would fix how upset she was.

Felicity pushed up from the bed, her arms flailing as she stumbled over to the closet.

“Must have been nice, hanging out in the sun. I wouldn’t know, because I was working on my master’s in marketing. Which,” she said, spinning around as she unzipped her dress, “is my second master’s. I already had my MBA. But…didn’t matter. Because you know what I got from it? Ignored! I got ignored!”

Her dress dropped to the ground, and Gunnar felt his eyes go wide, drinking in her matching bra and panties. The baby blue fabric sat on her beautiful, feminine form, highlighting all her subtle curves. Her long legs led to hips that Gunnar wanted to hold on to and a long, lean torso. If he had thought her breasts looked perfect before, they looked even more so sitting in the cups of her bra, the swells peeking out just enough to make his dick hard.

“No one is ignoring you,” he said, magically finding his words.

“Oh yeah? None of you had any trouble ignoring me once Jonah started speaking this morning. My ideas were totally forgotten.”

“I rather liked your idea,” he told her.

“Sure you did,” she snapped, turning away from him. She stumbled again, and he flew off the bed, catching her by the waist. Her skin was warm to the touch, inviting him to explore more. Reminding himself that she was drunk—and his boss—he let go of her, missing the feel of her already. He diverted his gaze as she removed her bra, finding her wearing her pajamas when he looked back a second later.

A small hiccup escaped from her lips, her hand flying over her mouth as the flush of embarrassment started to color her face. The urge to comfort her arose in him again, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to be able to fight it. He’d never been able to handle it when Anya cried.

“Let’s get you into bed,” he told her, putting an arm around her shoulder and guiding her to the bed. “I think what you need right now is sleep.”

“Why does no one see me, Gunnar?” she asked, the tears she’d been fighting finally making their appearance. “Why am I not good enough? What do I have to do to make him see me?”

“Who?” he asked. He’d been doing so well keeping up with her ramblings, or so he thought, but now he was lost. Who didn’t think she was good enough? She was as capable as anyone he’d ever met—more so with the way she didn’t take shit from anyone. Was she a bitch? Sure, but did that matter if she was getting the job done?

“My father! Tripp! Everyone!” Felicity climbed into the bed, and Gunnar pulled the covers up over her. The sad, almost insecure look on her face made his heart squeeze. He’d planned to head back down to the bar to settle whatever her tab was and finally get that drink of his own, but now, leaving her didn’t seem like a good idea. This beautiful, normally overconfident woman was showing him a side he was sure no one ever got to see.

Stripping down to his boxer briefs, Gunnar climbed into bed and pulled Felicity close. Her warmth was oddly soothing as she leaned into him, allowing him to wrap himself around her. His mind flashed to his own daughter and their own lack of relationship. As soon as they got back to Atlanta, he was going to fix that. He didn’t want Talia to ever feel the way Felicity was feeling right now.