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AXEL
Days churned by in an irritating blur of everything but giving in to my basest desires.
I’d always had a hard time saying no, especially when it came to women who were begging me to fill their pussies with my cock. But I had to make an exception for Cora. I had to draw a linesomewhere.
Since Cora had reentered my life, things were not going well. I’d given into too much. Fuck, I’d hate-fingered her in the back hallway of La Fève. I deserved an award for maximizing how much I’d tasted of that women under the guise of denying her what she wanted.
It had to stop. She was on my schedule again—to talk aboutthe building plans—and I was so tired of wanting her, acting like I didn’t, hating her again, only to repeat the whole cycle.
I did hate her. As much as I still loved her.
And that was where the fissure lay, the gulf that threatened to swallow me whole every time we came too close.
We were slated to meet at the building on Wednesday afternoon, which meant I was sitting in the back of the Escalade on Tenth Avenue, forbidding myself from looking, breathing, sniffing, or sneezing too close to her. God forbid my lips got the memo that hers were within a ten-foot radius. My fingers were already planning a revolt to inch their way back into her panties. And my cock? Forget about it. I’d been hard since I’d noticed her name on my schedule that morning.
Truth was, I didn’t know how much longer I could put up the I-hate-Cora front. And I worried that with yet another meeting,just the two of us, it would crumble altogether.
While I waited for her, I dicked around in my investment app. Scooped up another few thousand shares of Margulis Realty. Then I circled back to a crowdfunding plea I’d seen an old friend in Kentucky post on his social media account. His eight-year-old daughter was in the hospital after a car crash with a drunk driver. I put up his entire asking amount plus a few thousand extra and drew a deep breath.
My phone buzzed.
CORA: Just pulling up. Meet you at the front.
My stomach pitched to my feet, and I pinched the bridge of my nose. Here went nothing.
Her classy sedan pulled up to the loading zone a moment later, four-ways flashing. I alternately gripped and released the back door handle, prepping myself for what needed to be our final encounter.
I didn’t know how much more of this twisted cat-and-mouse game I could play. While fun and sexy as hell, it came at a steep price. I’d spent all of Sunday in bed with a hangover because I’d picked my favorite numbing agent of choice, whiskey, for the rest of that delightful rooftop SoHo party. I hadn’t even bothered to get laid that night. Cora had already stained me. Warped me. Penetrated the barriers of my heart. My brothers were right to be worried about me.
Now I was worried about me.
And once we stepped into that building together, I didn’t know what would happen.
I thanked Harry and hopped out of the backseat, shutting the back door gently. The sidewalk was calm, which meant only a slow stream of passersby at this hour of the morning. The scent of coffee wafted from down the street on a humid breeze, joined by the shouts of some people wandering nearby. Cora stepped out of her car a moment later, wearing a fitted cream dress. A teal scarf was draped over an arm, along with her handbag.
And there it went. The internal explosion. The deafening roar of my heart opening up, wanting to bring her into my arms, to eliminate every inch of space between us until we could fuse and heal and pick up where we left off. I straightened my back, rolling my neck in a slow circle.Stay strong.
But it was hard to stay strong against her mulberry grin and that glossy dark hair pulled up into a sleek high ponytail. When she stood in front of me, looking picture-perfect and every bit the upper-class professional, I caught the mischief in her gaze.
That sparkle was reserved for me.
“Long time no see,” she said.
I hated that she was still so wry. So whip smart. So fucking perfect. “I’d say the same about your pussy but that’s not true.”
A genuine laugh rolled out of her, husky sweet and angelic. She swatted at my chest, and I caught her wrist.
“Hands to yourself, Cora,” I warned. But it was too late. I’d broken the rules already. Not only was she too close, I’d touched her. All bets were off. She pursed her lips.
“What can I say? Old habits die hard.”
But I didn’t release her wrist right away. The scarf over her arm slid back to her elbow, revealing mottled bruising on her forearm. My gaze fastened there as I tried to figure out what I was seeing.
Cora snapped her hand out of my grip and spun on her heel. “Let’s go inside.”
I followed her perfect figure at a safe distance. We were always dancing on the edge of a slippery slope, and I didn’t want to be the one who pushed us down.
Cora fished the building keys out of her handbag and spent a moment turning the lock. Once the door was opened, we walked slowly through the expansive foyer, our footsteps on the dusty floor echoing in the empty space.
