Corrupt Desires Page 3

  The laugh-track on the show kicked off just as the dog ran away with its owner’s pants, and Phee found herself smiling. Half-drunk, and heading for plastered as she pushed off the couch towards the whiskey on the kitchen counter. One of the good habits her grandfather had left her with was having a decent taste in what to drink, and she had a bottle for every occasion. One for unwinding in the evening, a slightly better one for a bad day, and a very nice bottle that she only opened on really good days, or really, really bad days. The last time she’d opened that bottle had been the day her grandparents had died. Pop would have approved.

  She’d started with a glass from the slightly better one, but now she poured from the everyday-whiskey bottle. Looking out the gap in her curtains, she sighed. Even on the top floor, the fog was an inescapable wall outside her windows, but it was pointless to want more than this. Really, she had everything she needed.

  Her apartment was small, basically two rooms, but it held her whole life. She had her best friend Regan who would do anything for her, she had a job where she got to see the sky, a clean home and food in her belly — and that was more than most people born in the fog had. Tilting up the glass of whiskey again, she curled up on the couch to finish the show, promising herself that after this episode she’d go to bed.

  The half-dressed man on television was sneaking around his in-law’s house, trying to find the dog with his pants, when her phone buzzed on the couch next to her. Laughing along with the show, she glanced over and almost dropped her glass when she recognized the last four numbers. They were from the napkin Bryant had given her, or at least she thought they were.

  No. Way.

  Impossible.

  As if to prove her subconscious wrong, she answered. “Hello?”

  “Phee?” It was Bryant’s voice. It was actually Bryant’s voice. He’d really called her. She’d expected another call from the cable company trying to get her to upgrade, or a drunk dial from Regan on some new guy’s phone, but Bryant? Her mind couldn’t even wrap around it as she debated hanging up. “Um, hello? Is this Phee?”

  “Uh, yeah. It’s me.” Phee took a breath, feeling confused and way too tipsy to be talking to the rich boy who’d toyed with her at lunch.

  “Well, it’s encouraging to know you gave me your real number.” His rumbling laugh over the phone shook the ground beneath her, transported back to that beach in her mind where she could almost see him grinning from the waves.

  “And… you called me.” Rolling her eyes, she couldn’t believe how stupid she sounded. It would be easy to blame the alcohol, or sheer shock, but it was Bryant throwing her off. Men from downtown weren’t actually supposed to call. That only happened in fairy tales, and she’d sworn those off… hadn’t she?

  “I did.” The laugh made his voice an amused rumble, and it did funny things to her stomach. Like he’d released butterflies that only grew more frantic as he continued. “I guess that means I rose to your challenge. Are you going to rise to mine?” His voice was deliciously taunting. She could imagine that cocky smile curving the edges of his mouth, his chestnut hair skirting across his forehead as he pinned her with those turquoise eyes.

  “And what challenge is that, Bryant?” Phee smiled, still anxious as she leaned back on the couch and took a drink of the whiskey for courage.

  “The one where I asked you to dinner, and you pointedly didn’t give me an answer.” Bryant had a growling, playful edge that sent a warm shiver through her, tempting her to reply in kind.

  “Ah, that challenge. I guess I haven’t answered you, have I?” Phee laughed to herself when she heard him groan over the line, feeling truly good for the first time all evening.

  “No, you haven’t. Which only makes you more interesting.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve never had to plead with someone to go on a date before.” Bryant’s voice was getting lower and it made her sit up straight. He was hot. That was an undeniable fact. Seeing him for a just a moment had made her imagine him naked, walking out of the ocean, glistening and wet. She wasn’t immune to his looks, or his playful, cocky charms, but she wasn’t falling for the fairytale. If he was serious, he was going to have to work for it. Incredible eyes or not.

  “You don’t sound like you’re pleading, Bryant.” Phee grinned and Bryant burst into laughter on the other end of the phone.

  “Oh, Phee, I don’t plead with anyone, but I’d definitely like to hear what you sound like when you beg.” Bryant’s words had shifted the conversation hard, and Phee’s visions of the ocean and the earth clashing together melted until it was Bryant on top of her. Her back in the wet sand, his hands pinning hers as he kissed her and claimed victory when he thrust inside her.

  Heat rushed up her chest that had nothing to do with the fifth glass of whiskey she was halfway through.

  “Phee?” Bryant’s voice was a purr that snapped her out of her fantasy.

  “Are you accustomed to women begging you, Bryant?” Phee had meant for her voice to come out strong and steady, but instead it was breathy. Her heart rate needed to slow down, and the tingling feelings in her lower belly needed to chill out.

  “Yes,” he answered without a hint of a laugh.

  Phee’s mouth dropped open and she had the urge to pull the phone away from her head to stare at it incredulously as if the act would somehow translate across the line to him. Talk about arrogant, privileged, cocky jackass—

  “However, I really want to take you to dinner…” Bryant’s heavy sigh filled the phone. “So, Phee, would you please go to dinner with me? I promise to make it worth your time.”

  “Did you just say ‘please’, Bryant?” Phee felt like the ground had solidified under her feet a little. Bryant was a dangerous whirlpool, and if she got too close she was going to fall in.

  “I did. I am actually very polite when I’m not surprised by waitresses butting into my conversations to tell me who I should date.”

  “Are you looking for an apology?”

  “Not at all, I’m looking to say thank you with dinner. But you seem to be running scared from the idea.” Bryant’s voice was a playful rumble again and Phee couldn’t stop grinning.

  “I never said no.”

  “You haven’t said yes, either.”

  She heard him moving around wherever he was and she wanted to know what he was doing. She doubted he was sitting on a threadbare couch, holding a glass of bottom-shelf whiskey, while wearing shorts and an old school uniform shirt. Phee took another sip and crossed her legs on the sofa, dragging it out. This little power struggle was fun, and in her mind she was straddling him on the beach, his hands on her hips — and it was glorious.

  “Then I’ll say it.” Phee paused again just to make him wait, and then she continued, finally answering him. “Yes.”

  Bryant laughed, and she couldn’t help but join in.

  “I can tell this is going to be fun. Are you free tomorrow night?” he asked, and Phee couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol going to her head, or if it was just Bryant making her feel so light after the dark memories had crept in.

  Biting her lip, she told herself that this wasn’t believing in fairytales. This wasn’t being foolish. This was what Regan had said — a nice dinner, and maybe even a nice night to end her year-long dry spell. “Yeah, I’m free for dinner.”

  “Great, what’s your address? I can pick you—”

  “Um, that won’t work,” Phee interrupted.

  “What do you mean? You mean, tomorrow won’t work?”

  “No, it’s just—” Phee sighed. Maybe he had been confused because she worked downtown, maybe he thought she lived there too. With a roll of her eyes she drank the last of the whiskey in her glass and just spat out the truth. “I live south of downtown. In the fog. You don’t need to—”

  “So? I can come by and pick you up. What time are you home?” Bryant didn’t seem fazed at all. It kind of surprised her, especially since there was more than a bit of a social
faux pas with the city’s elite dating people from the fog. Rumors like that appeared in the magazines all the time, it was fodder for the tabloids, but maybe he wasn’t important enough to worry about that.

  “It takes over an hour for me to get home, it would really be easier if we just met at the Elsinore? We close at six thirty, so if you picked me up a little before seven you wouldn’t have to drive all over. I’ll bring a change of clothes if you’ll tell me what kind of place we’re going.” Phee felt like she was negotiating and it was a bit of a thrill when he gave in.

  “Alright. It just means I can spend more time with you. I know a great place, not really fancy, just a dress and you’ll fit in. Although I have to say, the jeans you were in today were spectacular when you were walking away.” There was that playful growl again, and she laughed.

  “A dress it is. What will you be wearing?”

  “Not a dress.” Bryant said it so seriously that it had Phee laughing again and he joined her. “I promise I’ll change from work. No suit, I swear. See you tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night.”

  “You too.” Bryant ended the call and she twisted to lie down on the couch, the stupid grin on her face wouldn’t melt away, and in her head she was shouting out her victory again. Their banter was addictive, she could already tell that dinner would be more than just entertaining. No one kept up with her like he had, giving her quick wit right back to her. Even Regan got confused half the time and they’d known each other since they were four.

  Her phone buzzed in her hand and she looked down to see a text message from Bryant’s number: Don’t lose my number between tonight and tomorrow, okay?

  She laughed and texted him back: Who is this?

  Phee’s cheeks hurt from all the grinning as she waited for him to respond. When her phone finally buzzed she read it quickly: Am I going to have to teach you manners tomorrow?

  Something about the way he’d written it made her hear it in the same low growl in which he’d made the comment about hearing her beg. She realized instantly how wet she was, and the groan she let go had everything to do with imagining him on top of her on that damned beach again, all her forest defenses collapsing as his waves crashed over her.

  She was in trouble, but Phee tapped out a response anyway, the words making her grin: Maybe, Bryant. Night.

  4

  It’s not a fairytale.

  She’d repeated the phrase in her head over and over as she’d changed, determined to keep her head in reality and out of fantasy for their date. And then he’d picked her up in a shiny black car, looking even hotter in the simple button-down shirt and slacks, his grin widening as soon as he stepped out. That had felt very much like a fairytale… until he’d let out a low whistle and she’d been forced to roll her eyes.

  Dinner was at a casual restaurant with incredible, handmade pastas. The bread had been warm from the oven, and they had bantered back and forth the whole time. Phee had learned that Bryant’s uncle had been the COF man at the table, and that Nate was his bodyguard. He was just Bryant Holbrook, and while he worked on his uncle’s staff, he admitted he was just a glorified errand boy for the people who made the actual decisions in the government. Phee had nodded, smiling as he laughed, but she’d kept her mouth shut on how the COF were viewed by most of the people in the fog. Their symbol of a phoenix rising out of a laurel wreath was often mocked in graffiti. Anonymous protest groups liked to post up a version of a headless chicken, its feet in chains that formed the border where the laurel wreath usually lay.

  The city almost always had them painted over within a day, but it didn’t stop the people from putting more up.

  Phee had quickly switched the subject to the food, then books and music, and they’d discovered they had a lot in common. Bryant had even impressed her by emptying out several sugar packets on to a plate and proceeding to make a flock of tiny paper cranes on the table while they chatted. He dropped them all onto the table of a family with two small kids who squealed with delight as they were leaving. The simple kindness had surprised her in the best way.

  After dinner he drove them to a standing art piece in the middle of downtown, tall statues that looked like exaggerated silhouettes of people leaping and dancing and reaching up to the stars. They were easily twenty feet tall, and the walking paths that wound around them and through the trees were well lit. It was nothing like her neighborhood, the fog here was thin and just tinted their vision with a slight haze that grew denser the farther off you looked. But the point was, you could see a block or two down.

  “I thought you might like this place.” Bryant’s sudden burst of speech surprised her; they had been wandering quietly for a while. The air was still pretty warm, only the barest chill as the fog settled on their skin.

  “I do, the statues are impressive. Honestly, I expected you to take me to some ridiculously expensive restaurant, and then—”

  “Throw a bunch of money around to try and impress you?” Bryant finished. It wasn’t exactly what she was going to say, but the same idea. The casual dinner with friendly conversation and the quiet walk through an art installation was not what she had expected at all from his offer of a date. He was so much more than she’d expected.

  She shrugged. “Something like that.”

  “Is that what you wanted?” Bryant’s voice was quiet, and she glanced up at him, his turquoise eyes finding hers but not giving anything away.

  “That’s not my style.”

  “It’s not mine either.” Bryant relaxed a little and took her hand in his as they turned down a path that would lead them back to his car. “In fact, it’s sort of what you heard me complaining about at the café. Everyone expects me to play the political game, to wine and dine the influential people in the Cabal of Freedom so that I can follow in my uncle’s footsteps.” It seemed like he was about to say something else but he stopped talking, and the way he looked away from her made it seem like he didn’t want to continue.

  “Okay, so why did you bring me here?” Phee glanced back over her shoulder to see the huge shadows the statues cast out into the trees. They looked like giants standing over great forges, blasting their shadows in sharp relief against the bright white of the spotlights.

  “It’s my favorite place in the city, and I wanted to see if you liked it.”

  “Why?” Phee almost slapped herself, she had to stop asking him that.

  “Because no one ever has.” Bryant glanced at her and smiled. “Most of the time if I bring someone here, they ask me what we’re going to do here. They’re not happy just walking around. My mom was the last person who would just walk around this place with me.”

  “Where’s your mom?” Phee asked but shut her mouth hard when she saw the shadow pass over his face. She knew that look. She gave the same look whenever people asked about her family. “She’s gone, isn’t she?”

  “Uh, yeah. Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Bryant turned to keep walking towards the car but Phee planted her feet and tugged him back.

  “Hey. I lost my mom a few years ago. It’s not wrong for you to mention her, and, honestly, I’m glad you brought me here to see it. I would have never even known about this place if she didn’t have good taste.” Phee tried to smile as she kept her voice light, ignoring the heavy weight of talking about death.

  Then Bryant kissed her.

  It surprised the hell out of her. His arm moving around her waist to pull her close, warm lips pressed against hers, soft and sweet until he nipped her bottom lip and she gasped. Taking advantage of her parted lips, his tongue brushed hers, and the soft groan in his chest had her wrapping her arms around his neck just so he wouldn’t stop. Bryant’s free hand trailed up her spine to cradle the back of her head, and she melted against him. He tasted like the wine they’d had with dinner, and when his fingers moved into her hair she moaned against his mouth. As if he could read her mind, he tightened his grip and she gasped as the tingling pleasure rushed over h
er skin. That seemed to be all the encouragement he needed to stop holding back. Nipping her lip, he took her mouth, holding her in place with a tight fist in her hair. Both of them breathing harder as he crushed her against him, and she could feel his cock growing in his pants.

  Never shy, Phee rolled her hips until he was moaning in response, the buzz vibrating against her lips as arousal took over and sent sanity to the backseat. When the kiss finally broke they were panting, his cheeks were flushed, and she was sure if he suggested finding a nice dark corner of the park to finish in she wouldn’t have argued a bit. “That was…” She swallowed, caught in his gaze as her heart slammed inside her chest.

  “Yeah. I’d pretend I was inviting you back to my place for coffee, but I honestly don’t even want to try for the charade of all that. Please tell me you’re coming to my place and getting in my bed.” His voice was a hungry growl, fingers still wound in her hair, and it was the kind of line princes never said in fairytales.

  Phee grinned, tracing her bottom lip with her tongue and feeling triumphant when his eyes tracked the movement. “Saying please again?” she asked playfully, and he brought his hand down on her ass in a quick spank. Her mouth opened in surprise, but she was instantly wet, or wetter. Bryant had leaned back to gauge her reaction, and the way his mouth curved said he was happy with her response.

  “Taunting me again instead of answering me?” His rumbling voice made Phee want to melt into a puddle in his arms, and she laughed softly because she’d never been good at playing hard to get.

  “I would like to go to your place, Bryant, and I would absolutely love to get into your bed.”