Montreal (International Guy Book 6) Page 4

  I clap my hands together absentmindedly and hiss when the pain from my broken fingers and stitched palm ripples up my arm.

  Alexis rushes to grab my wrists and cradle my hands. “Poor baby. How did it happen?” She leans down and places a kiss on the top of my hand the way a mother would her small child. Except when she’s done, still hovering over my hand, she lifts her gaze and grins wickedly, blatantly flirting.

  Jesus, what the hell am I going to do with this woman?

  Royce jingles some change in his pocket, which seems to knock the client from her trance. She slowly eases her body up, making sure to jut her chest out for maximum cleavage perusal. It takes everything I have in me not to take the bait. I mean, I can look if I want. Skyler and I are done.

  D-o-n-e.

  At least I know we are. She should know after her betrayal, but I can’t go there with Alexis, knowing I haven’t broken it off with Skyler.

  I don’t even know if I’d want to anyway. For the first time in my life I’m not ready to jump into the sack with a hot blonde.

  My chest tightens, and I swallow down the dryness in my throat.

  “Shall I take you both to your spaces?”

  I lift my hand to open the door. “After you, Alexis.”

  “Oh, no, no, I insist.” She smirks and opens her office door for the two of us to pass through. We do, and as we walk forward, I glance over my shoulder to see she’s definitely taking in our asses from behind. I stop abruptly, and she brings a shiny red fingernail to her teeth and bites it, smiling around the digit while maneuvering her body in front of mine, her chest just barely grazing mine.

  She bats her eyelashes. “Sorry.” Even though her tone is teasing, I’m gritting my teeth.

  I bite into my cheek until I taste the metallic flavor of my own blood. The pain reminds me not to respond. I’m not getting into anything with Alexis. Hell, I’m not getting into anything with any client again. Ever. Been there, twice now. The first worked out aces, with me having my first ever female friend. The second tore through my heart, dropped it on the floor, and dug her spiked heel into it for good measure.

  “Funny, Alexis, but we don’t know where we’re going,” I remind her, doing my best to play along without leading her on.

  “I know where I’d like to go,” she states, scanning my suit-clad form up and down while wiggling her body enough to make her big boobs jiggle.

  “Jesus,” I blurt, and glance away from the show.

  Royce’s eyebrows rise up on his forehead as he covers his shock with one of his big paws.

  “Just teasing.” She chuckles, moving in front of us down the hall. “Come on, boys, we’ll do the rounds. I’ll introduce you formally to each department and give a reminder of what you’re here to do. Then I’ll leave Royce with my CFO and get you, Parker, settled into your own private space for the week.” Her voice dips with innuendo on the last sentence.

  Sweet mother of God. I cannot deal with a woman wanting my attention. Not now. Not this week, when I don’t even know which way is up or down.

  I clap Royce on the back and urge him to go ahead of me, adding distance between Alexis and me.

  “Am I your human shield now?” he whispers under his breath as we follow her through the center of the warehouse.

  “Is that a problem?”

  His coal-like gaze shoots to mine. “Never, brother. I’ll guard you with everything I’ve got. Whether it be tech goddesses or hot celebrity blondes, I’ve always got your back.”

  I purse my lips and nod tightly, letting the situation wash over me.

  I’m not strong enough to handle what getting into anything with Alexis would entail, nor do I want to. I’m the weakest I’ve ever been, and if I’m being honest with myself, I’d just be using her to forget someone else. After the shit that went down with Kayla, I promised myself I’d never treat a woman like just a warm body and nothing more. I’ve grown up. The man I was in college is not the man I am today. I’d like to believe I’m stronger, more mature, and I respect the female mind and body as much as my own. A night in the sheets with Alexis would feel good for the time it took to get off. Then reality would strike, and I’d be in the exact same position I’m in now, only with another hole in my notch-filled belt.

  Right then my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and note the display.

  From: Peaches

  To: Parker Ellis

  Just seeing her nickname, I feel warmth spread over my entire body like a blanket on a cold night in Massachusetts. I clench my jaw and take a deep breath while following Alexis and holding my phone so tight it might have dents by the time I get to wherever she is leading me. I don’t read the message and shove the damn thing in my pocket.

  Alexis introduces us to a slew of staff before dropping Roy off at finance and leading me to a corner of the building that seems outside of the action. It almost feels like she’s leading me to the guillotine, though I’m sure it’s the effect of the burning-hot coal in my pocket in the form of a message from my ex-girlfriend that’s messing with my heart and mind.

  “Here we are.” Alexis opens the door to what looks like a reading room.

  “You gotta be kidding me. This is a conference room?”

  She smiles and shrugs. “I prefer to spend my time at work being comfortable. I’m here so much, I need things that put me at ease and in a good headspace to keep my muse happy.”

  “Your muse?”

  Alexis leans her hip against the arm of the couch and crosses her arms over her massive chest. The effect has her boobs practically falling out of her halter. I can’t help but take in the fleshy globes. They’re practically calling out my name, waving a red flag to get my attention.

  “Mm-hmm. You know what else keeps my muse happy?” Once again, her voice is sultry and dripping with a flirtatious flare.

  My mouth goes dry as my body heats and reacts to her blatant sexuality, making me afraid to ask. “I wouldn’t have a clue.” The words come out sounding scratchy.

  She smirks, knowing the kind of attention and effect her body, voice, and forward nature produce when it comes to the male species. Alexis Stanton is a man’s wet dream incarnate. She looks like a Playboy bunny, dresses like a high-end escort, but speaks her mind like a man. I can’t help but wonder if this is a facade. A mask she wears to throw off the opposite sex.

  According to her background file from Wendy, she’s not only at the top of her game and smart as hell, she’s obliterated the competition in her field, all of whom were male competitors. She’s been seen publicly with two of those men in what looked like romantic situations, but none have claimed to be in a relationship with her. At least none have admitted publicly to a romantic entanglement. Perhaps that’s why her main competitor has scored her product information and released it early. They’re going after her for personal reasons. It’s definitely food for thought and something to look into more.

  “Have a seat, Mr. Ellis, and if you’re lucky, I’ll show you instead of tell you.” She lifts her hand, runs it down the side of her rib cage, and rests it delicately on a well-rounded hip.

  As I move around her toward the couch, she reaches out that same hand and runs her finger down the center of my chest, stopping at the top of my slacks and belt buckle.

  I jump back. “Ms. Stanton, Lexie . . .” I cough and raise my good hand between us. “Look, you are a beautiful woman—”

  “I’m glad you think so.” She takes a single step forward as I take one step back.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea.” I gesture to her chest and then mine.

  Her eyes light up with a mischievous twinkle, and my heart sinks.

  “Oh, but I think it’s a very good idea. You see, I’m the boss, you’re the boss . . .”

  I shake my head. “I’m-I’m just coming out of a relationship,” I state lamely.

  She frowns. “Aw, that sounds harsh. Let me kiss it and make it feel better like I did your hand.” She advances another step until my ass
is resting against the round table in the center of the room.

  “Alexis, as I said, you’re . . . pretty . . .”

  Her lips twitch. “Now I’m just pretty? I think you’re trying to talk yourself out of touching me when you’re clearly interested. I’ve seen the way you look at me, at my body. You want me as much as I want you. I’m rarely wrong as it pertains to chemistry between people. Your energy combined with mine . . . would be explosive!” She loops both of her hands around my neck and presses her boobs against my chest.

  I keep my hands at my sides. “Jesus.” My temperature rises along with my cock, and I feel dizzy, like I’ve had a couple of cocktails. “Another time, another place, you would be . . . hell, you would be the one up against the wall with your dress around your waist. Except, I’m not in the right headspace. I told you. I’m coming out of a relationship. It’s uh . . . very . . . fresh,” I finish lamely.

  “Mm-hmm . . .” She runs her nose down the side of my cheek and down to my neck. A tremor ripples up my spine, goading me to take what she’s offering as the heat of her breath tickles my skin. My dick perks up even more and hardens in my pants.

  She smiles. “Your mouth is coming up with all kinds of excuses, but your body is responding to me.”

  I lick my lips, and her gaze drops to my mouth. Christ! She doesn’t miss a beat.

  She lifts up onto her toes, her body now fully flush against mine from chest to knees. I close my eyes and breathe through the sensation, desperately trying not to respond to her nearness, the scent of honeysuckle mixed with melon wafting in the air from her body, her warmth, those succulent breasts bulging so far out of her top that if I dipped my head a few inches, I could run my tongue along the fleshy surface.

  I groan, finally bringing my hands to her hips. She smiles and hovers close to my lips. I can practically taste the coffee on her breath.

  “Are you saying no?” she asks.

  This moment. It’s a moment I’ll likely regret for the rest of my life. The moment I was offered a feast of carnal delights when I was absolutely starved for attention, for human touch, for the desire to just let it all disappear and gorge. Gorge on all the beauty Alexis is offering, but the knife wedged in my heart by Skyler is still there, dripping blood, making it hard to take a single breath. The blackness surrounding my soul isn’t ready to leave, not even for a blessed moment.

  I push her hips back. Her hands drop from around my neck.

  “I’m saying, not now.” I swallow the dust coating my throat.

  She cocks an eyebrow and smiles sexily. “That’s not a no. In my experience, that’s an official maybe. I can live with that. When you’re ready to have some guilt-free fornication . . .” She steps away and heads to the door, where she stops and taps the doorframe. “. . . I’m your girl.” She winks and leaves me standing with a semi and a bleeding heart.

  I close my eyes, take a few deep breaths, go over to the door, and close it.

  What have I gotten myself into? I need to just tell her to back off.

  I let it go too far.

  Why did I do that?

  Because I’m weak. I’m hurting. Worse, I don’t know how to fix this empty feeling inside of me. The old me would have had Alexis naked and bent over the table in two minutes, tops. This me, the one who’s still in love with my ex and can’t stop being wrapped up in the agony of not having her in my life to take advantage of a good time, leans against the door, defeated and numb, before I remember she texted about a half hour ago. I pull out my phone and scan the text:

  I miss you. I’m not me anymore . . . without you. I’ll be waiting. I think I’ll wait forever.

  “Fuck!” I grate into the empty room, the desire to destroy my new phone just as prevalent as it was when I smashed the old one against her kitchen wall.

  Tension builds in my shoulders, and I start to pace like a caged animal.

  She wronged me. Me! I didn’t cheat on her.

  Did she cheat on me?

  The questions are endless, running a marathon in my mind, never stopping to take a break or a sip of water. Always just running and running. Making me dizzy, incapable of fluid thought.

  I have to deal with her. Talk it out as the guys suggested. Kayla tried that. Lied her ass off trying to get me back. Greg, the same. The woman I loved and the man I trusted betrayed me years ago, then spent countless attempts trying to make it better, make me forgive their sins with excuses and rationalizations.

  Well, I’m not buying it with Skyler.

  She betrayed me!

  With anger beating a heavy drum through my system, I bring up my texts.

  To: Peaches

  From: Parker Ellis

  Stop texting. It’s over. You cheated. We’re done. End of story.

  I read and reread the message. That knife in my heart twists, digging in another centimeter deeper. My mouth salivates, and once again, I want to toss my lunch like a little bitch. Taking several lungfuls of air, I get my rage under control.

  This is it. You’re telling her goodbye. Just click “Send.” You can do it. It’s time. Let it go. Set her free.

  With everything I have inside me, I do it and click “Send.”

  My eyes mist over, and I rub at them with my fist.

  I love her, but she was never mine to love in the first place.

  My cell phone buzzes, and chucking it against the wall is really starting to have some serious merit—business contacts, email, work, and everything else be damned.

  From: Peaches

  To: Parker Ellis

  Our story is never going to end. I didn’t cheat. I can see you need more time.

  She didn’t cheat.

  Cheat.

  Cheat.

  The word CHEAT fills every inch of my mind, takes over my body, pushing the knife deeper into my bloody heart.

  “Fucking liar!” I bellow, hurling my phone so hard against the steel wall that it shatters into shiny red speckles like blood spatter. The red case I got at the airport did nothing to help protect the phone against my rage.

  I walk over to the phone and stomp on the offender until there’s nothing but shards left against the concrete floor.

  “You are a liar. A no-good cheat. Just like Kayla. Like Greg. Like every fucking woman out there!”

  I slump into the cushy love seat along one wall and rest my head in my hand.

  “It has to be a lie.” I shake my head and let the ugly in, invading my thoughts.

  She’s trying to save her own ass. But why? Why would she hold on? What is she fighting for? Skyler is a rare beauty. As perfect in real life as she is on screen. With her, what you see is what you get. Her body, her stunning face, there’s no makeup needed. But makeup can’t take away the blackness in her heart. I cringe.

  “What’s her motive?” I seethe through dry lips, and get up to pace once again.

  With Kayla, she needed to be taken care of. I was her golden goose. Her family had money, sure, but her father wanted her to marry and be someone else’s problem. I signed up, hand in the air, screaming, Pick me, pick me! Only I signed up for love. For a woman who would be there for me in all things. Support me in life. Raise a family. Work in a partnership in the things we dreamed of having together.

  Kayla just wanted money and a lifestyle she was used to. The man didn’t matter, which is why she was fucking me and my best friend Greg. It’s also why she fought so hard for me over Greg, because Roy and Bo both backed my play. Kicked him out of our business plan to participate in the creation of IG, which meant he’d have to find a job at a corporation and work his way up to having money. This would take time, and Kayla was not a stupid woman. With Royce running our finances and investment portfolios, we were already on the verge of being self-made millionaires. Kayla wanted a piece of that pie and played the odds. She lost.

  I guess in the end, I won because I got out of committing to a gold digger. Of course, it didn’t feel that way at the time. It felt a lot like losing.

  The thing
is, Skyler has a hundred times the amount of money I have. What could she want? Why is she fighting so hard to save us?

  In my swirling emotions and anger, the answer doesn’t come. Instead, I take a half hour pulling my shit together and calling the first person on staff I need to interview.

  It’s time to dump my mind into the job. Let go of everything else that’s controlling me and focus on the work.

  Focus on the work.

  Focus on the work.

  I repeat the mantra in my mind a few times before the first staff member enters the room. It’s Alexis’s assistant. She’s a shy speck of a woman named Molly. She looks like a librarian who’s usually got her head stuck in a book instead of reality. And I can tell just from her body language that she’s afraid to lose her job. This one is going to be a quick interview.

  She’s not our spy.

  4

  My eyes are blurry as sleepiness invades my mind. The room is too damn comfortable. Even the chairs she has around the circular table are plush leather, so soft my body sinks into them. The chairs also rock. Not exactly conducive to getting work done, more like screwing off or taking a snooze.

  Across from the table and chairs are a TV and love seat. I’m surprised there isn’t a fireplace in here. This looks like someone’s small living room and dining area. The walls are painted soft beige with various tasteful prints and paintings meticulously placed on them. She’s made a warehouse a home office with twenty-two employees who have their own sumptuous spaces. I think Alexis would give Google competition in a battle over who has the better work environment.

  As I blink harshly a few times and stand up to move around, I note a ginger tabby cat walking along a wooden beam outside of the office, where I’ve left the door open. It stares momentarily from its perch, and I wonder to myself how a busy woman like Alexis can take care of a cat. I can barely take care of myself. Definitely not a pet. I’m not home enough. Even plants that are given to me as gifts end up in the trash after a few weeks of being neglected.

  The cat jumps down and saunters into the office as though he owns the place. He pops up onto the arm of the couch and then the back, casually making his way to where I stand. When he gets a foot away from me he stops, looks directly at me, and meows.