“Wait, I got it. I’ll walk you to the door.” I said, jerking my door open and going around to open her door. She watched me still frowning with a confused look on her face. It was adorable. I took her hands and helped her down. My eyes zeroed in on the very visible wet spot on the crotch of her shorts. Glancing around I looked for Tripp’s Harley and found it sitting over by Della’s car. Hell no. He wasn’t seeing this. Evidence of her wet pu**y was for my eyes only. Reaching into the truck I grabbed a hoodie out of the backseat.
“Wear this,” I said, pulling it over her head before she could protest or even ask why. She obediently put her hands into the arms and it fell to the middle of her thighs. Completely covering her and her shorts. I let out a sigh of relief.
“Why am I wearing your sweatshirt?” she asked, studying me like she thought I might be going crazy.
I slipped my hand around her waist and pulled her closer to me then lowered my head until my mouth was at her ear. “Tripp’s home and that sweet little wet spot on those shorts of yours are for no one’s eyes but mine. When you get inside go change into something loose and baggy. And for all that’s holy, please wear panties and a bra.”
Della nodded her head and I let her go and stepped back. She smelled too good. Seeing her dwarfed in my hoodie wasn’t helping. It was making my swollen dick even worse. “Go on inside. I need to stay here. If I go to the door I won’t be able to leave.”
She stuck her hands into the front pockets of the hoodie. “Okay. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she stammered then turned and walked to the condo. I waited until she was safely inside before I got back in my truck and left. I should have walked her to the door but I knew seeing her in Tripp’s apartment would bring out the caveman in me even more and I would follow her inside and go lock us both in her room. This had been the only way to let her go.
It was time I went and dealt with my dad.
My mother met me at the door with a frown. She didn’t ask how I was doing or even attempt small talk. She just pointed down the hall and said, “Your dad’s in his office.” Then she walked away without another word.
Most of my life my mother was only affectionate if I was doing exactly what she wanted me to. Whenever I failed or displeased her, she let me know exactly how she felt about me. I should be over it by now. I was a twenty-four year old man. Seeking my mother’s approval was a thing of my past. Still, her conditional love was hard to swallow at times.
I knocked on the door to my father’s office then opened it up. No use in waiting on him to tell me to come in. He was mad at me anyway. He was sitting at his desk with the phone to his ear when I walked inside. His eyes glared at me with disapproval through his glasses that he only wore when he was reading.
“Of course. I agree. Woods has just walked into my office. I’ll speak with him and get back to you on where we go from here,” he said into the phone before hanging it up and leaning back in his chair to study me with a look of disdain.
The bitterness from the knowledge that my grandfather had given him the Vice President title and moved him into the big office the year he graduated from college was always there. He acted like I had to prove so much to him when I’d worked more in that club than he had. He had never gotten his hands dirty or dealt with employees. Yet he expected me to pay my dues.
“I hope you’re here to explain to me why you would toss away everything we’ve worked for because you think you’ll be unhappy? That’s bullshit son. No red blooded man would be unhappy with a woman like Angelina Greystone.”
He hadn’t worked for anything. He wasn’t being told whom he had to marry. I gritted my teeth and held the curses and insults in. They wouldn’t help matters now.
“I don’t love her. She doesn’t even like me much. I couldn’t go through with it. I’m sorry but as much as I want the job I was raised believing would be mine I won’t ruin my life and hers.”
My father leaned forward on his elbows that rested on his desk. “Love doesn’t make a good marriage. It isn’t forever. It leaves you. When reality sets in and times get hard the love disappears and you’re left with nothing. You marry someone who wants the same things you do. Who isn’t expecting romance but success. Angelina gets this. You don’t.”
When my grandmother was sick I had gone to visit my grandparents every chance I got. One day I had been sitting on the porch with my grandfather as he watched my grandmother paint one of her many pictures. The love and affection on his face was unmistakable. He’d turned to me that day and said, “Don’t miss out on the love of a good woman, son. No matter what that old man of yours tells you, love is real. I’d have never had the success in my life without that woman right there. She’s been my backbone. She’s been my reason for everything I’ve ever done. One day your drive to make a name for yourself will begin to drift away. It won’t be that important anymore. But when you’re doing it for someone else, someone you would move heaven and earth for then you never lose the desire to succeed. I can’t imagine this world without her in it. I don’t even want to.”
I hadn’t thought about those words again until today. The man who had raised my father was similar to him in many ways. But there was a difference. My dad did all of this for himself. His drive to succeed was selfish. There was no love in his work. My grandfather had built this business out of love for the woman he married. I’d seen that with my own eyes. I didn’t want to be my father. I wanted to be my grandfather.
“We need to agree to disagree,” I finally said knowing the mention of his parents would only infuriate him. He always thought my grandfather had made bad decisions even though he was the man who built this club.
My father smirked and shook his head. “No son, we don’t because I’m in charge here. If you’re choosing not to do what is best for this club and your future then you’re not ready to take over anything. I can’t promote you if I can’t trust you to make smart decisions. Your job at the club is safe for now but that doesn’t mean someone I can trust more to do your job won’t come along.”
Not only was he not going to give me the position I’d worked hard for he was threatening the position I currently had. I wanted to tell him to f**k himself and walk out. Before this was over I might end up doing just that. However, out of respect for the man who’d built this with the desire to hand it down to each generation of the Kerrington name, I would stay. That man I respected. The one in front of me I held no respect for. If he pushed me too far, I’d be gone. I wondered if he’d even miss me then.
Della
I changed into sweats and a tee shirt before walking back into the living room and talking to Tripp. I preferred to stay in this room and think about everything. I was still trying to figure out what happened and what I did wrong with Woods. He was giving me all kinds of mixed signals. Either he was disgusted by me and decided not to have sex with me or he had just been ready to get rid of me. I wasn’t sure. But then he’d made me wear his shirt and told me to change into baggy clothes. I wasn’t sure what to think about that.
As soon as I’d had that orgasm in his lap he’d been ready to get me the hell away from him. On the drive over here I had convinced myself that I’d screamed too loud and hurt him by pulling his hair like a crazed woman. Then maybe he was as embarrassed by the wet spot on my shorts as I was and that’s why he’d covered me up. He didn’t want Tripp to see me and know he’d been the cause of that. I reached over, picked his hoodie back up, and pulled it over my head. It smelled like Woods. I liked that. I had wanted to get to smell more of him tonight. The rejection I’d hoped to avoid was settling in.
I could talk to Tripp. I wouldn’t tell him exactly what happened but I could get his guy opinion on things.
Tripp’s eyes lifted from the book he was reading and he smiled up at me. “Already wearing Kerrington’s clothes. Damn the guy moves fast,” he teased.
I sighed and sank down on the sofa across from the chair he was sitting in. “Not what it looks like. Trust me.” The deflation in my voice had been a little more obvious than I intended.
“Uh oh. What’s wrong?” Tripp asked, setting his book down on the table beside him and sitting up straighter.
I thought about my words carefully. I didn’t want to tell him too much but I did want his opinion. “Woods broke things off with Angelina and we went to talk about that,” I began. Tripp nodded. He already knew this much but I was still scrambling on what to say to him. “We had lunch together and he explained that he wasn’t happy with her. He doesn’t want to be told who to marry. Then we went back to his place. He wanted to show me his house and I loved it.” I paused and chewed on my bottom lip a moment to think about my next words.
“He never takes girls to that house. It was his grandparents’ so it’s his off limits place. I’ve only been there a handful of times.”