Breaking the Bro Code (9 page)

He held his breath, waiting to see if any more words would follow. This was the most she’d ever opened up and he was reluctant to move, to breathe, to speak or to do anything else that might have her running for emotional cover.

Silence settled over them like a blanket. He waited and waited but nothing further came. ‘I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. You’re a great role model for all those burgeoning little bun heads at the studio.’

‘Hardly.’

‘It’s true,’ he said, cupping her cheeks with his hands, forcing her face up to his. ‘With all you’ve been through you’re still fighting, still trying to get it all right.’

She screwed up her nose and tried to pull away from him, but he hooked a leg over her hip and held her close. At the sudden full-frontal body contact he felt himself stirring again and she took advantage of his arousal to distract him. Her hand slid down between them to cup his erection, and his thoughts dissolved into a groan.

‘Nice try.’ He ground the words out while willing himself not to press into her palm, but her gentle strokes were doing a number on his ability to think straight. ‘But that won’t stop me asking questions.’

‘Oh, I think it will.’ She pressed her lips against the side of his jaw, her tongue flicking out to graze against his stubble. ‘Eventually all your blood will head south and you’ll be powerless.’

Powerless? She must be dreaming. He grabbed her shoulders and rolled them so that he was on top, pinning her hands above her head. She rolled her hips, grinding her pelvis up against his.

‘I can still distract you from this angle.’

‘I have no doubt you could distract me from any angle.’ A surge of arousal raced through him as he looked down at the gorgeous girl beneath him. She was all pink cheeked and wide-eyed with her halo of blonde hair fanned out around her in a mess of wavy strands. ‘But I want to know why you’re avoiding talking to me.’

‘I thought we’d got past the talking bit.’ Another bump of her sex against his made his blood simmer. The girl was determined when she wanted to be.

‘We’re friends, Ellie. We don’t ever get past the talking bit. That’s kind of how it works.’

‘This doesn’t feel very friendly.’ Her eyes gleamed, a confused mix of hope and fear rolling across her face like clouds blocking and releasing the sun. ‘This feels like something else.’

* * *

She didn’t know what to think. She’d come here to return his money and instead she’d confessed her sins and then taken him to bed. So much for salvaging her conscience—she was simply adding to the piles of things she’d messed up in her life.

She didn’t want to have this conversation with Col; she would have been quite happy to indulge in his body until the sun came up and then never talk about it ever again. He was leaving the country at the end of the week and she had to find something else to fixate on. Having him around had proved to be a much-needed break from her usual responsibilities of the studio and taking care of her mother.

Elise bit down on her lip; she needed to check in on her mum. She made a mental note to do it as soon as she got home, and then she pushed the guilt from her mind. Didn’t she deserve a little fun? She was barely twenty-seven but she was burned out. Losing herself under Col’s expert touch had taken years of stress from her; now she felt young and beautiful and free.

‘Talk to me, Ellie. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?’

‘I was wondering if it was greedy to try for round two.’ She grinned, enjoying the way an equal smile spread over his face. His teeth gleamed in the moonlight; he’d had them fixed. Funny how she’d only just noticed that.

‘And?’

‘I decided I don’t care if it’s greedy. I want you again, Col.’

She could see he was trying to hang on, but he’d come dangerously close to getting her to open up...more than she already had. That meant she needed to get him to focus on something else, and if that focus happened to be pleasuring her then it was win-win.

‘You’re impossible.’ He brought his mouth down to hers, hot and forceful. ‘You’re maddening and frustrating and...’

‘And?’

‘Insanely hot.’

She laughed, closing her eyes for a moment and revelling in the need that built in her. She’d forgotten how incredible sex could be. With her previous partners it had simply become another opportunity for them to see how emotionally inept she was. But with Col it was different. She felt self-conscious, sure, but there was something about his large yet gentle hands that put her at ease. He pushed her for more than she had to give, and she wished with all her heart she could give him what he needed, but even then he cared for her in a way no one else ever had.

‘I like insanely hot.’

His lips came down to her neck and he kept her hands pinned above her head. He let his weight press her into the bed; trapping her, making her his prisoner. It felt primal, basal. She’d never been so close to the brink of showing who she was, of truly being herself.

She squeezed her eyes shut, as if it would create a barrier between them. But he released her hands and found her centre. Sliding his fingers into her, he brushed his thumb across her clitoris so slowly that she wanted to scream and demand more, but pleasure had rendered her helpless. All she could do was writhe and meet his slow strokes with the thrust of her hips.

He paused briefly to sheath himself with a fresh condom and before her body had time to be used to the absence of him he was back inside her. This time it was slower, deeper, and orgasm welled inside her with a force that made her shake.

As he tipped them over the edge they were barely moving, the slow grind of his hips so languid she felt intoxicated by him.

‘Come for me, Ellie.’ His breath was hot against her ear. ‘Don’t hold back. I want to see everything you’ve got.’

She shook her head, but release was within her reach and she couldn’t say no. Her mask slipped as the waves of orgasm built. When the full shock waves hit her she broke apart and her cry echoed high in the hotel room.

The sound of her heartbeat thumping drowned out their heavy breathing. Uneasiness settled over her. What had she done? Repeating the mistakes of her much younger, much stupider self wasn’t something she’d planned on. Col would be gone at the end of the week and if for some reason he hadn’t left then he most certainly would when he realised just how broken she was. An earth-shattering orgasm did not a healthy emotional relationship make.

She thought about getting up and leaving but Col’s warm arms enveloped her and pulled her close against him. Her heartbeat slowed, the panicked thoughts disappeared and her mind became quiet. She relaxed into him, willing the calm to last forever.

NINE

A loud screeching
shocked Elise into wakefulness. Blinding sunlight streamed in through the windows, making her squint and shield her eyes with her forearm.

‘What
is
that?’

‘It’s called an alarm.’ Col’s deep, husky voice sent a shiver through to the very marrow of her bones. ‘A device one uses to ensure they wake up at the correct time in the morning.’

‘Sounds more like a torture device if you ask me.’ She pushed herself into a sitting position and rolled her shoulders. They ached with the same sense of exhausted satisfaction as the rest of her. ‘Cruel and unusual torture.’

‘This from the girl who used to wake up at the crack of dawn to be the first girl in the ballet studio.’

‘I was young and foolish.’ She pulled a mock serious face. ‘I didn’t appreciate a good sleep in for what it was worth.’

‘I think there’s a lot we didn’t appreciate when we were young and foolish.’ His tone was serious, the blue of his eyes piercing in the morning sun.

He’d showered and looked exactly the same as he did when he’d answered the door last night; white towel slung low on his lean hips, wet hair darkened to ebony, droplets of water scattered across his muscled shoulders. She sucked in a breath as flashing images of her nails digging into his shoulders overtook her. Liquid heat pooled low in her belly and made her limbs feel quivery. How could she possibly want him so soon after he’d satisfied her beyond her understanding of satisfaction?

‘I know there are things I should have appreciated far more.’

He stalked across the room until he arrived in front of her. He dropped down to his knees and eased her back so that he could bend over her and swirl his tongue against the ridge of her hip bone. Deft fingers toyed with the edge of her underwear while his warm breath tickled her skin.

‘I should have appreciated
you
, Ellie, instead of running away. I—’

‘Stop it.’ She planted her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back. ‘Please, stop it.’

‘What?’

As she sat up she was met with hurt and confusion; it was starting already. Her inability to talk about her feelings or even listen to his was forcing a wedge between them and they’d only just woken up. Her mouth felt as though it were filled with cotton balls.

‘I don’t want to get into this.’

‘You don’t want to get into this
now
?’

She wanted to swallow the rising panic that climbed dangerously high in her throat, threatening to choke her. ‘I don’t want to get into this full stop.’

‘You’re going to have to deal with it one day.’ He stood up, his shadow eclipsing her.

‘Says who?’

‘Says the guy who’s only going to be able to try for so long.’ He turned and walked to the bathroom.

She wanted to shout back at him but the words stuck in her throat. He’d already left her once; he would do it again. Wasn’t it better if she let him walk away now? She’d made a mistake in coming here last night but she didn’t have to string it out. Like a Band-Aid, wasn’t that always the advice?

‘I...’ Her voice faded into nothingness.

He paused at the doorway to the bathroom and turned as though he’d heard something, but when she didn’t say anything he closed the door quietly behind him.

* * *

The face that stared back in the bathroom mirror was not one he’d want to inflict on anyone. Two dark brows were slashed into a downward point above his nose. His jaw was clenched and his chest rose and fell with short bursts.

He looked just like his father.

For so long Col had been able to keep his temper in check. He kept his drinking to a minimum, and avoided it altogether when he’d had a bad day. His father had always been an angry drunk and Col had done his utmost not to try his luck and see if he was the same. He’d even managed to keep his cool when a reporter had shown up at his office, questioning whether Hillam was his real last name. Obviously he hadn’t buried his past far enough away; he should have chosen a name that was further from his history.

But Elise could make him feel any emotion in the book, especially the ones he didn’t want to feel. Her words, the memory of her dainty hands wrapped around him and the taste of her all sent him to a place that was terrifying. She might not be able to show her own feelings, but she could conjure his as easily as if she’d hardwired straight into his brain.

He fought the urge to slam his fist against the wall. Why did he want her when she so clearly didn’t want him...not beyond the physical, anyway? Was he so pathetic, so screwed up that he could only love someone who didn’t love him back, who
couldn’t
love him back? Was that the legacy his father had beaten into him?

He practised the breathing exercises he used whenever he felt the frustration take hold. Slow breath in, count to five, slow breath out.

‘Col?’

‘We need to get ready, Ellie.’ He braced a hand against the door, wishing he could fling it open and sweep her up in his arms. But that wouldn’t solve a damn thing.

‘I’m sorry. I’m not very good at this.’

He closed his hand around the doorknob and debated whether or not to let her in.

God, if he couldn’t even let her into a room, how could he possibly contemplate more?

‘Don’t open the door,’ she said, as if reading his mind. ‘Maybe I can talk a little easier if I don’t have to worry about my face.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘I know my face doesn’t look right when I’m trying to talk about something difficult...’

‘Ellie, your face is perfect.’ He sighed and leant his forehead against the door. ‘Your face would make a painter weep for joy.’

‘Don’t be sarcastic.’

‘I’m not.’ He really wasn’t.

Elise had been the bane of her brother’s existence through high school. Every guy wanted to date her and Rich had shooed them all away with a threat...even him. At times he’d felt sorry for Rich. Elise had been the better student, the more popular sibling, she’d been a ballet star and was gorgeous to boot. She seemed to win out on every single facet of life.

‘What I mean is that I don’t show emotions properly on my face.’

Col felt awareness run through him, as if a piece of the puzzle had finally clicked into place. ‘Who on earth told you that?’

‘Well, they always said it at ballet.’ She paused. ‘But I was dating this guy, and he said my face was like a brick wall.’

Silence. Col swallowed down anger that flared like the lighting of a match within him. Getting angry would not help Elise.

‘Well, that guy was clearly doing something wrong then, because I saw every little bit of feeling on your face last night.’

‘He’s right. I don’t do the emotional stuff very well.’

‘I’m opening this door.’ He grabbed the handle and let himself out of the bathroom.

Shock flickered across her face for a split second, but then her eyes hardened and her mouth pushed into a flat line. He knew that face—it was her game face. The one she used when she felt threatened or unsure or vulnerable. And he knew she would be feeling all three of those things right now.

‘The guy that said that to you had no idea what he was talking about.’ He cupped her face between his hands and held her steady when she tried to twist away. ‘I see you, Ellie. I see what’s going on in your head... There’s
nothing
wrong with you.’

She bit down on her lip and looked at him, the mask firmly in place. He’d lost her as soon as he’d opened that door when she’d asked him not to.

‘Well, anyway,’ she said, her voice perky and a smile firmly painted on. ‘It’s your day to today. As you said, it’s time to get ready.’

‘And what exactly are you going to wear?’ He looked at the T-shirt she’d plucked from his luggage, his eyes lingering on where the soft grey fabric skimmed the tops of her toned thighs.

Her underwear was hanging from the armchair in the corner of the room and her silky top was in a rumpled heap on the floor. There was no way she’d have time to go home and get changed; they had to improvise.

‘This?’ She looked down at the T-shirt and back up at him. ‘Or not?’

‘Don’t think I’ve forgotten about our conversation.’ He leant down and pressed his forehead to hers, hurt searing the inside of his chest when a flicker of fear passed over her eyes. ‘We’re going to continue it tonight.’

‘Says who?’ She crossed her arms across her chest, causing the T-shirt to rise and almost expose the place he’d explored so intimately last night.

He swallowed and pushed aside the hot, achy feeling that was causing him to swell. He had neither the time nor the headspace to deal with his inconvenient feelings towards Elise Johnson.

‘Says me.’ He strode to the cupboard and pulled out his clothes, throwing them on before tossing Elise a white cotton shirt. ‘If you roll the sleeves up this might be okay. As for your underwear, I can’t help you with that. You’ll have to go commando.’

She picked up her denim shorts and slipped them on, looking up at him as she did so. Was someone up there trying to punish him? How on earth would he be able to concentrate all day knowing Elise was wearing his shirt and
not
wearing anything beneath those tiny shorts? Cruel it was, just cruel.

She slipped the T-shirt off over her head and he caught a glimpse of bare breast before she wriggled into the shirt, tied it at the waist and rolled the sleeves up. The white cotton against faded denim made her skin glow, and with her blonde hair all messed up she looked nothing short of a fantasy.

‘Ready?’ She grabbed her bag and started out towards the main room.

‘I don’t think I’ll ever be ready,’ he muttered under his breath.

* * *

By the time they made it to the convention centre, which was conveniently placed across the road, the lines were already circling the venue and the noise was rising. This particular conference wasn’t quite as crazy as some of the ones he’d attended in the US earlier in his career. There weren’t as many people in costume and the crowds were smaller. But the buzz filled the air with a palpable excitement and Col’s stomach flipped when he realised how big that auditorium would feel when it was full.

Perspiration beaded at his brow and suddenly Col’s mouth was drier than a drought-ravaged field. His heart rate climbed and each breath felt harder and more forced. He was about to distract himself with inane conversation when Elise took his hand and squeezed. She didn’t turn to look at him; she didn’t say a word. She simply held his hand and the simplicity of her action said more than any words or look could have.

They slipped through the VIP entrance to the conference, and the main hall was abuzz with the stall holders preparing for opening time. They had ten minutes to go and there was plenty of last-minute scrambling to make sure that everything was perfect. The Hillam Technologies stall was in the far corner, gleaming displays of their latest apps and software programs—mainly personal fitness and health apps with gamification elements—set up and ready to go.

‘Did you make all of these?’ Elise peered at the display devices, swiping and tapping at the apps to test them out. ‘
Run for your life
, what’s that about?’

‘Ah, but only the most fun and creative running app around.’ Col swiped at the iPad and took the app back to its home screen. ‘It’s a running app with different survival themes. There’s a zombie apocalypse, bear attack, escape from the jungle—’

‘Why on earth would anyone want to pretend they were being chased by a bear?’

‘If it motivates people to run faster, harder, longer...’ he paused, enjoying the tint of colour spreading across Elise’s cheeks ‘...then it’s good for fitness. That’s one of our philosophies: we create apps to take the boring out of everyday activities.’

‘Mr Hillam?’ One of the young guys behind the stand approached them, hand outstretched. ‘I’m Brody. So nice to meet you in person finally.’

Col took in the spiked black hair and colourful sleeve tattoos on both arms. The boy might have looked as though he’d fit right in with a rock-band road crew, but he was one of the most gifted app designers Col had ever worked with. To date they’d only ever conversed via various forms of technology since Brody was based in New Zealand.

‘Yes.’ Col grabbed his hand and shook it heartily. ‘Much better than our usual Skype meetings. I’m glad you were able to fly out.’

‘It’s just a hop over the water.’ He smiled.

‘This is Elise Johnson.’ He tried to think quick—how would one categorise their relationship? ‘She’s a very old and dear friend.’

‘And of course by old, he means we’ve been friends a long time.’ Elise shook Brody’s hand and rolled her eyes at Col. ‘You’ve got a way with words, Col.’

‘What?’ He shrugged. ‘You don’t look a day over sixteen.’

Elise shook her head. ‘Creepy.’

‘Nineteen?’

She grimaced and pointed her index finger in the air.

‘Twenty-one.’

‘Perfect.’ A pleased smile spread across her lips and she turned back to Brody. ‘How did you come to work for Col if you’re based in New Zealand?’

‘I applied to the Hillam Technologies’ Bright Things programme last year. Every year they run a competition and the person with the best app gets an opportunity to pitch it for sale and sometimes there’s even a job offer at the end. I was one of the lucky ones.’ Brody grinned. ‘We don’t have many large technology companies in New Zealand, so this was a dream come true.’

Warmth spread through Col’s chest. He’d promised himself many times over the years—when the Johnsons had taken him in, when his bank manager had given him a chance with a small business loan—that one day he would pay it forward. The Bright Things programme offered smart kids the opportunity to kickstart their career in technology. Winners were assigned a mentor and often the company bought the app the student had pitched. In fact, some of their top-selling apps had come from this programme.

The winner of the first year had already left Hillam Technologies to start his own venture, and Col couldn’t have been happier for him. Each time he helped one of these kids he felt as if he was taking another step away from his past, continually proving to himself that he was nothing like his father.