Chapter 26: Taming Mr. Walker: Chapter 26

Charlie

My legs are shaking with the volume of caffeine pumping through me. Usually, on Saturdays, I am quivering under the covers trying to survive a hangover.

Today I’m buzzing.

I’ve worked all night and this morning on the business case for submission on Monday, and it’s good. It’s not just good; it’s great.

After five years of listening to complaints across the globe and across the time zones, I know what this product needs.

I’ve been so focused I’ve barely thought of Danny. He messaged last night asking me how I was. Text banter isn’t his strong point. His messages are to the point and with purpose, like a newsreader. As opposed to my messages with Cat, where we exchange fifty screenshots a day, even though we live together and sit on the sofa together.

I type the last point furiously and squeal to myself. I’m done. I can’t give it any more than this. If they don’t like it, I’ll accept redundancy and walk away.

Shutting down my laptop, I bounce into the living room.

“Have you finished your paper thing?” Cat licks her lips nervously and darts her eyes between Julie and me.

“My business case.” I grin like a lunatic and sink into the sofa. “Yes, I have.”

“There is something you need to see,” Julie says sharply, and my glow dims.

I look at her, alert. “What?”

She takes a breath and swipes her phone. “Look at this.”

I take the phone and see a picture of Danny. I’m about to say I don’t understand when I read the headline.

Danny Walker leaves Lower East’s side’s hottest new restaurant with bombshell friend.

My heart plummets.

The picture shows him in the back of a car with an attractive blonde. She is smiling directly at him, and he looks relaxed.

My mouth falls open. He promised.

“Maybe she’s just a friend,” Cat says hopefully.

“Friend.” I snort. “How many guys just have friends that look like supermodels?”

I look between them both as their faces say it all and burst out crying. Big thick ugly tears stream down my face. Snot and liquid everywhere, I’m crying from my lungs. From my soul.

They leap up to fuss over me, and I sob into Cat’s chest as she rubs my hair.

“I swam in a fucking pond for that guy,” I wail.

“You’re too attached, Charlie,” Cat says softly. “It’s too soon.”

“I know,” I sob in broken breaths. “I can’t handle this. My heart can’t cope.”

“Breathe,” Julie says firmly. “Wait thirty minutes, then message him. Without emotion. Cool as fuck.”

I look up through tear-stained eyes.

“You need to be a player, Charlie,” she snaps. “Instead of becoming an emotional wreck each time you see him with another woman.” She shakes her head at me like a schoolteacher. “It’s unbecoming.”

“Fine,” I sniffle.

True to my word to her, I wait thirty minutes before picking up the phone. I’m breathing easier now, although the pain hasn’t lifted. He’s not mine, we aren’t together, and I have no claim on him, so I need to stop acting like a needy, highly-strung bitch.

Hi. I type. What have you been up to in New York?

I stare down at the phone on the sofa like it’s radioactive. The response sound beeps loud, and the three of us jump.

Boring business meetings. You? I read out loud.

“LIAR,” Julie hisses. “Probe more.”

Did you get to do anything fun last night? I reply, my hands sweating.

The buzz comes in instantaneously.

Not really. Meetings went on late into the night. I read out loud again, this time in a higher pitch.

“Bastard!” I cry, firing the phone back on the sofa. “He thinks I’m a bloody mug?”

“He mustn’t have seen the article.” Cat frowns. “I mean, it wasn’t hard to find. It came up on my feed, and he’s not exactly an A-list celebrity.”

I grab the phone, seething. I can’t act like Julie. I’m not impartial. I’m livid.

Business meeting with a blond on your cock? I type furiously and hit send.

“Mature.” Julie groans, looking over my shoulder. “You have blown it now, big style.”

My phone vibrates again, but this time it’s his name on my Caller ID.

“Answer it,” she hisses.

“What the fuck was that?” the deep voice growls down the phone as I put him on speakerphone.

“Your business meetings,” I burst out. “You hold your business meetings in the back of taxis with gorgeous blonde women? After dinner?”

There’s a pause. “Actually, yes, I do. But how did you …”

He trails off, and I know he’s searching on the internet.

There’s a long sigh down the phone. “She’s my lawyer, Charlie. She’s part of my legal team. I have a situation I need to resolve away from the office.”

“I can see why you’d want to resolve that away from the office,’ I snap. “How many lawyers are you fucking? Do you have a conveyor belt of blonde lawyers ready to go?” How stupid does this guy think I am?

“I’m not sleeping with her.”

“Really? Because we both know you like sleeping with blond lawyers.”

I stick up two fingers to the phone in a silent curse. “I guess your talk about not seeing other women was time zone specific.”

“No, we both don’t know that. I finished with the last blond lawyer when you and I started something.”

“Oh yeah,” I reply, dripping in sarcasm. “Because leggy blonde lawyers aren’t your type.”

“No, I prefer hot-headed foul-mouthed brunettes who never run a brush through their hair, take mice to dinner parties and sleep in beds so damn uncomfortable and tiny, I have to go to a physio. You say I’m the moody one,” he continues, “but you jump to assumptions and don’t ask me. Then you act out.”

“Act out? I’m not a child,” I snap. “Stop patronising me.”

“Then stop acting like one,” he grits out. “Look, I’m giving you more than I’ve given anyone in years. I’m putting my closest friendship on the line here for you. What more do you want from me?”

“How am I supposed to feel?” I grumble. “You don’t show me any emotion. You never message kisses.”

“You want me to message a kiss to you?” he sighs impatiently. “That’s what you’re pissed at?”

“The bombshell from the article is really your lawyer?”

“Yes, Charlie. My happily married lawyer.”

There’s a long pause.

“I’m sorry.” I exhale heavily. Getting involved with someone as successful as Danny is making me irrationally insecure. “You get so much attention from women everywhere you go. It deflates my poor ego which is already battered since I don’t have my shit together. I mean, you’re a millionaire tech tycoon, and I take calls from angry clients who can’t reset their passwords.”

He chuckles. “If you don’t reset those passwords I won’t make any money from the angry clients.”

“I’m serious, Danny,” I whisper. It’s the first time I’ve confessed my insecurities to him.

“You have no need to be insecure, sweetheart.” His voice softens. “I happen to consider myself very lucky. Are you going to be in the flat between 4-5pm today?”

“Why?” I ask curiously.

“There’s a new bed arriving. I’m not lying on that heap of planks again.”

“You bought me a new bed?” I splutter.

“Don’t get excited,” he shouts over some type of announcement like he’s in a train station. “It’s not as big as mine. I’d never get that into your flat.”

There’s more background noise.

“Where are you?” I ask.

“Heathrow.”

He’s back? He’s in the UK?

“Why? Weren’t you supposed to fly home tomorrow?”

“I changed my flight,” he says. “There’s a new bed I need to try out.”

***

“Hey.” I tilt my chin up to meet his gaze.

There are bags under his eyes, and he has that dishevelled plane hair and clothes thing going on. My grin widens. He looks like shit, and it’s because he flew home early for me.

“I was forced to fly standard class,” he mutters. “First class was all taken. So you better take care of me now.”

“Poor baby.” I roll my eyes unsympathetically as we walk up the stairs to my flat.

“That new bed better fucking be here. Or I’m turning around and walking out that door.”

“Am I not worth lying on broken planks of wood?” I pout.

“I’ve lost a full night’s sleep,” he growls. “No, Charlie, not even you are worth that tonight.”

I hit him. “It’s here. Come have a look.”

We walk into the bedroom where Suze, Cat, and Julie are sprawled across the new bed.

Danny releases a soft groan beside me. “Ladies.”

“This bed is amazzzzzzing.” Cat rolls around on it, and Danny curses a bit louder.

“I searched for this bed online.” Julie eyeballs him. “These beds cost two grand.”

“Two grand?” I shriek, turning to him. “You did not pay two grand for a new bed for me?”

“I thought I was buying it for you.” He eyes them. “Didn’t realise it was actually for the whole flat.”

“Feel free to kit the whole house out if you want,” Julie says wryly.

“You better not let your mother into your bedroom again, Charlie,” Suze says. “Or Tristan. They’ll be at you like hawks wondering why you forked out on this luxury.”

“Damn.” Danny flinches. “I didn’t think this through.”

“Your dirty little secret will have to come out sometime.” Julie smirks, and I glare at her.

“Can the three of you fuck of now?” I mutter, shooing them off the bed like geese.

Two hours later, we are sitting in my favourite Indian restaurant around the corner.

I love this place, but I’m usually in elasticated trousers ready for a food coma rather than a leather pants and bra number.

As soon as we heard Danny was flying home early, Julie forced me to up the antics. I’m wearing a leather ensemble that Stevie forced Cat to buy.

She says she hasn’t worn it yet, and I really hope she’s not lying because the leather is chafing so high up my crack, I think it might slice me in two.

“It’s good, right?” I say, shoving more korma into my mouth. “I know it’s not your typical exclusive Mayfair restaurant where the food is telescopic portions at shameless prices. This place is inclusive. Sweatpants, PJs, anything is allowed.”

He chuckles. “I’m not a princess, Charlie. I go to expensive restaurants if the food deserves it, for no other reason. I grew up in a country that eats deep-fried pizzas, remember.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t believe that for a second.” I shuffle my backside on the chair to dislodge the leather. This stuff is really itchy. In hindsight, I could have put it on after the meal; it’s not like I was planning to strip down in the restaurant.

“You OK?” he asks as I cross and uncross my legs in an attempt to scratch the itch. Argh.

“Great,” I mutter, resisting all urge to take my fork and scratch my inner thigh until all leather has disintegrated.

“Is deep-fried pizza actually nice?” I wrinkle my nose.

“Delicious. Although with Mum being a vegan nut, it was a rarity when I was allowed it.”

“I never hear you talk about your parents,” I say softly, reaching across the table to take his hand.

His breath catches. “When you stop making new memories, you find yourself talking about the person less.”

“What was she like?” I ask tentatively.

His face sags, and I instantly regret pushing him out of his comfort zone.

“It’s OK,” I say quickly. “We can change the subject.”

He gazes out the window for a minute, then he turns to me fully. “You two share some similar traits.” He lets out a short sad laugh. “What does that say about me, hey? Mammy issues. She was creative, fun, the life and soul of the party,” he continues. “She loved to sing. She used to sing in a band around the pubs in Glasgow.” His tone darkens: “Until that prick stopped her.”

“Your dad,” I whisper.

“I don’t call him that,” he replies gruffly, staring into his beer.

“She would have liked you.”

“I’m pleased.” I smile. “Do you think that’s what made you so determined to become successful? The … accident?”

“It was no accident,” he mutters darkly. “I became successful because I didn’t have anything else going for me. All I had left was my grandmother and Karl.”

I nod. “That’s why Tristan means so much to you.”

He laughs again. “Yes, for some reason, Tristan took a liking to me. I wasn’t like you in uni. I didn’t drink. I was reserved and sullen, I stayed away from people. But he stuck with me regardless. So yeah … I’m worried about how he’ll react if he finds out … about us.”

He closes his eyes with a dark exhale.

“I could count on one hand how many people care about me, and he’s one of them.”

“That’s not true,” I say softly. “You need one more finger. I care about you too.”

When he opens his eyes, a private, unspoken emotion passes between us, one I never thought I’d see on Danny Walker’s face.

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and I decide I’ve pushed him enough for one night. “How’s the jet lag? Since you had to fly with the normal people, Princess?”

He grins, taking a swig of his beer. “Fair enough, I deserve that. The truth is I’m absolutely shattered.” He looks it.

“We can have an early night.”

“This is officially our first date.” He gives me a lopsided smile. “I’m supposed to be sweeping you off your feet. Showing you that I can keep up with a twenty something.”

Groaning, he grasps a hand on his pocket. He takes his phone out, and I see Tristan’s name flash across the screen. “He thinks I’m still in New York.” He frowns. “I won’t get it.”

Part of hiding our dirty little secret.

“Danny,” I start, trying to sound light-hearted. “Why are you so worried about Tristan knowing about us? Are you embarrassed?”

His forehead creases into a frown. “No, Charlie, I’m not embarrassed. Tristan made me promise I would never go there. He’s very protective of you and Callie, you know. After he witnessed how your mother was treated by your father. He used to go out for days and come back, and she’d hear he was with some other woman. Tristan used to hear her lying in bed crying. He doesn’t want anyone to hurt you. You’re his baby sister.”

“I know all that,” I say, frustrated. “I might have been younger, but I still witnessed it. That’s not a reason to mollycoddle me. I’m a grown woman now. Not to get into Sigmund Freud theories, but you are not my father! Just like I am not your mother. Do you treat women badly?”

He gives a soft laugh. “No, I’ve always been very straight with women. I rarely want to jump into something serious. Sometimes they ignore that and get hurt when it ends badly.”

Like I will.

I wither a little as his hurtful words sear my ears. If he notices, he ignores it.

“Tristan knows me. He knows I’ve been with a lot of women. He doesn’t want that for you.”

“What about what I want?” I ask. “Doesn’t that matter?”

“You’re younger than me, Charlie. You’re in a different time of your life. What you want will change.”

I stare at him in disbelief. “Don’t patronise me, Danny.”

He takes both my hands. “Let’s not fight. I can’t tell you what’s going to happen in the future. All I can say is that I’m taking a big risk now because to walk away would be worse. That’s all I can give you right now. Is that enough?”

There’s a pause.

“Yes,” I say at last.

He gives me a look of relief. “Now, what’s good for dessert?” he asks, opening the menu and turning to the back page.

Damn, I was hoping we could leave after the main course so I could scratch the leather. He’s here for the long haul. For Fuck’s sake, who orders dessert after scoffing two naan bread, a whole bowl of rice, and a large meat stacked Jalfrezi?

I can’t take this.

I use my elbow to subtly stroke back and forth between my legs. Nearly … nearly … ooh, it’s not enough. I need this damn contraption off.

“What are you doing?” His eyes are wide, watching as I dig my elbow in further. “Did you just try to scratch your Nether region with your elbow?”

I snort. “It’s the leather.”

“The leather?”

“I’m wearing a tight leather bra and pants ensemble. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

He gives me an amused smirk. “God, give me strength. You take out the leather after I’ve sat squashed against a fat man and a baby for eight hours. Are you trying to murder me through exhaustion?”

“You look like you have fleas.”

“That’s not the look I’m aiming for,” I mutter.

He lets out a snort of laughter and finds my hand across the table. “Let’s get the dessert to go.”

***

Back on my new luxury bed, we rip at each other’s clothes like bears trying to maul the other. It’s only been a few days, but it’s been too long since I saw him naked. I’m panting hornily as he tugs my sweater over my head to reveal the leather bra.

I fumble with his jeans like an amateur. There’s no time or desire for foreplay tonight.

I push him down onto the bed and climb onto him, my legs straddling his hips.

“It would be a shame to waste the leather,” he says gruffly, pushing a finger inside the leather bra to circle a nipple.

I hover just above him without touching him as he pushes the leather cups down so that my breasts spring free. His length stands up straight, thick and impatient.

“Stop teasing me,” he growls. “Get on my cock.”

I smirk down at him and reach between my legs to pull down the zip of my leather pants, exposing my crotch.

“Zipped,” he hisses. “Very efficient.”

His hands tighten around my hips, and he lowers me down so that his head is rubbing against my wet slit.

Then he impales me onto him, filling me so deeply I cry out.

“Easy,” I breathe, rotating my hips to stretch my core out so that I can take his size.

“Sorry,” he replies gruffly. “It’s been a week.”

I start to gyrate gently on top of him, thrusting my hips, reaching the spot that I know will bring me pleasure.

“You’re so deep.” I moan, looking down at him. “Do you know how good you feel inside me?”

I thrust, increasing the tempo as my pleasure dictates, and his breathing becomes laboured, louder.

“I’m going to come.” He closes his eyes, groaning. “If you keep doing that, I can’t stop.”

I don’t want him to stop. I want to prove I can make him come hard and fast. I control the movement; I’ll control when he comes.

I slam my hips into his groin and widen my legs deeper, so he is buried to the hilt.

He lets out a strangled growl. “Fuck, I’m coming. Now. Now.”

I feel it like it’s part of me. He explodes into me, filling me with his come as I watch his handsome face twist and contort with a mixture of pleasure and pain.

“Did that help the jetlag?” I ask breathlessly, holding him inside me.

When he opens his eyes, they are swimming with tenderness. “Yes, Charlie, I’ll have the best sleep of my life now.”