Like Glass We Break (Glass #2) (7 page)

Chapter Seven

Renae

“Where’s Scott Reed?” the CEO of a partner firm asks Renae as soon as she walks into the room. She wonders for a second how he knew she was from Danis Accounting, but then she remembers she’s wearing an identification badge.

“I don’t know,” she replies, looking around the room. She really doesn’t even want to hear Scott’s name right now. She’s still upset at last night’s events. She couldn’t care less if he showed up for this conference or not.
But where is he?

She’s utterly exhausted. Her head hurts. She woke up early just so she could take a shower that would hopefully open her pores to release the smell of alcohol so she didn’t show up to this meeting smelling like a drunk. She looks downwards and discreetly smells her shirt. She’s fairly certain she doesn’t smell bad. Thankfully, she used a lot of her favorite perfume this morning, and now she smells of a hint of rose, peppercorn, cranberry, vanilla, and cacao flower.

The meeting is about to start, and Scott is still nowhere to be found. He was supposed to help set up a PowerPoint presentation, and the director was visibly irritated. He casually walks over to where Renae is sitting and leans over.

“Go find him,” he whispers sternly.

Renae rolls her eyes, and then instantly regrets it when she realizes someone in the room may have seen her do that. She quickly scans the room, but is relieved to see that no one’s eyes are on her. The director is still standing beside her as she pushes herself up from her chair. She looks him in the eyes and nods. He returns to his seat and she ventures out into the hallway. The first place she checks is his room.

She knocks on the door and he doesn’t answer.

“Scott?” she calls out. She knocks again. Still nothing. She puts her ear up to the door to listen for any movement.
Did he not even come back to his room at all last night?

Renae begins to walk away from the door when she hears a moan. She turns and puts her ear against the door again.

“Scott?” she calls out. “They’re waiting for you downstairs.”

“Cora?” he mumbles.

“Uh, no, Scott. This isn’t Cora. It’s Renae. The meeting downstairs—they’re all waiting. Are you still drunk? Open the door.”

With her ear still pressed to the door, she waits. She hears nothing, but then suddenly the door cracks open. Scott looks like he’s a complete mess. His hair is disheveled. He’s only wearing plaid boxers. His face is close to Renae’s, and she can smell alcohol on his breath. He looks like he hasn’t slept at all, although with the three hour sleep Renae got, she looked no better waking up this morning.

She pushes her way into Scott’s room and closes the door behind her. “Get in the shower, Scott. I’ll pick you out some clothes.”

He nods and disappears into the bathroom. His shower must be scalding, because steam is pouring out from under the bathroom door.

Renae flips Scott’s suitcase open. Sitting on top of the rest of his clothes, there is a pair of black lace underwear that clearly belongs to a woman. Renae wonders if they’re Sophie’s. She carefully pushes them to the side and pulls out dress pants and a shirt for today’s meetings.

Scott emerges from the bathroom, wearing only a small white hotel towel around his waist. He’s still soaking wet.

“What happened last night?” Renae asks.

“I just didn’t feel like going to bed. Sorry, Renae,” he replies.

“But I thought—never mind.” Renae sighs and hands him his clothing. “Get dressed. We are so late.”

He doesn’t even return to the bathroom to put his clothes on. Instead, he turns to face the wall, drops his towel, and slips on a pair of boxers. He then turns to Renae and puts his pants on while looking her in the eyes. She doesn’t want to look at him right now but she finds herself unable to look away. He stands in front of her with his abs glistening.

He takes a step toward her and she convinces herself to turn away. He moves even closer. She bumps into the wall, and he’s pressed against her before she can move aside.

“We have to go,” she squeaks. Their eyes interlock. She wants to look away, but can’t; the look he’s giving her is almost mesmerizing. He isn’t listening to her. Suddenly, she feels the heat of his breath on her neck, with his lips softly sweeping across it. She tries to ignore the sensations she’s feeling, but no sooner than she can try to distract herself his teeth graze over that one soft spot she was hoping he wouldn’t find. His hand is at her neck. He squeezes, hard. She gasps and puts both arms up to push him back, but then his mouth is on her collar bone, then her ear. He bites her, and then licks gently. She can still smell the alcohol from last night mixed with the minty toothpaste from just now.

As he eases his grip slightly, she relaxes into him. She feels defeated and she lets her arms drop to her sides. He puts both of his arms around her and holds her so that she cannot move. More biting and licking. As her body turns slightly, her thigh brushes against him, revealing how very aroused he’s become for her. Unconsciously, she presses back against it, her body going against what her mind is screaming at her.

Renae opens her mouth as though she’s about to object but Scott covers it with his hand. Before she knows it, he flings her around from the wall toward the bed as she falls back against the satin sheets and large pillows. As she looks up, he’s already there, hovering like a tiger eyeing his prey.
His look—what is it about his look that she can't turn away from?

He’s clearly not going to take no for an answer, nor will Renae say no. He holds both of her hands in one of his, above her head. He squeezes hard and she winces at the pain, but it feels good. She can feel how badly he wants her as he pushes himself up against her. She cries out softly and he puts his other hand over her mouth. Scott presses firmly against her underwear, feeling her heat and wetness. He lets out a bit of a deep growl beside her ear as his kissing intensifies. Pushing harder, rubbing deeper—her body squirms to his touch. She feels the weight of his chest pressing down against her, making sure she’s not going anywhere. Her head thrashes to the side and then presses against his cheek.

“The c-conference—we’re—” she stutters, trying not to give into him any more than she already has. For a second, she cannot breathe, and she squirms free. She backs away from him on the bed, but he stares into her eyes and follows her. His hand firmly grasps her inner thigh as he pushes his leg between to help force her open. She is startled, but can’t seem to stop him. Her heart races, her breathing is heavy, and her body has a mind of its own.

He leans back down to her ear, licking and nibbling on it. He’s just teasing her. As his hand slowly moves up her thigh, she grabs a handful of the soft sheets in anticipation of when he reaches his goal. Scott pulls himself off her to sit up in the bed, grabbing onto her hips again. This time, though, he quickly flips her onto her stomach, handling her with a manly force. Before she can gain her bearings, she feels her pencil skirt being pulled up to her hips. She didn’t notice that while he was fondling her, his other hand was busy undoing his own pants. In one swift move, she feels him behind her, pushing her flimsy excuse for underwear aside and pushing himself deep inside her with a forceful thrust. She lets out a loud gasp and her body arcs to this unexpected turn of events. He holds still against her, letting the shock of the moment wear off. Her body melts back into the bed, realizing how much she’s missed this feeling. As he begins to slowly pull out, she pushes back against him, not wanting him to stop. Renae moans loud enough that she’s sure whoever is in the room next to them has heard. His hand slides firmly around her one shoulder as his other wraps around her waist.

She grips the white sheets tightly with both of her hands, her face pressed into the mattress. She can barely breathe but she doesn’t care. She closes her eyes and arches her back, anticipating his moves. His starting thrusts go deep inside her, sending intense waves through her body, her hands clenching and squeezing at the sheets while his rhythm starts to pick up. There’s no use in fighting these urges any longer, so she gives into him, softly whispering under her breath how badly she wants this. His pace quickens, his own hands fumbling around her body, grabbing at her hair and neck, his other hand clenching the dress at the small of her back, pulling her forcefully back against him. She can hear his breathing getting heavier as she feels him grow inside her, and with a loud groan, his movement comes to a quivering halt as he collapses against her for support.

She slowly slides her knees down underneath him as he comes to rest his body on top of her, wrapping his arm around her neck and the other under her stomach. He nuzzles against her with some light kisses to her flushed cheeks, smelling her sweat mixing with her perfume. He lets out a sigh of relief and satisfaction while catching his breath as they turn while he rolls off beside her. She watches as he gets dressed like nothing happened.

“The conference,” he says. “We have to go.”

“Uh, yeah,” she replies. Her legs feel weak and she’s unsure about whether or not she’ll be able to walk properly. She swings her legs over the side of the bed and takes a deep breath. She touches the carpet of the hotel room floor with her big toe.
So far so good.
She stands, wobbly, pulling her skirt back into place and smoothing out the wrinkles in her blouse.

Chapter Eight

“Scott Reed, where the hell were you?” the director whispers as Scott casually strolls into the room.

“Sorry. Had some issues I had to deal with,” Scott replies. Everyone in the room is staring at him. Renae walks in by his side feeling insecure. She wonders if anyone knows what just happened between them—if she has that look on her face like she just had sex. She’s certain that she’s blushing.

“Glad you could finally join us,” someone seemingly important at the head of the table says sternly.

“Hi everyone. Sorry I was late. I’ve prepared a PowerPoint presentation for all of you to enjoy, that will outline this quarter’s numbers, and show you exactly in what direction we, at Danis Accounting, are going,” Scott announces, making his way to the front of the room.

Renae quietly sinks into a seat at the back and slouches down. Her drinks from last night are catching up with her and her hangover finally hits her. Her head is pounding and her eyes are sensitive to the light. She watches as Scott paces back and forth, lecturing the rest of the room as though he’s teaching a class.

Feeling nauseous, Renae jumps from her chair and slips out of the room. She barely makes it to the washroom down the hall on time before she vomits profusely in the garbage can. The room is spinning. She expels her insides so violently that she begins to cry. She collapses onto the presumably dirty floor and buries her head between her knees. She remains in this position for the next half hour, only lifting her head to vomit more. Then, she returns to her room, where she pulls off her skirt and blouse and crawls into her bed—while thoughts of Scott behind her crawl into her head.

Perhaps she’ll actually get a bit of sleep. She floats off into her subconscious.

***

Renae is awakened by a knock on the door. Startled, she sits up in bed with a jolt, and looks at the alarm clock on the nightstand. She has slept for six hours.

She’s missed the entire day’s meetings. It was unintentional. She really only wanted to take a quick power nap and then head back to the conference, refreshed and alive, but that didn’t happen. She feels the pit of her stomach twisting up when she realizes she might actually lose her job over this.

There is a knock at the door again.

She hops out of bed and scans the room for her clothing. She finds it exactly where she left it—piled on the floor at the foot of her bed, wrinkled and inside out.

“Uh, coming,” she calls out, but her voice is weak and she stumbles while putting her skirt on. She catches onto the side of the dresser and takes a second to steady herself.
Okay, let’s try this again.
Left leg up, into skirt. Right leg. Both legs are in. Blouse is on and buttoned almost up to the top, except for the last two holes, flirtatiously showing a tiny bit of cleavage to whoever may be interested in looking.

When she finally gets to the door, the hallway is empty. She stands, confused, looking left and right. She closes the door and locks the deadbolt.

***

Scott

Scott opens the door to his hotel room and saunters in. He loosens his tie and pulls off his dress pants. He folds them neatly and places them on the chair by his bed. Reaching into his suitcase, he pulls out the shirt he wore last night. He carries it into the washroom and runs the water in the sink until it’s scalding. He rinses the shirt sleeve under the water and watches as the blood runs down the drain with the water. He wrings the shirt out and dabs on a bit of hand soap. Scrubbing, he realizes that the blood isn’t going to come out that easily. He runs it under the hot water once again, and then hangs it on the shower head. Pink colored water is dripping from the shirt.

He returns to his bed and sits on it, pondering his actions for tonight. He wonders if he’ll ask Renae for more drinks—perhaps they would meet another bartender that way. Or should he just make his way back over to her room and wake her for a second round of sex today? The conference is over and tomorrow they head back home. If he wants to make another move on her, it needs to be done tonight. Once he’s home, he’ll need to deal with the drama of Sophie’s heartbreak, due to the end of their relationship. He’ll have to explain to her that too many men want her and he just can’t deal with that sort of competition—not that he’s afraid he’d lose—he’s certain he’s the most attractive man she’s ever met, but he just doesn’t want to think about other men wanting her. Also, he’s certain she’s been with far too many men for his liking. She seems like the type of woman who would let a man take her out just to get a free meal.

He decides he’s going to just take it easy tonight. Last night’s events with Ashley took far too much energy and now he’s exhausted. He waited for her by her car and when she was done with her shift at work, he asked what she was doing for the rest of the night. She said she had no plans—and no boyfriend. He took that as an invitation to accompany her back to her place. They barely made it down the hallway to her apartment without taking their clothes off. He chased after her and groped her as she giggled, trying to remain as quiet as possible. She fumbled for her keys as he stuck his fingers up her skirt. Once the door was unlocked, Scott threw her against it. It flew open and she slammed back against the wall. They pulled their boots off and he unzipped his pants. She hiked up her skirt, revealing that she had chosen not to wear any underwear. He had her, right there in the entrance of her apartment. She moaned, loudly, as he slammed her body against the wall repeatedly. He pulled her hair so hard that for a second she was sure her neck would snap—and then it did. He finished inside her as he held her still-warm, lifeless body in his arms. He yelled out as he found his release and then let her go. She slid to the floor, her eyes still open.

“Cora?” he whispered. She did not respond.

He bent down, exposed, his pants still unzipped. He touched her cheek. Still no response.

“Not you too,” he whispered angrily. He pulled a knife from his back pocket. With a sigh, he closed his eyes, still crouched over her, and he stabbed outwards with the knife. It pierced through the flesh of her breast and then plunged into her heart. He pulled it out slowly, and watched the blood drip from the sharp blade. He pushed it back into her again, deeper and with more strength this time, and then pulled it out once again.

“Cora?” he asked. Still, no reply as she remained slouched and lifeless. Scott picked her up in his arms, her blood pouring onto the sleeve of his shirt. He carried her into her living room and laid her gently on her couch. His fingers grazed her eyelids and then he carefully closed them. “Goodnight, Cora.”

He slipped out of her apartment quietly, without any of her neighbors noticing. No one had heard her scream for help as he pulled on her hair, because she hadn’t been able to breathe enough to yell with his other hand over her mouth.

Now, after an entire day of meetings, he wishes he had a stiff scotch right now, but he can do without. He’d rather sleep than explore the street to find a new bar. Besides, there’s a blizzard out there. The weather channel had told Scott earlier that there was going to be twenty-five centimeters of snow within the next few hours. Hopefully this doesn’t delay their flights for tomorrow—Scott really doesn’t want to be stuck at an airport all afternoon, waiting for the planes to fly again.

He lay in bed, on his side, staring at the alarm clock. This is an early bedtime for him but he’s excited to feel refreshed in the morning.

Renae reclines in her own bed. It’s an early night for her too. With thoughts of what Scott had done to her body earlier today still fresh in her head, her hand slides beneath the sheets and meets her wetness. She closes her eyes, but she doesn’t fall asleep right away.