On the Record (Record #2)(74)
Author: K.A. Linde

Liz shook her head as she slowly, almost painfully slowly, began to slide back the edge of the compartment. “You think I’m going to suck your dick and then go see Brady?”

“At least I’d get off.”

Yeah, he deserved this.

The hole in the compartment was just wide enough to stick her hand in. She licked her lips and tried to take even breaths. They were so close to her house, and she needed to time this just right.

They stopped at a red light and Liz for sure thought she was going to start sweating when he turned to look at her. She held his gaze perfectly, though, not wavering once. If she did, she was sure that he was going to notice that something was amiss . . . like the fact that she was leaning into him and the compartment containing his phone was open.

“So what do you say?” Clay asked with that same dimpled smirk.

“I still think no,” Liz responded.

The light changed and they were off again. Liz breathed a soft sigh of relief when he had to look where he was going again. Her fingers slowly inched into the compartment, then her palm, and then her hand all the way to the wrist.

“Your loss.”

“What, like giving you head is a privilege?” she managed to ask with a disbelieving laugh.

“It is.”

Liz scoffed. “Men. Always thinking with the wrong head.”

Her fingers brushed against his phone and she slowly lifted the device into her hand. Now to get it out of there.

“As if you weren’t thinking about my dick when you let me take you back to my place.”

When Clay turned his head at a stop sign to check for traffic, Liz lifted the phone out of the compartment and with a gulp pushed it down under her leg. She pressed her finger on the button to the compartment, gingerly clicked it back into place, and then righted herself.

“That was then and this is now,” Liz said with an uneasy shrug.

Holy shit! She had his phone. She couldn’t believe it. Her stomach was in knots with anticipation and worry about the last couple minutes of the drive.

“Women. So fickle,” he grumbled. “Where am I taking you anyway?”

Liz gave Clay directions for the last few turns, and then he pulled the Porsche up in front of her house. She saw Victoria’s and Daniel’s cars in the driveway. If they weren’t already in a sex coma, she was sure they were going to have a million questions. But first she needed to get the f**k out of Clay’s car.

“Thanks for driving me,” Liz told him before popping the door open and sliding the phone into her hand.

“I couldn’t let you try to walk back.”

“I thought you might let me.”

“No farther than the end of the driveway. Long enough for you to realize how stupid it was,” he said. The dimples in his cheeks were visible as she hastily stepped out of the car. She moved her hand behind her body to keep it from his vision.

“Night,” she said, moving to push the door closed with the other hand.

“Hey!” he called, stopping her.

The blood pumped through her veins. She was this far. He couldn’t know. She was this close!

“Yeah?” she murmured.

“You forgot your purse,” he said, pointing at the small bag on the floor.

Liz breathed out heavily. Oh thank God! She grabbed the purse off of the floor of the car, slammed the door shut, and practically sprinted into her house. She shut the front door and leaned her back against it, breathing in and out heavily, her chest heaving.

“Holy shit,” she whispered into the quiet house.

She slid the lock into place carefully before taking the phone back into her bedroom. She kicked off her high heels, stripped out of her party dress, and then threw on some sweats. Taking a seat on the bed, she opened the phone, swiped her finger across the touch screen, and it lit up in her hand.

She was in.

Her hands trembled as she searched Clay’s contacts for Brady. There were four numbers listed: D.C. office, N.C. office, personal, and work. Since she had gone to the trouble of stealing Clay’s phone, she transferred all of them into her phone, even though the only number that she was planning to use tonight was his personal one.

Liz placed Clay’s phone down on her nightstand before pulling back up Brady’s personal number and clicking Send. She could hear her heart beat in her ears as she waited for him to answer. It rang four times and then went to voice mail. Liz ended the call. She couldn’t leave him a voice mail.

All of that trouble, and he didn’t pick up her call.

She sat on her bed for a solid minute, just staring off into space wondering what the hell her life had become. How the hell had she gotten to this place? All she wanted to do was find a way to make it right, and still she couldn’t do that. She had blown her second chance and didn’t deserve another one. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to fight for that.

Then the lightbulb turned on. Clay’s phone. He would answer Clay’s phone. She would have to do some major explaining as to how she acquired the phone, but at least she would get to speak with Brady.

Liz snatched the phone back off of the nightstand, found Brady’s personal number, and dialed. Her foot tapped anxiously on the floor.

Ring.

She could get through this. She just needed to talk to him.

Ring.

She didn’t know what she was going to say, but it didn’t matter. She would wing it. It was Brady. She had to do something.

Ring.

He wasn’t going to answer. She had done this for nothing . . .

“Clay,” Brady’s gruff voice scolded through the phone, “where the f**k have you been? We’re on lockdown over here. Everyone is freaking out and you just disappear. This is so like you. Why can’t you do one thing that would make someone other than yourself happy?”

“Brady,” Liz whispered into the phone.

There was a pregnant pause on the other line. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Liz?” he breathed in disbelief.

Chapter 25

TALK FIRST

Hey,” Liz said softly. All of the bold words that she had been planning to say to him flitted out of her mind at his smooth, sexy voice.

“You’re calling me from Clay’s phone,” he said, confused.

“Yeah.”

“How did you get Clay’s phone?”

Liz bit her lip. Well, this was going to be fun. “It’s kind of a long story. I had to get hold of you. I really need to talk to you. Can we meet up?”

“What?” he asked, and then seemed to realize what she had asked. His voice turned cold. “No. I think that is a terrible idea. I told you.” He took a deep breath and then whispered, “I told you not to call me again, that I wasn’t going to be there when he hurt you.”