by Lynda Aicher
What did that mean, exactly? How did he respond?
“You were right,” she continued. “About the app.” She bit her lip, another wince tugging her brows together. “I wasn’t ready to know about it earlier. Heck,” she scoffed, “I wasn’t ready when I found out about it.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that I should’ve told you.” Withholding information was another form of a secret. “I have no excuse except to say I was being selfish.” Incredibly, possessively selfish. He stroked his thumb over her cheek. “I didn’t want to share you.”
She blinked a few times before leaning in to rest her head on his shoulder. He held her close, still amazed that she allowed him to do so. “I didn’t want to be shared,” she said softly. “I still don’t.”
He squeezed her tighter, his throat thick with relief and gratitude. “And I still want you for myself.”
They stood like that for a long moment. A sense of peace settled in, the weeks of angst, regrets and numbness finally departing. Her hand rose and fell in a gentle stroke of comfort over the small of his back. He wanted to stand there forever. A part of him was still afraid that if he let go, she’d be gone.
“Can this really work between us?” she asked.
He shoved back, framing her face with his hands in a desperate attempt to get her to believe him. To trust him. “Yes.” He left no doubt in his voice. “Yes. We can work. We already do.” In so many ways. From their easy conversations to their shared likes to their mutual kinks. “You—” He swallowed, hunted for the right words. But there were only a few that he needed. “I love you, Avery. I don’t know how it happened or if I deserve you, but I love you.”
The admission hung between them in that wobbly space of “oh, shit” and “fuck yes.” His heart expanded to fill him with certainty. It spread to his face, his mouth curling with a joy he couldn’t contain.
“I love you so damn much,” he repeated, unable to hold it in now that he’d set it free. He let it shine from him in a way that left him totally exposed. His declaration could backfire, but he was done fearing it. Love could suck. It could change. It could hurt.
But it could bring so much good too.
And he wanted all of it with Avery.
Her mouth quivered, but a smile peeked through as her fingers dug into his hips. She bit her lip, stopping the nervous flutter before it broke free into a full grin.
His heart seemed to race and stop at once. It didn’t matter if she didn’t return the words, not yet. She just needed to give him a chance to prove how much he meant them.
He dipped his head, pausing right before his lips touched her. She searched him, a warmth pooling in her eyes that communicated so much.
“I missed you,” she whispered, her lips brushing his.
His chest contracted around the hope begging to be set free. He brushed his lips to hers in a gentle agreement. He was afraid to speak again. Afraid to ruin what was so close to being really, really good.
She blinked, swallowed. “We still have some things to work through.”
“I know.” But they’d do it. He swore they could. “I have a lot to make up for.”
She ran a hand up his chest, sending off a wave of longing. “We’re still figuring this thing out.”
“We are.”
“There’re bound to be bumps.”
“There are.”
She circled a hand around his neck to draw him closer. “But I think this is good.”
“It is.” He could barely breathe let alone answer in more than two syllables.
Her lips brushed his, but just a touch. She nudged his nose with her own in a tender connection that reached his toes. He wrapped an arm around her waist, every nerve ending poised to attack when she gave the signal. “I love you, Carson Haggert.”
He swooped in then, unable to restrain himself a second longer. He claimed her mouth with all the love and crazy relief pumping through him. The rightness sizzled over his skin and hummed in his heart. He’d locked love out for so damn long, now he couldn’t get enough.
Not of her or her touch or the connection flowing so strongly between them.
He pulled back and sucked in a harsh breath. He lifted her by the hips to set her on the island. She gasped, but drew him in with her legs in the next moment. She wrapped him up tight with her limbs, a hand snaking through his hair as she smiled.
“I love it when you get demanding like that.”
She would never stop amazing him. He dove back in, determined to show her what he’d failed to say. How much he treasured her. How much he cared for her. How much she meant to him.
He softened the kiss until each stroke of his tongue became a promise. This was real, and he fully embraced what that implied. There were no guarantees, but this right here with Avery was pretty damn close to perfect.
Epilogue
Avery followed Carson into the boardroom, her hand clasped in his. A skyline of lights twinkled in the distance through the large windows. Nearby was an array of other buildings, some with windows still lit, others mostly dark.
A smile twisted over her lips as she took in the room. A couple made out at the end of the long table, their embrace heated if her soft moans were an indication. The woman was stripped to her matching bra and panty set, while the man remained fully dressed in his dark suit.
The image was similar to their other visits to the Boardroom, yet each one was uniquely different. Maybe it was the varying locations or the people involved or the energy of each scene, but although the compositions remained similar, the events themselves weren’t.
Carson positioned her in front of him and tucked them into the back corner of the room. They were closer to the couple this time. Instead of being separated by the table, they were at the same end. The proximity brought a series of goose bumps over her bare arms, her nipples tightening in response.
She didn’t recognize the couple, but the room was very familiar. The cherry credenza at the other end, the long wood table, the black office chairs, the whiteboard and abstract art. They’d returned to the location of her first introduction to the Boardroom, even if it’d been accidental. There was something naughty about that. Both exciting and wrong at once.
Would anyone know tomorrow when they sat at the table? Would that heavy sent of sex and lust linger to give them a hint? Would the table bear any marks? Or a chair?
She doubted it, but she would know. She’d remember how the woman arched her back, head falling to expose her throat. And how she followed the motion, her own head dropping to rest on Carson’s shoulder.
“What do you want?” Carson whispered into her ear. He ran his hands over her abdomen, his touch firm, sure. So like him.
She lifted a hand to grasp the back of his head, holding him close. “Whatever you give me.” Her voice was quiet, yet husky with desire. She trusted him again, with this and her heart.
Their first trip back to the Boardroom after the app incident had been another learning experience for both of them. She’d discovered that she liked not knowing what to expect as opposed to reading the details beforehand. The app showed everything. The players, the scene expectations, limits, safe words and kinks. All of which were essential to a safe and successful scene, but it spoiled something for her.
She didn’t have to know the information if Carson was with her. He took care of the details. He ensured she was safe while giving her more than she could imagine on her own. She wasn’t wearing blinders or denying her wants. No, if anything, she’d admitted more.
She liked having Carson in charge. Trusting him set her free to simply feel. No worries. No concerns. No more fear. Even the threat of exposure was minimized with Carson at her side. He gave her strength, which allowed her to pull from her own.
The Boardroom had brought them together, and now it brought them even closer.
“Ha
ve I told you how beautiful you are?” He nipped her earlobe, the sting sharp yet hot.
“Yes.” He told her all the time, but he showed her even more frequently. With his tender touches and the heat in his gaze. And when he brought her coffee at work or made her breakfast or held her hand as they walked or...
The door opened, and Avery stilled. Her heart jumped, pulse thumping hard. Had they been caught? By whom?
A stocky man with dark hair and a beard shadow stepped into the room, his presence capturing the attention of everyone. He shut the door, a smirk curling the edge of his mouth.
“You can see we waited,” Carson said, a dryness to his tone.
The new guy loosened his tie, tugging it off to spread it across the table. The streak of red lay like a declaration against the wood. He undid his belt buckle, slid his belt off before curling it into loose loops and setting it beside the tie.
Avery could only stare, enthralled by the power reeking from him and the authority of his movements.
Carson stroked his hand down her side as he scraped his teeth up her neck. “He’s going to fuck her,” he whispered. “Hard and deep.”
She swallowed, the image already seared into her mind. Her pussy clenched, that crazy wanting need vibrating from her core.
“They both are,” Carson said. He cupped her breasts, one in each hand as the new guy rolled up his cuffs and undid the top three buttons on his shirt.
Her breath caught, desire racing through her on the rapid beat of her pulse.
“At the same time.” Carson pinched her nipples through the silky material of her dress, the dual sensation driving home the implication of his words.
Her eyes widened and her legs dipped with the sudden flash of heat that raced south from her nipples. She’d fantasized about that the first night in this boardroom. She’d mentioned it to Carson one night when they’d been cuddling in bed, their limbs heavy from sex. She had no doubt that he’d planned this for her.
In any other situation, she would’ve been embarrassed, but not here. Not with Carson.
These scenes were about feeling without guilt or shame. It’d taken her a while to reach that point, but she had and she wasn’t going back. Carson had opened a door into a secret part of her soul that had exposed a passion she reveled in now.
This was her. Carson was hers, and she had nothing to be ashamed of. Not at work. Not in front of others. Not in her own head.
Avery sucked in a breath and rocked her hips against Carson’s erection. It slid along that line up her back in a declaration of his lust. Their relationship had evolved into so much more than this, but she’d never regret how it had started or where it’d brought them.
This was a part of them, but not even close to all of what they had together.
“Go to them,” Carson ordered.
The new guy came up behind the other woman. He wrapped an arm around her waist before jerking the other guy in with a hand at his nape. He claimed the guy’s mouth in a hard kiss that was at once brutal and stunning.
Oh...hell. That was so damn hot. The men’s kiss contained a hard possessiveness that wrapped around Avery and drew her in. It was raw and intense, yet there was a woman between them. She sucked on the neck of the first guy and writhed between the two hard bodies.
Avery’s head spun on the wave of eroticism. She never would’ve had the nerve to suggest a scene like this, yet she didn’t want it to stop. No, she couldn’t wait to see where it went.
Just like her relationship with Carson. This was her happy-ever-after and she wasn’t going to judge it. Not now, not ever.
This was them and the only opinions that mattered were theirs.
* * * * *
To purchase and read more books by Lynda Aicher, please visit Lynda’s website at lyndaaicher.com.
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Now Available from Carina Press and Lynda Aicher
In the Boardroom, exhilarating pleasures happen after hours.
Chapter One
“Sure. Right.” Trevor James shut down his computer, only half listening to the phone conversation. “Of course.” He placed the documents on his desk into his drawer and locked it. “Okay.”
He scanned his desktop, returned a pen to the holder at the corner of his desk. The pristine surface left nothing for him to fiddle with. A glance at the time had him groaning silently.
“Do we have to discuss this now?” he interjected, prepared for the coming reprimand. “It’s one in the morning for you.” And ten o’clock for him. He had far more important things to do in that moment than listen to his father.
“The markets are open in the Far East,” Howard Faulkner countered, like that explained his urgent need to discuss company business.
Trevor pinched the bridge of his nose and called on the patience he’d spent forty-one years cultivating when dealing with his father. “I have to go,” he said, voice flat. “We can discuss the rest tomorrow. After I’m in the office.”
The distance didn’t dilute the disapproval shoved through the harsh grunt. “You’ll never run this company if you’re only available from nine to five.”
Great. Fucking excellent news.
As the president of the San Francisco office of Faulkner Investment Group, Trevor had built the office into the most profitable one within the company. It even outpaced the headquarters in New York City, which was his father’s domain. But apparently that wasn’t good enough.
No, none of that mattered, not when it was his good fortune to be Howard Faulkner’s one and only child.
Maybe he should’ve lobbied to take over the Hong Kong office. Would that have been far enough from his father’s reach? Probably not. The moon would still be too close.
Trevor spun his chair around to stare blindly at the glowing lights of the Bay Bridge in the distance. “Then I guess you’d better hand off the company to one of the Yes Men who kiss your ass all day long.”
The abrupt harrumph was expected, and he smiled at the sheer predictability. The entire conversation was redundant and pointless. His father was going to die in his big office chair in Manhattan, and everything would be handed over to Trevor whether he wanted it or not.
This is your heritage. You will work here. You should be proud of your name.
He was so damn proud of the last statement that he’d legally changed it to his mother’s maiden name when he’d turned eighteen. At least he’d had a few years of relative anonymity before he’d knotted his tie and stepped into the company fold.
“You wish,” his father snarled with yet another predictable volley.
Trevor waited a beat, sarcastic disgust twisting in his stomach as he turned his phone around to see that the call had been disconnected. Of course it had. The ending rally by his father rarely varied. And his own “I truly do” was only heard by him.
Fucking A. He heaved a sigh before shoving the annoyance aside. This was not new, and it wasn’t going to change until the old man died. Retirement wasn’t in the vocabulary of a man who didn’t know what vacation meant. Or sleep.
He rechecked the time and mentally shuffled his priorities for his next appointment. He’d discarded his suit jacket three hours back when his executive assistant had finally departed for the night. He removed his tie now, draped it over his desk and set his watch next to it before he unbuttoned his collar and rolled up his sleeves. His belt came off last. He slid it free and curled it into a loose loop before setting it beside the other items.
He’d prepared the boardroom earlier after he’d walked through both floors of the office to ensure he was alone. The unnatural hush of the space was both settling and disturbing. Over one hundred people worked there, and most of them w
ould be shocked if they found out about tonight’s meeting.
The hallway was dark except for the soft shine of the recess lighting in the lobby below. A quick glance over the rail confirmed that no one had arrived yet. Good. He hated being late.
The surrounding buildings and the glow of the moon provided a pale light in the boardroom when he entered it. He pushed back most of the chairs so they lined the interior wall and the row of floor-to-ceiling windows that made up the exterior wall. The condoms were spread across the coffee credenza next to a packet of wipes. He placed more at one end of the table along with a few lengths of material, two sets of leather wrist cuffs and a flogger—just in case.
He opened the Boardroom app on his phone, anticipation ramping up his lust. The custom application had been designed by him and created specifically for this group. Pride rose in his chest. He glanced through the short list of planned scenes taking place around the city tonight and in the near future. He’d orchestrated this, and in the process, had given every member the freedom to play and explore their sexual desires in a safe, sex-positive environment.
His father would curl his righteous, indignant old toes if he had one iota of a clue that his precious son was the mastermind of a private sex group.
He made one last check of the players for his scene and froze. Concern flashed in before he could block it. One woman had dropped out, but another had filled her spot.
That was fine. It happened all the time.
There wasn’t anyone in the group whom he’d object to fucking—man or woman. Sex was sex. As long as everyone agreed to what was going on, everything was good.
But he hadn’t expected Danielle. Not tonight. Not here.
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