The Ruthless Gentleman

by Louise Bay

  But a blind man would have understood that Avery was unhappy as she leaned against my office door, her arms folded, her eyes downcast.

  Shit.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, stuffing my hands into my pockets. “What did Skylar say?”

  She shook her head. “No. I need to tell you something that happened today. This morning after I left the hotel. I’ve not had a chance—”

  “Are you okay? Is this about Skylar?”

  “Please just listen to me. This weird guy approached me. He was asking about you.”

  I didn’t understand what this had to do with Skylar and me getting Avery into trouble. “What guy?”

  “I don’t know. Some British guy. He asked me lots of questions about the boat and you. Offered me money to tell him stuff.”

  “Tell him what?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I mean, sometimes we get paps offering us money to confirm which celebrity’s on our boat but this guy wanted to know about your work. And he said I’d confirmed to him you were on the boat and if I did, Hayden, I’m sorry. I got a little freaked out and he was telling me I knew more than I said I did and I was confused and trying to get away from him.”

  Her words were tumbling out and her voice was getting higher and higher.

  “Shhh,” I said and moved toward her, but she put her hand out, her palm facing me to stop me. Fuck, I hated that. I wanted to comfort her, to make things better. “Seriously, don’t worry. This boat was booked in my name. It wouldn’t be difficult for someone to find out where I was. I’m on holiday. That’s how it’s meant to look if anyone sees me or finds out where I am.”

  “I didn’t ruin it for you? I don’t think I told him but maybe I did.”

  She was so fucking worried about me when she was the one who was potentially going to lose her job. “You didn’t ruin anything.” I’d mention this encounter to my brother. Maybe it was Cannon sneaking around. But Cannon was the least of my worries right at that moment. “Tell me about Skylar, Avery. What happened? Do I need to go and speak to Captain Moss?”

  “She said she hadn’t told anyone. That she wouldn’t.”

  I took a half step toward her, but she slid along the wall and out of my reach. “She’s covering for me. And I hate that she’s had to,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s not right. Last night was . . .” Her words faded as if she was sinking into the memories of the previous evening. Then she pulled in a breath. “But enough. There’s too much at stake for me. This is where it ends.”

  Shit. I should have prepared better for this, worked up arguments. I needed to convince her that . . . What? We were meant to date? Fuck? What was I offering her?

  “We slept together. That’s all,” she said. “I’m not trying to make more of this—”

  I’d had enough of the distance between us. I caged her against the wall, my hands braced on either side of her head.

  Her gaze shot up to meet mine and then hit the floor.

  “Look at me,” I growled.

  She lifted her face and focused on my jaw.

  “Yes, we slept together but don’t dismiss last night as if it’s something that happens to you a lot. You know it was . . .” I clenched my teeth, remembering how she’d felt around my cock, how her hair had slithered over her body like water—how we’d connected, mind, body and soul. “It wasn’t a one-night stand.”

  Not only was Avery the only woman I’d known I’d want to fuck more than once before I’d touched her, she was the only woman I’d thought about after I’d come. She was the only one I’d had to convince to come to my bed and the only one I wanted there again.

  Her gaze darted to my mouth, then up to meet my eyes and back down again. “It can’t be anything else. I need this job. You know that.”

  “You’re not going to lose this job.” Fuck, I had no right to make promises I couldn’t keep. “Not if Skylar doesn’t say anything. We’ll be more careful. I’ll be more careful.” Last night we’d existed in some kind of suspended space and time, and I’d been lazy and selfish thinking that could continue back on the yacht.

  “I can’t risk my brother’s medical bills for some holiday romance with you just because you’re bored.”

  Pushing my hips against hers, I pinned her to the wall and cupped her face in my hands. “I didn’t fuck you because I was bored. I fucked you because I couldn’t help myself. This isn’t a holiday romance.” I wasn’t romantic and I wasn’t on holiday. But more than that, what was between us wasn’t fleeting.

  “Of course it is.” She kicked her leg back in frustration, her heel connecting with the wall.

  It took all my self-control not to close the space between us and kiss her, but I held back, determined to prove this wasn’t all about lust. “It’s more than that for me.” I didn’t know what was happening between us. I wanted her to understand that what I felt wasn’t casual.

  “Last night we weren’t on the yacht and it was easier for me to pretend the rules didn’t apply. Today, it’s different. You’re my guest. I’m a stewardess. That’s how it should stay.”

  “I won’t believe you if say you don’t feel this pull between us,” I whispered.

  “Of course I feel it, but that doesn’t mean it’s right. It doesn’t mean I can give in to it again.”

  I stepped back from her, wanting her to understand how serious I was. I didn’t want her to do something that would cause her pain, but she should know she wasn’t just a convenient fuck for me. I leaned against the desk. “I know I look like I’m being a selfish bastard. I know I have nothing to lose whereas you have put your career on the line. But I can’t let you walk out of here without telling you how I feel.” She deserved my honesty. “I need you to know that I’ve never had a night like last night. I’ve never been on the phone to lawyers about any deal, let alone the deal of my career, and found my mind so full of a woman I have no room for anything else.” I was usually laser focused and especially at times when I was under pressure, but Avery had everything upside down. “You make me want to blow off work and spend all night talking about everything you ever did before I met you. I want to understand what makes you happy, what makes you sad, what makes you angry.” I had an ego to match any man’s, but I’d never before believed that a woman existed just for me. That was how I felt about Avery Walker—she was here for me, made for me, created for me. “I’ve never felt so proud to know someone. And I’ve never felt so fucking lucky that that woman wanted me. I want to scoop you up and bolt off this yacht and go get lost somewhere where it’s just you and me until the end of time.” It was as if my heart was exploding and I was finally able to find words for what I was feeling. “The thought that we might be over just doesn’t make sense to me. What’s between us feels like it will last forever, like it’s timeless.”

  Avery sank her teeth into her bottom lip but remained silent.

  “I haven’t thought about what happens when I leave this boat,” I said. “But I know that I can’t ever imagine not wanting you in my life. I’m a resourceful guy and you’re a born problem solver. We’ll figure this out.”

  She bowed her head. Had I lost her?

  I stepped forward so I was just inches away from her “You want to walk away from this?” I asked. “I’ll hate it, but I’ll never touch you again if you ask me not to.”

  I glanced up to see unshed tears in her eyes. “I don’t want to but I’m afraid. Hearing you . . . I feel all that. And more. But you can’t screw up my redemption.”

  Her words spread hot and sharp through me. Yachting was more than a career for her. This job was more than just a way of paying for her brother’s medical bills. This was about sacrifice and atonement—her assumed guilt for Michael’s accident. I should walk away, push her away. But I was rooted to the spot, as if gravity had misfired and I’d be pulled to wherever she was. “I won’t screw it up,” I whispered and placed a kiss on her collarbone. She didn’t need redeeming. She was the only one who thought she did. “Believe in me. Beli
eve in us.”

  Her knees buckled a little and her hands slid over my shoulders. Jesus, just this woman’s hands on my shirt-covered skin was enough to bring me to the edge.

  “This room is Taormina, right?” I whispered. “In here, we’re Hayden and Avery. Just like yesterday. Through that door . . .” I tipped my head in the direction of the exit. “Out there, I’ll be the guest and you can be the stewardess. I promise I’ll not put you in danger of discovery again.”

  She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. She was almost at the point of saying yes, I just had to sweep my hand up the back of her thigh or press my hardening cock against her hip and she’d relent. But I needed more than that. She had to want this.

  “I feel it,” she whispered. “And I don’t know if I’m more afraid of walking away or of the consequences of staying. I think either will hurt me.”

  I blinked. I wanted to swallow up any hurt she’d ever felt. Any pain she’d ever have.

  “My dad wanted me to do something just for me. To focus more on myself. The problem is the only thing I want for me is you. I want this for me.” She reached up, searching my face, tracing her fingers over my cheek. “Taormina,” she whispered.

  “Taormina,” I whispered back before I pressed my lips to hers, lazily pushing my tongue through her lips to meet hers and I was home, where I belonged. Her hands curled around the back of my neck and I sighed in relief.

  Reaching down, I bunched up her skirt, pulling up the cotton until my fingertips reached her skin. I yanked the skirt up to her waist, leaning back to see the black lace covering her, then pushing the material to the side to examine her pussy. It was pink and perfect and needed to come. She needed to stop thinking and overthinking. Analyzing and overanalyzing. She needed to be reminded of how her body responded to me, how good we were together. I slid two fingers through her folds, gauging her wetness, and I got a sense of smug satisfaction that despite the obvious conflict she had about us, she was still wet for me. As much as her mind tried to resist, her body told me everything I needed to know. I spread my fingers, wanting to feel as much of her as I could as I pushed my tongue back in her mouth to dull her little moans.

  I pressed my fingers into her and circled my thumb over her clit. She gasped and pulled back, her hand tightening around my neck, her thumb tracing the pulse hammering under my skin. The sticky, sweet feel of her goaded my cock until it was begging for more.

  I pressed my hand against the base of her chest and pinned her against the wall as I circled her clit. I pulled my fingers out, circled, then pushed them back in. I wanted to watch as she came, wanted to see on her face what I could do—how no man had ever made her come as quickly or as hard. She squirmed under my touch and her hand snapped to my wrist but didn’t seek to remove it. Instead she spread her fingers as if she was trying to communicate with me.

  “Hayden,” she whispered. “I want you to fuck me.”

  I nodded, not letting my fingers still for a second. I was still pushing and pulling, circling and pressing. “I know. And I will. But you need to come. Just to take the edge off. Just as a warm up. I need you relaxed when I shove my cock inside you.”

  She slumped an inch down the wall as her legs began to shake. She wouldn’t last long. My fingers hadn’t been inside her pussy two minutes and she was on the cusp of coming all over my hand. Her hips flicked, and I pushed deeper into her wetness as our mouths stilled, connected but quiet, our breaths mingling as I concentrated on the press and quiver of her pussy as she fucked my hand and my hand fucked her. She stiffened, then her hands fell from my wrist. As her orgasm shivered across her body, she looked at me.

  I released her as her body sagged.

  “You see? You needed that. You needed to let go.” I lifted her and spun her around and sat her on my desk.

  “And what do you need?” She traced her index finger along my eyebrow. The softness in her expression was back. The determination and practicality had left her, and I took pride in knowing I’d done that. I’d helped her forget, just for a few minutes.

  “I need you,” I replied.

  Avery

  I slid my legs wide open on the desk, still boneless from my orgasm but ready for more. Ready for everything he could give me . . . and for any consequences that would follow.

  I opened his shorts, but he was so hard against the buttons that my fingers faltered with impatience.

  He gasped as the fastening released and his cock burst out, hard and hot and ready to fuck me. My pussy twitched, and I licked my lips.

  He groaned, and my eyes shot up in warning.

  “We have to be quiet,” I whispered.

  It was as much a warning to me as to him. Last night the hotel had provided freedom in more ways than one. But now we had to be more careful.

  He grinned as he fingered the edge of my polo shirt, then pulled it up. I lifted my arms and he tossed it over his shoulder. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom before letting his shorts drop.

  I swallowed and reached for the condom, but he pulled it from my reach.

  “Patience. You’ll feel me soon enough,” he said as he tore the wrapper and rolled the latex over his tip.

  Soon wasn’t soon enough. I clenched at the thought of his cock and how it felt as it pushed inside me—hard and soft, brutal and gentle.

  I grunted and arched my back at the memory. Hayden chuckled. “If that’s what just the sight of my cock does to you, what about this?” he asked, pushing into me in one deep, unexpected movement.

  He glanced down at me, his eyes soft. “Breathe.”

  I exhaled, my chest lowering as I tried to relax so he didn’t feel as if he were going to split me in two. I looked down to where we were joined, and he was deep inside me. Just a fingertip’s width of his cock was on display. I reached down and smoothed my finger over his hard, silky skin. He tipped his head back and gasped. I didn’t know which I liked more, the feel of him so deep or the sounds I could elicit from him.

  I slid my palms up his strong stomach to his chest and he watched me. He didn’t need to say anything. We were just there, in that moment, joined.

  Eventually, he started to move, slowly and deliberately. “Feels good,” he said, part question, part statement. The vibration of his voice skirted over my skin and I wondered if anything would ever feel quite as good again.

  I nodded, inhaling sharply as he thrust into me again with such force it was almost painful.

  His hands pressed into my ass, keeping me in place and pinning me to the desk. He bent his head, his end-of-day shadow scratching against my cheek, setting sparks of lust desperate to burst into flame.

  I wanted more, harder, faster, longer. I reached for him—his face, his chest, his arms, his stomach—every part of me trying to convey what I needed. “Please,” I whispered through clenched teeth.

  “Avery,” he whispered back as he thrust in again. “Avery. Avery. Avery.” He set out in a rhythm of pleasure and skin and sweat as he pistoned in and out of me. It felt as if my body was made for this. For him. For what we were doing.

  I reached around his neck and braced my other palm on the desk, steadying myself so he could get deep, so deep. I caught my breath as he dipped lower, changing the angle so it felt as if his cock was even bigger than before.

  Something landed on the floor and even though it felt like it happened two rooms away, I knew one of us had knocked something off the desk. We were making more noise than we should—the creak of furniture, the slap of skin against skin, the buried sounds of ecstasy. It was all louder than it should have been, but I couldn’t stop, didn’t want to. Whatever the consequence, it was all worth it for how he looked at me, touched me, what he did to my body.

  I curled my fingers, my nails biting into his skin as my orgasm murmured out of my belly and up my spine. As if he knew how close I was, our eyes met, and I panicked because I didn’t want it to be over so soon . . . but I didn’t think I could stop it.

  He nodded as if
he could see what I was thinking. I frowned but he dropped a kiss on the top lip of my open mouth. “Come,” he said.

  I had no choice but to do as he said. My body convulsed as my climax ran through me like lightning through water—hot and bright and everywhere.

  My grip gave way and Hayden’s hands left my hips and guided me down so I was lying on the desk. My fear about it being over was unwarranted, and I smiled as Hayden continued to fuck me on the desk, his fingers skirting my body. Absentmindedly, he flicked my hard nipples as his hands traveled over my skin. As if there was a connection right to my groin, I moaned. He leaned over me and covered my mouth with his palm as his pace increased. He knew I’d lost all control. I would do anything he asked right at that moment—fuck him on the main deck, in the galley. Whatever he wanted, wherever it pleased him.

  His thrusts became sharper, harder, and with his free hand he reached between us and his thumb found my clit. I arched my back and mumbled into his palm, tightening around him.

  His eyes didn’t leave my face, and because I wanted to watch him as he came, I tried to keep my lids from falling closed, overwhelmed from the sheer perfection of it all. This time, my orgasm came quickly and the force of it was unexpected, leaving my legs shaking and my body shuddering. My climax was the final straw for Hayden. His jaw tightened and his fingers left my clit and clamped over my upper arm, holding me in place as he thrust into me, once, twice.

  “Avery,” he spluttered in a choked whisper as he came, our eyes locked together, our bodies pressing and joined. In answer, I threaded my fingers through his hair and smiled at him. How could I have thought I might give him up? Even if I only got to have him for a few more weeks, I had to take as much as I could get.

  He curled over me, pressing his skin against mine as our heartbeats crashed against each other, the rest of our bodies still, anchored to each other. I’d give anything if we could just press pause and exist only in this room and let the rest of the world melt away.