Coldhearted Boss

by Grey, R. S.

  “How do you know I have no interest in him?” I ask, dredging up what little energy I have left for verbal swordplay. “Maybe Tanner’s just the guy for me, sunny and happy all the time.”

  He laughs mockingly, finishing his lazy perusal of my body before he flicks his attention back to my face. “And yet you’ve seemed bored all day.” I turn to walk away and his hand wraps around my elbow, keeping me near him. “I only meant it’s obvious you and Tanner aren’t going anywhere. Not only is he in love with my sister, you’re interested in someone else as well.”

  “Oh really?”

  His hand loosens enough that it feels more like a caress than anything else. His touch is hot. Searing. His thumb drags slowly down the inside of my forearm, inching toward my wrist.

  I stand there with my head tipped back and my icy gaze frozen on his, waiting for a continued attack, waiting for the shots to be fired so I can pretend they’ve missed their mark and carry on with my day as best as possible.

  But then he steps closer and his thigh hits mine. My breasts brush against his chest and only my thin swimsuit separates our skin. I gather a deep breath.

  “You asked me the other day if I was tired,” he says, using his other hand to lift my chin, bringing our faces closer. “Do you remember that?”

  I say nothing. In fact, I don’t even move, so he continues.

  “You wondered what it would be like if we put our weapons down. At the time, you mentioned friendship, which is why I rebuffed your offer. Friendship is for someone like Tanner, someone who is willing to sit around for two years and wait for the person he loves to make up her damn mind. Unfortunately, I don’t have Tanner’s patience. So again, you asked me if I was tired…” His sultry gaze is narrowed on my mouth as he says, “I’m fucking exhausted, so no more games. No more pretending I don’t love the way you look in this red bathing suit. No more pretending I don’t hunt for you every time you enter a room. No more pretending your wit and smart mouth aren’t the perfect match for mine.”

  His words have the effect of warm lips dragging down my body. My insides clench tight and I feel as if I’m swaying on my feet.

  “Taylor, you hungry?” Tanner asks suddenly, a few feet behind us.

  It seems dinner is ready.

  Ethan smirks then, stepping back to release me. It’s a miracle I remain standing.

  “She’s starved.”

  Chapter 26

  Taylor

  It’s late and I can’t sleep. Isla and Camille are both nestled nicely on the bunk beds. I took the floor again even though they both offered to swap with me. It just seemed easier this way, especially now when I sit up and push the thin sheet off my legs. I know I won’t be able to sleep any time soon. My body is buzzing with nervous energy. I feel like I chugged four Red Bulls and then chased them with three espresso shots.

  I glance down at my oversized t-shirt and consider grabbing pants, but I don’t want to wake either of them up by rustling through my drawer. Also, I wouldn’t mind feeling the cool night air on my bare legs. Maybe it’s just what I need.

  I slip on the pair of Isla’s sandals she lent me all day and am careful to close the door behind me gently enough that it doesn’t make a sound.

  With a small lantern in tow, I set off down the path. The forest is awake with me, owls and crickets and cicadas reminding me I’m not alone as I head toward the camp.

  I have no destination in mind.

  I just had to do something.

  I couldn’t lie on that floor for another second, replaying Ethan’s words in my mind, dissecting every part. I talked myself in circles: maybe he was drunk, maybe he was still playing a vicious game, maybe he wanted to teach me a lesson…or maybe he was telling the truth.

  I pass the row of tents and wonder if he’s inside one of them. I could go over and see, but I’d be mortified if I stumbled upon one of the couples instead. So, I follow the trail down to the lake and freeze when I spot a low fire burning through the trees.

  Everyone went to bed a while ago. I’m not sure who was in charge of dousing the campfire, but I worry they might have forgotten until I continue down the path and spot Ethan sitting on a blanket, alone, with the lake at his back.

  He’s lost in thought, his arms wrapped around his knees and a beer seemingly forgotten in his hands.

  I walk until I’m on the other side of the fire and when he looks up, I realize he must have spotted me a while back because he doesn’t look surprised. His possessive gaze eats me up from head to toe as if he’s saying, Those legs belong to me, so why are you standing all the way over there?

  “Couldn’t sleep?” I ask gently, unsure of what we are now. Friends? Enemies? Should I back away slowly or step around this fire?

  “I was waiting,” he says, and the words aren’t teasing or seductive. They’re heartfelt and earnest. “For you,” he continues, shaking his head and finishing off his beer before setting it down on the grass beside the blanket.

  My stomach flips as I tip my head to the side and smile.

  “We were together all day, you know.”

  His attention is on the fire now. When he speaks again, he sounds as if he’s speaking straight from the heart. “No. You were off in your own world.”

  “And you were with Camille.”

  There. The jealousy has been given a voice, and it feels good to let him know—so good, in fact, I continue, “You smiled at her so much today.”

  “Smiled?”

  I wrap my arms around my waist self-consciously. “Yes. You enjoyed yourself, something that doesn’t happen very often when you’re in my company.”

  He grins, then a soft chuckle escapes him. “If you think I haven’t enjoyed the last few weeks, you’re wrong.” His gaze flicks back to my shirt. “Dead wrong.”

  The fire crackles between us, but it’s dying down. Soon, it’ll be nothing but embers.

  I frown down at my loose t-shirt, wishing I’d planned my outfit a little better, but when I glance up from beneath my lashes, Ethan doesn’t seem to give a damn about what I’m wearing.

  His eyes are stormy black and his jaw is locked tight.

  “Did you mean what you said earlier?” I ask, finally picking up where he left off, wanting answers once and for all.

  He frowns at the fire. “If you’re just hoping I’ll repeat it again for your amusement, I won’t.”

  “I was hoping you’d repeat it again for my pleasure,” I reply, a wicked little smile on my lips.

  Tension sparks between us as our gazes catch. We stare so long, my heart hammers in my chest and my stomach clenches tight. I look away first, back down at the ground.

  “Y’know, it’s funny,” he begins. “I knew why Tanner was all over you today and yet I couldn’t seem to rationalize how angry it made me. Maybe it’s because I know there are a million men just like him, swarming around you for reasons that have nothing to do with making another woman jealous.” His eyes meet mine. “I won’t stand in line, waiting for my turn.”

  I wet my lips and wait for words, but words don’t seem good enough anymore. He made the first move earlier, so it’s my turn now. I won’t let this rare confessional lead to another dead end. I won’t wake up frustrated and hot in that cabin, alone and angry about it.

  I walk around the fire as he watches me and when I reach the edge of his blanket, I kick off my sandals and continue up onto the soft fabric until I’m standing right in front of him. With the fire behind me, I cast him in shadow.

  I’ve come to him willingly, all but on hands and knees, and I know from the smolder in his gaze that he’s going to reward me for it. His hand reaches out and wraps around my left ankle then he slowly drags his palm up around my calf, behind my knee, and then higher, spanning the back of my thigh. Goose bumps bloom across my skin. I reach down to trace the contours of his jaw and cheek, letting my fingers glide into his thick hair just as his catch on the outer edge of my panties.

  His thumb hooks inside them and he tugs them hig
her, revealing the bottom curve of my butt before he smooths his hand around and across my hip bone. Again, the material of my panties bunches up under his firm grasp, but he leaves it there, hiked up so it covers me—barely—as he continues his exploration of my body.

  He gathers my t-shirt like a drape and pushes it up, revealing my taut stomach, which is quivering under his heavy gaze. I will myself to calm down, to stop shaking, but he’s seeing so much of me, even more as he pushes my shirt higher and reveals the bottom curves of my full breasts.

  There’s too much to feel at once: the warmth of the fire behind me, the cool breeze blowing off the lake, the rough possessive way his hands heat my skin.

  We’re still in a safe zone. Nothing has been revealed beyond what he’d see if I were in a skimpy bikini, but I’m scared of where we’ll go from here, scared to be on display so openly while he’s still cloaked in shadow. That’s when I realize he’s staying down there on purpose, as if kneeling before me, showing me rather than telling me he’s surrendering.

  His hand curves around my ribcage so reverently my knees buckle, and it’s just as well because I want to be down there with him. I want to feel his broad tan chest, still bare from a day at the lake. His swim trunks are long dry and their cool material brushes against my panties as I nestle myself down onto his lap. I’m barely there for a moment before his hand slides around my back and he brings me in for a hug.

  A hug.

  An embrace that crushes me against him so tightly I think his toned arms might break me in two.

  My eyes squeeze closed as I bury my face in the crook of his neck and breathe him in like I’m trying to absorb him through the air, but it’s not enough. I need more. I press a chaste kiss to his neck then one below his smooth jaw, and I’m about to press another kiss to his cheek when a growl escapes from deep in his chest and he yanks me back, sealing our mouths together.

  A kiss that starts out hard and heavy only grows hotter. Scorching. His mouth slants over mine and I’m a hungry little minx—clawing at his skin, biting his lip, writhing against him.

  His tongue touches mine and my entire body seems to clench in response.

  Our kiss is unending and I can feel his hard length underneath me and I don’t sit still like I should. I brush back and forth along him as if I’m giving him a seductive lap dance. It works me up, moving on him like this, finally giving in to the urge to touch him like I’ve wanted to for all these weeks.

  My hands are everywhere, roving over the ridge of hard muscle along his shoulders, sliding down his toned arms until our hands meet, warm palm against warm palm, our fingers entwining. He kisses me deeper as he squeezes once and then he lets go so his strong hands can move over my body, feeling my curves with greedy possession.

  A ripple of pleasure runs through me as he gathers the sides of my t-shirt and yanks it up over my head. He flings it aside and for all I know it’s kindling now, but what do I care because his hands cover my bare breasts—finally—and he palms their heavy weight almost angrily, like he’s been waiting ages to have them in his grasp and his patience is all used up. I feel him grow harder, feel the resulting shudder as I reach between us and brush my hand across his length. Even with his swim trunks on, the thick ridge feels large and intimidating in my small hand.

  I stroke him tentatively, imagining what it’ll feel like when he slides inside me, stretching and filling me. Our kisses start to burn hotter as his hands grow more and more impatient, toying with me.

  I work my hand faster, stroking him lazily back and forth, and then suddenly he picks me up off him and sets me down on the blanket so he can crawl over me, covering my warm skin with his. His hands are on either side of my head and he keeps his weight off me just enough that I won’t be crushed but not so much that his chest isn’t brushing against my breasts, teasing me. He dips down to kiss my lips and then leans back so the breeze cools my flushed skin. Then his lips fall to my neck and I lift my chin and tangle my fingers in his hair. Down he goes, his lips caressing my collarbone and shoulder. Then they touch the tip of my breast and he delivers a gentle kiss there as well. I arch up off the blanket, yanking him back down, wanting more. His mouth covers me hungrily, eating me up, switching to the other side and bestowing the same sucking, teasing, hot kisses there as well.

  I’m going to shatter apart if we continue, and yet the word “stop” no longer belongs in my vocabulary. There is only yes, please, and keep going.

  We started this so long ago in that bathroom at the bar, and tonight, we’re going to finish it. There’s frantic talk of logistics like condoms and birth control and I’ve never been so worked up, so in a frenzy, so close to breaking into pieces that I think I’ll die if we stop now. I think my heart will explode inside of me and I’ll cease to exist.

  Thank God he agrees we can’t wait. Thank God his fingers are dipping past the hem of my panties, over my wetness, and he swirls once…again…one last time before he pushes lower and sinks a long finger inside me. My eyes squeeze closed and my hands are in his hair as he pumps in and out.

  Words leave my lips, but they’re nothing I hear. They’re pleas for him to continue, protests when he pulls out and leaves me longing.

  He chuckles and then his hands are on either side of my panties. I almost expect him to rip them to shreds with an angry growl, but he sits up on his knees and tugs them down so achingly slow that I know his attention is caught between my legs even if I’m too shy to look and confirm it.

  My eyes are still squeezed shut as his lips press against the inside of my thigh.

  “Sweetest thing,” he murmurs before his mouth moves higher and he licks. My toes curl and my hips buck up off the blanket and he clamps me back in place with his arm, making it so even when I try to rock forward to meet his lips, I can barely move.

  He has a mouth made for sin as evidenced by how skillfully he laps me up. He stays right there between my thighs until I gather the courage to open my eyes, until I look down and meet his gaze. With our eyes locked, his hands grip my thighs and he presses gently, parting me even more as his tongue swirls in a tight circle over and over and over. It’s that combination of movements that has me catapulting toward an orgasm I’m helpless to fend off, a release that feels like it’s been in the works for half my life.

  I roll my hips against him, soaking up every bit of pleasure I can wring out for myself, and still, he’s relentless. My oversensitive skin begs for a reprieve. My body shakes as if unsure of how to continue, but Ethan takes the reins for the both of us. He leans back so he’s hovering over me again. One of his fingers slides into me slowly, replacing his mouth. Then another. The pair of them is nearly too much, but I don’t dare tell him to stop.

  My first orgasm was nothing but a small promise of what’s to come. I feel hungrier than ever as I watch him sit back and untie his swim trunks just enough to pull himself out and pump his fist up and down slowly. He’s encased by the faint glow of the fire, like a demon come to life. No—an angel. His gaze is between my legs as he strokes himself with one hand and continues pumping two fingers inside of me with the other. It’s timed perfectly and as our eyes meet again, a silent question passes between us.

  Should we continue?

  My hand glides down my stomach. My skin is flushed and warm and smooth. All the while, he stares, enraptured, until I reach between my parted thighs and take him in my hand. Silky hardness, veined and thick. I’m the one doing the touching now. His fingers leave me empty as I brush him back and forth across me, teasing, working us up, making us shiver. He stares down with hooded eyes, nearly lost to the sight of my legs spread before him. It’s only when his fingers dig into my thigh, when a deep impatient rumble breaks free of him that I start to guide him into me the smallest bit. My eyes roll back as he starts to stretch me. He goes slow, but not because he’s unsteady or nervous. No. I’m being filled by a man who knows what a woman needs, whose bold confidence never wavers.

  Ethan takes it from there, capturing my kne
es in his hands and pushing himself inside me inch by inch until we fit together like a lock and key. Deep and full. It’s utterly unnerving, this all-consuming feeling of contentment. There’s a rightness to the moment. This is an inevitable outcome we’ve been hurtling toward for months on end. He and I are as close as two people could ever be and I’m trying to desperately quell an overwhelming urge to cry as he stays buried inside me, unmoving. I force down the feelings, aware of how silly I’d look. Even so, tears still burn the edges of my eyes as my throat tightens, and Ethan sees. He sees me and, mortified, I turn away, focusing on the edge of the dark forest.

  His fingers brush against my cheek and then he cups it in his hand, using it to guide my attention back to him. That’s when I realize these feelings surging through me are surging through him too. He’s as consumed by it as I am. He might not have tears rolling down his cheeks, but his eyes are the darkest shade of brown, a compelling mix of longing and adoration. It’s like even now, he’s not fully satisfied, as if being buried this deep isn’t even enough. This one time won’t sate him.

  I pick his hand up off my cheek and kiss the center of his palm before guiding it down to my breast. It’s my signal to him that I want this to continue, my signal that we’re in this together.

  His draws himself out of me slowly and pumps back in. A shudder racks through me. One hand moves down to grip my waist as he slides out and back in, filling me up until it’s a hair’s breadth away from being painful. My hands grip his biceps, holding on to him as if he’s all that’s keeping me rooted to the earth. Slow pumps give way to hard thrusts. Soon, we have a rhythm. Soon, there are no tears, only hips rocking together, backs arching, hands dragging down chests. My nails bite into his skin and he drops down to kiss me, sweeping his tongue across mine as his finger swirls circles between my parted thighs. My second orgasm chases the first and this time I come with him lying on top of me, pumping and thrusting and making love until he can’t stand it for another second and he pulls out, fists his length, and comes with such force across my stomach and chest that I’m completely captivated.