by Maggie Marr
“Oh my God, Tristan.” Prim moaned; her body was no longer hers. She was outside herself and so filled with the pleasure of his hard cock and his hard fucking that she could barely speak, could barely see.
“Say it.”
His need for her words as urgent as his cock slamming into her over and over again. Please don’t let him stop. God, yes, let her always be his, let her body be his, and her soul and all of her be his forever and for always.
“I’m yours,” she said. She yielded as he again sank into her.
With her words his lips were on her mouth. He captured her moans with his kiss. His teeth nipped her lips, and his tongue possessed her mouth.
She was his, she was completely his, and this was more than she’d ever been to. She couldn’t help but want to be his, need to be his.
“Tristan, I’m yours.”
They fell over the edge and into the sweet abyss together, her body careening over with him. The heat of his come shot through her and their bodies shattered and shook.
He collapsed onto her, their breathing mixed and ragged, neither of them able to catch their breath, both of them realizing that this, this moment, meant more than the other moments and that somehow they had crossed an unspoken boundary.
He rolled from her. She felt empty as his cock slipped from inside her. He lifted the covers onto her, curved his arm around her but did not meet her gaze. Prim turned her head from him and soft, quiet tears escaped her eyes. Tears over what he meant to her. The rigid shell he maintained came up, over, and around him, and in response she too hardened herself. Because while she’d given him her body and wanted to give him every part of her flesh, she had no desire to keep giving him her heart.
Chapter Fifteen
Tristan didn’t want to become involved, but he was. Prim had slipped through his impenetrable barricade. What began as a compromise, a contract, an agreement based on lust and self-interest, had become much more than merely a twelve-week arrangement. A bright blue Los Angeles morning antagonized his gray mood. Not even the waves and the water settled him. He unzipped his wet suit and pulled out his arms. He picked up his board and turned up the beach toward his home.
Today was the final day in their agreement. Twelve weeks with Prim hadn’t diminished his desire for her; instead, he wanted her more each day. His resolve to remain unattached had crumbled in the presence of Prim Baxter. Her laugh, her brains, her body, her drive to succeed, everything about Prim pulled him in, but he knew that though their relationship might work for a while, no future could be built upon it.
A future? With Prim? He pulled his hand through his hair. What was he thinking?
He racked his surfboard and walked up the back steps to the house. He’d been very quiet when he left to surf. He tried to always be quiet so that Prim might get more sleep. She worked entirely too hard, her hours much too long, and plus if she was still asleep when he returned, he usually lay back down and stared at that beautiful face for just a while before getting ready for his day.
The scent of fresh coffee and something warm with cinnamon greeted him when he opened the back door near the kitchen.
“Hello Mr. Up and at ’Em.”
What he saw nearly drove him to his knees. Picture-perfect domesticity on a beautiful woman. Prim’s long, luscious legs shot out from beneath an old Wharton T-shirt, her tousled hair up in a loose bun on her head. She grasped a coffee mug in her hand and stood by the stove. A bowl dripped batter onto the counter and beside the bowl lay a spatula.
Prim waited for the pancake in the skillet to be ready to flip, but meanwhile she stepped closer to him. “You smell all sexy-surfy.”
She tilted her head up to him. His chest tightened. This would be the last morning that he came into his home and Prim was there, waiting for him either in his bed or in his kitchen. Tomorrow his home would once again contain silence.
His heart twisted in his chest. Prim deserved so much more than him. She deserved a man who could devote himself to her. A man who wasn’t so completely focused on the bottom line. Someone who could give her the companionship she deserved.
His lips pressed to hers. He had her for one more day; she was his until tomorrow.
“What’d you make for breakfast, Miss Baxter?” He grasped her shoulders in the palm of each hand.
“Cinnamon pancakes and bacon.”
“A woman who can close million dollar deals and cook? You’re quite a find.”
Prim smiled. “I do have some domestic skills. They’re not many, but what I know how to do, I do really well.”
“Do I have time to shower?”
Prim glanced at the pancake. “Sure. I can keep them warm in the oven.”
His lips pressed to Prim’s again before he pulled himself away from her. He didn’t mention the obvious, that today was their final day together, and neither did she. Saying good-bye to Prim would be achingly hard. He would do it though, because she would be much happier without him in her life.
*
Prim sat at her desk in front of her computer with her head in her hand. Empty boxes that she and her assistant were meant to fill with Prim’s personal items lay stacked on the floor in front of her desk. She directed a blank stare toward her computer screen. She’d not digested anything on the screen in the hours since she’d arrived to work.
Today was their final day together and her final day at Metro. While she intended to treat today like any other day, she didn’t know if she could. Raw emotion ran so close to the surface. She’d fought back the heat of tears while Tristan devoured his pancakes this morning. Watching him eat had nearly made her cry. Then she’d gotten misty again when she walked through the halls of Metro greeting coworkers for what would be her final day. She’d rushed past Alyssa without a word and closed her office door. Now here she sat, trying to hide from this day and the world. Her phone rang and she snatched it up before her assistant could answer.
“This is Prim.”
“Answering your own phone again? Things must be very bad at Metro.”
A comfort rushed through her body with Meg’s voice. “Not bad because I’m answering my own phone,” Prim said.
“But for other reasons?”
Prim pulled at a strand of hair. How much to tell Meg? They were the closest of friends, but Prim was so embarrassed by her desires that she didn’t even want to say it aloud.
“He …” What were the words that she sought? “He makes me happy and I may be in love.”
Meg was silent.
“What?”
“I’m just thinking,” Meg said. “Thinking that with words such as those there’s nothing really that I can say.”
No, there wasn’t anything to be said. “I merely have to get though today.”
“You think twenty-four hours will end it?”
“I don’t have a choice in the matter and neither does he. The deal was for twelve weeks. After today, I’m free and so is he.”
“Wouldn’t it be lovely if it were that simple,” Meg said.
“Yes.” Prim sighed. “But it’s not.”
Their agreement had been meant to burn away the overwhelming lust they felt. Twelve weeks of Tristan’s constant companionship and their insatiable sex did little more than fuel an even higher flame.
“Reminding you of our dinner.” Meg changed the subject. “At Mastro’s.”
“Right,” Prim said. “We’re confirmed and on the schedule. This dinner is meant to be a business dinner, not a couples thing.” Her words were a weak lie even to her own ears.
“Of course,” Meg said. “We’ll see you both at eight.”
Prim pushed back her shoulders. She would do this. She wasn’t going out a weak, mewling, teary-eyed mess. She hadn’t cried when Ryan sold Metro, at least not at the office. She wouldn’t cry and pout and walk around with a long face on her final day. She didn’t want her coworkers to remember her sad and tearful. No, she wanted them to remember her as strong and full of joy. She was meant to be in the c
onference room in ten minutes. Her staff thought they were being sneaky, but she realized that there would be cake and balloons and a send-off for her. She clicked her e-mail to do one final look before she left.
What was this? Philippe, Tristan’s assistant, had attached Prim to an e-mail loop from the CEO of Optimax? A final piece of business for her to read? Prim clicked the attached document. Her eyes ate up the words.
An anxious, oily feeling consumed her stomach. The document contained an offer from Optimax to buy Metro’s research division. The offer was dated this week. She read the e-mail chain, which was an ongoing exchange between Tristan and Optimax’s CEO over the last month.
The last month? Tears heated her eyes. She’d believed Tristan when he said that he’d wait to make his decision about hacking Metro to bits and selling off each lucrative division. Why had she believed him? Why had she trusted him? Why had she ever thought that she could change his mind? She’d confused desire and lust with love and respect. She’d been swept up in her growing emotions for Tristan. She’d even thought she was successfully convincing him that Metro should remain a whole entity.
The sale to Optimax would be a bloodletting. The Metro research division was twenty people strong. Optimax would probably keep five of Metro’s team. They’d fold those five into their own company and fire the other fifteen. Many on the Metro research team had been with Metro closing on twenty years. Long before she started, even before her former boss Ryan Murphy had purchased Metro.
Prim clicked the document closed. Her colleagues expected her and she wouldn’t disappoint them. She might be leaving, her job at Metro complete as of today, but she still had to try to convince Tristan to keep Metro Media whole.
Chapter Sixteen
The boxes in Prim’s office were being sent to her house. After her good-byes, she’d left Metro’s headquarters and headed home. A long soak in the tub helped still all the emotions that raced through her body. Now, ready for dinner, Prim settled into the back of Tristan’s town car. An ache continued to weave itself through her chest. Sitting beside the man she’d come to care so deeply for over the last twelve weeks, an emotional distance widened between her and Tristan that not even their attraction could bridge.
“I need to make a stop before we go to dinner,” Prim said. She pressed the button and lowered the glass between the front and the back seat. She handed the driver a slip of paper. “Could you stop here please?”
“Was today hard for you?”
The tone of Tristan’s voice was warm and mixed with concern, which made it more difficult for her to maintain her irritation toward him. She’d gone through so many emotions today. Happiness during breakfast with Tristan. Joy mixed with melancholy upon seeing her closest colleagues at her going-away party. Sadness when she’d exited Metro for what was to be her final time.
Now her heart careened between brokenness over caring so much for Tristan and anger over a decision he seemed to have already made. Her gaze flickered over him. That sharp jaw that was so handsome, his full lips, the dark eyes that glinted with the slightest light.
“It’s always hard to say good-bye,” Prim said. She held tight to her voice. It would be so easy to careen over the edge into sadness and maudlin and away from her one final goal.
“Yes,” Tristan said. “Saying good-bye can be difficult.”
His hand inched toward hers and he hooked his pinky finger around hers. She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, a little trick she’d learned to prevent tears. There was no reason to cry. While she had failed miserably on a personal level with regards to their agreement, she still might win where her professional desires were concerned.
“We’re here,” Prim said.
The car pulled to a stop and before the driver could exit the car, Prim pushed open the door. A working-class neighborhood, the street was filled with pickup trucks and cars that were five years past their prime. The homes were clean and the yards well kept. Prim knocked on the door. She looked out of place standing beside two bicycles and a flowerpot in her silver cocktail dress and too-high heels with her jeweled clutch in her hand.
The door opened and Prim bent forward and hugged the shorter and rounder woman at the door. Tristan recognized this woman. He squinted. Yes, he knew her from …
“Delphine,” Tristan said. He held out his hand and smiled. “You’re in the research department at Metro Media? Yes?”
Delphine smiled and crinkled her eyebrows. “I am,” Delphine said. “I’ve been with Metro Media for nearly twenty years.” She reached out her hand and shook Tristan’s. “Please come in.”
Tristan followed Prim into the small home. Two teenagers bent over schoolbooks at the kitchen table. Next to the teenaged girl sat a younger girl, no older than ten, in a wheelchair.
“Prim!” The blond teenaged girl at the table squealed and jumped up. She wrapped her arms around Prim.
“Why do you keep growing, Sarah?” Prim asked with a smile on her face. “Look how tall you are and I’m even in heels.”
Sarah smiled, enamored with Prim’s assessment. She twirled a piece of her golden hair. “Thank you for the tickets to the Cold Transmission premiere. We had the best time.”
“I heard it was good. Hi, Justin,” Prim called.
The older boy,nearly seventeen, glanced up from his homework. His eyes landed on Prim and a flush rushed from his neck to his cheeks.
How could he not blush? A seventeen-year-old young man confronted with such amazing beauty as Prim’s? His eyes flicked to Tristan. The look on Justin’s face hardened as though he didn’t like the idea of Prim with any man. Tristan couldn’t blame Justin for that. He didn’t want Prim to be around any other men either.
“This is Tristan,” Prim said.
“Mr. Rhodes,” Delphine said, instructing her children.
“Oh,” Sarah said. “We’ve heard of you. You just bought Mom’s company.”
Tristan nodded. “Guilty.”
He followed Sarah, Delphine, and Prim into the kitchen where the youngest member of the family lay in her chair. Her hands curled inward toward her arms, but her eyes were alert and stared at Prim.
“How are you, Leanne?” Prim bent down and kissed the girl on both cheeks.
The child’s smile widened. Her arms jerked as though she was trying for a hug.
Prim gave her a warm and tight squeeze. “I hear you went to the premiere too?”
Prim looked at Delphine for confirmation and Delphine nodded.
“She loved it. Made up for the physical therapy she had to endure that day. Have you eaten?” Delphine moved toward the oven. “Want to join us?”
“I’d love to, but we have a dinner meeting.” Prim waved at her dress as though an apology for not being able to stay. “I needed to pick up that file from you. Today was my last day and I wanted to be sure Tristan reviewed the file.” Prim turned to him. “Plus Tristan mentioned his interest in meeting all of Metro Media’s employees. Getting to know them on a personal basis. We were close, so we stopped.”
“You know I love it when you do,” Delphine said and wrapped an arm around Prim’s waist. “I’ve got it in the front room on my desk.”
All three walked into the living room. Tristan sat on the couch and Prim settled into a chair across from the settee.
“Here it is,” Delphine said. “The algorithms are nearly there.” Delphine looked at Tristan. “We’re working on a research directive regarding advertising and video-on-demand algorithms developed by our research team.”
Tristan opened the file and perused the presentation paper. “This is really good stuff.”
“If you come by my office, Mr. Rhodes, I can show you the preliminary findings. We also have an eye toward international markets.”
“Tomorrow? E-mail Philippe and give him a good time for me to come by. I’m very interested in your research and development team right now.”
A look Tristan couldn’t decipher passed between Delphine and Prim.
&n
bsp; Delphine walked them to the door. “It’s a pleasure to have you here,” Delphine said. “Prim comes by often. I think she’s been to the house of everyone at the company at least once.”
“Is that so?” Tristan said.
“I think the sense of community that Mr. Murphy tried to build and that Prim has maintained since the accident is the reason for Metro’s success. Why everyone works so hard.” She reached out and put her arm around Prim. “We feel that we’re in this together.” She glanced toward the kitchen. “I’ve worked a lot of years with Metro, and you don’t find that much anymore at a company. A place where people feel valued not only for their job but also for who they are.” Her gaze returned to Prim’s face. “We’re going to miss you at Metro.”
“I’ll come back and say hi,” Prim said. The smile on her face was for Delphine’s benefit. Joy didn’t reach all the way to Prim’s eyes. “Besides, you’re in good hands with this guy.” Prim nodded toward Tristan.
Her eyes hardened with her words. What did she know or think that she knew? He’d never promised Prim that he wouldn’t sell Metro, only that he’d maintain an open mind during the first twelve weeks of ownership. He’d looked at all the assets, benefits, losses, and he’d crunched the numbers. His decision was one made purely because of business and the bottom line. Those were always the best reasons to make decisions. Only fools let their emotions dictate their business decisions, and Tristan was no fool.
Tears filled Delphine’s eyes.
“Don’t cry,” Prim said. “You’ll still see me. It’s not as though I’m gone forever.”
Delphine pulled Prim into a hug. “Knowing you’re not in that office will make me sad. You’ve been Metro’s heartbeat since Paloma …” Delphine looked away and ran a finger under her eyes. “Well, since Ryan was unable to tend to Metro.” Delphine looked at Tristan and forced a smile to her face. “But now we have Mr. Rhodes, and I am certain we’ll keep doing good work, especially after the last twelve weeks and you telling him all about the Metro family.”