He knew if he’d run into her right off the elevator, he would’ve been tripping all the fuck over himself to keep things polite, and that wasn’t what he wanted coming back to work today. He needed things to get back on track. This was his shot at reinventing his career, of actually creating something good in his life. Plus, he thought, as she made it to the chair and took a seat, I’m a professional, damn it.
“Good morning,” she said, and looked up at him expectantly.
Sit down, you fucking moron. She’s waiting for you to sit down.
Evan took a seat and made sure to keep his eyes on her face as she crossed her shapely legs, one over the other. The same legs that had wrapped around his hips when he’d been fucking her hard into her mattress.
Now speak.
“Good morning,” he said.
He didn’t want to be the first to break eye contact, so he was happy as hell when she lowered her eyes to the notebook she had in her hand. She fiddled with her pen for a moment, tapping it against the paper, and it gave him a feeling of satisfaction to know that she was obviously feeling just as uncomfortable as he was. Not that she’d ever admit it. Nor would he.
“Bill said you’d already stopped by and picked up the file for this morning’s meeting.”
Evan kept his eyes on her, letting them fall to the elegant string of pearls draped around her neck, and when he realized they were the exact same ones that’d been in the photo of her that he’d once used as…inspiration, his leg started a nervous bounce.
Yeah, that’s just what you need, dickwad. To remind yourself of a frustrating night with your mattress and a Ziploc bag.
He put his fist on top of his thigh, as if he could hold it the fuck still, and then held out the manila folder in her direction.
“Yes. I’ve just been running over it. Taking down some notes on what they may want to do to maximize their profits.”
Reagan reached for the folder, and when he didn’t immediately let it go, she glanced at him and raised a brow. “Do you want to, I don’t know, let it go, maybe?”
Her choice of words seemed to hold a double meaning, and he couldn’t help the curl of his lip when he replied, “I don’t know. Do you?”
Her brown eyes narrowed on his, and he could’ve sworn a flame flashed through them as she said, “I’m not the one holding on to things,” and yanked her hand back, taking the file with her.
Evan sat back, slightly more comfortable now that she was on edge, and gave her a minute to flick through the file.
It was obvious from her words just now that she was not over the events of last week, and this polite attempt to walk into his office like nothing happened was total bullshit. Thank God for that, though, because his act was just as fucking pathetic.
Who did he think he was fooling trying to act like an hour of preparation time before seeing her would make a damn bit of difference? He’d thought about nothing else but her since the moment he’d walked out of the office last week, and there was no way this was going to stay polite or professional—even if it was done in a passive-aggressive, fuck-you kind of manner.
He crossed his leg over his knee and clasped his hands together, and when she kept her eyes glued to the papers in front of her, he said, “No. Your specialty is jumping to the wrong conclusions, so I think you should definitely study up there and make sure you know all the facts before you make an assessment of the situation.”
Reagan’s head snapped up, and it seemed as if she was about to comment and then thought better of it. Shutting her mouth, she looked back at the file in her hands.
“I think a higher price point would be best, making them more exclusive—”
As Evan shook his head, her eyes flicked up to his.
“What?”
“I think that’s the wrong direction,” he said.
“You want to go lower?”
Don’t answer that.
He cleared his throat and tried to think of something non-sexual to say, but when nothing sprang to mind, he went with one word. “Yes.”
“Hmm.” She flipped through the notes, and said, “Well, we’ve got some time to hash it out, so tell me what you’re thinking.”
There’s not enough time to hash out what I’m really thinking, he thought as he took advantage of her focus being elsewhere and let his eyes roam over the swell of her breasts underneath her white blouse. It was tucked into a tight pencil skirt that showcased the flare of her hips, and he had to dig his nails into his palm to snap his mind out of mentally undressing her.
“All right,” he said, keeping his eyes on his notepad. “Let’s do it.”
* * *
TWO HOURS LATER, they’d come to an agreement on the pitch. When the knock on his door alerted them that the CEO from Allendale had arrived, Reagan stood and readjusted her pearls. Evan followed her to the boardroom, and as they walked in, they greeted the gentlemen before them.
“Mr. Blake, so nice to meet you,” she said, shaking the hand of the CEO.
“We’ve heard you two are among the best in your field, so thank you for meeting with us.” The man smiled, his grin crinkling the deep lines around his eyes. “And this is Charles Brigham, my VP.”
“Thanks, gentlemen,” Evan said after greeting the men. “If you’ll have a seat, we’ll show you how we’re going to turn your business around.”
Mr. Blake’s brow shot up, and he nodded in approval. “I like that mindset. I assume you’ll be running lead for us?”
Reagan looked at Evan, expecting to hear him explain they would both be running the numbers, when lo and behold, the man had the audacity to pat Mr. Blake on the back and say, “Of course. I have some ideas I think you’re really going to like.”
Oh, is that right, Mr. James? You have some ideas? You’re going to run the numbers…we’ll see about that.
“Excuse me, Evan?” Reagan asked, her voice saccharine sweet as she grabbed his arm.
“Yes, Reagan?”
“You don’t mind if I start us off, do you?” she asked as she released him and took a seat, making sure to flash the long line of her legs in his direction.
A shadow of lust crossed Evan’s face. “Ladies first.”
Typical man, letting his “head” think for him. I’ll take advantage of that.
“Thank you,” Reagan said before turning to the men in front of them. “So, gentlemen. We understand you’re looking to revamp your Aqua Cool bottled water line and are looking for the best way to get more bang for your buck, if I may. Mr. James and I both agree that the best way to do that would be to raise the price by seventy-five cents, making it competitive with the other premier brands.”
She could feel Evan gaping at her out of the corner of her eye, but she continued. “To do that, you’ll want to rebrand, work with your advertising agency, possibly get a celebrity endorsement. In the long run, establishing yourself as one of the elite water companies in the world will get you a higher price point and more money in your pocket.”
Beside her, Evan coughed.
“Did you have something to add?” Reagan asked.
“I…uh. Well, that’s one way we could go,” Evan said slowly, as if carefully choosing his words. “Or, to give you another option, you could lower the price by twenty percent and make it competitive against the mass-market brands. You’re a brand people already know and love. If someone were to stop by a gas station and grab a water, they’re gonna go for a brand they know at a price they can afford. High volume times increased sales equals a huge profit.”
The two men across from them looked between Reagan and Evan with quizzical expressions.
“I see your point, Evan,” Reagan said, keeping her face impassive. “Some people are happier with a low-end product. But that’s the struggle; is it a low-end product with low-end quality? People know that a higher-priced brand will give them superior taste and satisfaction.”
“Water is water—” he began.
“No. It’s more than water.” She could
feel the line crossing from professional into personal, but God, she couldn’t stop herself. Evan James was making her fucking crazy. After spending the past two hours in close quarters with him and keeping things strictly work-related, the feelings simmering beneath the surface were now a low boil on the fast track to spilling over.
“Reagan—”
“Yes, Evan?”
His eyes narrowed on her, and she could tell he was trying to work out what the fuck was the matter with her. Honestly, for one split second she wished the other men in the conference room weren’t there so she could really let him have it. Instead, ever the cool professional, she took a calming breath and plastered a cordial smile on her face.
Over the next twenty minutes, she and Evan volleyed their points like two tennis pros at Wimbledon, each vying to score the most points with their client and come out on top. Facts and figures were laid out, and though Evan gave her a good run for her money, she had no doubt that hers was the better proposal.
“Gentlemen.” She looked across the table at the CEO and VP. “It seems we’ve given you two great options this morning. Perhaps it would be best if you talk it over with your advertising department and company accountants and work out which strategy is in your best interest.”
Evan shot to his feet as if she’d lit a fire under his ass, and then leaned in so close to her that the sleeve of his suit jacket brushed against her bare arm. He turned his head, and as his breath ghosted over her ear, she couldn’t help the shiver that raced down her spine.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he whispered, low enough that only she could make out his words.
Determined not to be intimidated by him, she pivoted, causing him to back up or have their lips brush one another. “I’m giving them what they came for. A choice, so they can make an informed decision.”
“Okay, Ms. Spencer,” the CEO said. “Charles and I agree you’ve given us two solid ideas here. We’ll take this back and work the numbers and projections and give you a call within the week so we can move forward with whichever route we choose to take.”
Reagan noticed Evan’s jaw tick as he clenched it shut, and she could tell it was killing him to bite his tongue. No doubt he was beyond pissed that she hadn’t followed through on the original plan, and instead, the meeting had turned into some kind of fucked-up contest she was dead set on winning.
“That sounds fantastic, Mr. Blake,” she said.
“I have to say, the two of you seem very passionate about your jobs.”
Finally, Evan spoke up as he shook their hands. “You’re spot-on about that. Let’s do what Reagan here suggested, and take a few days. We’ll get our detailed analyses over to you by the end of the day, each backing up our proposals, and from there you can make a more informed decision.”
Reagan had to stop herself from kicking him in the shins. Do what I suggested? How fucking kind of him.
She gathered up her paperwork as Evan did the same, and then they both silently made their way around the conference table to show Mr. Blake and Mr. Brigham out. As they vacated the room, she stood there beside Evan and counted back from thirty, wondering if he planned to say anything about what had just happened. When it appeared he seemed indifferent, she reached for the door handle.
She got it open a few inches when he moved behind her and slapped his palm on the back of it, shoving the door shut with enough force that the sound would’ve echoed up the hall. She whirled around ready to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing, but she miscalculated how close he was standing, because when he took a step forward, her ass and back were flat against the door before she knew what was going on.
His eyes were wild as he lowered his arm and leaned forward. Then she heard the loud metallic click of the lock as it was engaged.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THE EXPRESSION ON Reagan’s face would’ve amused him if he hadn’t been so irritated. She looked ready to hiss at him, like a wet cat, and as he ran his eyes down to her heaving breasts, it got him thinking of another wet pussy.
“Get out of my way, Evan.”
He knew the uppity tone in her voice was meant to dissuade him, but it had the opposite effect. It made his cock hard as a fucking rock.
“Not until you tell me what the hell that was all about.”
In true Reagan fashion, she didn’t back down. She tilted her chin up and pinned him with annoyed eyes. “What was what about? We each presented our side of the argument. Nothing more, nothing less.”
He raised the hand he had by his side and placed it on the opposite side of her head, caging her in where she stood. “You’re full of shit. What got your panties in a twist back there?”
Her eyes flashed at him, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. She’d worn a clear gloss on her lips today, and the way the glistened made him want to lean in and take a bite.
“I don’t have my ‘panties’ in a twist, thank you very much. What a totally sexist thing to say. Which, by the way, seems to be your mindset today. What’s next? You gonna throw me over your shoulder and take me back to the cave where I belong?”
“Now that sounds like a good goddamn idea. Maybe that’s what you need.”
Even as pissed off as he was that she’d had complete disregard for the plans they’d made in his office, he couldn’t stop the craving that took over when he was in close proximity to Reagan. And fuck her for that.
She narrowed her eyes at him and struggled to get free. When he didn’t budge, she leaned back against the door.
“So what happens now?” she asked, and then lowered her voice to a whisper. “Are you gonna fuck me against this door?” Her hand trailed over her hips and hovered between her legs, pressing against the tight skirt she was wearing. “Let’s not play games, Evan. Just move away. And then I’ll let you apologize.”
“Apologize?” He threw his head back in a humorless laugh and then looked her dead in the eye. “Okay,” he said, leaning closer, his voice dripping with disdain. “I apologize. I’m so sorry I took you home that first night. That I fucked you until you could barely walk out my door. That I’ve ruined you for every other cock out there. I’m so fucking sorry, Reagan. But most of all I’m sorry you’re such a fucking liar.”
“Fuck you,” she said, pushing hard against his chest, but he wasn’t about to let her go. His blood was boiling in the way that only she seemed to provoke.
He grabbed the hands shoving against him and pinned them over her head against the door. Then he took a step toward her and said in a low, raspy voice, “That’s the second time in as little as minutes that you’ve invited me to fuck you. Maybe I should just take you up on the offer. Or are you lying about that too?”
He pressed his body flush against hers, and as her breasts connected with his chest, and his cock brushed against her tight skirt, a low moan left from between her parted lips.
“Ahh, so this…” he said, lowering his head and grinding his hips against hers. “This we at least know is true.” He placed his lips by her ear, and when he heard her suck in an unsteady breath, he whispered, “But here’s the thing, Reagan—as much as I liked your suggestion about fucking you against the door, I had a vision when you were pulling your snobby princess routine. And it had more to do with bending you over the table.”
He took a step back and pulled her arms from the door, and just as he was about to tug her forward, she boldly stepped up to him.
“Like one of your whores?” she asked, backing him up until his ass hit the table. “Maybe I should hike up my skirt and stand on a street corner to get your attention? Would that keep you coming back for more?”
He growled, and she gave him an evil smile. “Let’s get one thing straight. Your cock and I…we’re never gonna be intimately acquainted again.” Looking down at the erection in his pants, she said, “Down, boy.”
Evan shook his head and pushed off the table, their fronts pressing against each other, since she wasn’t about to back down. “You are such…a fucking�
��liar.”
“And you are such a fucking manwhore.”
Before he could stop himself, he reached around and grabbed her ass, squeezing her forward so she could feel his erection.
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe you have that effect on me?”
“Who’s the liar now?” Her words fought against him, but her body wasn’t following. “Don’t pretend like I’m something special.” Leaning in, she captured his lower lip with her teeth and bit down hard before whispering against his mouth, “Let’s just be honest about what I am to you. Your favorite…filthy…fuck.”
* * *
REAGAN COULDN’T BELIEVE the shit flying out of her mouth. When Evan maneuvered them so he could back her up to the conference table, she knew exactly where this was going. She wasn’t naive enough to believe this was hearts and flowers, and was honest enough to call a spade a spade. This was a total hate fuck, and the sooner he got his pants down and his cock inside her, the quicker she could get off and go about her day as planned.
Her ass hit the table first, and he lifted her slightly so she was perched on the edge.
“Don’t think this changes anything between us,” she told him as he touched her knees with his fingers.
“Oh, I’m under no delusions as to what this is,” he said as his fingers slipped under the hem of her skirt. “After all, you’re the one who reminded me of who you are…right, Reagan?”
She glared at him with enough force that he should’ve fallen dead to the floor, but when he started to inch the material up her thighs, she slowly parted her legs.
His eyes dropped to her movements, and when she stopped, he raised them to hers and demanded, “Wider.”
She licked her lower lip and placed her hands on the table behind her, leaning back slightly and spreading her legs apart. His palms smoothed over the top of her thighs, pushing the skirt up as he went, and when his fingers grazed the lace of her panties, she fought to keep her eyes open and on his.
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