I dial my father. “That was fast.”
“Here’s my counter. I’m standing with Gabe. You sign my version of the contract, which will come over today, or we put our stock on the market to the highest bidder on Monday morning.” I hang up.
Gabe’s lips curve. “Five, four, three, two, one.”
My cellphone rings and I answer, “Yes, father?”
“You will not sell Maxwell stock to someone else.”
“We’ll give you first right of refusal to a fair offer.”
“You’d never walk away.”
“We’ll survive and thrive without this firm, because despite all the attorneys that work here, we are this firm. You have until Monday.” I disconnect and eye Gabe. “I’ll draft it and send it to you to review.”
***
Carrie
It’s three-thirty when I arrive at Reid’s place and I’ve just stepped off the elevator when he calls. “I’m running late. I’ll be there by four-fifteen.”
“You’re cutting it close.”
“I know. Believe me, I know. I’m leaving my meeting now and all is well. I’m taking the subway to get there faster. I’m going underground. See you soon.” He disconnects and I walk to his door and pull out the key he gave me. A key. To his apartment. It feels like a message, an invitation to know him more intimately and be a part of his life. I smile and open the door. I want to be a part of his life.
I hurry inside, not lingering. I haven’t unpacked and once I’m in the bedroom, I dare to do as Reid suggested. I hang up some of my clothes in his closet and stare at the space with our things hanging together, butterflies in my belly. I think I’m falling in love. I probably am in love, but it feels too soon to say such a thing. How can I already feel this? I have never used that four-letter word with a man. And we went from broken to sharing a closet. I might be crazy, but I can’t seem to care.
I pull out my emerald dress and then hop in the shower because I want to feel fresh for tonight. I’m still in my robe and have just finished flat ironing my hair to a long, sleek, brown finish, which will be destroyed in the Manhattan humidity when Reid finally walks in. I glance at the time. Four-twenty. “You’re pushing it.”
“I know, but us men are fast.” He kisses me and then enters the closet. I stand up and turn to watch the door, thinking about my clothes hanging with his. Seconds tick by and Reid appears in the doorway, his eyes warm, his voice husky. “You claimed your spot.”
“Yes. I did. It was still okay, right?”
He closes the space between us and pulls me to him. “It was what I wanted, Carrie. And,” he cups my naked backside through the thin silk of my robe, “you’re wearing the emerald dress. You have it pulled out.”
“Yes. I am.”
His eyes burn hot. “If you wear panties under it, I’ll spank you when we get home. If you don’t, I’ll lick you. You don’t get both. You decide.”
Oh my. I’m suddenly wet and hot and tingling all over, and before I can even recover from that onslaught of sensations, he smacks my ass hard enough that I yelp, and then turns me to face the counter. “Let me give you something to think about.” He yanks my robe up. “I’m going to spank you now.”
“What? Reid—”
“Count. One. Two. Now.” He spanks me, one, two, three times. He then turns me around, sits my tingling ass on the counter and kneels between my legs, and licks my naked clit. And that’s all. He teases me. He stands up and says, “That was a taste for later. For me and you. You decide how we end the night.” And with that, he turns, walks to the shower, strips naked, and gets inside, leaving my backside burning and my sex clenched. Because Reid Maxwell knows how to make me want more.
Chapter Sixty-Two
Carrie
Reid is as stunning in his tuxedo as he was the night I met him, and perhaps memories of his tongue that night are what solidify my decision on the panties or no panties topic.
I’m not wearing panties, because while I like that man’s hand on my backside, his tongue is magical. The only problem with that state of undress is that October has reared its head this evening and fall has arrived. My dress is not much of a defense for the chilly eve, even without the straight stream of air up my skirt which I found out in our short walk to our hired car.
Once we’re settled into the backseat for the short ride, the driver talks parking and pick up details for a full two blocks. When finally, that is over and done, Reid pulls me close, offering me a big dose of that big, hot body of his to warm me up, and while it works, it just makes me want more of his big, hot body. “You looking as stunning as ever in that dress, Carrie.” His fingers slip under my dress and inch up my thigh, and he clearly has no intention of stopping.
I catch his hand. “You wait.”
“Waiting’s overrated.”
“Not tonight when I have to be focused.”
“I can take the edge off.” His fingers flex on the lace of my thigh high.
“Stop,” I whisper.
His eyes dance with mischief, but the driver announces, “Your destination, sir.”
Reid inhales and then cups my face, bringing his lips to my lips. “Waiting is really fucking overrated.” He kisses me. “But it appears I’m waiting.”
I laugh and he presses his cheek to mine. “I’ll make you pay for that laugh. Perhaps you get the spanking to go with my tongue, because we both know you aren’t wearing panties.” He doesn’t give me time to reply. He opens the door, exits the car and helps me out, pulling me flush to his hard body. “I’m right here with you, Carrie.” He strokes my hair. “We’re going to win Grayson’s business.” He takes my hand and starts to walk, but I tug against him.
He turns to look at me and I don’t know why I need to say it or why I feel he needs me to say it, but I add, “I’m right here with you, too, you know that, right?”
Something flickers in his eyes, some unknown emotion, but warmth follows. “Stay that way. I want you to stay that way.” He kisses my hand and shuts the car door.
The driver arrives to see us off, apparently obsessed with our arrangements. “I’ll be close by, sir. Just text me.”
Once we’re inside the luxurious hotel that is all sleek white tiles that contrast the dark furnishings, beneath a high ceiling with dangling lights, I don’t miss the way several beautiful women walk by us and gape and whisper about Reid. He, however, doesn’t seem to notice, though of course, this is Reid Maxwell, and he notices. He knows. He’s simply focused on me, his arm around my waist, hand on my hip. There is not a fleeting moment where I feel he is anywhere but one hundred percent with me.
We are met by security, who lead us to a second-level conference room. Inside, we’re greeted by Grayson, and another man, both in tuxedos. Grayson’s particularly handsome in his, quite able to inspire the tall, dark, and handsome cliché, while the other man, who is in his late thirties I estimate, has wavy light brown hair and looks that inspire more of a ruggedly good-looking observation.
“This is Eric Mitchell,” Grayson says, indicating the man. “He’s my right-hand man, and considering he’s made himself a millionaire many times over managing my investments, I want him in on the meeting. I trust him.”
There is the traditional shaking of hands, and I note that Eric has a black and gray tattoo sleeve peeking from his jacket. My gaze meets his and he arches a brow as if wanting me to ask about it. I don’t. I simply find it interesting. Grayson isn’t the ink kind of guy, at least I didn’t think he was, and I actually think Eric’s obvious differences make both men more interesting.
“Let’s sit,” Grayson says, indicating the large rectangular table.
My next surprise is that Grayson doesn’t choose the endcap, but rather a spot across from me and beside Eric. “Ask the question, Carrie,” Eric says.
Reid glances down at me. “What’s he talking about?”
“Me looking at his tattoo sleeve.” I shift my attention to Eric. “An observation doesn’t require a question. I don’t have one.�
�
“Just a judgment.”
“So you want my judgment, not a question. Is that what you’re used to getting?”
All three men just look at me and then they all laugh. “I told you she’s priceless,” Reid says, looking at Grayson and squeezing my leg under the table.
My hand covers his and the knowledge that he has spoken positively about me confirms the trust I have in Reid and contradicts all those words my father spoke this morning.
“Indeed,” Eric agrees. “What is your judgment, Carrie?”
“That you and Grayson are different, but alike in ways that make you both interesting.”
“As are you, Carrie,” Eric says.
“Tell us what you have for us,” Grayson says.
“An opportunity of a lifetime,” Reid says. “A deal that was brought to Carrie, but she’s nervous about Asia.”
“I’ve been burned there,” I chime in. “But Reid has brought solid financing to this deal. He has contacts I don’t, and I feel like that can balance this project out. It’s a convention center in Japan.” I glance at Reid to see if he wants to continue.
“It’s your baby,” he says. “You explain it all.”
I dive into my pitch and we all chat for a good hour or more. Grayson glances at Eric. “I could fund it myself.”
“Why? Limit your liability, spread out your assets.” Eric looks between us. “I need to do due diligence but it’s intriguing.”
That’s when Reid takes over. “How intriguing? This is hush-hush and time-sensitive. I’ve brought big money to the table. We’re doing this with or without you. If you want another proposal—”
“No,” Grayson says. “We’ll let you know in twenty-four hours, but on first glance, I’m in. No matter our decision, we’ll grant you a number of test cities outside this project that you can grow upon.”
“I’ll put together the agreement,” Eric says. “We’ll do this other deal separately.”
I want to jump for joy, but Reid remains cautious. “Twenty-four hours. We need to move on this.”
Grayson’s lips quirk. “Understood.”
We all stand and the shaking of hands begins again. “Please enjoy the party,” Grayson says, while Eric holds onto my hand and doesn’t let go.
“Military and then Harvard.”
He releases me. “Interesting,” I say, and he laughs.
A few minutes later, Reid and I are walking down the hallway. “We’re going to make our goal.”
“Yes, baby, we are.”
“We did good.”
“Yes. We did. And you,” he adds, “charmed the room.”
“We do the good cop, bad cop thing pretty well.”
He laughs. “Yes, we do.”
I revel in his laughter that I know now has not been frequent for Reid, and while I still don’t know why, I feel one day I will. We arrive at the party, a huge ballroom with chandeliers and tables filled with clusters of people in formalwear everywhere I look. Reid and I accept champagne and toast to our success. “Panties or no panties?”
“You have to wait to see.”
“Then drink up. We made a showing. Let’s get out of here.”
“We have to stay a respectable amount of time.”
He groans. “Right. That respectable time thing I hate so fucking much.” He downs his bubbly. “Let’s mingle.”
It’s an hour later and Reid and I are on the dance floor, our bodies closer than is “respectable,” but I don’t care.
His hand caresses my back. “Let’s go home.”
Home.
His home, but the word is spoken as if we share a home, and it does funny things to my stomach. “Yes. Let’s go home, but do we need to find Grayson and say goodbye?”
“Grayson has the deal of a lifetime. That’s all he gets. We’re leaving.”
He takes my hand and guides me toward the exit, and in a matter of minutes we’re in the car, and he’s pulling me close, his hand under my skirt again. “The wait is over,” he murmurs as firetrucks start to push through the traffic and sirens sound.
“Something is going on,” I murmur as even more sirens seem to encroach upon us.
Reid’s cellphone rings and he frowns. “Gabe, who would not call me on a night like tonight, unless it was something important.” He answers and listens a moment. “You’re sure? Right. We’re going there now.” He disconnects. “We’ll walk. It’s not far.” He opens the door and helps me out.
“What’s going on?” I ask as he starts all but pulling me down the sidewalk.
“There’s a fire in Battery Park. Gabe can’t tell where yet, but it’s close to our apartments and both of our offices.”
“Oh God.” It’s all I manage. Neither of us speaks. We just walk as fast as we can with me in my heels. It takes us ten minutes, and through a parade of emergency vehicles, to reach our office which is fine. Reid’s phone rings again, and he answers it. “Yeah, Gabe.” His hand tightens on mine. “Yes. Okay.”
A horrible feeling settles in my chest and when he disconnects the line, he turns me to face him his hands on my shoulders. “It’s your building, Carrie.”
“My building. Mine?”
“Yes, baby. It’s yours, but—”
I have to get there. I twist out of his arms and start to run. I’m halfway across a crosswalk when Reid catches my hand. “Stay with me. They aren’t going to let you in the area.”
“I need to know details. I need to talk to an emergency worker.” I motion to a policeman at the entryway to our walkway. “Him. There.”
Reid folds our arms at the elbow and pulls me close. “We’ll talk to him.”
I tug against him and rush toward the uniformed man. “I live in the building. Is the fire contained?”
“Yes, ma’am, but we are asking residents to report their whereabouts if they live on floors one through three.”
“I live on three. What happened on three?”
“I’m sorry to tell you that it’s a full loss, ma’am.”
Emotions rock my body and my knees go weak. Reid drags me to him and I don’t know how but I end up near a bench out of the walkway. “I lost everything. I lost everything. I have no home.” Tears burst from my eyes and Reid folds me close, his lips at my ear. “Live with me, Carrie. Move in with me.”
“No,” I hiss, shoving at his chest. “I’m not your charity case. You’re not getting stuck with me.”
“Stuck with you? There’s no stuck with you, Carrie. Now or ever.” He cups my face and thumbs away dampness. “I gave you a key. We were headed there anyway. A few more weeks of back and forth was all I was going to be able to endure. Live with me.”
“How do I even know it’s what you really want?”
“It is what I want. Is it what you want?”
“I want to make the choice, and I want you to ask me not when my apartment is burning down. Not like this.”
“I would have asked that way and still, it wouldn’t be enough. Baby, I need you with me. I need you, Carrie.” He folds me in his embrace. “You’re safe with me. I got you. I really do, even if you don’t know it yet.”
I stop fighting what he offers, that safe place I need. I sink into his embrace and wrap my arms around him and it does feel like he has me, like he’s holding me up. I’ve never given anyone this kind of power, the power to hold me up or crush me. But I’ve given it to Reid because I know, in this moment, that I love this man.
Chapter Sixty-Three
Reid
If my father did this to Carrie, I will kill him.
An hour after we found out about Carrie’s apartment fire, the police are talking to Carrie. Cat and Gabe are standing with me a few feet away, but my eyes are on Carrie, watching her shove a shaky hand through her hair and the very idea that my father might have done this has me fighting fury. And damn it, the way Carrie reacted to the idea of moving in with me with such instant resistance is killing me and has me wondering if she blames me, if she thinks I did this to h
er, took everything from her; her company, her home.
“Reid?”
At the sound of Cat’s voice, I force my gaze in her direction. “What can I do? Can I get Carrie anything to get her by?” she asks.
I pull out my wallet, handing her my black AmEx. “Buy her everything and anything she could need. Spend thirty-thousand if you need to. I have plenty of money. I don’t care. She has to have nice work clothes. She needs to feel like she has things of her own.”
“She’ll want to pick out her own things,” Cat says. “And I can’t get much tonight.” She glances at her watch. “Very little, actually.”
“Get what you can. She can exchange what she needs to, but she won’t want to spend my money. I want to do this before she makes me promise not to do it. And I want the insurance money to be a nest egg. And buy yourself something for doing this.”
“I don’t need payment,” Cat says. “Money doesn’t make me feel loved, Reid.”
My eyes narrow on her and I know she’s not just talking about herself. “I know, Cat, but I need her to feel safe and that means having what she needs at my place, which is now her place.”
Her expression softens and she nods. “Safe is good right now,” Cat says. “And you do have a point. I’ll do what I can. There’s a boutique that is owned by a fan of mine. She’ll open for me. I’ll see you soon.” She takes off and I focus on Gabe, my voice now low, gritty. “Do you think—”
“I don’t think dad did this. This drives Carrie closer to you and he doesn’t want that. That agreement he drew up made that clear, but I’ll go pay him a visit. I’ll know when I look into his eyes.”
Carrie steps to my side. “There are people missing. I could have been one of them.”
Just that idea guts me and I wrap my arms around her and pull her close. “But you weren’t. Do they know what caused it?”
“The restaurant on the main floor. A short in some machine they were told to replace.”
Gabe whistles. “Sounds like a criminal act to me. Someone is in trouble,” he says, his eyes meeting mine, and I give a barely perceivable shake of my head to tell him that no, I’m not convinced that machine caused the fire.
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