“Why did you run away last night?”
I lick my lips. “I don’t know.”
“Liar,” he snarls, and pushes me back, making my butt fall back on the desk.
I look up at him.
He looks dangerous as he stands in front of me, breathing fire.
“You scare me…I want you too much,” I whisper.
“Show me how much you want me.”
My nerves dance and jump with excitement. “Erica could come in.”
“If she did, she’ll know to turn around and go right back out.”
It’s like a light bulb goes on in my head. I’m galvanized into action. Like a crazed woman, I fumble at his belt and fly. Once his pants are at his ankles I lift my hips and allow him to slide my panties down and over my shoes.
Instead of straightening up and plunging into me, the way he did the last two times, he drops to his knees and with a tortured groan, buries that sinfully gorgeous mouth between my thighs. I gasp and close my eyes, completely lost in ecstasy. My head is rolling back and forth, as he laps at my wet folds.
“Fuck, Sam. You taste like a fucking ripe fruit,” he growls, as he reaches my aching clit. He teases it with a series of quick strokes that send me over the edge. My thighs clench around his head as I come, shuddering and shaking.
I don’t even know where he gets the condom from. My whole body is still quivering from the great rush of pleasure, when I notice him sheathing himself. Without giving me a chance to recover, he thrusts his massive cock straight into me.
“Oh, fuck.” I gasp and start building again. My muscles clench tight around him, making every stroke even more blissful. Fire races through me as we take each other hard and fast.
It’s over too soon, both of us fighting to keep ourselves silent as we struggle to catch our breath. He leans against me, hands on the desk, and I allow myself to revel in his nearness for another few moments before we become two separate people again.
Why should I bother fighting this? It’s all so good, so natural, the two of us falling into each other’s arms every chance we get. We’re good together. Our chemistry is phenomenal. And as evidenced by the accomplishment we made in the lab, we make a good team.
It’s as though we’re meant to be.
Why should I keep arguing with myself then, every time we’re together? Isn’t it easier to accept what’s clearly growing between us?
He kisses the side of my throat then my cheek before straightening up and pulling away to fix up his clothes.
I hop off the desk, my knees still a little weak as I pull my panties on. “Do you think Erica heard anything? I did everything I could to be quiet.”
“I think we’re good. I have soundproofing on the walls.”
I’ve noticed it before, but there was never a reason to mention it. It makes sense, with the conference room adjoining his office. It wouldn’t do for sound to filter back and forth.
“We should celebrate,” he announces as he slam dunks the used rubber into the small trash can and straightens his tie. His eyes twinkling.
“Didn’t we already celebrate, just now?” I whisper.
He chuckles. “I mean an actual celebration. Lunch. A long one. What do you say?”
I freeze, feeling for all the world like a deer in headlights. I want to say yes. The word “yes” is right on the tip of my tongue. I want to prolong whatever is happening between us. And it feels damn good to know we’ve made such progress. Not to mention the joy of knowing I’ve made him so happy. But…
“I can’t,” I whisper, wincing. “I’m sorry. I made plans for lunch today.”
A storm cloud rolls through the room, or maybe it only rolls across his face. His eyes go stormy.
Just like that, the moment’s over. Like it never happened at all.
“Right.” His voice is flinty.
“I’m sorry,” I babble, feeling like he’s slipping through my fingers. And I had him, too. I had him right in the palm of my hand. And vice versa. If anyone told me a week ago that I’d ever be in a position where I’d want Lincoln the way I do right now, I would’ve laughed myself sick. Now, I’d do anything to get him back to where we just were a minute ago.
He shrugs and slips his belt thought its hoop. “Hey, it is what it is.”
“If I hadn’t already said I’d go to lunch, I’d go with you in a heartbeat.” I feel small, terribly small, like I’m shrinking by the second.
He’s pulling away. Jamming the buttons of his shirt through the holes opposite, almost violently.
I want to explain that it’s not what he thinks it is, that I’d rather be with him, but…
My father is waiting to have lunch with me. And it’s complicated. I never expected his call, to put it mildly. Not after the scene I made, during dinner on Friday night. I made it plain then that I never wanted to step foot in that house again, and he seemed all right with the idea. He seemed perfectly fine with it, in fact. Maybe a little too fine. Maybe I wanted him to put up a small fight, just enough to show me he cares. I should know better by now.
But then, he called.
It’s so unlike him to try to make up for anything he’s done, or didn’t do. Curiosity got the better of me, I suppose. Even though I wanted to reject him the way he’s rejected me so many times before, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I’m still his daughter and he’s still my father. However, I’m certain things just don’t dissolve so easily. No matter how much we want them to.
“It doesn’t matter. It was just a thought,” Lincoln mutters, sitting down in front of his computer, his eyes locked on the screen.
Will I ever win with him?
Lincoln
I can barely keep my anger in check. Not just anger, either. Jealousy. Jealousy so intense, it’s almost difficult to breathe properly.
What’s happening to me? When did I become this Neanderthal? I don’t like feeling this way, as though there’s a boa constrictor around my chest while my blood is boiling at the same time. I hear the rushing through my ears as I wish to God she would leave the office and give me back some semblance of privacy.
“Is that all?” I ask, barely managing to keep from snarling, eyes still focused on my screen. I can’t look at her. I can’t imagine her with another man. It’s too much, after what we just did. I can still taste her. I know it’s a man. I could tell by the flash of guilt in her eyes. How could she rush off to have lunch with another man after being with me? She sure does get around.
Is that really who she is? Looks like once again, I’ve deluded myself into seeing qualities in a woman which simply aren’t there.
“Lincoln…” She lingers by my door, clearly unwilling to leave things as they are.
I want to tell her to get lost and never come back because damn it, I can’t stand who she’s turning me into. If this is the way it’s going to be, I don’t know that even the most explosive sex ever is worth it. “Shouldn’t you be on your way to your lunch date?” I ask, cutting her off.
“It’s not exactly—”
“For fuck’s sake. Can’t you take a hint?” I finally look at her and the jealous, petty part of me relishes the look of dismay on her face. “We had fun and I’ve got to get back to work.”
For a second, she looks stricken, as if I just cut her with her knife. Then she lifts her chin. “Sure. Enjoy your work” She opens the door and closes it softly behind her. Still the professional. At least, she can say that for herself.
I, on the other hand, cannot say any such thing. I push away from my desk and pace the floor restlessly.
What hell is wrong with me? Have I completely lost my mind?
I’m behaving like a class one asshole. But what am I supposed to think, when she goes from fucking me on the edge of my desk to telling me she has lunch plans with somebody else? What’s so important about her plans that she can’t cancel them in favor of lunch with me?
Which is part of the reason I know she’s going out with a man. Does she look at him the way
she does at me? Does she make him feel like he’s the most important person in the world? Does he feel like a king when he’s inside her?
“Damn it,” I growl, going back to my chair. I sink into it, but shoot up again. I stand and run my hands through my hair. Trying to work is a complete waste of time now. I shouldn’t have let it happen. I should’ve congratulated her for working so hard and let that be the end of it. What is it about her that makes her impossible to resist? Like she’s a drug I can’t get enough of now that I’ve gotten a taste.
I run my tongue over my lips, picking up the last lingering bit of her there.
Fuck, how am I supposed to forget her? I don’t want to forget her. I don’t want to learn to live without ever feeling again, the passion she sparks in me. I didn’t know I was capable of anything close to what she does to me. I don’t know that I’ll ever find a woman who can do the same.
Damn it, indeed. I need to get out of this room. I can’t sit here at this desk, minutes after we used it for other things, knowing she’s going to meet up with someone else. I can still smell her perfume and the scent we created together.
A short walk around the block should do the trick.
I barrel my way down the hall and into the elevator before anybody can try to pull me aside with their bullshit. I’m already notorious for my short fuse when interrupted with trivialities, but my reaction if anyone should interrupt me right now, would put any prior blow-ups to shame.
When I reach the lobby and step off the elevator, I catch sight of something unexpected—and not entirely welcome. There she is, walking through the revolving doors and out to the sidewalk. Nobody would know that I just fucked her on my office desk less than fifteen minutes ago. She looks absolutely calm and put together.
I hate myself for this, but I need to know. I start to follow her. I need to be sure of who she’s meeting up with. If it’s a man, I want to know who the man is. I want to be able to size him up and understand whom I’m truly up against. And if it is a girlfriend, or her mother or something, I’ll feel like the world’s biggest jackass, but I’ll also be the happiest jackass in the universe.
She’s on the sidewalk now, looking both ways.
Is he late? Standing her up, maybe? Does she feel her heart sinking, the way mine sank when she turned me down for lunch? God, if I were to meet me on the street right now, I’d look at myself with nothing but pity. Maybe a little contempt, come to think of it. I’ve never followed a woman before. I’ve never acted like a stalker. Yet, here I am, practically sneaking up behind her.
A long, sleek, black car pulls up fairly close to where she’s waiting, and the rear door opens. A man climbs out.
I snarl, my lip curling in disgust. And that’s before I recognize who it is. When I do, the blood that was just moments ago racing like fire through my veins turns to ice.
Vince Weissman. That bastard.
How dare he even step foot in front of my building?
He ushers her into his car and follows her, casting a hasty look behind him before closing the door. The car speeds off to wherever the two of them are going.
While I stand here, reeling.
Sam? Having lunch with the CEO of Arcane Technologies? It doesn’t make any sense. Why would she be going out with him? Especially after…
The truth hits me like a ton of bricks. Jesus Christ!
Especially after, she just finalized the changes to the prototype. Changes which will ensure it runs properly during the demo and every time after that.
It can’t be.
Have I really been so blind?
Have I made the biggest mistake of my life in trusting her, bringing her into my confidence, allowing her such access to something which has meant almost as much to me as my own child? This drone and the technology behind it have the ability to make or break my company. Everything is riding on this.
And she just rode off with the man who’s probably my only true enemy.
I walk back to the bank of elevators in a daze, like a man who’s just been through a bombing or climbed out of car wreck. I don’t know which end is up right now. I feel as if I have completely lost my grip on reality. Sam? Sam is the leak. The rat! I don’t want to believe she could have anything to do with the leak, but it’s the only answer that makes sense.
I barely feel the elevator rising up to the top floor as I go over the facts of the situation.
All right. Logic. No more thinking with my dick. Just pure logic.
No more than a few weeks after Ryland hired her—maybe a month, I’ll have to check the specifics in her file—we found out about the leak when Arcane came forward with their version of my drone. Which means they had enough time to make use of the stolen plans. It isn’t as though I made it easy for anyone to do it—I even made sure to order separate files for each aspect of the design: exterior, power, fuel, structure, aerodynamics. Someone would have to have accessed all of it to make use of any of it.
She could’ve easily done it. Ryland has access to all of the files, as does Lou, Ralph, and probably Steve. And me. We’re the only five people. But she might have caught sight of Ryland while he inadvertently went through the files at some point. After all, they work very closely together and she definitely could have had access to those designs.
Now’s not the time for that. I can’t go to him before I have it out with her. So help me God, if she tells him what she discovered today…
By the time I reach the top floor, the numbing shock has worn off. All that is left is cold fury. That bitch. She thinks she can ruin me with her body? I never suspected her for a moment. It makes me feel sick to think of how easily she played me. Hell, I dropped into her hands like an overripe fruit.
I shake my head. Incredible. Her working for the enemy behind my back. It’s almost exactly like what I did with Regina…I imagined it all in my head. She’d been so ready and willing to fuck me because she was screwing me. It would be funny if it weren’t so sickening. God, she’s probably sleeping with Weissman too. It turns my stomach to imagine his liver spotted hand on her creamy skin. My gut burns.
Fuck you, Sam Harper.
I slam my fist on the wall outside Erica’s office. The pain radiates into my arm.
Erica comes running out, and stares at me with widened eyes. “What’s the matter?” she gasps.
“Nothing,” I snarl and walk past her.
I stopped thinking with my brain from the moment I saw her. Not anymore.
She has no idea who she’s dealing with. Neither of them do.
Samantha
The one good thing I can say about having lunch with my father is that it’s at least just the two of us. No insufferable stepmother or stepsister to make things worse than they already are.
And he has to pay attention to me, for once. And why not? It’d been his idea for us to get together.
Only, I’m the one with the attention problems today. I can’t stop thinking about Lincoln long enough to hold onto the thread of our conversation. I keep getting lost.
Dad doesn’t look surprised. He’s never been much for having faith in my intellect, after all.
Which is another reason why I wonder what this is all about. What’s he getting at?
“I imagine things in the office are getting quite interesting, with the tech conference coming up like a freight train.” He chuckles, as though we’re sharing some great joke.
I can’t help but frown. “Since when do you care what my work life is like?”
He manages to mime an expression of disappointment, his mouth curving down at the corners. “That’s mean, and unfeeling. And untrue, to boot. I care very much about your work.”
“That’s not what you said on Friday night. In fact,” I murmur, leaning closer with my arms crossed on top of the table. “You made it clear that you don’t believe I could ever come up with anything worthwhile.”
“I was angry. You must try to understand my position in the family. Having to sit between you and my new family.
Trying to bring everyone together, trying to create a single family unit when it’s so difficult to get the three of you to see eye-to-eye. I was deeply vexed, especially since you were so rude to your sister.”
“Stepsister,” I correct.
“Case in point,” he replies, eyes narrowing. “You refuse to meet me halfway.”
“So that’s why you were so cruel, then? Because I made your life more difficult?”
“Of course. I would never be so unsupportive, otherwise.”
What a laugh. Who does he think he’s trying to fool? Like we only met yesterday. Like I haven’t dealt with his complete lack of support throughout my entire life. “Very kind of you.” I sit back when the server arrives with my salad, which is at least an excuse to keep from talking so much. If we’re eating, there will be less of an opportunity for us to trip over our words. Why wouldn’t we be awkward? We barely know each other, after all.
“So, as I was saying,” he continues as soon as the waiters leave, “I’m sure your work has been quite stressful lately. But stress helps move the day along, doesn’t it?”
Why does he care so much? I can’t make heads or tails of the way he keeps going back to work. “Yes. It’s been very busy, but rewarding. I’m sure we’ll come out on top.” I raise an eyebrow, deciding this is the time to play my ace in the hole. To take him by surprise. “I mean, just because Arcane Technologies poached the design Lincoln created…”
I couldn’t have imagined a better reaction if I tried. His eyes go wide, his pale skin goes red. Like he’s ready to burst. I’m surprised steam isn’t pouring from his ears. “How dare you accuse me of something like that?” he huffs.
“Because it’s the truth, isn’t it? I heard it through the grapevine earlier this week, after meeting with you for dinner,” I challenge coolly.
He scowls angrily. “Do they know you are my daughter?”
“Don’t worry, nobody knows that you’re my father. If they did, I never would’ve gotten the job.”
Too hot to handle: A curvy girl romance Page 24