Boss Rules
Page 13
I stepped from the side and approached her from the right. I didn’t want to startle her, so I said her name before I arrived. “Scarlet.”
Her head snapped in my direction, and she couldn’t control the reaction that contorted her face. She was shocked by my presence, probably because she assumed she would never see me again. “Vincent? Everything alright?”
“Yeah, everything is fine. I was hoping we could talk.” Now that I was face-to-face with her, I didn’t feel as confident as I usually did. I’d assumed she would still want me, but what if I was wrong? What if someone else had swept her off her feet? She was so beautiful that a guy in his early thirties would still want her.
“Uh…I guess.” Flustered, she tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry, I’m just so surprised to see you here. I thought I would never see you again…unless it was in the papers or online or something.”
“Can we go somewhere private? Maybe dinner?”
“Can’t you just say whatever you need to say now?” She didn’t retain the same calmness as she did before. Since I caught her off guard, she could only react emotionally. “I…I know that came out rude. It’s just… I’ve been pretty upset since our last conversation, so if you have something to say about that, I’d rather hear it now. I can’t wait until we’re sitting in a restaurant. I need to know now. Because if you’re here to tell me—”
“That I’m sorry and made a mistake?”
She immediately inhaled.
“That I’ve thought it over and have changed my mind?”
She exhaled.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I wanted to say to you.”
An emotional smile stretched across her face. “Then let’s have that dinner.”
The wine was poured and dinner was ordered. Now it was just us in a crowded restaurant, a flickering candle on the table between us. The lights were low, and it cast an exquisite glow across her face. After working all day, she still looked like she’d just finished fixing herself up. I loved the freckle on her cheek, the shade of her lipstick, and the thickness of her eyelashes.
I’d already stared a lot, but now I couldn’t stop.
I should tell her how I felt. I should tell her what I did for the past week. I should tell her how conflicted I felt loving two women at the same time.
But I didn’t say anything.
She didn’t either. She swirled her wine before she took a drink. The lipstick smeared against the glass, and I remembered the way her kiss felt against my mouth. She must have thought of it too because she looked away, a little color in her cheeks. “How was your week?”
“My son is getting married next Saturday.”
“Oh, that’s exciting. Where?”
“Thailand.”
“Oh wow, that’s far…”
“But it’ll be beautiful. And I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
“That will be a lot of fun.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it will.” I wished my wife were there to witness it with me.
“I missed you.” She held my gaze as the whisper left her lips. “I missed talking to you…I missed not talking to you.”
I knew exactly what she meant. “Me too.”
“I’ve gotten a lot of compliments on the article. But anytime someone mentioned it, I was only reminded of what I lost. Made it difficult to be proud of it.”
“It’s something to be proud of. I’ve never told anyone the things I told you.”
“I know…people asked how I did it.”
“And what did you say?” My fingers rested on the stem of my glass.
“I told them I understood you…and you understood me. It’s the basis of all human connection.”
It was a simple answer, but something so fundamental didn’t need a complicated explanation.
“What made you change your mind?” She’d given me enough opportunities to start the conversation on my own. When I didn’t cooperate, she gave me the push I needed.
“My future daughter-in-law.”
Scarlet smiled. “What did she say?”
“She made me realize it was okay to move on, that Isabella would want me to. I told Tatum you were the first woman that I’ve ever felt something for…that I’ve cared about. When I’m with you, I want to make love to you. I want to kiss you slowly even if it never goes anywhere. I want to see a movie on a Monday night because we can’t find anything else to do. I want to show you the world as well as my sheets…but I also want more than that. It’s more than companionship or friendship. It’s…a lot more. With the other women I’ve been with, there was never anything substantial between us. But with us, I feel something. It reminds me of the way I felt for Isabella when I first started seeing her.”
Her eyes softened. “That’s really sweet, Vincent. I feel the same way.”
“I’ve been living with my wife’s ghost instead of living with a real person. I know she would want me to move on and be happy. I’ve never tried to move on before…until I met you. I just hope you can be patient with me…and understand that no matter what happens between us—”
“You’ll always love your wife. I understand, Vincent.” She gave me a smile. “I told you I didn’t have a problem with that.”
“Most women wouldn’t be so understanding.”
“And I probably wouldn’t be either if I didn’t like you so much. But they say there’s no such thing as a perfect man. There’s no such thing as a perfect woman. Love is about accepting each other for who they are. I understand your issues, and I have my own issues too. But if we both look past those obstacles…I think we could find happiness.”
That was exactly the reason I wanted Scarlet. She’d been understanding since the first time we met. Her affection for me grew as she got to know me. Her interest had nothing to do with my money or power. She had her own career that gave her joy. She didn’t need me for anything. “That was well put.”
She reached her hand across the table and opened her palm.
I eyed it for several seconds before I placed my hand on top. My callused fingers touched her soft ones, and I felt the same jolt of energy I felt when she kissed me. Her warmth mixed with mine, and I felt the friction between the tips of our fingertips. I watched our joined hands and felt a form of intimacy I never shared with Alessia or any of the others. It was the first time I really opened my heart, really accepted something new in my life. It was terrifying, still plagued with guilt, but it also felt wonderful.
Truly wonderful.
We got into the back seat of my car.
I eyed her hand on the leather seat beside me. Instead of thinking about every action before I made it, I moved my hand to hers and held it.
The corner of her mouth rose in a smile.
Touching a woman’s hand wasn’t difficult. Fucking them until they came twice wasn’t hard either. I knew how to handle a woman. I knew how to handle several. But handling a woman who actually made my heart squeeze was a completely different story. Her touch meant so much more. “Would you like to come over?”
She turned my way in the car, the shadows casting different designs across her face. A smile was in her eyes, and slowly, it formed on her lips too. “I’d love to, Vincent. But there’s no rush. We have plenty of time.”
I didn’t know what we would do once we got there, but I didn’t want to say goodnight when I’d just gotten her back. She’d never seen my place, and I’d never seen hers. I’d asked her to as many public places as I could. I was running out of excuses to spend time with her. We could only eat so much. I turned to my driver. “Back to my place.” I hit the button and raised the center divider.
We moved through the streets as we headed to my penthouse a few blocks away. Thankfully, my housecleaners had just tidied up the place. I’d left my gas fireplace on, and the TV was still playing the game because I’d recorded it. When I had dates over, I usually offered them a glass of wine before we went to bed.
But they usually wanted to skip the wine.
&n
bsp; I didn’t know what I would do once I got Scarlet there.
I knew what I wanted to do.
But would that be the right thing to do?
Our hands remained locked together as my driver took us across town. Her legs poked out underneath her long jacket, and my eyes couldn’t help but wander over her body. She had a beautiful figure. It was one of the first things I’d noticed.
After what seemed like a lifetime, the driver pulled up to my building.
Hand in hand, we walked inside and took the elevator to my floor. There were two properties on each floor, but I bought both just so I could have my privacy. No one could get access to this floor without the code, so it was impossible for anyone to get up there besides the fire marshal. With all the weirdos in the world, I didn’t want them to follow me here.
I unlocked the door and we walked inside.
The second we were in my personal space, I felt the tension slowly sink down my spine. I’d never been more aware of the fact that I was alone with a woman. Scarlet and I were alone in that museum, but it wasn’t the same.
Now there were four walls surrounding us—no interruptions.
“Can I take your coat?” I moved behind her and peeled the thick jacket off her shoulders.
“Sure.” She stepped forward and took in the view of my penthouse. I had a large living room that was big enough for a dinner party for at least fifty people. A grand piano sat in the corner even though I never played. It was once owned by one of the greatest musicians of all time. It was a trophy as well as a piece of art. My couches were dark gray, and the rest of my furniture was decorated with dark cherry wood, black statues, and a comfortable rug. When I designed this property, I told the designer it would forever be a gentleman’s space. I didn’t go for a look that would fit into a Pottery Barn catalog. It was still sleek, elegant, and full of masculinity. Her gaze grazed over the scene in front of her, examining my large TV on the wall and the stone fireplace. “Your place is beautiful.”
“Thank you. I can give you a tour later, if you’d like.”
“How big is this place?”
“Twelve thousand square feet.”
Her eyes snapped open, and then she released a restrained laugh. “Oh…Jesus.” She laughed again, and this time, she covered her mouth. Her eyes still contained her laughter, but she slowly combated it. “Sorry…I wasn’t prepared for that information.”
It was a lot of space for one person. I didn’t go into the other places in the house often. My personal gym was the only room I visited on a regular basis. The only reason why I kept the penthouse was because of the location. The views were spectacular, and it was close to work. “I’ve been here for about five years now.” I walked to the bar against the wall, where I had everything I needed to entertain anyone—no matter their preference. “Would you like a drink?”
“Sure. I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
I looked over my shoulder. “I’m having a scotch—neat.”
She walked past my couch and grazed her hand over the material along the back. Her eyes took in everything, probably with the perception of someone who designed the layout of an entire magazine. “I like scotch.”
“Really?” I turned back and made the drinks.
“Women can’t like scotch, Vincent?” she asked playfully.
I joined her behind the couch and handed her the glass. “Of course not. I’ve only seen you drink wine.”
“Because you always order a bottle for the table,” she said. “But I do enjoy wine. I enjoy everything, actually.” She brought the glass to her lips and took a small drink before she pressed her lips together. “That’s smooth.”
“That’s the only way I take it.” I took a drink with my eyes trained on hers. I concentrated my gaze on her prominent cheekbones, the pretty angles of her face. Her lips were plump and soft. My experience touching them was limited, but I’d never forget how they felt.
Once my attraction began to rise, I thought of my large mattress in my bedroom. With feather-soft sheets and a beautiful view of the city, it was the most romantic room in the penthouse. I could picture her underneath me, her legs spread as I slowly thrust into her. The collar of my shirt suddenly felt tight around my corded neck. A rush of heat erupted from my core and stretched to my extremities. My throat went dry, and my slacks suddenly felt tight when my cock thickened against my zipper.
Since I actually liked Scarlet, sex took on a different meaning. If I didn’t care about her, sex wouldn’t mean anything so I wouldn’t put much thought into it. My hand would move into her hair, I’d kiss her, and then the clothes would come off.
But it was more complicated than that.
She watched me with her pretty green eyes, studying the stubble on my jaw as she continued to down her drink. “How about we make ourselves comfortable on the couch and watch the game? You recorded it?”
“Yeah…” She must have seen the red light on the DVR.
She took my hand and pulled me toward the couch. “I don’t watch religiously, but I’m a fan.” She sat down and crossed her legs with her drink still held in her hand.
I sat beside her, feeling the stress suddenly disappear from my shoulders.
She smiled at me then moved her hand to my thigh. Her hand was closer to my knee than my crotch, and I wondered if she did that on purpose because she noticed the bulge in my slacks.
I knew she took me into the living room on purpose. I knew she sensed my hesitation and understood I wasn’t ready to move into the bedroom. Instead of pressuring me, she picked up on my emotions and made it easy on me. It was thoughtful. My hand moved to hers, nearly swallowing it up because my palm was so much bigger than hers. “It’s not that I don’t want you.”
“I know, Vincent.” She squeezed my hand then glanced at my crotch.
She definitely noticed it.
“There’s no rush. It’ll happen when it’s meant to happen. I’m more than happy just to be with you, to enjoy this fine scotch in your beautiful home. I want a lasting relationship based on more than sex. I know I want you in a way I’ve never wanted another man, but I’ve waited this long for you…and I can wait a little longer.”
My image was based on cold silence. I was known as a ruthless dictator of hundreds of corporations. I didn’t show weakness, and I didn’t express my feelings to anyone. To the world, I looked like a living slab of stone. Indifferent, cruel, and unforgiving, I brought a new definition to the word man.
It was nice to shed that skin. It was nice to show someone more. It was nice not to care about being strong all the time—because I certainly wasn’t. “Thank you.” My face was pressed closer to hers, and I could see the light from the TV reflect in her eyes. I loved the thickness of her eyelashes, the way her eyeliner made her eyes stand out more. I loved the way freckles sprinkled across her cheeks like small crystals of snow.
I leaned my face into hers automatically, and I found her lips. The second I felt her warmth, I sucked in a deep breath, making my lungs ache because they reached full capacity instantly. My lips felt hers, memorizing the way they felt against my mouth. My yacht excursions with Alessia were forgotten. Dinner in my chalet in Switzerland with Meredith faded away. Now I pictured the things I would do to this woman, the things I could give her. I wanted to take care of her, to deserve this kiss every single day.
It started off slow, just the way our last kiss did. But now there were no interruptions, and feelings were spilled onto the table. I wanted to kiss her just like this forever, to get to know her physically at a slow pace. The connection and excitement were there, so chemistry wasn’t an issue.
Her hand moved to my shoulders, and her fingers dug into me. She sucked my upper lip before her kiss moved to the corner of my mouth. She had a sensual touch, full of confidence and longing. She breathed into me and kneaded me with her fingers. Sometimes a quiet moan would escape her lips, so quiet I wasn’t sure if I heard it. She pulled on my jacket, getting me closer to her.
My hand moved to her knee and slowly slid up her thigh, feeling the soft skin along with the toned muscles underneath. My hand stopped before I ventured too far underneath her dress, but my fingers ached to reach a little farther. I wanted to touch her panties with my fingertips, to flick her nipples as they pebbled.
Our tongues came next, and then I was so hard it actually hurt.
I wanted to lay her on the couch and bury myself between her legs. It’d been months since Alessia. I used to get laid on a daily basis, wake up to a beautiful model riding me in the morning. Now I’d been in a drought because I was tired of the hollow sex.
I got more satisfaction out of a single kiss with Scarlet than I ever did with Alessia or the others.
It felt right.
And it didn’t scare me as much as it used to.
Chapter Ten
Diesel
Mrs. Diesel Hunt.
I liked it.
I liked it a lot.
In fact, I didn’t want to wait to call her that. I wanted that privilege right here, right now. I didn’t want to wait until our wedding in Thailand. I wanted to own this woman completely and irrevocably.
When I first started seeing Titan, it was a battle for dominance. She wanted to control me, and I wanted to control her. She was a fierce opponent, and I feared I would never win, I would only share power with her.
But now she yielded to me.
She was all mine.
There would be no fight. There would only be possession. She willingly submitted to me, not because I was stronger than her.
But because I earned it.
I rode the elevator to the penthouse I’d been sharing with her. We hadn’t decided where we would live together because we were focused on the wedding—and the honeymoon. There were still a few other things we hadn’t discussed it—like a prenup.
The doors opened, and I felt the testosterone spike in my blood. The entire time I was at the office, I was anxious to come back to her. Now I could act on every instinct I felt, I could take her in whatever way I wished. I would never have to let her overrule me again.