Taming Reid

by J. Margot Critch

  “I’m fine. I’m just tired. I didn’t get a lot of sleep.”

  “Maybe that’ll teach you to stop screwing around and focus on your job,” Quin joked as he raised his coffee mug to his lips. Gemma snorted into her own coffee. Both of them knew that Reid was the most serious of the three of them. It wasn’t often he was the one to miss work or be anything other than in complete control.

  Reid gave in to his earlier impulse and flipped his brother off and finished up his breakfast. He tried to put his missing phone out of his mind and appear to be invested in the conversation. “All right, I’m focused. You guys want to talk work, let’s do it. Are all of the press invites ready for the party next week?”

  “The press invites and more,” Quin said. “All the usual suspects.” He rattled off some local and national news sources. “Everyone wants an invite to a liquor launch party. I’ve also extended some invites to bloggers and online influencers, some local, some further out.”

  Reid rolled his eyes. Everyone was a celebrity in today’s shallow influencer culture. And that was not the sort of image that he wanted to portray with Rexford Rum. “Why?”

  “Because everyone uses the internet, grandpa. If influencers are talking about us, it’ll only increase sales and open us up to new markets.”

  He couldn’t argue with that. But he wasn’t sure if it was the right way to go about it. Reid had had this argument with Quin before. His younger brother wanted to make Rexford mainstream and more accessible, while Reid wanted to focus on boosting its luxury brand status. “We discussed keeping Rexford a luxury brand. Not a party one.” Reid recalled their wilder days, and he wasn’t interested in revisiting them, or being known as the brand chosen by those young adults who partied hard on spring break.

  Quin shrugged. “Can’t it be both? You don’t know the disposable income or the follower counts that some of these young people have, and if they’re on Instagram sipping our rum, we could go global. That’s what we want, isn’t it?”

  Reid knew he wasn’t going to win the argument, and he knew it wouldn’t be the end of the discussion. But shirtless in his kitchen, with Lila’s scent clinging to his skin, he wasn’t about to try. “Fine. We’ll discuss it later. I’m going to go shower.”

  “So, we’re all driving in together?” Gemma asked, clearing the plates from the table.

  “No,” Reid said too quickly, earning him strange looks from his siblings. He’d left his cell phone with a complete stranger. That meant if Lila had the know-how, she could break into his phone and be privy to all sorts of information about him and the company. He had to catch up with her before that could happen. But that would mean seeing her again, and he now knew he couldn’t trust himself around the woman, as his body heated in response to the idea of seeing her.

  Even as his heart thundered in his chest, and his blood rushed south, he had to hurry. “I changed my mind. I’ll take my own car. I’ve got something to do before I head in. I’ll see you at the distillery.”

  * * *

  Lila turned off the water and walked out of the glass shower stall, drying herself with the fluffy white hotel towel. She towel-dried her hair and glanced at her reflection in the mirror, noting her clear skin, her bright eyes and the indulgent smile that perched on her lips. A night of spectacular sex could certainly do that to a girl.

  Brushing her teeth, she thought about her night with Reid. It had been incredible. She never hooked up with men when she was working. But she was glad she’d made an exception for Reid. Shivering with the memories of how he’d kissed and touched her, she pulled on the hotel bathrobe and let the thick terry cloth cover her body before she walked out into her luxury suite. It was time to get to work and write her review for the restaurant she’d visited the night before. Where she’d met Reid. She hadn’t gotten a chance to make any notes after eating and would have to write her review from memory. But when she racked her brain, trying to remember anything about her dinner and drinks, or the atmosphere of the restaurant, all she could remember was Reid.

  She sat in front of her laptop for a while, the blank page of her Word document waiting for her to begin. Lila sighed. She lacked inspiration. The blog post she’d agreed to write eluded her, but she was certain she could write a thirty-thousand-word thesis on the way Reid had made her feel the night before.

  Bored and suddenly lacking motivation, she pulled up her blog and looked through her old posts. Parties, adventures and cultural events filled her archives. From Oktoberfest, to Coachella, to Carnival, to that unfortunate day she’d spent on Grand Exuma for the Fyre Festival, she had attended some of the best parties and most amazing events and festivals on the planet. She looked around her hotel room and sighed again. On paper, her life was incredible, full of fun. She was lucky to live the life she did. But as she looked around her room, Lila couldn’t help but note the sameness. She may have treated herself to a beachfront luxury hotel in Miami, but when you looked closely, every hotel was the same. The same beds, the same mass-produced art, the same TVs, the same desks, the same citrus-scented shampoo in the bathroom.

  That was why she needed to secure that deal with the GO! Channel, one of the world’s most prominent travel networks. For months, she’d been pitching her own television show to air weekly with added online content, website access, the whole nine yards.

  She loved to travel, but without an actual home to call her own, she was beginning to tire of life on the road. The television deal would give her the best of both worlds. She could travel, but she could also put down some roots in LA and give her a home base. It would give her a schedule, and the fame and financial stability so that her day-to-day life wouldn’t be such a grind of posting for likes and clicks, and searching for new income streams.

  “All right Lila, get to work, or get a real job,” she chided herself. She turned back to her blank document, but the white space continued to taunt her. When she tried to remember anything about Arlo’s, she could only see Reid. But she had to focus. She had to finish that one review before she moved on to her next Miami experience—she checked her open appointment book: a scooter tour, a couple of beachside food trucks, parasailing, and then Saturday night, the Rexford party. She had a lot of fun lined up for the next couple of days, and she couldn’t seem to motivate herself to do any of it. At least there would be rum at the party. Maybe she’d get another Cuba Libre. Her mouth watered, remembering the taste of the cocktail she’d had the night before. But first, she had work to do. Write the words; drink the rum. Unable to focus, though, her eyes shifted to the bed, with the sheets that she and Reid had rumpled. She’d readily agreed to just one night with him. But now she wished that she’d asked for more, or given him her number, or something. Even though it was unlikely he’d call or anything—he’d made it perfectly clear that he was not interested in more than one night. But having had that night with him, there was no doubt she wanted another.

  And that was when she saw a cell phone on the nightstand. It was black, whereas hers was pink. It must have been Reid’s. She picked it up and turned it on, wondering how she would ever get it back to him. There was no emergency contact number on the lock screen, but the picture displayed was of Reid, with a man and a woman who both shared similar facial features—the same brown eyes and high cheekbones. Probably his siblings. They were standing, smiling proudly, next to a sign that said Rexford Rum Distillery.

  Lila blinked and tilted her head as she took in the image. It all clicked into place. Reid. Rexford. She’d spent the night with one of the men who owned the facility she’d been set to tour? She returned to her computer and searched his name, and there he was, a picture of Reid in all his handsome, sexy glory. That second round she’d craved with him was now entirely possible. She would see him at the party.

  She was still gripping the phone when a knock on the door startled her. She hadn’t ordered room service and she couldn’t imagine why anyone would be coming
to her room. She put the phone on the bedside table. She walked to the door, checked the peephole, and saw the familiar profile of Reid Rexford. Pulling open the door, she gave him her sultriest smile. “Reid,” she purred in a way she’d never done before. He’d apparently turned her into some kind of wanton sex kitten. “What brings you by?” She raised her arm and leaned against the door in what she imagined—hoped—was a seductive pose.

  She saw his eyes roam up and down her body. The robe concealed most of it but thankfully hung loosely at her chest, gaping to give him a peek at her cleavage. His eyes flickered with a flash of heat that she recognized as desire. But a muscle in his cheek ticked as he set his sensual lips in a frown. “I think you have my cell phone,” he told her in a no-nonsense baritone.

  Rejected. Putting on her best sex kitten impression had barely affected him. Had she played her cards right, he should have ripped the robe from her body and carried her to the bed for another round. But instead he only wanted his cell phone?

  “I do,” she said over her shoulder, turning away. “Come on in.”

  He started to take a step forward, but instead remained in the doorway. “I’d better not.”

  Lila turned her head and struggled not to grin when she saw that his eyes were fixed on the king-size bed, and the sheets he’d helped rumple. Lila sauntered to where his cell phone lay on her nightstand and held it up to him. She shifted so that the loosely tied robe slid off her shoulder, still cinched at her waist, but gaping even further, showing off the rest of her chest and the tops of her breasts. She looked at him from across the room. “You going to come and get it?”

  Reid stood and watched her for several beats, not moving from the door. He huffed out a breath and stretched his neck, not taking his eyes from her. She thought he might leave outright without his phone, that she’d pushed him, but her fears proved to be unfounded when he took a step inside the room. He shut the door behind him and turned the lock. “I’m going to get it.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  LILA’S BREATH STOPPED short as Reid stalked toward her. His gait was sure and his gaze unwavering. She’d prodded him, poked him, and now Reid was delivering. He stopped in front of her, but he didn’t reach for his phone like she thought he might. Instead he pushed the fluffy robe from her chest. The cool air of the hotel room hit her skin, causing small goose bumps to rise, and pebbling her nipples. She felt her pulse pounding in her throat as he stared at her bared breasts.

  “What happened to one night only?” she reminded him.

  He stepped even closer, so that the tips of her breasts skated against the material of his shirt. She knew that underneath that was the dark curly hair she’d slid her hands over. Her palms itched to do it again. “If you don’t want me here, I’ll just take my phone and leave.”

  She shook her head. “That was your rule, remember? Not mine.”

  She heard what might have been a growl emanate from deep within his chest and his mouth captured hers in a kiss that bordered on ravenous. She attempted to breathe through her nose but was only able to take in his spicy cologne, and as his tongue swept in between her parted lips, she got a taste of his minty toothpaste.

  She kissed him back, hopefully matching his intensity, but she wasn’t sure that was possible. He made her feel wanted, desired. The way his fingers curled over her body, she could tell that he needed her, craved her. And to be wanted by a powerful, sensual man like Reid...

  She shuddered against his chest and her arms encircled his neck to draw him closer. He lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He walked her to the edge of the bed, dropped her so she landed on the mattress flat on her back and spread her legs. Taking her by the ankles, he brought her legs to his shoulders. He placed a hot kiss on her ankle and unbuckled his pants with one hand.

  Thankfully the box of condoms was still on the nightstand from the night before, and he reached over and grabbed one as he pushed his pants down his thighs, rolling the latex over himself. “Sorry if this is a little quick,” he grumbled, as he lined himself up with her center. “I’ve got to get to work.”

  She moaned when he rubbed his length against her. “Fine by me,” she told him, her eyes flutter closed at the luxurious contact. “I’ve got stuff to do today, too.”

  “Not yet, you don’t,” he told her, sliding inside her in one long, hard stroke.

  She arched off the bed and met him thrust for thrust. The angle of his movements made his cock glide against her clit, hitting her in just the right spot, bringing her closer to orgasm with every stroke. He leaned over her as his hips thrust, capturing one nipple between his lips. With his teeth and tongue, he plucked at the strings of desire within her, playing her body like an instrument until she came with a crescendo, crying out Reid’s name as he buried his face in her chest, his breath hot on her skin, and he played out his own release.

  He hovered over her for a moment. Then pushed himself off her body, and tossed the condom in a nearby trash can, while she straightened her robe.

  “Nice trick, Reid,” she said.

  “What’s that?” he asked, using his fingers to comb back the black hair that had fallen over his forehead.

  She shrugged. “Leaving your cell phone, just so you’d have to come back to get it?”

  He picked the phone up from the table, and immediately his thumbs moved over the screen. “Is that what you think happened?”

  “Isn’t it?”

  He didn’t look up from the screen. “Did you access anything on this?” he asked, studying the screen.

  That caught her off guard. “No, I just saw it on the nightstand before you showed up. Are you accusing me of something?” she asked, instinctively tightening the robe around her waist.

  He looked at her, his eyes roaming up and down her body, as if appraising her, gauging her reaction to his accusation. “No.”

  “What, did you think I’d hacked your phone and stolen all of your secrets?”

  “No, I’m sorry,” he told her, crossing the room to stand in front of her. He cupped her jaw in his long, strong fingers, and she couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “I guess I’m a little paranoid. I have reasons to be cautious.” She looked up at him and saw a certain vulnerability in his eyes.

  “Why?”

  He didn’t respond, but she saw him look down at his watch.

  “Time to go?” she teased.

  “Yeah, I have to get to work. And if I recall, you have things to do, too.”

  “That’s right. This is it, I guess?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” He looked away. “It’s probably for the best, don’t you think, parting like this?” It looked like he didn’t think that. Her pride stopped her from disagreeing. But she remembered that he was one of the owners of the Rexford Rum Distillery. Where she was headed later that afternoon. Maybe she would see him there. “Well, it was fun, Reid.”

  He turned around to smile. “Yeah, it was, Lila. I guess this is goodbye.”

  “I like to think of it as an ‘until next time.’”

  He laughed. “Next time.” With that he was gone. And despite wishing he’d stayed, Lila smiled. Reid might not know it, but next time would come sooner than he could have imagined.

  When Lila saw her agent’s number on the screen of her ringing cell phone, she answered more quickly than she normally would. “James, do you have good news?” she asked by way of greeting him, hoping he would have a GO! Channel contract to offer her.

  “Not yet. I was chatting with the execs and they have concerns.”

  “What kind of concerns?”

  “They’re afraid that people won’t know who you are. You aren’t a mainstream celebrity, and you’ve never carried a national campaign. They don’t know if your face—as gorgeous as it is,” he added, “will be able to carry a television show.”

  Lila closed her eyes and took in the news.
“They should just look at my follower numbers, the analytical information I provided to show that I know what I’m doing. People know me, and my word on a product or place means a lot.”

  “I know that, and so do many others. But you need to prove it to these guys. Let’s come up with something big,” he suggested. “Get into business with a brand. Why don’t we get together and brainstorm a way to convince these suits that you’ve got the juice?”

  Lila frowned. “Fine. Listen, I’ve got work to do. Can we talk another time?”

  “Yeah, sure thing. And we will find something for you. It might just take a little while.”

  “Thanks,” she said without much enthusiasm. “I’ll talk to you later. Bye.” She leaned back on the bed. She needed the GO! Channel offer. It would be her way to settle down, find an apartment in LA—establish a home base, a place to call her own. She made a good life on the road. But she was starting to tire of it. A reduced travel schedule would be a good thing for her before she suffered burnout.

  Again, Lila thought of Reid. Her body tingled in anticipation of seeing him again. They’d shared a definite connection and with her plans to visit the distillery later, while she didn’t think he would bend her over his desk, she wished he would. But she wondered if maybe she could propose some sort of arrangement. Hopefully he’d be interested in a business relationship, as well as their sexual one.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  HAVING MET WITH Gemma and Quin to go over next week’s work plans, Reid was now alone in his office. His laptop was open to his full calendar and a quarterly earnings spreadsheet, but he’d be damned if he could find an ounce of focus to actually do anything with either of them. It was thoughts of Lila that still sat at the forefront of his mind. She consumed him, even more than she had before he saw her earlier that morning.

  There was a knock on his closed door. He knew it was impossible, but wouldn’t it be something if it was Lila knocking? His heartbeat sped up—just a little—at the improbable idea and he shook his head. “Foolish,” he scolded himself right before he called out, “Come in.”