Taming Reid

by J. Margot Critch

  “It was nice to see you again. Thanks for the drinks, and the dance. I’m glad I got to see you again tonight. And we got to clear the air a little.”

  “Me too. It’s been fun. It’s been a while since I’ve danced.”

  She looked up at him and narrowed her eyes. He looked straight ahead; his posture was rigid. “But it’s over, right?” she guessed.

  “Yeah. Just let the doorman know whenever you’re ready to leave. He’ll get you a car.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’ll just call a cab or walk. My hotel isn’t far.”

  “Yeah, I know exactly where your hotel is,” he reminded her. Of course, he knew. He’d been there. Twice. “But I’m not letting you walk out of here alone,” he told her.

  “Thanks.” They stood. While Lila was disappointed she hadn’t set the groundwork for a partnership, she was glad to have had an actual conversation with him and get to know him a little bit better.

  “How much longer do you have in Miami?” he asked.

  “I fly out tomorrow night,” she told him.

  He nodded, but he was frowning. “Well, it’s been fun.”

  “It sure was,” she agreed. It was too bad that she was leaving soon. She knew she would miss Reid, and for the first time, she wondered if she would be leaving something behind.

  Without thinking, she reached out and wrapped her arms around him, and it surprised her when he hugged her back.

  His strong arms wrapped around her and the heat from his body made her melt her against him. He was standing so close she could smell the rum on his breath.

  She heard a low groan from his chest. “You leave tomorrow night?” he asked, his voice low.

  “Yeah,” she whispered back. Turning her head put her lips within a fraction of an inch of his jaw. There was only a hairbreadth of space between their bodies, and from the way he looked down at her, there was that spark of desire in his eyes that she couldn’t miss and knew he hadn’t either.

  “You’re still staying at the same hotel?”

  “I am.”

  “Why don’t I meet you there in an hour?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  TRUE TO HIS WORD, one hour later, Reid was standing outside of Lila’s hotel room. He’d been so close to a clean break with her. But instead, when he’d hugged her, the desire he felt had been too much. He’d done one final lap around the party, making sure everything was going smoothly, and avoiding the curious glances of his brother and sister, he quietly left. He knew Quin and Gemma would have questions tomorrow. But as he jogged down the street to Lila’s hotel, he didn’t give a damn. All he could think about was Lila.

  He raised his fist and knocked three times. The force behind the knock told of his urgency.

  Lila opened the door. She was still wearing the outfit she’d worn at the party. She smiled and stepped to the side, opening the door wider to let him in.

  Once inside, he slammed the door shut and then pounced. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. She was so sweet, so hot. Perfect. When he kissed Lila, there was nothing else—no family, no business, no commitments—nothing but her full, delicious lips.

  She pulled away first. “Reid,” she started, putting her hand on his chest. “I’m so glad you came here. I know we agreed it was best if we didn’t do this. What I said earlier—that was the smart, rational Lila speaking, but this is the Lila who wants you so badly she can barely breathe.” She smoothed her palms over his chest, and he cursed the material of his shirt for separating them. “There’s no reason why we can’t have one more night together, is there?”

  “I can’t think of a goddamn one.”

  “You sure you aren’t missing the party?”

  Reid thought briefly of what he might be missing—schmoozing with celebrities, hearing from customers. He knew that the night was an important one for the distillery. If it was a success, it could put them on the map and give them mainstream success. If it failed, it could ruin them. But when he looked down at Lila, it didn’t matter. “I’m not missing anything,” he told her, roughly pulling her to him. He kissed her.

  As he kissed her, her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers fisting his hair, as she lowered them, running her hands over her shoulders, down his chest. Her fingers were at his buttons, loosening them, undressing him. Reid was harder than he’d ever been in his life, and his need for her was greater than anything he’d ever wanted.

  He broke away only long enough to pull her shirt over her head. Her skirt was next. She stood in front of him in only her matching black bra and panties and black stilettos. “Christ,” he muttered against her throat. “You’re the sexiest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Lila pushed Reid’s shirt from his shoulders. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she told him, moving against his hardened cock, the delicious contact making him flinch. Adrenaline, the need to have her surged through his system, and his entire body clenched. His hands were on her ass. He lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She fit perfectly against him. He removed one hand from her ass and brought it to her red hair, pushing his fingers through the silky strands, until reaching the back of her head, where he wrapped her hair around his hand and pulled gently, forcing her eyes to his.

  Her lips parted with a startled gasp, and his entire body hardened with the image of his dick sliding between them. Her eyes were fiery, and her thighs tightened around his waist, and he could feel her heat against his abdomen. There was no time for any preliminaries—that would come later—right now, he needed to be inside of her.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. Lila made him feel like a wild man. He’d never been so out-of-control with a woman. His body was calling the shots, not his mind.

  He brought her to the bed and lowered her. He reached for a condom on the nightstand and he made quick work of lowering his pants and covering himself with the latex. He pulled down her panties and stood between her parted thighs.

  She reached for him, and when her fingers touched his dick, he thought he might explode. With a growl, he leaned over her and with one hand, he held both of her wrists over her head—pinning her to the bed.

  “You okay?” he asked her, his desire-addled brain barely able to form the words.

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Good.” He used his free hand to guide his dick to her opening and in one hard thrust, he was inside of her.

  The cry that tore from Lila’s lips filled the hotel room.

  Still holding both of her wrists, he pushed in and out of her. Her heat surrounded him, and it was more incredible than he remembered. Long forgotten were all his responsibilities, all his cares and worries. All that existed was Lila and his desire.

  His heart was pounding, and his muscles began to tighten. He increased his pace, shifting the bed underneath them. He wouldn’t last much longer. But he needed to make sure Lila found her pleasure before he took his own.

  With his free hand, he found her clit, and circled the sensitive nubs with the pads of his fingers. Her eyes snapped open, and she gasped. It only took a few seconds before she tightened and spasmed around him, crying out her release.

  Reid then let go and let himself succumb to the pleasure. From the bottom of his curling toes, to the flashes of light he saw behind his closed eyes, he took every amount of bliss from the moment before he collapsed on top of her still-quivering body.

  * * *

  When he awoke the next morning, with the sun in his eyes and his arm slung tightly around Lila’s waist, it was after noon, and Reid felt like he’d had the best sleep of his life. Lila’s deep, even breaths, accompanied by the rise and fall of her chest told him that she was still sleeping, and he pulled her closer, her red wild curls tickling his nose and cheek. He inhaled deeply. He wasn’t sure what had caused him to come to her the night before. He should have stayed at the party. It was his r
esponsibility. But when it came to Lila, for whatever reason, he didn’t care about anything else but being with her He’d shirked his responsibilities. Even during his marriage, he hadn’t done anything like that. The distillery had always come first.

  Lila gave a small whimper and burrowed herself deeper underneath the blanket. Meeting Lila had changed that. It wasn’t love, of course, he barely knew her, but Reid was completely in lust with the woman. She was pure temptation. She would be leaving town later that day. And that was how he justified his attraction to her. Theirs was a red-hot affair—but it was temporary.

  He heard his cell phone ring, the sound coming from his jacket, which had been left in a pile near the door. He should answer it. But that was when Lila, still asleep, rolled over in his arms to face him. There was no way he could tear himself away from her warm body. The phone quieted, and Reid closed his eyes. But when the phone rang again, he cursed.

  “Is that your phone?” Lila murmured, her eyes still closed.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’d better getter it.”

  “Could be an emergency.”

  Those words hit Reid like a punch to the chest. She was right. It could have been an emergency—that something has happened to Gemma, Quin or his father. Maybe something had happened at the distillery. There could have been a fire or mechanical breakdown, there could be batches ruined. Those were the things that plagued his mind on the short walk across the room. How many times had his phone rang and he’d slept through it? How long had he been content to ignore the calls, just as long as he was wrapped up in a woman he barely knew. Reid should know better.

  After a walk that took no more than eight steps, but felt like a mile, Reid reached his coat. He pulled out his phone and saw that Quin was calling. He answered. “What’s wrong?”

  “About time you answered your goddamn phone,” his brother admonished him.

  “What’s up? Is everything okay?”

  “We’ve been fielding phone calls from distributors all morning.”

  A ball of worry formed in Reid’s gut. “About what? What’s going on?” he asked, while picturing crisis situations involving ruined shipments, the inability to pay their bills and foreclosure. What had happened while he’d been in bed with Lila.

  “We’re sold out,” Quin told him.

  The words didn’t make sense at first. “Where?”

  “Dude, everywhere. Florida, Georgia and Alabama are dry, and the shelves are emptying as we speak everywhere else. We’ve got calls from stores LA, New York, Austin, Vegas and a bunch of other cities who want to carry our rum. Gemma’s got everyone working this morning, and emergency shipments going out.”

  “How did this happen? Was it the party?”

  “The party helped. But really, I think it was Lila Campbell,” he told him.

  “Lila?” Just hearing her name was enough for his body to clench in response. He looked over at her, and her eyes were open, watching him. He forced his brain to focus on the business and what Quin was telling him. But that was almost impossible when he could barely hear his brother’s words.

  “Her blog about the distillery went live last night, and within hours it was picked up by outlets all over the country. Along with her posts and those of the celebrities who attended our party... Reid, we’re trending on almost every social media platform—Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, Facebook. Pictures and videos are being shared everywhere.” He could hear the excitement in Quin’s voice. “This is insane. We’re on the edge, man. This is it. Rexford is going to pop off!”

  “Where are you?”

  “Gemma and I are here at the distillery, and we’ve been here since six. We’ve got her crew in trying to see how quickly we can restock and roll more out.”

  “Since six?”

  “Yeah, as soon as our social media accounts started seeing the action. Then the distributors and stores started calling.”

  Reid’s heart pounded with excitement. Rexford Rum was about to take off, and he’d missed the biggest morning they’d ever had. His siblings were dealing with supply issues, when that was supposed to be his job.

  “You left pretty early last night.” Quin paused. “Are you with Lila now?”

  He didn’t want to lie to his brother, so he said nothing. “I’m on my way over there now.”

  “Bring Lila with you,” Quin told him.

  “Why?”

  “Just do it. There’s something I want to discuss with her.”

  “You can tell me what it is.” Reid did not like being left out of the loop when it came to the distillery.

  “I will when you get here.”

  Reid wanted to know what was on his brother’s mind, but he knew that the quicker he could get off the phone, the faster he could get to work. “Okay, I’ll be right there.” Without saying goodbye to his brother, Reid disconnected the call, and turned to Lila.

  “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

  “Do you have any plans today?”

  Lila shook her head. “Just a late lunch with your sister.”

  “That’s probably cancelled now. Why don’t you get dressed and come with me?”

  “Where?”

  “The distillery.”

  “Why?”

  He watched as Lila got out of bed. His body reacted, wanting to push her down and have her again, but instead he turned away and began gathering his clothes. He had to get to work and put all his energy to solving his current supply problem. “Wouldn’t I love to know.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  LILA WASN’T SURE why Reid had asked her to join him at the Rexford distillery, but she was intrigued. He’d told her that demand for the rum was high thanks to whatever had happened last night. Checking her web site analytics and social media impressions, she knew that internet stars have aligned, and the social media gods had spoken, and Rexford Rum have been struck by lightning. But when it came to social media, posts and reach were not enough. Her blog post on the distillery had been picked up, and it coincided with the posts and pictures from all the celebrities at the party. This was some once-in-a-lifetime exposure for the distillery. And herself. Those kinds of results made her happy—not just for the reach of her own blog, and the increase in ad revenue, but it also gave her something to bring to the GO! Channel. Those stuffy executives couldn’t argue with raw data behind her creation of a media sensation.

  * * *

  From her seat in the hard, wooden chair in the distillery, she watched as Gemma’s distillers worked feverishly to get product out, while Reid, Quin and Gemma were locked inside Gemma’s small office. She was able to see inside, thanks to the large window over her desk. The siblings were engaged in what looked like a serious conversation. Despite their overnight success, they looked stressed. She couldn’t count the number of times she watched Reid run his fingers through his hair. His features were tight, serious. She still didn’t know why she was there. If only one of them would talk to her.

  Lila couldn’t sit any longer. She had to do something. So she stood from the uncomfortable chair, stretched her legs, and turned to check out the wall of photos behind her The inscriptions showed the evolution of the Rexford distillery starting with hand-drawn maps from the records of Joseph Rexford, the disgraced bootlegger and alleged pirate, who ran rum from Cuba and the Bahamas to what was now known as Miami Beach. Each photo showed growth, succession through the generations, until she came to the last one—a picture of Reid, Quin and Gemma, the same one she’d seen before on Reid’s phone. Smiling, proud in front of their humble distillery. The picture had to have been at least ten-years-old. She could see that Reid had aged gracefully in the past decade. In the photo, he lacked some of the lines at the corners of his eyes and lips. His smile was more carefree, less forced than the ones she’d seen from him in person, and she wondered what had changed.

  * * *

  “How are
we going to meet this demand?” Reid scrubbed his hands over his face. He looked over the production schedules Gemma had shown him, and then the demand projections over the next six months.

  “We aren’t,” Gemma said matter-of-factly, looking as frustrated as he felt. “We can start production ASAP on new batches, so we will have an abundance in a year at the earliest. Unless I can come up with something new, there’s no way to speed up the aging process on what we already have while maintaining quality. And I’m not compromising on quality.”

  “Nor should we. We need a way to keep this momentum, so that by the time the rum we’re producing right now is ready, people will still want it.” He turned to his brother. “You’re the marketing expert. How do we do that?”

  “I have something,” she offered, opening her locked drawer. “I was going through some old records and journals a little while ago, and I found something.” She took out a yellowed sheet of paper and laid it carefully on the desk in front of them.

  “What is that?” Reid asked.

  “It’s a recipe,” she told them. “It belonged to our great-grandfather. For an easy-to-make, unaged prohibition-era rum. You know how white and light batches don’t need to be aged. That’s how they did it back in the day. They made it and then immediately sold it. And it’s simple. Simpler than mine, and if I’m right about it, it can most likely be ready, bottled and out the door in just a couple of weeks. If it turns out good, it can keep us going long enough to start production on dark and spiced batches. I just wish there was a way to quick-distill and age those.”

  Quin nodded. “I like that. We can call it a throwback recipe. Boost the prohibition and rumrunner angle. Give it a good story, tie in the family history. It could work.” Reid looked over the orders that had come in that morning so far, and on top of their regular orders, this was the only thing that could help them fill some of the demand for their product. “That’s a good plan of attack,” Reid agreed, and even though he was glad they had a way out of their current predicament, he was still irritated that he hadn’t come up with it. He hadn’t even been there while the rest of the employees had worked that morning. He would never let himself get so distracted again. He didn’t care what happened, he would never put the family or the business on the back burner again. That was the priority—not rolling around with a gorgeous, charismatic temptress. He looked out through the window and saw Lila. He still didn’t know why Quin wanted to see her.