“God, I need you. Want you,” he rasps thickly.
“You have me,” I half moan, half sob. “I’m yours, Reyes. I’ve always been yours.”
“Damn fucking right.” Sucking hard on my nipple, he reaches between us and strokes my clit, driving spikes of white-hot pleasure to the sensitive nub.
I ride him harder, hips undulating wildly, my body a sizzling mass of sensations. His hands clamp down on my ass, spurring me even faster until I splinter apart, screaming his name to the night sky.
“Ah, baby. Fuck. Fuuuck.” His head goes back, his body straining against mine as he comes deep inside me, pulsing out every drop of his seed.
I bury my face in his neck and cling to him, his arms wrapped tight around my back as we ride out our orgasms together.
Eventually our breathing slows and our bodies stop trembling. When I raise my head, Reyes brushes his lips over mine, slow and languid.
I sigh blissfully. Nothing could be more perfect than this.
Staring into my eyes, he whispers huskily, “How’re you enjoying our sleepover so far?”
I grin from ear to ear. “Best. Sleepover. Ever.”
After a long night of wild lovemaking, I wake up the next morning feeling deliciously drugged. Reyes’s body is curled against mine, his arm a heavy bar across my waist.
He spooned me all night, I think, unable to hold in my huge smile. He didn’t want to let me go.
Slowly, carefully, I lift my head from my pillow and look over my shoulder at him.
He’s still asleep, his long black lashes fanning his cheeks. His black hair stands up in unruly disarray, and another layer of stubble darkens his jaw.
I drink him in, feasting on his beauty. I can’t get enough.
He stirs as if sensing my gaze, his eyes opening slowly to meet mine. My pulse flutters as a lazy smile drifts over his lips.
“Hey,” he murmurs, his voice like hot gravel.
I smile. “Hey, yourself.”
His eyes glint. “Were you watching me sleep?”
“No.”
He grins. “Liar.”
I snort and turn away, flopping back down on my pillow. “It’s early. Go back to sleep.”
“Nah. I’m up now.” His hand curls possessively around my waist, long fingers splaying against my stomach to pull me even closer.
I smile as I melt against him, warmed by his body heat and the sunlight pouring through the French doors.
“I love this view,” I say contentedly, gazing out at the scenery beyond the balcony. The perimeter of the sprawling property is lined with the tallest palm trees I’ve ever seen, stretching up to the heavens.
“How many acres do you have?” I ask.
“Fifty.”
“Wow.”
“I grew up on a ranch, remember? I need space to roam.” Reyes brushes my hair aside and kisses my shoulder, sending sparks flying around inside my body.
“Speaking of the ranch,” I murmur, “how often do you go back home?”
“As often as I can.”
“Really?” A pang of guilt makes me sigh. “I haven’t been home in three years.”
“I know.” His mouth is on the back of my neck, his lips nuzzling my skin. “Your mom told me.”
“Of course she did,” I say with an eye roll.
He chuckles, molding his palm over my breast. “Still jealous of our friendship?”
“I was never jealous of your friendship.”
“Sure,” he taunts, toying with my beaded nipple.
I bite my lip, burying my face in my pillow. I can feel his cock against my lower back. Thick. Heavy. Pulsing with arousal.
The man is insatiable, but I’m definitely not complaining.
“What time do you have to be at work?” he murmurs against my neck.
“Anytime. I don’t really have a set schedule, apart from the days when I have to be at the studio to tape Team Ticker.”
“So you can work from home today?”
I smile. “As long as I have my laptop, I can work from anywhere.”
“Good. Then you’re hanging out with me today.”
My stomach flutters. “Is that so?”
“Damn straight.” He gives my shoulder a little love bite. When I gasp, he soothes the sting with a soft flick of his tongue that curls my toes under the covers.
I wiggle my ass against him, and he groans before rolling me onto my back and rising above me, his delicious weight pinning me to the bed.
I stare up at him breathlessly. He looks so sinfully wicked that I almost make the sign of the cross and say three Hail Marys.
“Just so we’re clear,” I whisper, “I do have to get some actual work done at some point today.”
His eyes gleam. “At some point.”
I rake my nails down his sides and along his flanks, making him hiss and buck his hips.
When I grin, he retaliates by taking my hands and pinning them on either side of my head, lacing our fingers together.
I grin harder and wrap my legs around his waist. “I’m serious.”
“So am I.” He circles his hips, stroking between the cradle of my thighs before sinking slowly inside me. “I’m very serious.”
I moan with pleasure as the long, hard length of his shaft fills me up. “Reyes . . . God.”
He pushes deeper, his gaze locked to my face as he begins a slow grind.
Then there’s no more talk about work . . . or anything else.
Chapter Twenty
REYES
Emerson spends the rest of the week with me.
We shower together every morning, feed each other breakfast, debate sports and politics, and cook dinner together.
We play video games, talking trash like old times. We roughhouse on the floor, swim in the pool and chase each other around the backyard with water guns.
We snuggle on the couch one night and watch a movie, our bodies pressed so close together we could be one person.
We also have lots of sex. Crazy hot, animalistic, no-holds-barred sex. We can’t get enough of each other.
It’s the most incredible week I’ve had in years. I keep telling myself not to get too comfortable with having Emerson back in my life.
But it’s too late, and I know it.
Fuck. Me.
On friday morning i meet with my new southern regional director to discuss the strategic plan for the year. It’s a productive meeting, and Darynda’s knowledgeable input validates my decision to hire her.
Just as we’re wrapping things up, the new receptionist’s voice crackles over the intercom on my desk. “Sorry to interrupt, sir, but you have a visitor.”
A smile crawls across my face. Because I know who the visitor is. “I’ll be out shortly.”
“Yes, sir.” The receptionist clicks off.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Darynda says, gathering her paperwork. “Thanks for carving out some time to meet with me.”
“No thanks necessary,” I tell her, rising from the table. “I’m glad we were able to hash everything out and set some goals.”
“Me, too.” A dimpled smile creases her smooth brown cheeks. “After lunch I’ll get in touch with the conference chair to finalize the agenda.”
“Awesome. We’ll touch base afterward.” I escort her to the door and open it, following her down the hallway to the reception area.
Sure enough, Emerson sits in a chair scrolling through her phone. She’s wearing a white button-down shirt and a tan linen skirt with wedge-heeled sandals. Her auburn hair falls forward to curtain her face as she bends over her phone. Her legs are crossed—bare, silky smooth and shapely.
Just the sight of her makes my heart pound and my dick get hard. We were up before dawn fucking like our lives depended on it. If she didn’t have to leave for the studio, I wouldn’t have let her out of bed.
As Darynda heads off to her office, Emerson glances up and sees me standing there with what I can only imagine is a look of raw hunger to match the thickeni
ng bulge in my pants.
She smiles almost shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself,” I murmur.
She uncrosses those beautiful legs and stands. “Hope I’m not disturbing you.”
“Not at all. Your timing’s perfect.” I hold out my hand to her.
She comes forward and takes it, her smile widening in a way that makes my heart catch.
I glance at my receptionist, whose expression is purposely neutral. “Please hold my calls, Maite.”
“Yes, sir,” she chirps dutifully.
I lead Emerson down the hallway to my office.
“Holy shit,” she exclaims as she steps through the glass double doors, looking around in amazement. “Well hello, Mr. CEO.”
I chuckle, closing the doors behind us. “It’s a bit larger than I would’ve preferred. The contractor took liberties.”
“No kidding. This office is twice the size of my freaking apartment.” Her gaze travels to the wall dominated by numerous QLED televisions streaming financial news and current events around the globe. “Wow.”
I smile. “I like to keep abreast of what’s going on in the world while I work.”
“Good on you.” She makes her way to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking downtown. Staring outside, she whistles appreciatively and shakes her head. “How do you get any actual work done with a view like this?”
“I’m very disciplined.” I come up behind her, brush her hair over her shoulder and nuzzle her soft nape, feeling her shiver against my lips. Her skin is warm and smells like honeysuckle. I want to devour her whole.
When she turns to face me, I lean down and cover her mouth with mine.
She sighs with pleasure and wraps her arms around my neck. Her mouth is hot and sweet, her body lush and sexy against mine.
I kiss the hell out of her, gliding my palms down her back to cup her round ass. She does two hundred squats every other day, and the results are fucking phenomenal.
“I came to see if you were free for lunch,” she whispers between kisses. “I’m treating.”
“Mmm. Nice.” I slide my tongue over hers, along her teeth and across the roof of her mouth.
She moans softly, her nipples hardening against my chest as her fingers bunch in my hair. “So—” She sucks my tongue, making me groan “—is that a yes?”
I clutch her ass, hauling her closer. I want to take her right there, up against the window, and I don’t give a damn who sees us.
“I’d love to have lunch with you,” I whisper, kissing my way down her arched throat, “but I’m already having lunch with the GM and Coach Forsyth.”
Emerson tenses a little. “Oh.”
I draw back to stare down at her. “Can I take a rain check?”
“Sure. Of course.” She bites her bottom lip, her eyes clouding.
I frown. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me,” I warn softly.
“I’m not. It’s just . . . you just reminded me that . . .” She trails off, dropping her gaze to my chest before sighing. “My editor says he might take me off the NFL beat if you and I are dating. Having a relationship with you is a conflict of interest.”
“I see.” I search her eyes for a long moment. “And how do you feel about that?”
“Disappointed,” she ruefully admits. “Football is my favorite sport. I love covering the NFL, and I’d really hate to be reassigned. But perception is everything in this business. No one will believe that I can objectively report on the Renegades when I’m sleeping with their star quarterback.”
I stroke her jaw. “Is that what we’re doing, Em? Sleeping together?”
She drops her arms from around my neck. “You tell me, Reyes. What are we doing? Are we just having fun? Or is this leading somewhere?”
“I don’t know,” I murmur, tracing the outline of her lips with my thumb. “We’re spending time together, enjoying each other’s company, getting reacquainted. Let’s just leave it at that for now.”
She swallows and nods. I can tell she wanted more from me. More than I’m ready to give.
My eyes probe hers. “I don’t want to force you to choose between me and your career. At the end of the day, you have to do what’s best for you. Whatever that is.”
She stares up at me. “I want to be with you, Reyes. I gave you up once before. I’m not willing to do that again.”
Hearing her say that warms my insides. “Are you sure?”
She smiles softly. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
I tenderly stroke her cheek. “Maybe I could talk to your editor.”
Her smile slips. “Why?”
“To get him to change his mind.”
She shakes her head swiftly. “I don’t think so.”
“It might help.”
“Or it might make things worse.”
I frown. “Let me just—”
“No. Absolutely not. Don’t even—” She breaks off abruptly, staring past my shoulder with a look of stunned confusion. “What the . . .”
I turn my head, following her gaze to the wall of streaming TVs. One of them is tuned to a local news station. When I see FBI agents leading a handcuffed businessman past a swarm of reporters, dread drops into the pit of my stomach.
The man’s head is bowed, but I’d recognize the motherfucker anywhere.
“Turn up the volume,” Emerson croaks, pushing past me. “Turn up the volume!”
I stride over to my desk, grab the remote control and punch up the volume for screen number six.
“. . . has just been taken into federal custody,” the news anchor is saying. “Sartori, a fifty-two-year-old hedge fund manager, is accused of defrauding investors out of millions—”
Emerson makes a strangled sound.
I turn and catch her just as she sways on her feet.
“I got you,” I murmur, easing her gently into a visitor’s chair.
Her eyes are wide and glassy with shock as she stares at the television, watching as her estranged father is lowered into the backseat of a black federal car.
“Today’s arrest is the culmination of a two-year investigation into Sartori’s business practices,” the anchor continues. “The elite financier worked at Goldman Sachs in New York before founding his own investment management firm, Sartori Capital Group. According to federal investigators, Sartori swindled hundreds of his clients to the tune of eight hundred million dollars—”
“Oh, my God!” Emerson gasps.
I grab the remote and shut off the TV so she doesn’t have to hear anymore.
“My father . . . an embezzler . . .” She trails off, staring at me in wild-eyed disbelief. “Why is he even here? In Piedmont Bay? What . . . how . . . ?”
I pour her a glass of water and guide it into her trembling hands. “Here, drink.”
She takes a shaky sip. All the color has drained from her face. “Oh, my God, Reyes,” she whispers with rising panic. “Oh, my God—”
“Take deep breaths, baby,” I command, crouching in front of her and rubbing her knee. “I know you’ve just had a huge shock, but try to stay calm.”
She’s not listening. “How could he steal from all those people? How could he?”
“I don’t know, Em,” I murmur grimly.
She shakes her head, staring at the blank TV screen as if searching for the answers I can’t provide.
Watching her, my heart twists at the memory of the tormented girl who used to flee to my house to escape the dysfunctional misery at home. I feel just as helpless now as I did back then.
“I had no idea he was here,” she says, a hitch in her voice like a swallowed sob. “All this time . . . I thought he was still in New York.”
I carefully take the water glass from her hand, my gut churning with guilt.
Something in my expression makes her grow still.
“Reyes?” Her voice is thready. “Look at me.”
I ha
ng my head for a moment, then push out a heavy breath and look up at her.
She searches my face. “You didn’t know about my father living in Piedmont Bay, did you?”
I swallow hard and clench my jaw. Then nod.
She stiffens, staring at me with wounded eyes that break my heart. “Why . . . why didn’t you tell me?”
I push slowly to my feet. “She didn’t want you to know—”
“She? You mean my mother?”
“Yes.”
Fury tightens Emerson’s features. “So she told you but not me?” she exclaims, rising from the chair. “She didn’t deem it important to tell her own daughter that her estranged father was living in the same city? She didn’t think such information would be useful to me just in case I ran into him on the street or in the grocery store? Tell me, Reyes. Since you’re obviously more informed on the matter, please tell me how she reached the decision to keep me in the fucking dark!”
I hesitate, my jaw ticking. “I was there when the package came.”
“What package?” Emerson demands.
“Just some life insurance documents, something your mother had to sign and return to your father’s attorney. I had stopped by for a visit when the papers were delivered. That’s when she found out your dad had left New York and—”
“When?”
“What?”
“When did she find out?” Emerson’s voice is shrill now. “How long has my mother known about him being here?”
I grit my teeth, raking my hand through my hair. “It doesn’t matter—”
“It matters to me! I have a right to know!”
“Last year, all right! She found out last April!” I curse under my breath, watching guiltily as stunned tears rush into Emerson’s eyes.
“A year,” she echoes faintly. “A whole fucking year.”
“It wasn’t an easy decision,” I say grimly. “She wanted to tell you, but she didn’t know how you’d react and she didn’t want to upset you. And then your father . . . well, he asked her not to tell you until he was ready.”
“And when was that supposed to be? Before or after he got arrested for embezzling almost a billion dollars?” Emerson glares accusingly at me. “You asked me about him that night over dinner when you knew all along he was here.”
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