by Kate Benson
Before this morning, Adam Avery didn’t know I existed. There’s no way I could be capable of making him jealous.
The way he squares his jaw as he positions his chair slightly closer makes me wonder if I’m not so crazy after all.
This is going to be one hell of a long night.
Adam
I don’t know what the hell my problem is, but I can’t deny the twinge of envy that flares in my chest when I see Isabella’s reaction to the men sitting across from us.
I’m sure I can keep my newfound emotions under wraps until the slight growl slips from my chest. I’ve never been the jealous type, but something about her brings it out full force in me. I can’t explain it, but I guess I don’t need to.
I just need to extinguish it.
Isabella might be my employee, but she’s not mine.
As I sit, shifting my seat slightly closer, I realize for the first time that’s exactly what I want her to be.
Chapter Seven
Isabella
“Well, the differences will be slight, I can assure you of that. While I’m eager to help bring forth a few fresh and exciting ventures, I’m very respectful of the work my uncle has done for this company and the community,” Adam continues, gesturing toward our server who quickly brings us another round, making my head spin.
I’ve never been much of a drinker. I enjoy wine, but rarely in excess. As my glass is filled a fourth time in the span of just over an hour, I can’t deny my eyes are growing slightly heavy, my belly warming.
I’d love to blame the alcohol for the latter, but that would be an obvious lie.
Over the course of our evening, I’ve learned that the contract Richard had been negotiating with Drake Mitchell extended far past a few new buildings going up. Drake was looking for investment opportunities as well and Avery Finance was at the top of his list.
I’ve seen Adam Avery move flawlessly throughout the office, sleeves rolled up as he got stuck in his head and barging through the executive floor barking orders, but tonight is the first time I’ve watched him performing in his element. The way he speaks, moves, his every action combined with the effects of the wine have me more than aroused.
If I’m being honest, I’m halfway to puddle status.
“And what are you projections?” Drake pulls at my attention.
“We’ve projected a fourteen percent increase over the next two quarters,” Adam replies confidently. “It’s hard to guess beyond that in the current market, but I think we’ve got more than enough resources to continue that momentum into the New Year. Based off of our reports, it’s the right direction to take this.”
“From a marketing standpoint, I’d have to agree wholeheartedly,” I offer, pulling their eyes to mine. After more than twenty minutes of me nursing my wine in silence, I don’t miss their surprise at my boldness. In fact, I’m feeling a little surprised myself, but I know my job and have had just enough wine to get courageous. “If you read over those reports, the numbers are there, black and white. However, I can attest personally that over the course of the last two years, our department has tested multiple marketing strategies and the method we’re proposing to you tonight has always delivered impeccable results. Not only is the overhead low, decreasing risk for everyone involved, but the return we’ve experienced in the past is undeniable. The design for this plan has been used successfully in a multitude of previous endeavors, all meticulously documented, and we’ve always found increases for our stockholders as well as the company itself. At least two of the last five expansions, both of which were located in harder-to-market areas, have seen vast improvements following this method.”
“Interesting,” Brad muses. “Those are some pretty impressive statistics.”
“They certainly are,” Drake nods. “But if you’re intent in taking this company in a new and fresh direction, should you really be reliant on policies and methods that have been used so heavily in the past? Why not teach this old dog a few new tricks?”
“Perhaps my favorite thing about marketing is that with the right advertising campaign, an old dog can manipulate any trick you like, Mr. Mitchell, making it seem like new,” I assure him, my own confidence shining through. “Besides, I’m sure you’re familiar with the saying, ‘if it ain’t broke…?’”
“Good point,” he chuckles, smiling broadly at Adam whose eyes I can feel on me. “I see why you brought her. She must be your ace in the hole.”
“I’m sorry to come off forcefully,” I smile, the wine doing little to calm the blush on my cheeks. “I just know what our department and this company is capable of. I’ve seen it time and time again working under Richard’s lead and I have no doubt that Ad… Mr. Avery,” I stumble, catching myself. “Will help further our success.”
“Well, you’ve made one hell of a presentation. That’s for sure,” Brad smiles wide.
“You definitely have,” Adam says low, making my chest flurry.
I can’t tell if the feeling buzzing inside my chest is due to him or the win.
“Thank you,” I say graciously, placing my linen napkin to the side and slowly pushing away from the table. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment.”
“Of course,” they say in unison, each of them rising with me in true gentlemen’s fashion.
“I actually need to make a call,” Brad announces, pulling another nod from Drake and Adam as I move to stand.
The feel of Adam’s fingertips brushing my shoulders as he helps pull my chair out has my skin on fire almost instantly. As I turn to face him, he’s closer than I thought and his hot breath dances over my skin.
“I’ll be right back,” I manage, swallowing hard as his eyes bore into mine.
In them, I find the same animalistic quality smoldering within his gaze I’d noticed today in his office and then again later when he set me straight outside.
“Take your time,” he says quietly, giving me a discreet wink. “Nice work, Isabella.”
Adam
Drake and I settle as she goes, but I can’t keep my eyes from her until she’s disappeared around the corner.
When I asked-okay ordered-Isabella to come with me tonight, I’d admittedly not been sure what to expect. While I couldn’t say I ever expected a smile and nod type of girl, as she’d put it, I hate to admit I hadn’t expected her to be so at ease.
A situation like tonight’s, a business dinner negotiating multi-million dollar account with a potential investor that could transform the future of the company, is stressful even for someone like me and I’ve done it more times than I can count. She not only walked into a stressful situation looking immaculate, she’s holding true to her word of being much more than arm candy.
She’s the last thing I need, the last thing I should want, but the complications that come with the emotions coursing through me don’t matter.
I couldn’t want her more.
“That’s quite the secret weapon you’ve got there, Adam,” Drake pulls at my attention, his lips quirking up behind his glass as he meets my eyes. “I can see why you’ve put your trust in her. She’s smart and she knows her stuff. You’d do well to keep a woman like her close.”
“She’s definitely an asset to the company,” I say, leaning forward for my glass, my eyes moving back to his when I hear his deep chuckle.
“The company, huh?” he smirks. “Well, that answers my second question.”
“And what was that?”
“She has no idea, does she?” he asks, swirling the ice in his glass before gesturing for another round.
His eyes come back to mine and in them, I see the silent comradery I somehow recognized the moment I saw him.
In more ways than one, Drake and I, we’re one and the same.
“No,” I admit, pulling an amused nod from him.
“I recognized the fear,” he chuckles, leaning back in his seat. “Can I give you a little friendly advice?”
“Sure.”
“It’s a challenge, some days more tha
n others,” he sighs, something hidden in his expression that says there’s so much more to his story than what I’m getting over drinks. “Men like us, although we may not shy from challenge, we also tend to prefer our packages come neatly wrapped,” he smirks, pulling a nod from me. “Don’t let a little feist scare you off,” he smiles, gesturing toward the platinum band on his ring finger. “Sometimes all it takes is the right challenge to make an honest man… one woman who isn’t afraid of a little topping to turn the whole world on its axis.”
Chapter Eight
Isabella
Once I return from the ladies room, my nerves are slightly settled, but only just. The moment Adam’s eyes meet mine, the same carnal force behind them steamrolls me and my breathing falters.
I take my seat beside him and for a moment, can’t be sure if I’m imagining his closeness. The memory of tasting his breath on mine when he steadied me before is all-consuming and before our meeting has time to resume, my belly is already a flurry once more.
Negotiations continue, although they seem to go much quicker now than I thought they would. Apparently, we’ve made a good pitch and something happened in the short time I’d been trying to gather my senses that had Adam and Drake seeing eye-to-eye.
Another round of wine comes before the final handshakes are made and by the time they finalize the deal that I have a feeling will transform the future of the company, it’s closing in on midnight.
Thank God for Friday nights, I think to myself. I’m much too much of a lightweight to drink this much and then be productive the next morning at work.
Once pleasantries are exchanged and hands are shaken a final time, Drake and his partner, Brad, leave us with a promise to keep in touch, a slight shift in Drake’s tone as he addresses Adam hard to deny.
We watch them go and we sink back into our seats with a deep sigh from both of us, Adam’s filled with relief, mine with anticipation.
There’s a comfortable, yet exhausted silence between us, evidence of the stressful and emotional first evening we’ve shared together.
“Can I get the two of you anything else this evening?” the waiter asks, pulling our attention.
“One more round for each of us,” Adam says low, pulling a polite nod from him. “And the check.”
“Yes, sir,” he smiles, leaving Adam and I alone once more.
He glances down at me, his eyes traveling over my chest not lost on me. Normally, I’d make a fuss, but I’m not only too drunk to care, I’m just as busy memorizing the bow in his full lips and the strong cut of his scruffy jawline.
“You’ve grown quiet,” he says, his voice quite low himself. “What are you thinking about?”
“That that was pretty intense,” I admit when the waiter returns, seemingly instantly, and my words begin to slur just slightly. “And I’m not sure I can drink much more.”
“I simply ask you have just one final victory sip,” he smirks down at me, his fingertips brushing mine as his eyes begin to dance. “I promise to get you home safe, but no quitting on me now,” he whispers. “Besides, you’ve more than earned it, Miss Baxter.”
There’s something in his eyes, something slight that pulls at me deep, telling me I couldn’t deny him even if I wanted to.
That doesn’t matter, though.
I don’t want to deny him anything.
“You’re the boss,” I nod, giving him a demure smile, blushing once more as a playful grin spreads across his lips.
“Good girl,” he chuckles, tapping his glass against mine.
He lifts his glass to his lips, his eyes never leaving mine as I drain my wine in one long gulp, following suit. As our glasses rest against the table, they clank quietly against each other, the slight ding startling us both enough to pull a low giggle from my chest.
“That was one hell of a victory sip,” I smile, pulling a nod from him.
“It was,” he smirks, moving to stand. “If you’re ready?”
“Yes, thank you,” I say with my own nod, lifting myself and stumbling slightly, grateful for the way he quickly grips my elbow, steadying me although I still fall into his hard chest. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he says, giving my arm a gentle squeeze as his eyes stay locked on mine.
I should pull away, steady myself, maybe ask for a glass of water. I should do a million things in this moment, but as his eyes bore into mine, the taste of scotch slipping from his breath mixed with his masculine scent drowns out all reason and I do none of the things I know I should. Instead, I do the unthinkable.
I lean up on my toes and press my lips to his.
Adam
Her lips are like satin.
The moment they touch mine, I’m stuck somewhere between shock, rage and desire. I know I should pull away, but as one of her hands wraps around my neck, the other falling lazily against my stomach, all I can do is kiss her back.
She teases my mouth with her tongue, tasting me, begging me for entry that I know ethically I shouldn’t allow. I do. I flick the end of my tongue against hers, the action pulling a soft sigh from her chest as her fingers begin to grab hold of my shirt, pulling it into her grip.
Her body begins to relax against mine and as her nipples graze my chest, I swallow hard, the hand I’m using to steady her waist pulling her closer. Its then, as my thumb grazes low against her hip pulling a moan from her that we freeze, both of us seeming to realize for the first time the bold line we’ve just stumbled over.
Fuck.
Our eyes pop open simultaneously, both of us staring into the other. She pulls back clumsily, only held upright by my grip on her waist as her fingertips move to her lips.
I’ve really fucked up.
As badly as I’ve wanted to taste her all night, since I met her if I’m being honest, I shouldn’t have let it happen.
I’m staring down at her, calling myself every name in the book when her voice breaks my thoughts.
“I’m sorry,” she manages, her voice cracking as her cheeks flare in embarrassment. “Oh, my God,” she steps away, clenching her eyes shut tight as she buries her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
She blames herself.
Clearing my throat, I step away from her and run my palm over my jaw.
“Ada- shit…” she whispers to herself. “Mr. Avery, I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m so sorry.”
My eyes dart toward hers, the regret lacing them more than I can bear.
She blames herself when she’s the last person to blame. Even if I wasn’t her boss, the one who should be in control-the one who normally is in total control-her lips aren’t something any hot-blooded man can gaze upon without having the undeniable need to taste.
Still, I should have been stronger.
This isn’t her fault at all. Only one of us is to blame for this and it clearly isn’t Isabella.
If tonight has proven anything, it’s that I want her. I want her bad, but that doesn’t negate from the fact that I never should have crossed this line with her. Not just as her boss. As wrong as that is on its own level, I know now having tasted her, knowing what I’m missing will only make things harder.
“It was completely unprofessional,” she continues, her voice growing frantic with my silence. “I swear, I’m not that kind of girl. I would never…”
“We should go,” I cut her off, smoothing my shirt out and glancing over at her, unable to meet her eyes.
I see her nod from the corner of my eye, her full lower lip still swollen from my kiss tucked snugly behind her teeth.
I lead her out of the small, private area we’d just occupied for the last few hours, giving our waiter a silent nod of appreciation as we make our way through the crowded, upscale restaurant. A few of the other diners glance up at us as we pass them, none of them aware of the turmoil going on in our minds as her make our way to the valet stand.
Although I’m silent as we wait for my car, my thoughts are anything but. I’m at war with mysel
f, torn between my responsibilities and my insatiable desire for the woman still breathing heavily in panic beside me. I know I should say something, anything to set her troubled mind at ease, but I can’t yet.
How can I set her mind at ease when my own is comparable to a hurricane?
I can see my headlights moving closer, the valet only a few feet away, taunting me with the promise of either salvation or condemnation, which I can’t be sure yet.
“I wish you would just say something,” she whispers her admission, so quiet it’s nearly lost to the breeze as my eyes clench tight once more. “Why won’t you…?”
“Mr. Avery?” the valet cuts her off, pulling my eyes open. “It’s been a pleasure serving you this evening.”
“Thank you,” I offer politely, taking my keys as I feel her eyes boring into me from behind.
“So, you can hear me, you’re just choosing to ignore me,” she says boldly, making both my cock and my palm twitch. “I’m sorry,” she tries to recover as she sees my expression. “I’m just… Jesus Christ, I’m freaking out. I wish you would…”
“Please just get in the car, Miss Baxter,” I manage, staring down at her as her eyes grow softer with regret as she gives me a subtle nod.
I secure her door and slowly step around the front of my Maserati, feeling her gaze on me the whole way. A quick glance across the hood confirms her anxiety and I can’t help but wonder if she sees the same thing in me as our eyes meet.
With a deep breath, I pull the door open and slip inside, staring out ahead for a brief second before I wind my seatbelt around my front.
“I know I’ve just monumentally fucked myself and I also know I’m talking much more than I probably should be right now,” she blurts, pulling my eyes to hers. “But if you’re going to fire me, I wish you would just tell me now instead of waiting until Monday morning.”
Her chest is heaving, her breaths leaving her in pants as she peers up at me, the silk clinging to her in all the right places. She’s giving me an out I know I should take, but as I stare back at her, the taste of her lips still fresh on mine, the control I’m craving has nothing to do with being her employer.