When Fates Collide

by Isabelle Richards

  I spend my workdays staring at the blinking cursor. I have so much work to do, but I can’t focus. Instead of writing, I keep looking over my shoulder to see if anyone’s watching me. The one saving grace is that Charlie doesn’t show up once at Politics and Prose the whole four days. The last thing I need right now is to have to deal with him. He pings me a few times on Google chat. Seems he has a bug or something. I haven’t responded. Hopefully he’ll get the message.

  Over the course of the mission, I spend more time with Max, Sully, and Greene than I ever imagined I would. It’s a good thing I love these boys because otherwise, I’d kill them before we’ve found whoever’s tailing me. By the end of the week, we’ve managed to find three different guys that show up three or four times throughout the surveillance footage. Now, my part’s done, and the boys get to track them down.

  Before I know it, the conference I’m covering in Boston starts tomorrow. Max says he doesn’t see a problem with me going, as long as I don’t go off schedule and I stay in crowded areas. I suspect he’s sending an agent to tail me in case I go rogue, but it’s not necessary. I’m frightened enough to toe the line. I’m scheduled to spend my days at Harvard and then go home to Em’s. Em has promised that we’ll order takeout and spend our nights in. I have no idea what the plan may be for when I see Gavin, as I haven’t been able to connect with him since before my joyride in the car, but Max says he’ll take care of it.

  Before I catch my flight the next morning, the real estate agent comes by the condo with the closing documents for my new place. After a million signatures, I’m officially a homeowner. Well, a condo owner. I’ve already packed up my few things in Meredith’s apartment. Max has said he’ll move them for me this week. I must have reminded him a dozen times to remember my peace lily. I can’t forget the proof of the only time Gavin has ever backed down. As I lock up Mer’s apartment one last time, I say a quiet good-bye. I’ve had a lot of memories in this place. Time to go and make some new ones.

  Twenty-One

  Boston in the fall is beautiful. When I land at Logan, I find Bruce, Em’s driver, waiting for me at the curb. He drives me over to the Harvard campus with just enough time to spare for me to wander around a bit and get my bearings. The next three days are dreadfully boring. Nerdy doctors talking about... well, it’s hard to tell what they’re talking about because they don’t speak English—they only speak doctor. I wish my client had picked someone with a science background for this. I’m in over my head.

  By Wednesday, the clock is ticking, and I’m desperate for an angle for my article. But for that I need a translator. During the lunch break between lectures, I scour the conference room for the perfect guy: nerdy, but not so introverted he’ll be afraid of me or won’t give me the time of day. I need a Leonard, not a Sheldon.

  I spot the perfect target, and I go in for the kill. After popping an extra button at the top of my blouse, I prepare to pull out a tool from my toolbox of feminine wiles that I’d always sworn I’d never use. A hair twirl and a few high pitched giggles later, I’m just a dumb blonde who just can’t understand all this complicated science “stuff.” Dr. Ian Crammer is more than happy to explain things to me. He sits and talks with me until I understand the material well enough to write about it. Not only that, but he takes me around and introduces me to the most influential people at the conference. I guess he probably wanted someone to see that a girl was chatting him up. If that’s the case, I suppose we both win.

  By the end of lunch, I have everything I need, so I head out to get a mani-pedi and a wax before Gavin arrives. I’m not sure exactly what time he’s supposed to get in. Poor guy is going to be exhausted after flying all night and then sitting in meetings all day. I know he made it harder on himself so that he could squeeze in a visit with me. But I’m thrilled he has.

  I’m not sure where we’re staying, and I haven’t been able get a hold of him yet today. So I futz around Copley Place. Buy some very sexy lingerie, an amazing deep red backless cocktail dress to wear to dinner, and some fabulous stilettos on killer sale to go with it.

  At five, I finally receive a text from Gavin. He wants me to meet him at the Four Seasons—penthouse. I should’ve known. Excited beyond measure, I practically run to the hotel. My heels echo on the black-and-gold marble floor as I walk with determination, searching for the elevator. I’ve pushed the button a dozen times, as if that will make the car arrive quicker, when my feet suddenly leave the floor. My left shoe falls off my foot as I’m spun around. “I couldn’t wait another second,” Gavin says in between kisses.

  After we’ve been kissing for what seems like forever, he puts me down. I open my eyes and see the whole lobby staring at us. Guess we’ve made a scene again. His chest puffs up, telling me he’s as proud as can be, but I’m mortified. I snatch my shoe off the ground and scurry onto the elevator. Thankfully, he collects my forgotten bags, which I had dropped during our public kiss-fest.

  The elevator fills quickly, pushing us to the back of the car. Gavin’s hand presses possessively across my stomach, and I lean my head against his chest, his heart pounding in my ear. Closing my eyes, I float in the heavenly smell of his cologne. He pulls me tight against him. My contours hug his shape, as if I were drawn to fit around him. Being encased in the sensory experience that is Gavin is blissfully orgasmic, even fully dressed. In the weeks since he left DC, I’ve felt out of sorts, but being next to him for this three-minute elevator ride, I feel myself coming back together.

  He threads his fingers between mine just before the elevator car opens, then kisses the back of my hand before leading me to our hotel room. Few words have been spoken between us, but the anticipation is palpable. He winks as he slides the key card in, unlocking the door. The green light clicks on, and in one smooth movement, he pulls me in the room, kicks the door closed, and has me pinned against the wall.

  Gavin brushes a stray lock of hair out of my eyes. “I didn’t think it was possible, but you’re even more beautiful than I remember.”

  Unable to hold back another moment, I kiss him. We become a tangle of tongues and limbs, crashing together, eager for more contact. My fingertips trace the toned muscles of his back as his arms envelope me, pulling me so close that I can no longer ignore the already impressive bulge in his pants. A deep groan escapes his lips when I wrap my legs around him, desperate for friction. He pushes me harder against the wall. I’m sure there’ll be a bruise tomorrow, but the slight pain will be such a delicious reminder of this moment.

  Gavin’s movements are raw, almost violent with desperation. He cups my ass, digging his fingers into the backs of my thighs, making me gasp with delight. The unbridled passion between us is intoxicating, making me want more. Harder. Faster. We’ve always been passionate, but never this carnal with desire.

  “You’re wearing far too much clothing for my liking,” he growls. He puts his hands on the hem of my blouse, preparing to pull it over my head, when his phone rings. From the look of disappointment on his face, I realize he can’t let the call go to voicemail, so I unwrap myself from around him.

  He releases his hold on me, as he leans forward, resting his forehead against the wall. “Bloody hell,” he rumbles. He roughly pulls his phone from his pocket. “Edwards,” he barks at the caller. He bickers with the person on the other end, and then throws his phone against the nearby sofa.

  He runs his fingers through is hair. “Bollocks,” he mutters under his breath.

  “Problem?” I ask.

  “My secretary has committed me to having drinks with one of the senators from Massachusetts. It seems she’s also in Boston.” If the way he disdainfully spits the words hadn’t already told me how livid he is, the icy glint in his eyes would be a clear indicator.

  I straighten my disheveled clothes as I make my way to the sofa. “Do you have to go?”

  “She’s on the Senate’s committee on Armed Forces, and I’m in the middle of negotiations with the Army.” He hastily grabs his phone from the couch
. “I’m canceling. I told Mrs. Smythe that I was unavailable this evening, and I know that the Senator has no –”

  I hold my hand up. “Gavin, go,” I insist. “You flew here for work. I’m just an added bonus. You need to go. Do you think we can still meet for a late dinner? Maybe you can use it as an excuse to keep the meeting short.”

  “Eight thirty at the Top of the Hub,” he replies.

  “Wow, a proper date,” I tease. “I’ll see you at the bar there.” I stand behind him and gently push him toward the door. “Now go.”

  He turns to face me and gives me a kiss that reminds me just what I’ll be missing while he’s gone. “I’ll see you soon,” he says, handing me a spare keycard before walking out the door.

  The evening isn’t going exactly as planned, but we’ll still have dinner. We can pick up where we left off after that. For once, I’ve actually had some prep time before our dates. Every time I’ve been with Gavin, I’ve been completely haggard, dressed in someone else’s clothes, with finger-combed hair and no makeup. It’s nice to have a chance to look my best.

  I use every minute of my free time re-primping: carefully blow-drying, curling, and finding that perfect amount of product to keep my hair in place without my hair becoming crunchy. I even put on eye makeup, which has always been an adventure to me. It only takes me four tries to get that smoky look that the YouTube video makes look so easy. Before leaving the room, I stop in front of the mirror and give myself one last onceover. I have to say I look amazing. Judging by the stares I get as I walk through the lobby, either the back of my dress is tucked into my underwear or other people agree.

  Outside, the valet hails a cab, and I take the quick ride to the Prudential Center. After quickly scanning the lobby, I take the elevator to the fifty-second floor. According to the hostess, Gavin hasn’t checked in yet, so I walk to the bar and order a glass of cabernet. Rather than sit, I stand so I can take in the panoramic view. Between the cloudless sky and the floor-to-ceiling windows, I’m free to take in the spectacular pink, orange, and lavender hues of the fading sunset.

  “The view is stunning, but it has nothing on you.”

  I suddenly feel a strong hand at the small of my back and the brush of familiar lips on my neck. “You look positively lethal. I’m now regretting suggesting dinner. Shall we return to the hotel and see how long it takes me to get you out of that dress? If I were to wager, I’d say less than three seconds.”

  I turn to face him and waggle my finger. “Now, now. All good things come to those who wait. I’m looking forward to our date.”

  He guides me to the hostess stand. “Let’s order quickly,” he demands. “I only have another twelve hours with you, and the list of things I want to do to you is growing by the second.”

  The hostess seats us at a table by the window overlooking the bay. The sommelier brings us a bottle of Opus One, a wine I’ve always wanted to try but would never dream of spending the money on. When the server arrives, Gavin’s more than ready to order. I know I’m going to order the halibut, but I play coy and say I need more time, just to drive Gavin crazy. He shows me up by ordering for both of us. Surprisingly enough, he managed to pick exactly what I was going to order.

  I hand my menu to the server. “Touché. I guess that point goes to you.”

  “You should know better than to play games with me, Lily. I always win.”

  While we sit and talk, I catch him up on my days of playing bait. While I do this, I slip a foot out one of my dangerously high heels and gently run my foot along the inner part of Gavin’s thigh, smiling benignly across the table at him. Not blatantly enough that he knows I’m doing it on purpose—at first. As he shifts in his seat, I become more pointed with my actions.

  Gavin looks back at me cool as a cucumber. My foot exploration has discovered that he most certainly is excited, but you would never know it by looking at him.

  “What are you doing, Lily?”

  I shrug. “Nothing, Gavin. Nothing at all.”

  “If you keep this up, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and drag you out of here before the meals arrive. Hell, we might not make it out of the lift at this rate.”

  I bat my eyes with a look of angelic innocence as I continue to massage him with my foot.

  Suddenly, he stands and slides his chair around the table next to mine so my foot can no longer reach him.

  I take a sip of my wine, looking at him sideways over the lip of the glass. “You’re no fun.”

  “Oh, I’m plenty of fun,” he relies. “Just remember you were warned.” His arm nearest me disappears under the table, and I suddenly feel his fingers on my knee. He slowly glides his fingertips up my thigh until they reach my thong. He toys with the lacy edge, teasing me. His fingers follow the lace from my hip bone down, all the way back to my ass. Each time he passes the center, he gently grazes me, sending a jolt of sensation through me. Each second that this goes on, I become more and more sensitive. My body craves his touch.

  All the while, he rambles on about God only knows what. I don’t hear a thing. All I can do is feel what he’s doing to me. All my other senses are blocked. I try to look as calm as he does, but I’m not sure how convincing I am. Just when I think I’ve gotten myself under control, he slides his fingers under the fabric and glides them through my wetness.

  I let out a little moan of delight and shock.

  He clucks his tongue. “Now Lily, you can’t do that, or the game has to stop. You don’t want me to stop, do you?” His thumb massages my clit, and I feel an orgasm building. I don’t want him to stop but I can’t imagine how I’m going to do this without alerting the entire restaurant. “You’re going to have to try harder than that. You wouldn’t want to make a scene now would you?”

  I muster all the self-control I have trying not to throw my head back and scream in ecstasy. I subtly rock my pelvis to the rhythm of his thumb. My body craves release. Getting caught up in the sweet torture of anticipation, my breathing becomes erratic as my body starts to ride the building wave.

  Suddenly, he pulls his hand away. I feel my orgasm slipping, my body reeling at the loss of contact.

  “I told you. You’re going to have to try harder than that,” he scolds me. “Do you want me to continue?”

  I nod my head, knowing the words won’t come out.

  He points a finger at me, the finger I know was just inside me moments ago. “One last chance,” he says. “If you look like you’re about to explode again, I’ll have to stop, and you’ll have to wait until we get back to the hotel. Understand?”

  I nod again. I’d have agreed to anything he said at that point, as long as he returned to the matter at hand—his hand, to be precise.

  His fingers, still wet, slowly return to me. They toy with my thong, rebuilding the anticipation. At last, he pushes the fabric aside and runs his fingers between my lips. Up and down, up and down, several times. My clit is desperate for his touch, but he masterfully avoids it every time. I’m barely holding it together. I want to tear my clothes off and fuck him right there.

  After seven long laps around my sex, feeling every part of me but the one part I desperately want him to, he finally starts to circle it with his finger. Slow circles with such a gentle touch that I have to bite my lip so I don’t scream out, “Faster, dammit!” I try to keep my patience by rotating my hips to match his circles. He picks up the pace of his rotations, going just a little faster.

  I feel the orgasm mounting from deep within. I force my eyes open and try to look as though I’m listening to whatever he’s babbling on about. He circles faster and faster. My thighs clench around his hand, allowing me to push my clit into his finger, enhancing the sensation.

  He softly says my name, looking deeply into my eyes. He must sense I’m close. I don’t take my eyes off him as I grind myself against his finger. With a few more short rocks of my hips, I come hard. I muffle my scream by biting down on my lip so hard it bleeds, but I never lose eye contact.

  He pulls hi
s finger away and brings his hand back above the table. He continues to stare at me intensely as he sucks his finger clean.

  “I told you I’d win,” he says arrogantly.

  I take a long sip of water and say, “I’m not sure I lost, Gavin.”

  “Trust me, however good it felt, watching you was a million times more satisfying. I definitely won.”

  Perfectly timed, our meals arrive, but I can’t eat a thing. My earth-shattering orgasm hasn’t scratched my itch. It’s only opened the flood gates of desire. I push the fish around my plate with my fork and drink my wine, but I’m somewhere else. I’m back in our room, peeling his clothes away and taking him over and over until I’m finally satiated. Gavin’s always the one in control, but with my burning need for him growing with each passing second, there’s no room left for his control.

  I’ve never felt urges this brazen. Just thinking about the way the evening could play out causes a blush to creep across my face. I may be blushing, but I’m not embarrassed. Not one part of me is ashamed of the borderline indecent way in which I want him. I feel alive, and it’s delicious.

  “Lily, you have not heard a word I’ve said, have you?”

  I set down my fork and knife to the side of my plate. “Nope. You’ve no one to blame for that but you.”

  He chuckles as he cuts his steak. “Oh, my dear. You started it. I just finished it.”

  I take a sip of my wine. “Well, I’m not finished. I want more, and I want it now.”

  He swallows hard, probably not expecting my boldly direct response.

  I put my glass down and look him square in the eye. “I need your cock deep inside me, and I don’t think I can wait another moment. So, what’re you going to do about that?”