I want her.
I want to take her, as a man takes his woman, completely and utterly, with raw animal passion.
I have my place, just around the corner.
But, I shouldn't take her anywhere near my apartment, because then my inner animal will unleash itself, in spite of all my willpower and efforts.
I know the sense of power I am feeling.
It’s just a matter of timing, and opportunity, with Tinsley, now.
I’ve seen the way she looks at me.
I don’t dare take her to the Penthouse because nothing good can come of it.
She’s too young, too innocent.
Too vulnerable.
The daughter of my business partner.
I go through my internal checklist for all the reasons bedding Tinsley is wrong and come to a decision.
We won’t go to the Penthouse, although she insists that’s exactly where we are heading. Because if she is in my domain, even with my son, Evan, there, I'm not sure what I will or won't do.
“It's such a gorgeous day.,” I say somewhat unconvincingly.
My attempt is probably futile as she zips her jacket up.
“Let me wash this up a bit at that fountain; then we'll go for a walk,” I tell her as I move toward the pool of water.
“Noah.” She raises an eyebrow at me.
That look, that longing that need is there.
Right on her face.
Taunting me.
Begging me for it.
I stare at her long legs again.
Tinsley was always tall, but I never really noticed how her proportions had changed since our last meeting.
I guess I didn’t see a lot of things before.
There's something about her now that has sparked my interest entirely.
I dip my shirt into the water and wipe off some of the blood on my knee.
It’s just a scratch.
A mere flesh wound.
Nothing fatal.
I let Tinsley drag me by the hand, and during the whole fifteen-minute walk to my apartment, I struggle with my inner demons.
She’s like a raw steak thrown to a starving tiger, and, if I am not careful, I don’t think I can tame the beast that is me this time.
“Hi, Dad.” Evan barely acknowledges Tinsley as he slips out the door with a skateboard.
“Little shit,” I call after him. “We say ‘hello’ to guests!” I shout at Evan.
I watch as Evan gives us both the finger, and I return it.
“Not much of a traditional father?” she laughs at me.
“More of a relaxed parenting style, I guess,” I laugh.
My laugh feels lighter because Tinsley's presence relaxes me.
All thoughts of relaxation fly out the window when she removes her sweater entirely.
It’s September, Magda my housekeeper has turned off the air conditioner and opened all the windows and doors.
It's too hot for a sweater but breezy enough that Tinsley can comfortably stand in my apartment in her sports bra and shorts.
She presents quite the spectacle.
I love looking at her athletic, hard little body.
What I don't love is her leading me to the master washroom.
I have dark thoughts about showers and pushing her bare breasts, or even better, that magnificent ass, against the glass doors.
Even with my bed so close, I envision ripping off her clothes, and fucking her wildly, whispering in her ears, doing passionate things to her that make her laugh and scream and cum.
When she looks in the cabinets for the first aid kit, I barely have time to move my cock into a more natural position, to hide the rock it’s become, once again.
She does that to me.
This is ridiculous.
“This will sting,” she warns, holding the bottle of antibacterial lotion she found.
She rummages around and comes out of the cabinet with some gauze and wipes.
Tinsley looks up at me, her innocent doe eyes a contrast to the smile twisted wickedly on her lips as she motions for me to sit down.
“Are you enjoying this?” I smirk in response.
“You tell me,” she asks all innocent looks and a Cheshire cat grin on her face.
She wipes at the cuts on my knees with an alcohol swap.
I don't even wince. “Ouch.”
I look at her reaction.
She gets that I am joking with her.
Then, she continues to clean, softly stroking the gauze against my skin.
When she’s finished doing that, she daubs it with a dry cloth and then puts some ointment and a bandage on my knee.
“Was that satisfying?” I ask.
“Not even close.” She pouts, her lips pressed together.
God, what I wouldn't do to be able to shove my cock between those lips!
She bends down to pick up some stray gauze.
Seeing her on her knees, one hand resting on my inner thigh for balance, the other picking up the gauze, does something dark to my mind.
It goes all sorts of places, and I have to reel it in.
I must maintain proper control, after all.
I’m Noah Stone.
This is just my business partner’s daughter.
How can I be thinking what I am thinking?
Suddenly, I feel panicky and sit down on the toilet seat.
“Are you all right, Noah?” she asks.
“What are you thinking?” I ask her.
She looks up at me, a blush rising across her cheeks.
“I'm wondering how you could be so stupid and fall like that?” she says.
“You want to learn the real reason I fell?” I ask her.
“Hmm?” She rests her head against the arm on my thigh, and I swear I hear angels singing as I look down at her.
“I guess that you were staring at some pretty girl's tight ass,” she says.
“Bingo.”
She doesn't realize what she's doing.
She's torturing me, slowly, and without even knowing it.
I'd love to peel that innocence away, bit by bit.
What she does next is unexpected.
She straddles me so that I have to rest my hands on her waist to balance her there.
Then she’s dabbing at the cut on my forehead with the alcohol swab.
My hard-won control slips a bit.
I look at her, in her eyes.
Her mouth, slightly parted, is sensual.
Her light breathing whispers quietly in the room.
I can see the rise and fall of her breasts, the sports bra an enticing bait for my hungry inner tiger.
I think that I might just pin her to the floor and kiss her, make her understand what a real man is like.
Her being here is a huge mistake.
My careful control, developed over the years, is quickly fading.
So I talk.
“Did I ever tell you who Evan's mother is?” I ask her, taking a deep breath.
“No,” she says, squirming a bit for better balance on my lap.
She puts one arm around my neck for balance, drawing me closer, intent on cleaning up my forehead.
She's taking little, short breaths.
That's interesting.
“Elizabeth,” I begin to say.
I can’t tell whether it's a diversion to distract her, or something else, but I want to say it to someone.
Tinsley is the only person to whom I dare impart this secret.
“What?” Tinsley almost falls off my lap, and I grab her, keeping her steady on top of me.
“What are you talking about?” she says, almost yelling at me in her shock.
“Elizabeth came to me two years later, apologizing,” I tell her.
“She said she'd put Ava up for adoption,” I press my lips together.
“She and I…” I trail off.
Ava is my daughter, and Evan my son, by the woman who has brought me so much pain, and turmoil.
Ti
nsley knows all about Elizabeth,
Elizabeth is the woman I once loved, who ran away pregnant, carrying our first child.
“She and I started something up again. Though we were careful, she ended up pregnant, again, and she stayed, for a while, that time. But then she left me. She disappeared one afternoon while Evan was sleeping and told his nanny she was going to meet a friend for coffee,” I say.
“The next time I heard from her was when her attorney served some papers on me, giving me custody of Evan,” I said.
“Oh, Noah…” Tinsley cries.
I can tell from her face that she’s truly feeling sorrow for me and Evan.
I can feel her heart breaking for me.
“I knew I shouldn't have trusted Lizzie, but she knew I couldn’t truly be with her, I guess. Marriage wasn't for me at that point. I didn't think it was, ever, to be honest,” I tell Tinsley.
“And now?” Tinsley asks, still firmly rooted in my lap.
She’s asking about Olivia.
My wife.
She’s heard the rumors, I tell myself.
“Olivia and I are living apart Tinsley. What do you think?” I say.
My wife is a stranger to me.
Tinsley looks uncomfortable for a second, her hands resting on my chest, looking towards nothing for a moment, before looking up at me.
Tinsley's hazel eyes flash with jealousy.
“Did you ever love Elizabeth? I mean, that all-encompassing, never another sort of love?”
Tinsley's hair is messy and out of place.
It's written all over Tinsley's face, that the possibility I may have truly loved Elizabeth makes her distraught.
I lean forward to brush a piece of hair out of her face, “No.”
She swallows hard, nodding and pressing those delicious lips together again.
Our lips inch closer together, even though I know I am quickly losing the last of my control over what may happen.
Next, the delicious moment of anticipation, the slight shiver before our lips meet urges me closer to kiss her.
“Dad! Something is wrong with my system again!” Evan whines from the bedroom doorway.
How the hell is he back already?
Didn’t he leave?
Tinsley is up, out of my lap, going from my arms, and I am running out of the bathroom, and then pushing Evan out my bedroom door.
I silently curse and thank Evan for his unexpected salvation to my problem.
I know that I had almost made a fatal error.
That was too close.
Far too close.
If I had kissed Tinsley, there's no telling where that would have gone.
Obviously, it led to a dangerous place, and that was my bed.
And Evan was still home!
I'm not only the devil; I'm a terrible father, I say as I berate myself internally.
Escorting Evan to the media room, we figure out his little problem.
The modem needed rebooting.
Like he didn’t know that!
We get it working again, and he’s soon engrossed in the latest video carnage of the month.
I walk back to my bedroom, wondering what happened to Tinsley.
I suddenly have the strong urge to urinate, so I go into the bath to take care of business.
The notion of rubbing one out vaguely occurs, but, instead, I wash my face with cold water.
I put myself together, and then wander over to the kitchen.
I scrounge up a couple of bottles of water for Tinsley and me.
When I find Tinsley again, she's on her knees in front of the flat screen, next to Evan.
Evan seems oblivious to the gorgeous young woman beside him, focused on beating her at some useless video game.
There is Tinsley, on her knees on a forty-thousand-dollar rug.
All I can desire is Tinsley getting on her knees in front of me, her mouth opening as she grasps me and slides her lips over me, guiding me deep into her throat.
I step away from the room, fighting for control.
I regain my composure.
I am Noah Stone, again.
My mind must stay focused on the long game.
The real prize.
Ultimately, whatever I am feeling for Tinsley, there must be no acting on those feelings.
Not now.
Not ever.
I walk back into the media room.
They hadn’t noticed me the first time, I suppose.
“I got you water,” I say.
For a moment I have visions of Tinsley on her knees, pouring water all over her body, with that come-hither expression of hers.
I force it deep down into the dark recesses of my mind.
She thanks me, pausing the game to take a long drink, her breasts heaving as she drinks half the bottle at a gulp.
“Thanks!” she says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “I needed that,” she smiles at me.
Her boobs moving into Evan’s field of vision ensures that he is momentarily distracted from his game.
He quickly averts his eyes, however, and Tinsley doesn't see him ogling her, or has the good manners to ignore his adolescent behavior.
“You want to play again?” she smiles.
Evan nods stupidly.
Poor kid.
I let Evan bug her for a while as they play whatever car game has his desire this week.
Soon enough, he’ll be chasing skirt.
I just can’t wait for that, I tell myself sardonically.
“You know my dad has one of these.” Evan tells Tinsley, referring to the car he’s racing.
Is he trying to flirt with her?
“I know.” Tinsley smiles. “But my Porsche could take this Ferrari any day,” She sings.
“That Porsche is a work of art.” I reply to Tinsley.
Her 911 Targa is a GTS model, and a real thing of beauty.
Myself I wouldn’t have gone with the blue colour she selected, but it suits her.
“You promise you would let me drive it.” I remind her.
“And you will.” Tinsley looks back at me with a seductive look on her face.
Is she actually being seductive?
Or is it just me?
When Tinsley announces that she has to leave, I see her out.
We stroll through the Penthouse, down the polished, curving staircase, and our arms brush.
I observe for the flush in her cheeks again.
We both stand in my mirrored hallway, and I realize that her birthday is coming up.
Trying to lighten the mood, I ask about it.
“Nineteen, right?” I say. “You’re getting old, kiddo,” I laugh.
She sticks out her perfect tongue at me, then hugs me tight.
“Nineteen,” she sighs.
“At least you remembered. My stupid parents always forget,” she confesses.
She shakes her head.
“They want me to meet a stupid son of his business partner, Connor Bradford? Do you know him?” she asks.
My hackles are up.
Connor is Jameson Bradford’s son and a real idiot.
I wouldn’t even give that asshole the time of day if it weren’t for his father.
“He's the son of your dad's competition,” I say.
I try not to add anything that might give away my contempt for the little bastard.
Thinking about it, though, I find it odd.
Why would Jameson want Connor and Tinsley to meet?
What was Tinsley’s family cooking up with that thieving son of a bitch?
Nothing good could come of any union…
I stop myself, before I jump to the wrong conclusion, no matter how obvious it seems to me right then.
I need more intelligence before I let my fears grab hold.
“You find that weird too? Right?” Tinsley has always been perceptive.
She could tell I tensed up regarding Connor.
“Well, it's a little strange,” I tell her, n
oncommittally.
“Since I was sixteen, I’ve not been allowed to date, and any guy they’ve ever suggested was just boring. Now, they're all interested in introducing me to some hot shot twenty-two-year-old,” she says, scowling.
I notice she is still hugging me.
I disengage from her, gently, and continue our walk.
My mind is getting dark again, only this time it’s not with fantasies of fucking her mindless in my bed.
“It does seem strange,” I allow, once more, before I lean against the door.
My inner voice is crying out.
Stay! It’s shouting in my mind.
I crave that kiss I lost.
Not that kissing is likely to happen now.
“Noah…” Tinsley looks up from her running shoes, holding her jacket.
“What do you make of this?” she says.
That deer in the headlights look is back again.
“You want honesty?” I ask her, knowing she will not like the answer.
“Honesty,” she repeats.
“Well, what do you expect I will say?” I ask.
“I believe… you will tell me something I don't want to hear,” she whispers.
She presses her lips together, bracing herself for what I'm about to tell her.
Well, there it is.
She wants to know the conclusion my mind has already reached.
“Connor Bradford is Julian Bradford's son, and he would be the ideal husband for you,” I tell her, bluntly.
It’s out now, in the open.
Tinsley's expression changes.
She seems suddenly sad.
I try to explain further.
“It would be good business to put a merger forward between Whittaker Energy and Bradford Energy. There’s been a lot of friction between the two companies over the years. I don’t need to tell you that, right?” I say.
Tinsley nods, sadly.
“A merger would be beneficial for both companies, and not just in silencing the family feuds. Wall Street would love it. Hell, even I would consider reinvesting and positioning my assets for a piece of that…” I trail off.
Julian is a real piece of work, I think.
From my experience managing his investments, he is a man that seizes every opportunity, regardless of cost or harm he inflicts upon others.
Tinsley’s father wouldn't hesitate to use his daughter for business interests.
“You expect my father would do that?” Tinsley asks, her voice shaking.
I want to take her hands in mine, hold her.
I want to calm her fears, to take her away from all this.
Torrid Page 2