by CC MacKenzie
Through spiky lashes, she blinked up into his face.
"Okay. We're both lucky."
Now she shifted to plaster herself against him. Then she dropped her head to his chest and let the water pound them.
Steam rose as she lifted her head. He found her mouth, shifted to let narrowed eyes face at her face.
"Let's get very lucky together."
He dipped his head and kissed her. A soft kiss, tender and filled with love as they both sank into the other.
His fingers brushed through curls gone sleek. He moved them both further under the pounding spray and his hands were creamy with soap. Those hands cupped her breasts, cupped them while his mouth spoke against hers. "I love these. I love you, everything about you."
She hummed her response, pleasure, against his mouth and felt it curve in a smile.
Slowly, slowly, her hands slid up that wonderful back, smooth skin over taut muscle, to hook her arms around his neck. She shivered when his hands slid lower between her legs.
She opened wide to him, trusting him to give her everything she needed. When gentle fingers entered her the first time, her breath caught. The little cry that escaped from her throat thrilled him. Now she trembled, her fingernails digging into his shoulders to anchor her when he used slick fingers to taunt, to tease, to torture her until her shocked climax when he dipped two inside her. Now her cries of his name were sobs, her shivers turned to shakes as her body clamped down hard. The way she surrendered and gave herself, all of her, to him, evoked a flame that burned him beyond anything he'd experienced before. All his worries, anxieties about her deepest feelings for him simply drowned in his love for her.
Now he spun her around until she faced the wall.
He lifted her hand for her to brace herself.
A gentle hand between her shoulder blades positioned her until she was bent from the waist, her bare bottom presented at just the right angle for him. Now his arm slid around her tiny waist to hold her steady.
"You will take me like this," he whispered into her ear. "All of me."
He took her moan of his name and the way she pressed her backside into his groin as complaisance.
One hand gripped her hip as he fought to control the beast that roared to take her hard and fast. Taking great care, he slid inch by slow inch inside her.
Steam rose, like damp smoke, around them.
She turned her head to watch him over her shoulder.
"Faster."
He did as she asked. This was more than just taking his pleasure from a tight body. Even more than love. They needed this, he realized. They were giving each other the gift of the ultimate intimacy.
As her breath hitched and hitched again, she tried to push back against him. He held her firm. He was a slave to her and he took everything she freely gave. He took the love, took the pleasure, took the intimacy. And took the ultimate orgasm.
"Well, that was the perfect start to the day. Shower sex," she said.
"We might make it our morning ritual."
Anastacia flashed him a naughty grin. Hands nimble, she snapped on a scrap of flesh colored silk that was a bra that matched her low rise panties. She sat at the dressing table and did some quick and complicated thing with her hair. A plait, he realized as she tied the end and flicked it behind her shoulder. She stepped into heels so high she'd probably end up with vertigo. Then she slipped a little number in peach silk over her head. A loose dress that hung from her narrow shoulders and fell to two inches above the knees. Fabulous cut.
"Who designed the dress?"
Her eye roll made him smile.
"Danni's favourite, VB, same with the heels."
"Looks good."
"It's all in the cut, I'm told."
She shifted to walk past him, and he stepped into her personal space, placed a soft kiss on her soft mouth.
"I have something for you."
Before she could speak, he'd taken her left hand and slid his ring on her finger.
"The next time we fight, I do not want you to take it off."
The ring swam as she stared at it with a heart filled with love.
"Okay."
She blinked rapidly as she looked up into his wonderful face. Saw the love.
They held hands as they strolled out the door.
As they waited for the elevator, he studied the joy in her face as she kept looking at her ring and told himself he was a lucky bastard.
"You are the only female I know who doesn't get excited about clothes shopping."
She waited until the elevator door opened to respond, "Wrong," she shot back.
He turned to her. "Who?"
"Bronte. Hates clothes shopping more than I do."
He tugged her into the elevator, backed her against the wall as the door pinged shut and took her smart, smiling mouth with his. The kiss was hot and hard.
He shifted when she nipped his waist.
"No elevator sex first thing in the morning."
"Only in the evening?"
Her eyes lifted to linger on what she knew was a hidden camera.
"Too many eyes in the ceiling.
He nodded.
"Perhaps another time, another place."
"You'd need to be fast on the draw, pal."
He grinned down at her, the door pinged as a disembodied voice said, "Ground floor."
The door opened.
"Is that a challenge," he said in a silky voice.
Her eyes drifted over his shoulder and he watched a blush rise into her fabulous cheekbones.
"Morning, Linda," she said in a cheery voice.
"Morning to you two, too. Please don't let me interrupt."
Olivier just laughed at the heat scorching Anastacia's cheeks, then he bent to kiss her mouth before waving farewell to both women and heading for the door.
Linda eyed him as he jogged out the door. "Where's he off to in such a hurry?"
"Conditioning training."
"Then I'd say it's paying off."
Linda led the way to a sitting area where coffee and pastries were set up.
She poured two cups of coffee, handed one to Anastacia.
"I gather you two have sorted your differences."
She didn't respond until they were sitting on plush crushed velvet sofas, and then she wiggled the hand with the ring on her finger.
"Seems that way."
"I'm proud of you," Linda said.
Anastacia blinked.
"Thank you, I think. What did I do to deserve that?"
"You held firm to your values and beliefs. Didn't let Jake or Olivier push you into doing something you didn't want to do."
"I love him."
"Yes, but that love didn't blind you to listen to your instincts, your own needs."
Anastacia thought about that statement as she sipped her coffee.
"Yes, but we hurt each other. No one told me loving someone would be this hard."
Linda offered her a plate of Oreos.
"Yeah, well no one ever said love was easy. If it was easy we'd all be doing it."
Anastacia took a deep breath.
"So, everything on schedule for next week?"
"Yep. Going like clockwork. After this week, it'll be a breeze."
"Don't hex it," begged Anastacia.
"And then we're on to Rome, the Eternal City," Linda reminded her.
The mere thought of Rome made Anastacia's heart sink. Because in Rome lived the biggest challenge of all, Olivier's mother and sisters. Would they like her? Would she like them? Did it really matter?
"What's put that look on your face?"
"Just thinking of meeting Olivier's family. That'll be a challenge."
"Rubbish," said Linda in her usual bracing tone. "They'll adore you. What's not to love?"
Anastacia couldn't help but grin.
The hell of it was Linda was right.
Oliver loved her and she loved him.
What on earth could possibly go wrong?
; Epilogue
Ten days later, Anastacia was back in her London office, and beyond thrilled to be home and back in charge of her life. She checked the time, five-thirty, on her new watch, a gift from Olivier. It wasn't a particularly expensive timepiece, but she'd had her eye on it for months. A Daniel Wellington classic in rose gold with a brown leather strap. Olivier had also bought her a rose gold fine bracelet to go with it. Time for her to head home to her man.
Just as she logged off her computer, and pushed away from her desk, Linda poked her head around the door.
“I've a Natalia Loewe here, gotta minute?"
The clutch in Anastacia's belly went tight.
"What does she want?"
"Says it's personal. Do you want me to..."
"No. Send her in. Then go home. I'll lock up."
Linda blinked.
"An early night? You sure?"
"Certain. See you tomorrow, eight-thirty conference call with Rome."
Linda frowned at Anastacia's too chirpy tone. "I can wait if you like."
"Nah. Go home. Send her in."
After everything Olivier had told her about Natalia, Anastacia wasn't exactly surprised to hear from her.
She'd see what the woman wanted and move on.
If she could deal with online trolls and physical attacks, she could deal with a slutty ex-girlfriend. And she'd bet Ms. Loewe wouldn't be the last ex-girlfriend she'd come across either.
Riding a cloud of Opium scent, Natalia Loewe swept into Anastacia's office as if she owned the place, and she didn't look friendly.
Her long-legged stride was more of a hip-swinging strut. Her black bodycon dress hugged every single curve. Her heels matched the hot red of her lipstick. Her hair a shiny ash-blonde curtain that fell down her back. The huge bag hooked over her arm was red, too. Both wrists weighed down with heavy gold bracelets that jangled with every step.
Sharp blue eyes took in the floor to ceiling windows, the view of Tower Bridge and The Shard beyond. And the way Anastacia sat quite comfortably behind the big desk and the space. The red lips thinned.
Anastacia didn't stand or even offer her hand in welcome.
She hadn't invited the woman into her office, into her life, so she'd be damned if she was going to be polite.
"So this is where it all happens?" Natalia drawled in a tone that made Anastacia's hand itch to slap her.
"What do you want?"
Natalia's dark brows flew into her hairline.
"Straight to the point, I like that." Her smile flashed, all white teeth, like a great white shark. And as those blue eyes glittered with sheer malice, Anastacia readied herself. "I thought it was time we met. After all, if we're going to share Olivier's life, we might as well be friends. No point in making a drama out of a little business proposition."
"You've lost me."
Now the eyes went feral.
She pouted.
"Oh, I do hope I haven't spoken out of turn. Didn't Olivier tell you we're working together?"
Olivier hadn't, but then Anastacia didn't believe a single word coming out of that lying mouth. She smiled. "Why don't you fill me in."
Surprise flashed, just for a second, in Natalia's eyes, then as she recognized someone who was calling her bluff they narrowed into slits. She dug into her bag and pulled out a large brown envelope and tossed it onto Anastacia's desk.
Anastacia ignored it.
Whatever was in it, she wasn't interested.
"Olivier has agreed to help me find a property to invest in. We discussed it the other day at lunch. He's being very attentive, very helpful."
Knowing full well that Olivier was not in the slightest bit interested in the London property market, Anastacia shrugged. "Good luck with that. What I don't understand is what it has to do with me."
"He seems to think you won't be happy if he helps me."
Anastacia laughed. "Seriously? Do I look like Olivier's keeper?"
Natalia frowned. "So you don't mind if Olivier and I spend time together?"
Anastacia leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs and bounced her foot.
Her hand reached for her gold pen and she tap, tap, tapped the glass table.
The movement brought Natalia's eyes to the rock on Anastacia's left hand. And those blue eyes went wide.
"Listen up, sister. You go anywhere near Olivier and I'll cut your black heart out with a rusty knife."
Natalia took a step back.
Her eyes went wide with what looked like fear, but Anastacia knew it was just an act.
"Are you threatening me?"
"Nope. I'm making you a firm promise. Now get your ass out of my office."
"I'm not going anywhere until I get what I want."
"And what's that?"
"I want you out of his life and Olivier back where he belongs, with me."
With a little trilling laugh, Natalia stepped forward, grabbed the envelope and emptied half a dozen grainy photographs of what looked like her and Olivier naked in what could only be described as compromising positions.
Anastacia shrugged, told herself not to throw up, and studied a photograph as if it wasn't a big deal.
"That certainly looks like his ass. It's a lot more toned and tight these days," she said.
Seeing the man she loved having sex with another woman might cause her stomach to fall at her feet, but Anastacia wasn't going to show weakness in front of this bitch. A single glance had told her the pictures weren't recent. And she'd put good money on it Olivier knew nothing about them.
"If you don't walk away from him, I'll post these all over the internet."
"Post away. See what happens."
Natalia's smile was one of triumph.
"You love him. Which means you'll never, ever risk Olivier becoming a laughing stock. Can you imagine the chants the crowd would make on the soccer pitch every week about the size of his cock? I'm prepared to negotiate. I'll give you the photos and the memory stick, for a price."
It seemed Natalia was seriously delusional and not above a little blackmail.
"I'm giving you nothing. You do realize that what you're doing is called revenge porn? If you publish them online you will commit a criminal act, an act that guarantees jail time."
"Maybe I'm prepared to take the risk."
"Maybe you're just plain foolish."
Anastacia kept her eyes on Natalia's and pressed the button under her desk.
Ten.
Nine.
Eight.
Seven.
Six.
Sean Kennedy and Pete charged into the room.
The expression on Natalia's face was priceless, as was her screech of shock.
"Got every single word, Ana," Sean said. Then he turned to look at a white-faced Natalia Loewe who was struggling to release herself from Pete's firm grip on her wrist. "You're a piece of work."
"You can't do this to me. You can't tape or record me without my permission."
"Actually I can. I didn't invite you into my office. You came of your own free will. It's not my fault if you're too stupid to notice the security cameras."
It was then that Natalia really lost it and her rant lasted until Pete and another member of Sean's security team hustled her out of the office.
"You okay?" Sean stood in front of Anastacia's desk, his eyes searching her ashen face. God, she felt sick to her stomach. But she noticed he didn't look too wonderful himself. His face was pale and although his facial injuries had healed, she knew his ribs were still troubling him. He'd come back to work too soon, but there was no talking to the man. He was as stubborn as she was herself.
Anastacia slid the photographs into the envelope, handed them to Sean.
"You know what to do with these?"
"Yup. She's made her bed, I'm assuming you're gonna let her lie in it?"
The woman had tried to cause serious harm to Olivier and Anastacia had had enough of people using her to get to him. She wasn't going to stand for either of them being t
he victim of blackmail or anything else. From now on she was going to fight. And if need be, fight dirty.
"Too true. I want her charged, Sean. I want the book thrown at her."
No one messed with her man and got away with it. No one.
"Okay, the police will want to take a statement."
"No problem."
As Anastacia simply held her head in her hands, Sean moved towards the door, then he turned back to look at her.
"Ana?" She took a very deep breath and lifted her head, saw the pride in his eyes. "You're doing the right thing. It's a pleasure working with you."
When she said nothing, she couldn't because her throat had closed and the room was spinning, he nodded once and left.
And that's when Anastacia Morgan broke.
Maria Rucker stepped out of the elevator and headed for the double glass doors engraved with Ferranti Communications. She ran a hand down her fitted suit, a cute little number by Armani. It was always best to dress to impress. Anastacia had been back from Paris for a number of days and hadn't been in touch. Her husband was becoming quiet and introspective and worried. Always a sign that he was fretting over his eldest daughter. And since his wife was a woman who put his happiness before her own, she'd decided to beard the Lioness in her den and bring her kicking and screaming (if need be) into the bosom of her family.
As far as Maria Rucker was concerned, failure was not an option.
At first glance it appeared the office was empty since the receptionist's desk was unoccupied. She pushed the door, found it unlocked, and stepped through. The space was sleek, polished and modern. A tall clear glass vase held a huge display of fresh flowers, the scent met with her approval. She was just about to call out, when she heard the soft sound of a woman weeping. Frowning, she made her way towards an office with the door partly open and found Anastacia sitting at an impressive desk with her head in her hands.
Maria didn't think twice.
Within seconds, she was around the desk and holding her husband's daughter in her arms.
"Oh, God. I'm so sorry, Maria. I'm just having a moment," Anastacia sniffed and swiped her fingers over her cheeks. She held herself stiff as a board.