“It’s fine,” he responded without looking at his phone. He was curt with his response sheltering the screen, as if he feared that she might read over his shoulder, or that someone else might. Finally he relented.
“Forgive me, Regan, I think I will take this,” Tyler pardoned himself and stepped away from the ballroom.
Regan feared she had lost her chance to get Tyler to communicate. He was preoccupied when he returned to the ballroom barely able to give Regan the attention she deserved. Tyler failed to follow the conversation several times and refused to answer when Regan asked if anything was wrong.
“I give up,” she told him, crushed by her failure to make this night go as she hoped. “Maybe we should just go?” she suggested in a crisp, cold voice. “Your attention has been obviously elsewhere and you aren’t great company.”
“I was listening to the speeches.”
“They ended ten minutes ago, Ty,” Regan argued. “You are ignoring the music, ignoring me and you’re not working the crowd anymore either. It’s been a long day. Just take me home.”
“No, you’re right,” he recognized her exasperation and finally turned his full attention on Regan. “Come dance with me again.” He wiggled his eyebrows and pulled her close. “It would be a crime to waste that dress.”
Now, that was more like it.
Chapter Eleven
Tyler
Regan was just too damn alluring in that dress for him to accept that he couldn’t have her if he wanted her.
He was an idiot. He should have told her years ago. He should have told everyone. Despite the tongue-lashing he was silently giving himself, Tyler was certainly no fool. “The professor” to his friends, he was generally serious and professional. He had the smarts necessary to obtain both an MBA and a law degree, and he was now acting CEO of LHRE and on hiatus from one of the fastest growing tech companies in the country. He kept his cool in general, but again and again he behaved like an idiot around Regan.
Since that damn frog almost thirty years ago, he had loved no one but Regan. Sometimes they made it work together, like in high school, but most times not. His feelings were unchanged, but something always stopped him from declaring his love and asking her to do the same. This time it was something insurmountable.
And yet Tyler couldn’t stay away. He was the proverbial moth to the flame, flirting with disaster every time he flirted with her. He had promised to stay away, to keep her safe, but the attraction was undeniable. Yep, prize idiot.
Returning to the ballroom after the latest threats, Tyler briefly considered sharing the conversation, coming clean with Regan and perhaps moving their relationship forward. He was at a fork in the road but remained silent. Tyler knew he was on the wrong path but couldn’t summon the will to fix it. Not only were his problems unsolvable, but she was involved with Brandon. Tyler felt hopeless.
He was preoccupied just as Regan accused, but Tyler tried to give Regan the attention she deserved. He failed miserably until Regan suggested they just leave. That got his attention. Who knew when he would hold her in his arms again?
“Come dance with me again. It would be a crime to waste that dress.”
Encircling Regan in his arms, his body responded to her nearness even as his mind worried over the earlier texts. He was unaware of his hand stroking her back, fingers lightly skimming over her bare skin. He wasn’t thinking clearly when he pulled her close or when he dropped kisses on her hair. He wasn’t paying attention, just acting on instinct. Regan was responding, her breath growing uneven, her hands clinging to his shoulders.
Tyler reflexively pulled her closer, allowing his hand to slip lower on her waist and pull her tight against him. She tilted her head up and Tyler lowered his mouth to hers. He wasn’t a complete idiot, he remembered that they were on a public dance floor, but he sampled a small taste of her sweet lips, coaxing them to respond, to open under his and allow him to explore her honeyed mouth. His left hand joined his right, low around her body, closing what small gap was left between them, the bulge growing between them leaving her in no doubt of his desire.
Tyler, nearly 36 years old, had been keeping his distance from Regan for two decades. In this moment of weakness and preoccupation, he stopped fighting and just tasted her, felt her, breathed in the essence of Regan. He allowed the promise of her to tease his senses, and kissed her again. It might be the last chance he ever had, he told himself, justifying his actions.
Less circumspect as she responded, Tyler gripped Regan’s neck lightly in his large hand, holding her head still as he plundered her mouth. His hard body, all muscle, engulfed her small one as he felt lust pulsing between them.
A small moan from Regan brought him back to his senses with a jolt. The dance ended, Tyler released Regan, and after dropping a quick kiss on her rosy mouth, he placed one hand on the small of her back protectively and guided her off the floor.
“Let’s get out of here,” Regan suggested before he could communicate a similar desire. She picked up her miniature jeweled handbag, looped her arm though his and rested her head on his shoulder. “My feet are killing me.” They shared a laugh at the poor excuse for their rapid exit.
Still in a fog of external problems and internal desire, Tyler followed with alacrity and soon they were seated in his Tesla moving through the inky darkness of the cloud-covered night.
“So now what? You want to come to my place or go to yours?” Regan asked, straightforward as always. Her hand reached across the console to slide over his muscular thigh, massaging higher with each stroke.
Tyler’s erection was painful but his conscience kicked back in. What was he thinking? Had she had too much to drink? His pulse raced with the possibility of the situation, but so did his mind. “Regan, you’ve been drinking. Remember, we are working together now. And there is Brandon to consider.”
“I had a couple glasses of champagne, I am fully aware we work together, and Brandon isn’t here, Tyler, you are. I know what I am doing. My relationship with Brandon is my issue.”
“You made it my issue when you hired me so you could marry him.”
“I hired you so I could explore a relationship with him, Tyler. We have no commitments to each other. I appreciate your concern, but let it go. Let’s see where this takes us. Stop fighting me. Stop fighting yourself.”
Tyler remained silent, battling his desire with his conscience, wanting to do the right thing, but unsure at the moment just what that was.
“At least come back and have a drink with me,” she offered. “It doesn’t need to be anything more.”
"Ummm," Tyler stalled, his brain clamoring for something reasonable to say. “I don’t know how to read you anymore, Ree. This could be a very bad idea. You could get hurt.”
Tyler thought she would take him at face value since he was making it about her, not him. He needed to do something before he started something she would demand to be finished.
“What are you talking about, Tyler? What are we talking about? You have known me my whole life, and we have been playing cat and mouse pretty much that entire time. You are worried that I could get hurt? Don’t you know how many times you have broken my heart?”
Regan’s voice rose unsteadily, choked with emotion. She took two deep breaths, then in a soft, resigned voice she continued. “Either you are interested or you are not. I believe you are and I am tired of this game. I thought tonight that you were finally putting your cards on the table. Are you telling me I was wrong?”
“Yes, well no.” Tyler fumbled, “Jeez, I sound like an imbecile. I was distracted, Ree. I let my guard down.”
“You let your guard down? Do you feel like you have to ward me off? I am completely confused, Ty. Let me make this simple for you. Ever since I have known you, and certainly since that promise we made in high school, I believed we would end up together. Now, almost two decades have passed, decades of you running hot, then cold, then hot, then cold. So I am asking, once and for all, what do you want from me, Ty
ler Winthrop?”
Tyler hesitated too long. He recognized the moment that Regan gave up on him.
“Do you even know? Fine, whatever,” she spat, “Come up for a drink or don’t. I don’t care anymore.”
“It’s complicated Regan. You know how much I care about you, but you are CEO of Lyons Howe, responsible for the fates of hundreds of people, not to mention the support of your family. You testify before congress, you are seen about town with a senator. Shit, Ree, I work for you now. You are an important woman.”
“What the hell does that have to do with us, Ty? You are a hot-shot lawyer and now a CEO. What does any of this have to do with us? Either you love me or you don’t. Do you? Do you love me?”
“Of course I love you, Regan.”
“Not like that! Not like a sister, or the sister of your best friend. Do you want to spend your life with me? Do you hunger for me? Because if you don’t, or if you are not sure, I am done.” Regan pulled her body close to the door, her arms crossed. Her body language communicated her frustration and increased his.
What did he want? Tyler knew the answer. He wanted her, but he wanted her safe too, and he hadn’t yet figured out how to accomplish both.
“I just need some time to work a few things out, Regan.” They were pulled up in front of her high-rise, the doorman approaching to open her door.
In that split second, Tyler risked everything. “You, Regan. I want you.”
“Park it,” Tyler commanded the fellow, getting out and taking Regan’s hand in his steely fingers. “Let’s go inside. I think I might need that drink.”
Tyler followed her down the corridor to the elevator, admiring her long legs in the tall heels. She had removed her coat and he enjoyed the view of a lot of slender thigh through her sheer dress. He watched her short hair swing softly and remembered watching her walk the halls in high school. He couldn’t say no anymore. He didn’t want to try.
They each stood looking forward on the long ride up. Tyler didn’t dare touch her or he knew he would combust.
“So, they haven’t finished the hotel yet?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “You moved in anyway?”
“I couldn’t resist. I know I have to sell it eventually but while they complete the hotel, the penthouse is mine.”
“You’ve done a beautiful job with this project, Ree. The retail is all high-end, the hotel luxurious and the condos are rumored to be over the top.”
“They are. Wait until you see my place.”
They reached the top floor of the 60-story building in what felt like a flash. The quiet doors whooshed open on an enormous foyer with no furniture in it, the inlaid marble floor set off to perfection in the empty space.
“It’s too big to bother furnishing, since it’s temporary,” Regan explained as she led the way to the living room, dropping her coat on one of the two oversized chairs dwarfed by the open space. “Scotch?”
“Please,” Tyler responded, walking around the enormous room inquisitively. “Just how big is this again?”
“You should know, Ty, LHRE is developing the property.”
“I know the half floor condos, but not this one.”
“Just over 70,000 square feet,” Regan announced, watching his face for reaction. His jaw dropped. “See why I had to move in? I’ll never live like this again.”
Laughing with her at the absurdity of it, Tyler asked about the outdoor space – 11,000 square feet – and the bedrooms – seven, not including the guest suite that held three more.
“Who will buy something like this, Regan? I know you did your research but seriously…”
“Someone foreign with too much money and possibly a large number of wives. They will run their business out of it. After all, there is a full office, secure internet, and a car and driver. Someone will have everything they need.”
“I have a nice place, but you could put my condo in one tiny corner of this place. I am impressed, Madame.”
“Don’t be, Ty,” she said handing him his drink. “The company owns it, not me. I am still just me.”
“Are you, Regan? Are you still just you? You jet between here and Washington, you run a multi-billion dollar company, you are plastered on the covers of magazines. You date a senator. A rich, handsome senator.”
“You are rich and handsome, Tyler. You run a multi-billion dollar company, not me. And your face was on the cover of ‘Inc.’ just last week.”
“So what are you saying?”
“I would think it was obvious, Tyler. We are a good fit. We have always been a good fit.”
Tyler paced the long living room, looking out the dark windows at the city far below. He sipped his drink, quiet and pensive, stopping in the far corner of the room before returning to stand in front of Regan.
“If we start something, Regan Howe, there is no going back. I am in this for the long haul or I am out of here. No more Brandon. You break that off. You understand? You will be all mine, or not mine at all.”
“I understand,” Regan nodded, reaching over and taking the scotch from his hand to place it under the chair, safely out of the way. “Ty, I have always been yours.”
It was all the invitation Tyler needed. He pulled Regan hard against his body, wrapped his arms tightly around her and tasted her mouth like a starving man finally offered his favorite dish.
Taking his large hand in her small one, Regan led the way down the long corridor to the master bedroom, a huge space with windows on two sides and a bed standing alone, insignificant in the room around it. A table lamp sat on the floor beside the bed and Regan bent to turn it on. The sight of her firmly curved backside, framed by the corseted dress furthered the lust raging through Tyler’s veins. Taking her in his arms, he fell back upon the bed, gripping her lightly to pull her on down top of him.
Fine strands of hair fell forward to cover Regan’s face. Tyler raised his hands to slide them back gently and Regan rested one cheek in his large palm, turning to place a kiss in it. Her mouth was moist, hot and inviting. Tyler rolled them over in the engulfing bedding and kissed her with twenty years of pent up desire, trying to compensate in one kiss for years of frustration and denial.
“I want to savor this, Ree. I want to take it slow. We have waited too long not to,” he told her in a voice roughened by lust. “I want to try to take it slow.”
Regan nodded her agreement, untying the bow tie from around Tyler’s neck and gently undoing the top studs of his shirt. She began planting small gentle kisses on the smattering of dark hair, kissing his neck and jaw as her fingers opened his shirt. Finally, she lifted her head to claim his mouth.
Tyler took control, returning her kiss enthusiastically, his mouth seeking the warm heat of hers with his tongue. His hands worshipped her body from thigh to shoulder, exploring every delectable inch, lingering over her hip and again over her breast, feeling her nipple pebble under his touch.
Gasping for air, he pulled away, watching as the dark crescents of her lashes lifted to reveal the desire in her turquoise eyes.
“We will never go slow at this rate,” he laughed in a low voice.
“Maybe we should get this first round over with, then we can go slow the next round.”
“Rounds? Are we in a prize fight, Regan?”
“That remains to be seen, Champ,” she teased.
“I forgot my boxing gloves, and – how embarrassing – a condom. Do we need a condom?” he asked, pink tingeing his high cheekbones as a dimple made a brief appearance with his awkward smile.
“Not embarrassing, nice to know you didn’t have other plans.” Regan reassured him.”
“I never have other plans Regan, not for ages. How could I want anyone but you?”
“Well, I am on the pill, so if you are safe, I am too.”
“Well, thank God for that,” Tyler told her, dropping his weight down upon her again and kissing her eyes, her cheeks, her jaw and sliding his tongue down her neck to nestle in her cleavage, just above the edge of that tempta
tion she called a dress.
“How do I get you out of this thing?” he asked, even as his hands slid up under the full skirt tugging gently at her panties beneath it.
Regan moved her legs to help him divest her of the scrap of lingerie, then pushed at him until he lifted off her. Silently, she rolled until she was facing away from him, kicking off her shoes as she moved.
Tyler went to work immediately on the back of the dress, unlacing the skin tight corset with deft fingers and pulling Regan back to face him as it fell away from her breasts, exposing her to him for the first time.
“You’re beautiful,” he told her on a hushed whisper. Lowering his head to her breast, he sucked hard on the nipple, feeling it harden under his tongue and mouth. Tyler wrapped his hand around the other perfect orb, feeling Regan arch under his ministration. He pulled back to blow a tantalizing breath on the wet nipple, watching it tighten even more before he covered it with his hand to squeeze gently. A small moan escaped her lips as he nipped her other nipple between his teeth. The pressure in his groin was growing urgent. He willed himself to slow down.
Tyler tugged the dress down Regan’s body and followed the confection with kisses, stopping to pay homage between her thighs and causing her to shudder and claw at his back in demand.
So much for going slow. Tyler pulled her dress over her toes and allowed it to fall to the floor, followed by his shirt, the last of the studs flying everywhere in his haste to remove it.
Regan lay naked in the soft lamplight causing Tyler to stop breathing briefly before the iron spike growing in his pants demanded release. Tugging clumsily at his zipper he finally yanked down his pants and briefs and fell upon her body.
“Am I crushing you?”
Regan shook her head no, and Tyler, holding what weight he could on his forearms dropped his mouth to hers again. Nibbling at her lips playfully, he pressed forward, sliding his leg between her thighs and pushing them apart. She moved willingly, her hands massaging the long muscles in his back, clasping him to her tightly as her body writhed beneath his, begging for possession.
Besotted (Beguiling Bachelors Book 4) Page 9