That probably shouldn’t burn him as much as it did.
He cleared his throat, pushing down the protectiveness that was going to drive him crazy if he didn’t keep himself in check. He was here to tell her about what was happening with the acquisition. Nothing more.
“I just got off the phone with Miranda’s assistant,” he said. “His team looked over our numbers, and it’s not a done deal or anything, but it’s looking good. They want to meet with us tomorrow to hammer out details.”
He stood there, waiting for her face to light up the same way his had once he’d registered the news.
Never, not even in their most optimistic scenarios, had they imagined that El Escudo would agree to sell so quickly. They had meetings booked the next few days with other key players, all based on the assumption that they’d need to apply some pressure from different directions if they wanted to get the deal done.
But it hadn’t come to that. Dane didn’t want to get his hopes up, but at this rate, they might be able to close within a week. He could go home. Hell, he might even make it back in time for the trip to Vermont he’d pretty much assumed he’d have to sell his spot for.
He’d be able to get some space from Lexie. All he had to do was survive these next few days of negotiations and then another trans-Atlantic flight. The chances of the guys from finance and legal missing that one was slim to none, so basically, he was home free.
Only Lexie didn’t seem to see it that way. “Tomorrow? We—we’re not ready.”
Shaking her head, she retreated from the door and made an only slightly wavering beeline for her bag. Dane hesitated.
He should probably go. She hadn’t invited him in so much as she’d forgotten to close the door, and besides, she was so concerned about appearances. If anyone caught him ducking in and out of her room, they might get the wrong right idea. She wouldn’t want that.
Then she dragged out her laptop and set it on the desk in the corner of the room. Perching in the chair beside it, she fired the thing up and pulled out . . .
A spreadsheet.
Oh, hell, he was going to regret this.
Shutting the door behind him, he stalked across the room to her. While scrolling through the numbers, she’d also brought her phone to her ear and redialed her brother.
“Hi, Rylan, sorry about that. Dane says they’re on board. We need to get the rest of our projections figured out and—”
Dane plucked the phone from her hand.
“Hey!” She whirled around, reaching to swipe it back, but he held it to his ear, too high for her to reach, and planted a palm on her shoulder to hold her down.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Bellamy,” he said into the speaker. “Ms. Bellamy is going to need those projections, but the New York team is going to have to get them put together, because she and her staff have all been up for about thirty-two hours.” He looked her squarely in the eye. “And while she might like to pretend that she’s a robot, she is in fact a human being who occasionally needs to stop for food and sleep.”
Lexie stared at him dumbfounded and slack-jawed. A dangerous red crept up her neck, and he really shouldn’t find that as sexy as he did. He liked her docile and crying on her knees, but fuck him if he didn’t love her feisty and fierce and spitting mad.
Before she could get her wits about her enough to lay into him, he switched the phone to speaker and held it out so she could hear. The line was silent for long enough that he worried he might have accidentally dropped the call, but after a second, Rylan’s deep laughter rang out.
“So she does,” Rylan said. “If you actually think you can manage to get her to do that, there’s a fifteen percent raise waiting for you when you get back.”
The rage in her glare redirected itself at her phone. “Rylan—”
“Listen to the man, Lex. He’s clearly got a good head on his shoulders.”
“See?” Dane mouthed, raising his brows.
If anything, she glared harder. “I can manage my own acquisition, I’ll have you know.”
“Never doubted it,” Rylan said. “The projections will be in your inbox by the time you wake up at . . . what, with the jet lag, maybe four a.m., Barcelona time?”
“Rylan . . .” Warning colored her tone.
“At which point, you are free to do whatever additional analysis you need to on them. Fair?”
Dane could see her weighing her response—sizing her stubbornness and her pride against the fatigue even she had to admit was slowing her down.
“Fine,” she grumbled.
“Good. Go get some sleep, okay, Lex?”
“Whatever.”
“Dane?”
“Yes, sir?”
“I’m trusting you to make sure she actually does.”
Dane swallowed. For fuck’s sake. Now her brother of all people was practically ordering him to take her to bed. Did he have no idea where Dane’s mind would go?
“Roger that, sir,” he managed to grind out.
He pressed the button to end the call, then handed Lexie her phone.
With his pulse ringing in his ears, he stared her down. The temptation she presented—disheveled and rumpled, her cheeks pink and eyes bright with annoyance—was almost too much.
He should back away slowly. Rylan may have tasked him with making sure she rested, but no one in their right mind would take him seriously.
Tired and turned on and drunk on her scent, Dane was not in his right mind.
Reaching past her, letting his chest brush her shoulder, he closed her laptop. It made a quiet click that sounded way too loud on the still air.
He breathed in, filling his lungs with the heady floral sweetness of her perfume. With the scent of her.
Standing partway, he swiveled her chair around. He planted one hand on each arm of the seat. Her whole body was tense, but no matter how exhausted she was, it didn’t take her long to catch up. Chest heaving, perky nipples going even harder in her top, she gazed at him with wide eyes and a gentle part to her pretty, wet, red mouth.
Leaning in, their faces close enough that he could feel her breath, he said, “You heard the man. It’s my job now to take you to bed. Only one question that leaves us with.”
“Oh?”
“You gonna let me do it the easy way?” His breath hitched, a calm stealing over him. “Or would you rather we do it hard?”
It might just be the exhaustion making her hallucinate, but Lexie was pretty sure she could actually see the giant red sign blaring bad idea at her.
By all rights, she should be furious at Dane. He’d just interrupted an important business call and belittled her to her boss. Well, brother. Brother and business partner—there were a lot of blurred lines in her and Rylan’s relationship.
What mattered was that she’d spent her entire adult life trying to get Rylan to stop seeing her as the annoying little sister who used to chase after him in diapers and start seeing her as his equal. Working with him to save the company had been a big step, but this trip was another, bigger one. She might have kept the place afloat after he’d left her behind all by herself, but he hadn’t been there to appreciate it. This time, she was doing the work, making a deal that was going to earn the company millions, and he was going to see it all happen.
Dane taking the phone from her and basically telling Rylan that she needed to be put to bed was the exact opposite of everything she’d been working to accomplish.
And yet. An unstoppable shiver of excitement coursed along her spine. He’d done it with such command. Even she knew she was too tired to be working, but he’d been strong enough to call her out on it.
And now he stood over her, the big bulk of his body pressing into her space, crowding her and making her feel safe and held all at the same time. She couldn’t seem to summon the anger that should be sitting just beneath her skin. Instead, all she could do was stare into those blue-gray eyes of his, gone dark and stormy with authority and arousal.
She already knew how good it felt to g
ive in. He’d showed her that on the plane, breaking her down only to build her right back up again. He’d been taking care of her then, too, until in a rush of humiliation and terror—and whatever else had been running through her blood after the intensity of what he’d made her feel—she’d pushed him away.
She’d told him they couldn’t do this anymore.
But here he was. Pressing her all the same.
She swallowed hard. Lifted her chin in defiance even though her bones felt like water. “What makes you think anything’s changed since last night?”
His gaze flashed darker. “You mean when you let me eat you out on your private jet?” He traced a finger down her jaw, sending shivers in its wake. “Or when you let me spank you? When you let me fuck you until you screamed?”
“Dane—”
“Or when you decided to run away and tell me you couldn’t do this with me?”
She gritted her teeth. “That one.”
“Because you’re my boss.”
“Because . . .” She scrambled. It wasn’t just that. It was everything that went with it. The authority. The vulnerability.
He’d seen behind her curtain last night in a way no one ever had before. If they did it again, how was she supposed to work with him?
How was she supposed to not need it? That exhilarated feeling of letting go, all the knots in her back releasing at once. Orgasm like a whiteout as she surrendered control.
His hand on the arm of her chair tightened, and the vein in his temple twitched. “It’s because you’re afraid.”
“I—” Protests rose and died on her lips.
Because that was it, wasn’t it? She was terrified.
“Why?” he asked. “Did I treat you any differently today than I’ve treated you any other day we’ve worked together?”
She racked her brain. He’d handled all of her affairs the same way he ever did. He hadn’t said anything off-color or given any hint of what they’d done together.
He’d been a professional.
“No.” The word was barely a breath. It was the loudest word she’d ever spoken.
“So why? Why can’t you do this?”
“I don’t know.”
Lexie always knew the answer. Somehow, this man had left her floundering a hundred miles away from shore.
With a finger beneath her chin, he tilted her head until her gaze met his. “Lexie.” God, how her name on his lips made her tremble. “What on earth are you so afraid of?”
So many things. The whispers had always stopped when she approached, but the gossip about her and Jordan had been intense. After, she’d sworn she’d never put herself in that position again, yet here she was, teetering on the edge. Maybe it was the way he said it. Maybe it was the naked desire in his eyes. The tender warmth of his fingers on her skin.
Maybe it was that he’d proven himself worthy of her trust.
In her mind, she walked right over to the neon sign screaming BAD IDEA. She reached for its cord and she turned off its light.
“Nothing,” she breathed.
Then she reached a hand to grasp the nape of his neck. And yanked him down.
He clearly hadn’t been expecting it. A strangled sound escaped his lips as their mouths clashed together, teeth knocking, the sharp tang of blood on her tongue. She let him go, embarrassment rising in her.
But that split second was all it took him to catch up. The hand beneath her chin slid back until he grasped her by her neck, fingers pressing hard enough to bruise, and fuck, that shouldn’t feel so good. Angling her head, he took control of the kiss, and what was left for her to do but succumb?
Opening for him, she welcomed him in, sucking on his tongue as it pressed inside. He let out a groan, probing deeper. Releasing his grip on the chair, he put his hand on her thigh, slipping under her skirt. His touch was so warm, the roughness of his fingertips magic against her skin.
Panting, he pulled away, gaze searing into her. “You remember the rules?”
“Rules?” Her thoughts were a blur, her brain turned to mush from his kiss.
“You do as I say. You call me Sir. One warning and then you pay the consequences.”
Oh God. Was that supposed to be a deterrent? Every blow of his hand against her ass had driven her higher, making her forget who she was and why she cared—driving her out of her head for one blessed second. Driving her into this place where everything was soft and glowing and she could just be.
“Right. Yes.”
“And if you don’t like something . . .”
“I say stop.” She’d scarcely so much as considered it the last time, but the reminder was a balm over what little was left of her nerves.
She could let go. She could trust him. She could give herself over to this.
One corner of his mouth twitched higher. “Good girl.”
Something in her melted.
Before she could really react, though, she was out of her chair and in his arms. A muffled shriek escaped her as he hoisted her over his shoulder, all the breath driven from her body with the world suddenly upside down, the blood rushing to her head.
“What are you—”
His hand clapped hard against her ass. He gave it a rebuking squeeze. “I told you I was taking you to bed.”
The man was as good as his word. He ate up the distance to the other room of her suite in a dozen strides. When he reached the bed, he tossed her down onto it.
Billowing softness met her, the duvet fluffing all around her at the impact, and her eyes slid closed. Finally being horizontal felt almost as good as kicking off her heels had, and she luxuriated in it, sweeping her arms above her head and stretching out from hands to toes.
Dane climbed over top of her, caging her in. She blinked her eyes open at the warm, wet press of his mouth to her throat, sucking kisses laid in a line along the sensitive flesh there. Shivering, she lifted her arms to drape her hands on his shoulders.
Everything felt so good.
But she still couldn’t seem to suppress her yawn.
He chuckled against her ear, a warm rush of air over wet skin. “Sorry, am I putting you to sleep?”
“I’ve been awake since yesterday.”
At that, he pulled away, looking her in the eyes with no less intensity but with a certain softness, too. With something a little more than just lust.
“I know, baby. I really did mean it about taking you to bed. If you’re too tired . . .”
She shook her head wildly, drifting a hand to lay her finger across his lips. He pressed a kiss there, and she felt it between her thighs.
“Not yet.” Twisting, she snuck a glance at the clock beside the bed. “It’s not even five. I crash now and I’ll be up in the middle of the night.”
He grasped her wrist and pulled her hand away from his mouth. “You’re exhausted, though.”
“Yeah.” She flexed her jaw. “I am. So I guess someone’s going to have to figure out how to keep me awake.”
Challenge glinted darkly in his eyes. “I have a couple of ideas.”
chapter EIGHT
Try a couple thousand.
Lexie was spread out before him like a feast, and here he was a starving man. He’d been fantasizing about a meal for so long, and now that he had one, he couldn’t decide where to start.
Never in a million years had he thought they’d end up together again so soon. His pessimism usually worked for him, but he was cursing it now. If he’d realized she’d invite him in tonight, he could have planned ahead.
Not that he was complaining. Her hair was silk between his fingers as he combed them through it, and her skin was even softer. His cock throbbed inside his slacks as images of their bodies spun out before his eyes, all the combinations and configurations. He scraped his teeth across his bottom lip and let his gaze drift down her curves. The hard peaks of her breasts pressing against her top. The pale cream of her thighs where her skirt had ridden up.
She ran her fingertips along the back of his neck, m
aking his skin burn hotter. “Such as?”
Well, there was an idea. She wanted him to name all the dirty, depraved things he was aching to do to her?
If he did this right, he bet he could get her to come before he even laid a hand on her cunt.
“For starters,” he said, voice dropping. He tugged at her hair, sharper than he probably should have, but she moaned as her head leaned to the side, and shit, she didn’t know what that did to him. If she really liked to get her hair pulled, he might be the one embarrassing himself by going off too soon.
Struggling for control, he leaned in close, grazing his nose along the column of her throat. He licked his lips and began again. “For starters, I could get you naked.”
She hummed, craning her neck farther. “Don’t know how that would keep me awake. I usually sleep naked anyway.”
Fuck. He really hadn’t needed to know that right now—hadn’t needed the image of her all tangled in her sheets, eyes closed and mouth parted. Maybe having a dirty dream, maybe with her hand on her pussy, grinding against her fist in her sleep.
He snapped his teeth beside her ear. “You trying to distract me?”
“Depends.” She inhaled, raspy and shallow. “Is it working?”
“Hardly.” Such a lie. But he could focus through it. “Once you were naked, clearly I’d have to do something to keep your attention.”
“Oh?”
He kissed his way down her neck, leaving a wet trail. At her collarbone, he let his teeth graze her skin, licking gently after to soothe the bite. Her top was this silky, sleeveless thing. Tucking his fingers into the neckline, he pulled it down, sliding his lips lower and lower until he reached her breasts. They were even more perfect without the bra, straining her shirt, so ready to spill right out. His mouth watered.
“I could suck on your tits for a while.” Nudging the fabric lower, he did just that, getting his tongue on the rosy nub of her nipple, hard and stiff, and she groaned, threading her fingers through his hair. He reached a hand into the other side, cupping her and teasing at that peak, too. He pulled his mouth off with a pop, and she let out a whine. “But I don’t know. That might not be enough to keep your interest.”
Nine Kinds of Naughty Page 8