How could they not have told him what was going on?
“This transition will take some time, but in the interim we have decided to appoint someone to fill Jason’s role while he shadows me more intensely.” Gerald cleared his throat. “We’d like to thank our current head of projects, Matthew Donaldson, for agreeing to step up and help out.”
The wind was totally knocked out of Caleb’s lungs. So, not only was his father sick and hadn’t told him about the changes to the family company, but he hadn’t even given Caleb the opportunity to take up the position of general manager.
If it had ever been foggy before, the message was crystal-fucking-clear now: Caleb was totally on his own.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IMOGEN WALKED, SHELL-SHOCKED, from the ladies’ room where she’d gone to wash her hands and splash her face with cold water in the hope it might pull her out of her stunned state. Prostate cancer. Totally treatable. But Gerald’s doctor had indicated the need for rest and a reduction of stress. That meant reducing his role to board-level involvement in the Allbrook family business.
Oh, and she’d given her boss’s son a hand job under the boardroom table.
What the ever-loving smurf were you thinking? Have you lost your freaking mind?
Thoughts buzzed around in her head like bees, each one fighting to be the loudest until all she could hear was an incessant, ear-splitting whine. Her job was safe, Gerald had stressed that when he’d called her into his office after the management meeting. She would be working for Jason.
Let’s make sure you don’t get fired for performing a sex act in the middle of a team meeting.
She headed into her office and shut the door, sagging back against it for a moment to catch her breath. But that’s when she saw Caleb leaning against the wall beside her desk, arms and ankles crossed, his pants pulled up just enough to reveal a pair of electric-blue socks patterned with yellow polka dots.
“Did you know?” he asked.
His hair—which had been perfect in the meeting—now flopped over his forehead. That coupled with the dark expression and narrowed eyes gave him a wild, dangerous look. But even then, Imogen could only see him through a veil of lust. Her body remembered too much—the demanding grip of his hands at her hips, the velvety hard erection in her palm. How he’d tasted on Saturday night—like whiskey and sex and sinfulness.
“Not until now,” she said. “I... I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry that my father has cancer or that I found out along with the rest of the company?” His lips took on a cruel edge as he smirked. “Don’t answer that.”
“I wasn’t going to,” she whispered.
She couldn’t imagine what that must be like—to have a father who so coldly cut you out of his affection, out of his business. Out of his life, from what she could tell. Her own father was a tough, hardworking man of few words. And even though he never mustered the vulnerability to say “I love you” outright, he always managed to show it by coming over to repair her light fixtures or tighten the decrepit pipes under her kitchen sink.
But Gerald—a man she’d once admired with all her being—was rapidly losing her respect for how he treated his youngest son.
Sure, Caleb wasn’t an ambitious self-starter like his brother...but had he ever been given a chance? She’d always thought of him as a party guy, a social butterfly who didn’t really care too much about work. But she’d seen what he was like in Gerald’s office talking about the leadership retreat, she’d heard the passion in his voice. And now she’d seen the devastation in his face when his father and brother took credit for his idea.
What if his lack of ambition had nothing to do with his personal goals and everything to do with being forced to live in the shadows?
“Do you want to talk?” she asked.
He shook his head. “There’s nothing to say.”
His eyes were ablaze with fury and lust. She’d never experienced something so volatile and exciting before—something so...exhilarating. Caleb turned her into a different woman; he dragged out a new side of her, a side she hadn’t even known existed.
“Then why are you here?” Her voice disappeared like steam curling up into the air.
“I told you,” he said. “I have something of yours.”
He pulled her beige underwear out of his suit jacket and flung them onto her desk. She swallowed, her palms flattened behind her against the office door. Outside, the sound of heels against the marble floor tracked back and forth. People coming and going, all potential opportunities for her to be caught.
Caught? You’re not doing anything wrong...
Yet. The word hovered on her tongue because she knew where this was going. He’d come to finish what she’d started. Imogen shook her head, trying to find the words to return everything to normal. To regain control of the situation.
“Thanks for returning them,” she said. “I have a meeting now that—”
“Cancel it.” His voice was like ice.
“I can’t, Caleb. It’s important...uh, I...” Oh God, what was wrong with her? He’d reduced her to a babbling mess with nothing more than a simple command and that powerful, intense stare. “I really need to get back to work.”
“Leave it.” He stalked over to her. “Work can wait.”
“We can’t do this here. Not after...” Her head swam as he placed one hand on either side of her head, hemming her in. “Saturday was unexpected and unplanned. I don’t even know if...”
His brow furrowed. “You don’t know what?”
“I didn’t even tell you to use protection.” She clamped her eyes shut, the shame of her stupidity washing over her. “I’m not on the pill and I didn’t even say anything and I’m not ready for kids yet. It’s too early and I—”
“Shh.” A warm hand cupped her cheek, the gesture shocking her with tenderness. “I used a condom.”
“You did?” She sagged with relief. “Oh thank God.”
“Imogen, you might think I’m a selfish brute, but I wouldn’t put you in danger like that.” His expression softened. “I promise.”
“Everything happened so fast.”
“I know, baby.” He lowered his forehead to hers, his eyes holding her captive. “Now lock this fucking door and clear your schedule.”
She swallowed. Her stomach was a circus performer doing summersault after summersault, but there was no denying the soul-deep yes that rang loud and clear in her head. She wanted this. She wanted him.
“This is so unprofessional,” she said, her mind grappling for an excuse to walk away. She couldn’t come up with one. “What if someone hears?”
“If you can’t be quiet, you can stuff those panties in your mouth.” He smirked.
Holy guacamole.
She reached behind herself and flicked the lock on the door handle. The quiet snick shot through her body, making her hands tremble in anticipation.
Caleb stepped back. “Sit on your desk.”
On shaking legs, she walked to her desk. It wasn’t anything fancy like they had in the executive offices—a plain white desk that housed her laptop, diary and a potted plant. It was uncluttered, simple. Like how she wanted her life to be...or so she’d thought.
She rose up on her tiptoes and slid her backside onto the desk. The fabric of her pencil skirt bunched at the tops of her thighs and she automatically pushed it down. Which seemed a little pointless, but Imogen was far out of her depth.
“Cancel the meeting.”
He unplugged her laptop and handed it to her, waiting while she rescheduled her catch up with Mary. The second she sent the notification, her phone rang, but Caleb was already sinking to his knees in front of her.
“Answer it,” he said.
She brought the receiver up to her ear. “Hello. Imogen Hargrove speaking.”
Caleb’s hands smoothed up her thig
hs, breaching the hem of her skirt until his fingertips found the waistband of her underwear. A gentle hand pushed her back against the desk until she was lying flat, her legs dangling over the edge. He worked the underwear down over her hips, past her knees and removed them completely.
The voice on the other end of the phone prattled on. It was the assistant of one of Gerald’s business contacts wanting to arrange delivery of some important documents.
“Courier is fine,” she said in the calmest tone she could muster while Caleb snaked back up her body, pushing her skirt higher and nudging her legs apart. “Address them to the CEO but send them care of me.”
Warm breath skated over her skin, teasing her. Caleb’s hands were braced on her inner thighs, his thumbs delicately brushing against her sex. A hint of what was to come.
No pun intended.
The woman went over the documents in frustrating detail, and Imogen wanted to scream at her to hurry up. She clamped her lips down and squeezed her eyes shut, her hands white-knuckling the phone receiver, as Caleb dragged his tongue over her sex.
Holy guacamole, indeed.
“Yes, that’s right,” she said. “We’re on level eight. Bourke Street. No, Bourke with an e on the end. Yes.”
His tongue flicked over her clit, dragging a moan from deep inside her. She pressed her hand over her mouth to stop it flying out, but the energy spent on trying to keep quiet only made the sensation of him lapping at her even more intense.
“No, there’s no e at the end of Allbrook.” She gritted her teeth. “It’s fine. If the company name is correct, then we’ll get the documents.”
When the woman on the other end of the phone said she wanted to go over the address one more time Imogen sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry to cut you off but I’m in the middle of something. I’ll call you back.”
She slammed the phone down and arched her back as Caleb sucked on her. Reaching down blindly, her fingers searched for his head and found purchase in the thick waves of his golden hair.
“Tsk tsk,” he said, looking up. “That was very rude.”
“It would have been ruder to scream your name in that poor woman’s ear.”
“Do I need to gag you?” he asked with a grin. “I thought you’d have a little more control than that.”
Her cheeks burned. “Does it look like I have any control right now?”
“Good point.”
He dipped his head back between her legs and worshiped her with his mouth. This time he didn’t hold back—he gave her the pressure she wanted, the right level of friction. It was like he knew exactly how to push her straight to the edge of need.
“Caleb,” she whispered, her body writhing against the desk. “That’s so good.”
“How good?” he growled.
She didn’t have the words to tell him, so she tightened her grip on his hair, raking her nails over his scalp in an effort to show him. He nipped at the inside of her thigh in response. This was how they could communicate openly. With their bodies. Without any fear that words might not adequately do the job.
She rolled her hips, grinding himself against her face until the tremors started. Behind closed lids there was a pinpoint of pleasure and she chased it, her body tripping over itself to get to that blissful feeling of release.
“Oh God.” She bit down on her lip, stifling all the things she wanted to say—dirty, naughty, bad things. Instead she curled her hands around the edge of the desk and held on while he consumed her and she chanted his name over and over in her mind.
When her tremors stopped, he placed a chaste kiss at the top of her sex and stood. His self-satisfied grin made her laugh—he looked truly pleased with himself.
“It’s a shame we had to be so quiet,” he said. “I still haven’t been able to hear you properly when you come.”
Imogen pushed up into a sitting position. “That’s because you keep accosting me in public.”
“Accosting?” He laughed. “Yeah, you look like you thoroughly hated that. And there’s a locked door—this hardly counts as public.”
Imogen caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the wall. Her ponytail looked like something a kookaburra might nest in and her pink lipstick was smudged up onto her cheek. If the dictionary had pictures, this would be sitting under “dishevelled.”
“I have to go,” he said.
“We’re not going to finish this?” she asked.
Even though the orgasm was great, she had a distinct feeling of being cheated. Her sex still pulsed and throbbed, desperate to be filled. But Caleb was going to leave her hanging.
“If you want it Friday night, I’m all yours.” He planted a kiss on her lips and she caught a brief taste of something unfamiliar and earthy. Her. “Until then...looks like I’ve ruined two of these now.”
He gestured at the two pairs of underwear sitting on her desk. Neither one was wearable.
“See you on Friday.” He sauntered toward the door and let himself out as she scrambled off her desk, pulling her skirt down and wondering how the hell she was going to be able to concentrate on work for the rest of the day.
You’ve got to put a stop to this. He’s running rings around you already. You’ll get chewed up and spat out.
The plan had been to approach the dating scene carefully. Regain her confidence. Start paving the road to feeling sexy and attractive again. Her ex-husband had left scars so deep that whenever she looked in the mirror all she could see was a flashing neon sign that said Not Good Enough. If she’d been prettier/funnier/smarter she could have kept her husband from straying.
Imogen knew thinking like that was a slippery slope to despair. His inability to stay faithful wasn’t anything to do with her, in the end. He was addicted to the attention, to the thrill of the chase. But finding out that he’d never had any intention of being monogamous had cut deep.
Reentering the dating scene only to be met with a whole lot of reinforcing messages that she still wasn’t pretty/funny/smart enough had unpicked that wound stitch by stitch.
That was why she was intoxicated by Caleb’s attention. He gave her what she needed, what she craved—that feeling of being beautiful and attractive and wanted. Of being enough.
It wasn’t because she thought they had a future together...was it?
No. Caleb would grow bored of her like he had with the other women he’d dated. She was a challenge for him, since she’d rebuffed his advances. He, like her ex, enjoyed the chase. So now that he’d caught her it would be over soon. And the quicker she got that into her head, the better.
After she got the information about Daniel on Friday night, she would go back to looking for a nice, safe, sensible man who wouldn’t use and discard her.
* * *
Unfortunately, the glorious pride at bringing Imogen to her knees—or in this case, her back—in the middle of the workday had worn off the second Caleb left her office. The dark cloud hanging over him thickened as the week progressed, causing him to crack with frustration and resentment at any mention of his father. The kind words, while well-meaning, fuelled the fire in his heart.
He’d been avoiding his family like the plague, knowing full well that if they tried to talk to him he was liable to blow a fuse. His mother and Jason had made contact. Gerald, as usual, had stayed silent.
But Caleb had a promise to keep, and that meant having drinks with his brother and Daniel after work on Friday. And, given Imogen was the only person he wanted to see right now, he wasn’t about to break that promise.
“Hey.” Jason looked up from packing a bunch of files into his satchel as Caleb walked into his office. “I had a feeling you were going to cancel on me tonight.”
“Why, because our father decided to tell his employees and his son that he had cancer at the same time? Was that supposed to upset me?” He ladled the sarcasm on thickly. “Nice try, old man, bu
t I guess he forgot I’m immune to giving a shit.”
“I know you don’t mean that.” Jason sighed. “Look, this situation is royally fucked up. I get it. But what am I supposed to do? Neither one of you is willing to give an inch, and I’m not a miracle worker.”
Caleb swallowed back the resentment burning a hole inside him. “Maybe you could have given me the heads-up so I wasn’t blindsided.”
“It wasn’t my news to share. At first he told me he wasn’t going to tell anyone.” Jason raked a hand through his hair. “He wanted to announce my new role and be done with it, but I told him the staff would ask questions if it happened suddenly. We don’t want the company suffering from a lack of confidence because of his secret-keeping.”
“It’s always about the company, isn’t it?” he said bitterly.
“It’ll be different when I’m in charge.”
“Thank God. Big brother to the rescue again.” He held up his hand when Jason went to retort. “Just tell me, did he go to you first or did he go to Mum?”
His brother eyed him warily. “Why does that matter?”
“Because I can take it when he treats me like shit, but she can’t.” He’d seen his mother cry too many times over the way Gerald held her at an arm’s length, even after all these years. The sad thing was, she genuinely loved him. It was the reason she never argued or stood up for herself. “I know she’s not your mother, so you don’t have to care. But she’s his wife. That should mean something.”
“Let’s cut that bullshit out right now. I do care about her. You know that. More importantly, she knows that.” He cleared his throat. “But yes, he came to me first. It was only so we could work out how I was going to transition into the role quickly enough for him to start chemo.”
Chemo. As much as he hated himself for feeling anything at all, the word was a sucker punch. It was easy to be angry at Gerald in principle, because he had every right to be goddamn furious at the old man, but cancer was serious. Cancer that required timelines for chemo was...next level.
It would be easier if Caleb could hate him. But he didn’t.
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