All For You: Halfway ThereBuckhorn Ever AfterThe One You WantOne Perfect Night

by Susan Mallery

  Three of her elevator mates bypassed the counter without a word, two going through the door on the right and one going through the door on the left. Must work here. Another elevator mate, a female, stopped at the counter.

  “I’m here to see Dane,” she said, and Kenna frowned.

  Know that voice. But from where...where? The answer clicked into place. Jada from the engagement party.

  Kenna stiffened, her heart dropping into her stomach. At least the receptionist didn’t immediately take the girl back.

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No,” Jada huffed. “Just tell Dane I’m here and that I’d like to speak with him. It’s important. A matter of life and death.”

  The receptionist picked up the phone, muttered a few words. So. Dane was in the building. Still. I should leave. I’m acting just like his other women, dropping by without an appointment. That had to be annoying to him.

  “I’m sorry,” the receptionist said, returning the phone to its receiver. “But he’s in a meeting.”

  “Did you tell him who I am? Jada Hamilton. And that it’s an emergency.”

  “I told him.”

  Jada sucked in a breath. “Bastard,” she muttered. She spun on her heel and almost knocked into Kenna. Her eyes widened. “You!”

  “Me,” she managed. She took a step back. Coming here had been a mistake. A huge mistake. He was in a meeting, and she had no right to disturb him.

  “You might as well go,” Jada said, tone clipped. “He’s in a meeting.”

  “I heard.”

  Jada linked their arms and guided Kenna back to the elevators. “You’re his sister, right?”

  “Stepsister.”

  “But you still know him well.”

  Did anyone ever really know a man like Dane? “I suppose.”

  “Tell me. How many others have you seen him with? I try and try to get him to open up, to commit, but he never will. He’s like an island, you know, and only a few people are allowed to visit...before being shipped off. I know I can make him happy if only he’ll give me a chance.”

  The words were flying at Kenna without pause, and she could barely keep up.

  “He resists anything long-term,” Jada said. “Has he ever told you why?”

  Ding. The elevator doors opened up and an older African-Amarican man stepped out. He nodded at them and moved on, and Jada and Kenna took his place inside the box.

  “Well,” Jada prompted.

  “No,” she replied honestly. But she could guess. His dad.

  “He told me we were done,” the woman said with a sigh. “Why would he do that unless he’s scared of what he feels for me?”

  Because of what he feels for me. Warmth poured through Kenna. He’d kept his word. Wasn’t seeing other women.

  “I must have gotten too close,” Jada said.

  “You mentioned an emergency,” Kenna said, changing the subject. “A matter of life and death.”

  The girl sighed. “The life and death of our relationship.”

  “Miss Starr!” a harried voice called. The elevator doors were in the process of closing. An arm shot through the center, stopping them. The frowning receptionist stepped halfway inside. “Mr. Michaelson will see you.”

  She blinked, surprised. “But his meeting...”

  “He’ll see you.”

  Jada stiffened.

  How had Dane even known Kenna was here?

  She pulled from his ex, hating that the girl was hurt by his rejection but also happy for herself—was that wrong?—and followed after the receptionist. Details of the office she’d missed because of her nervousness registered. The gleam of the hardwood floors and the plushness of the rugs. The paintings on the walls were all florals, and she wondered who had chosen them. Not Dane, surely. The counter was white marble veined with rose.

  The door on the right opened into an active hallway with multiple office doors on one side and cubicles on the other. Many eyes watched her curiously as she passed, and she curbed the urge to smooth her hands over her hair and clothing.

  The receptionist opened the French doors at the far end, and several males stomped out. She motioned for Kenna to enter. Then those doors were closed, and Kenna was alone with Dane.

  He strode toward her, and wow, he looked gorgeous. Like a model himself, set apart from the rest of the world, utterly unattainable.

  “I interrupted your meeting,” she said, heart hammering against her ribs. He’d had those lips on her, those fingers inside her.

  Hammering harder.

  He reached her, wrapped his arms around her. She could feel the long, rigid length of him, and it only made her craving for him worse. “Let’s get out of here,” he said.

  Yes, oh, yes. “No,” she said with a shake of her head, and pulled from his embrace.

  He followed her, even as she evaded him. “I’m not ruining your workday,” she insisted.

  “No, you’re not. You’re making it better.”

  Even harder.

  “I don’t know why you came, but I’m glad you did.” His voice was husky with arousal. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.” She allowed him to catch her again and ran her hands up his chest, discovered his heart was beating as erratically as hers, and framed his cheeks. “I know we said we’d take things slow, but I thought we could negotiate and speed things up.”

  He pressed his lips against hers, taking the barest taste with his tongue.

  “I agree. Like I said, let’s go.” He grabbed her hand, yanked her toward the door. “We’ll do our negotiating in private.”

  A buzz sounded from his desk. “Mr. Winstead is here,” the receptionist announced.

  Dane cursed under his breath and released her to scrub a hand through his hair. “I forgot. Damn it. I can’t reschedule this. Give me an hour and we’ll go back to my place.”

  “Shall I wait in the lobby?”

  “Honey, you just got here. I’m not letting you out of my sight.” He led her to a plush leather couch, gave her another kiss, then another, this one lingering. His tongue came out to play with hers. He wrapped his arms around her.

  “Mr. Michaelson?”

  With another curse, Dane released her and stalked to his desk. He jabbed a button and said, “Send him back.”

  Not knowing what else to do, Kenna eased onto the couch. The door opened a minute later, and the receptionist stepped inside. She gave the office a visual sweep, stopping on Kenna and gaping. The African-American man who’d exited the elevators strode inside behind her. She exited, and the door closed.

  As Mr. Winstead and Dane shook hands, the other man noticed her. She gave a little wave.

  “Miss Starr will be taking notes,” Dane said, then winked at her.

  A blush warmed her cheeks. The meeting kicked off, and she picked up words like “drilling,” “refining” and “processing.” Something about NYMEX again, and a “benchmark.” Just like at the engagement party, everything went over her head.

  At one point, Dane called out, “Do you concur, Miss Starr?”

  What else could she say but, “I concur, Mr. Michaelson. Of course.”

  He sighed with exaggerated heaviness. “That certainly complicates things.”

  She almost had a panic attack. Had she just ruined his meeting? “I mean, I don’t concur!”

  While still talking to Mr. Winstead, he walked to the wet bar and poured a drink. She expected him to give it to his guest, but he gave it to Kenna and traced his fingertip along her jaw before returning to his desk. Her need for him returned in a rush.

  As if it had ever really left.

  She took a sip of her drink—ginger ale. One of her favorites.

  “No, I did not say that,” Mr.
Winstead suddenly burst out.

  “You did,” Dane said calmly.

  “Miss Starr. Repeat back to me the last thing I said to Mr. Michaelson.”

  Uh...“No, I did not say that.”

  Dane covered his mouth with his hand—to stop a laugh?

  Mr. Winstead glared at her. “Before that.”

  “I don’t actually know,” she admitted.

  “Then what the hell are you doing here?”

  “All right. Enough,” Dane said, all pretense of calm gone. “This meeting is now over.” He stood and extended his hand. “My terms are nonnegotiable. Take them or leave them.”

  Mr. Winstead mumbled something, but the two shook hands. When Mr. Winstead left, he winked at her as Dane had, surprising her, making her think he’d gotten what he’d wanted out of their deal, whatever it was, but had played a role for show. Men! She would never understand them, but she would probably always enjoy looking at them.

  The door shut, and Dane was pulling her to her feet, wrapping his arms around her. “Finally.” He kissed her, stealing her breath, feeding her his own, ensuring her life revolved around his, that he was a part of her, branding her, owning her.

  But she could own him, too. She rolled her hips against him, nestling against the hardness between his legs. “I want you, Dane.”

  He groaned. “And you’ll have me. But not here. When I get you naked, I don’t want to be disturbed. Don’t want to risk anyone seeing what’s for my eyes alone.”

  “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go.”

  * * *

  MUCH TO DANE’S DISPLEASURE, Kenna insisted on driving her own car. He did his best to change her mind, not wanting to miss a single second with her, but she remained stubborn. Now he motored down the road slowly, even though he longed to hit the gas, ensuring she was always seen in his rearview mirror. He even stopped for every yellow light. No way he’d lose her.

  Finally, after what seemed an agonizing eternity, he reached his home. The palatial estate in the middle of thirty acres was low and sprawling and bigger than a single male with zero pets or livestock needed, but he liked his space, and he liked not having neighbors nearby. He parked in front rather than in back, eager to get out and get Kenna out of her car and into his arms.

  He led her inside quickly, flipped on the living room light, and eased her down on the couch. He was more than ready to rip off his clothes, then hers, when a feminine voice called from the hallway, “Oh, Day-ayne, I’ve got a surprise for you....”

  He stiffened, fighting dread as footsteps pattered. This isn’t happening. Then, almost in slow motion, like a villain appearing in a horror movie, Courtney rounded the corner—naked.

  With a gasp, Kenna jumped to her feet.

  Courtney noticed her and shrieked, running back to the bedroom.

  Oh, it’s happening, all right.

  “Kenna,” he said. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

  She stared up at him for a long while, silent, her expression blank. Then, slowly, she walked to the wet bar and poured herself a drink.

  He followed her, willing to tie her down and force her to listen to him. “I don’t know why she’s here or how—”

  Splash.

  He blinked, wiped a hand down his dripping face, and realized she’d just tossed her drink at him.

  “Oh, Dane! You should see your face,” she said with a hearty laugh, shocking him. “And seriously, that was so freaking fun. I don’t know whether I should thank you for the opportunity to check another item off my list, or do it again.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  “I’M SO CONFUSED right now,” Dane said, the whiskey still dripping from his lashes.

  Kenna pressed a sweet kiss on his lips, making his blood boil with need. “Let me help clear things up. You need to get rid of the centerfold, and we need to finish what we started.” She trusted him. Besides, she knew him. He wouldn’t have brought a girl here if he’d had another one waiting for him, naked.

  “I don’t know why she’s here,” he repeated, “or how she got inside. I have never given her a key. Never given anyone a key. And I told her we were over. I even—”

  Kenna pressed a finger to the center of his mouth. “Less talking. More getting rid of.”

  He wiped his face with the bottom hem of his shirt, the lifted material revealing a stomach roped with all kinds of muscle. “You are a treasure, Kenna Starr. You know that?”

  Am I? I want to be. Want to be his treasure.

  He raced after the centerfold. Kenna heard cursing—both male and female—and the shatter of glass. She tensed, harkening back to the discovery of her mother’s affair with Thomas.

  Dane yelled, “Do not ever come to my home uninvited again. Do you understand?”

  “I know you want me,” the girl yelled back. “You’re just fighting commitment. Your dad said so.”

  “You called my father?”

  “I’m here to prove I can be everything you want, Dane. Everything you need. Spontaneous. Sexual.”

  More talking, but Kenna couldn’t make out the words.

  First Jada, now this. He must make every woman feel as if she was the only one in the world capable of taming him. Doesn’t bode well for me.

  A few minutes later, Dane escorted a red-faced Courtney from the hall. He didn’t head to the front door.

  “She parked in back,” he grumbled. They disappeared again.

  At least she’d been dressed this time. But...wow. That’s my competition. Slender, without an ounce of fat. Waxed and stacked. I’m not even in the same league.

  “She’s gone,” he said.

  Kenna blinked to find him standing in the entrance leading to the kitchen. He had one shoulder propped against the frame.

  “Maybe...maybe I should go, too,” she said.

  He gave an almost violent shake of his head. “No. You’re staying.”

  Nerves forced her to add, “There are probably a thousand different reasons we shouldn’t be doing this, Dane.”

  “And none of them are good enough, Freckles.” His low, husky voice drifted to her ears, a blatant caress. “I want you. You want me.” He loosened his tie, unbuttoned his shirt. “Do you deny it?”

  Gulping, she pushed to unsteady legs. “No.” But he’d wanted so many others for so long, and there was absolutely nothing special about her.

  More and more bronzed, muscled skin was revealed. “Earlier you mentioned something about negotiating to speed things up,” he said. “I agree that’s a good idea, so here are my terms. You will give yourself to me and I will take you. You’ll trust me not to hurt you. I will adore your body the way I’ve been dreaming about since the night of the party.”

  He’d been dreaming about her?

  “Are those acceptable terms?” he demanded.

  “Well, what do I get in return?” she asked, just to be contrary. As if he hadn’t just promised to make her every dream come true.

  “More pleasure than you’ve ever thought possible.”

  She couldn’t stop the shiver sliding through her. “I agree, though I have one caveat. I get to adore your body the way I’ve been dreaming about.”

  He flashed her a tender smile, one quickly replaced by desperate need. “Deal.” And then he was striding to her, discarding his shirt along the way. She barely had time to appreciate the smattering of tattoos running up his arms before he had her wrapped in his embrace.

  His mouth found hers, and as his tongue thrust inside, mimicking the hard-and-dirty ride to come, it had a devastating effect on any resistance she might have still harbored. It was as if an atomic blast had just detonated inside her, and her hunger for this man was the last thing standing. The only survivor.

  She devoured him with the same urgency he devoured her,
giving and taking seemingly unquenchable passion. Her hands longed to be everywhere at once and moved from his hair to his shoulders and then to his lower back in quick succession. His skin was soft and hot and the muscle underneath rigid with strength. He wasn’t some untried boy, afraid to demand what he needed. He was all man, confident and controlled.

  Or maybe not so controlled. “Need to touch more of you,” he rasped. He ripped off her shirt and tossed it away, then tore the center of her bra. He paused the scorching kiss long enough to stare at her bared breasts, the crests beaded and red, aching. “Pretty. Perfect.”

  He fell back on the couch, dragging her with him so that she straddled his waist. He sucked on one nipple, then the other, flicked his tongue over them and bit, drawing deliciously agonized moans from her. The pleasure was unreal, more potent than anything she’d ever experienced before, sweeping her up, propelling her to a new level of awareness, where nothing but sensation existed.

  She rubbed against him and cried out as a sharp lance of pleasure shot through her. He cupped her bottom, and urged her into a more dangerous rhythm, one that was constant. Rub...rub...rub...every point of contact electric, and all the while he continued to erotically torture her nipples.

  Too much. Not enough.

  “Dane.”

  He set her aside and leaped to his feet to yank at her shoes, her jeans. He hooked his thumbs at the band of her underwear and removed those, too, leaving her naked. There was no time to entertain shyness. He gripped her by the knees and parted her legs. Cool air brushed against her most intimate place.

  “So wet, honey. So beautiful,” he praised. He dropped to his knees, kneeling in front of her...and lowering his head.

  She trembled, hoping he would do it...but also nervous—

  He licked her.

  Her hips shot up off the couch, and he did it again, a slow lick that branded her soul-deep. No one had ever...how could it be so...“More! Don’t stop! Please, Dane, don’t stop.”

  He gave her what she begged for, and fire sparked to life in her veins, scorching everything in its path. Pressure built inside her, beginning between her legs...quickly spreading, building and building...