by Harloe Rae
“Would that be so bad?” I widen my legs to hide any inconvenient evidence. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so rash in my decision to shut down her suggestion earlier.
She dodges my question with a squint. “I liked you better as a straightforward asshole.”
The smirk I’d been successful in masking makes an appearance. “Unfortunately for you, I’m trying a different approach where you’re concerned.”
She folds her arms, pushing her breasts up for my viewing pleasure. “Should I scoot to the edge of my seat in anticipation?”
“Only if you’re planning to give me a glimpse at your panties.”
A flush blazes up her slender neck. She flutters a hand over the red splotches. “You’re really dirty.”
“I’m discovering that’s your influence on me.” And I’m looking forward to exploring these carnal desires with her.
Vannah bites her lip, the plump flesh ripe for the sucking. The fact that she’s not shying away leaves the door open for further conversation, if I’m willing. Talking isn’t a chore, but every interaction with her creates bigger problems. Even so, I’m reluctant to demolish that sparkle in her eyes, especially when it’s aimed at me. Humoring her not-so-subtle demand for idle chitchat isn’t much to ask. I can give her that. Once we land, all bets are off.
As if hearing my internal debate, Vannah clears her throat. “Is this a common occurrence for you, Lannie?”
My fantasies run wild with possibilities. It’s in my best interest to seek clarification before she slams a wall down. “Care to be more specific?”
She waves a loose wrist at our surroundings. “Whisk women away from their normalcy and lavish them in the finer things?”
“No.”
“Forthcoming as ever,” she mutters.
“Elaborating isn’t necessary.”
Vannah twists her mouth in a disapproving pout. “I could use more information in this case. Why am I here, on this ritzy jet, with you?”
“I’m trying to steal you from under Vince’s thumb.” Honesty is the best policy and all that.
She bursts out laughing, but sobers when my expression remains stoic. “I sure hope not.”
“Your talents are being wasted,” I reason.
“According to you.”
“Contrary to your low opinion of me, I’m rather good at what I do.”
Her glare could spit nails. Snuffing that sweetness from her took less than five minutes. “Be that as it may, I’m not leaving Brogen Realty.”
“Yet,” I counter.
Red hair whips at her arms when she disagrees. Again. “Not until I choose to do so for reasons that won’t involve you.”
“All right, sugar.” I steeple my fingers while staring at her with blatant scrutiny. “I have plenty to keep you busy in the meantime. Meeting my demands requires dedication and commitment, which aren’t always easy to gain. Research proves that a person’s performance significantly improves when given incentives and positive reinforcement.”
The green in Vannah’s eyes brightens with a shrewd gleam. “Am I expected to believe you do this for all your contracted services?”
“Are you always this skeptical?”
“That’s something you bring out in me.”
Clever vixen.
The burn reignites in my bloodstream. Her sass might as well be a prescribed aphrodisiac. “It’s not special treatment, Savannah. It’s expected that I host a night on the town for my visiting associates. Do you have a complex?”
“Only because you’re giving me one.” Her potent energy zaps toward me like a live wire.
The urge to throttle her, at least mentally, flexes my muscles. “I’ll try to improve that for your sake.”
“We should start a club.” She’s looking out the window while addressing me.
I wonder what she’s picturing. Maybe my head impaled on a spike. “Are we in elementary school?”
“Don’t be rude.” Her scold is emphasized with a wrinkle of her freckled nose.
“I’m being honest. Isn’t that a quality you appreciate?”
Vannah huffs, but isn’t dissuaded from the silly notion. “Let’s call it The Haters Club.”
Indulging this nonsense might allow me back into her not-so-hateful graces. “Who else will we invite?”
She flicks her gaze at me. “Just us. Exclusive access.”
“That’s a concept I can get behind.”
“Just so we don’t forget where our allegiance stands.” Her expression reflects smug satisfaction.
“Is this additional security in case you fall for me? We might not be enemies forever, sugar.”
She scoffs, polishing off her mimosa. “Speak for yourself.”
“Now whose pants are at risk of being on fire?”
“Real funny.” Vannah laughs loud enough to shake the entire plane.
“That’s a requirement when bantering with you. I’m not trying to be a dick.”
“For once.”
“I spilled my guts about that woman we are never speaking about again.”
“That doesn’t absolve your prior transgressions.”
“You could give me a chance.” The grin I force probably resembles a drunk sneer.
The grit in her abrasive attitude fades with an extended sigh. “Fine. How long do you plan on corralling me in Chicago?”
“However long it takes.”
A groove dents the smooth skin between her brows. “That’s not vaguely disturbing or anything.”
“We have much to accomplish,” I remind.
“What’s first on the list?”
“I’ll bring you to my office.”
Vannah pretends to fall asleep, a loud snore shaking her upper body. “How thrilling.”
“Is there something you’d prefer?”
“I thought you were going to show me your city.” Her mocking tone doesn’t go unnoticed.
Maintaining a neutral balance is becoming much harder than the semi in my pants. “We could go to the opera or ballet. I’m not sure what shows are running on Broadway, but the theater is another option. Walt can book a private viewing at a museum or the Art Institute.”
“Walt?”
“My assistant.”
“Ah, right. I had the privilege of speaking with him last week.”
“He’s been informed to screen your calls moving forward.”
“Spoilsport.” She widens her eyes. “How about a sporting event? Is baseball in season?”
I can feel my upper lip curling. “Yes, it’s July.”
“Don’t take that patronizing tone with me.”
“That’s a hypocritical statement if I’ve ever heard one,” I drawl.
She brushes off my insult with a swat through the air. “Yeah, yeah. I’m a brat. What else is new?”
“That’s the gist of it.”
Vannah clenches her jaw. “Good one.”
“You’re the one suggesting we watch baseball together.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Are you serious?”
“I wouldn’t suggest it otherwise.”
“You’re a conundrum, Savannah Simons.” I comb through my hair. “And a real pain in my ass.”
“Thank you,” she coos. “So, you’re not a sports fan?”
A slow shrug is my initial response. “I’ll watch a game here or there as background static. If that’s what you insist on, I have several boxes at both stadiums.”
“But you just said—”
I hold up a palm. “They’re for company use. My employees take advantage quite regularly, I can assure you.”
“You’re talking about those swanky VIP suites?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, sugar.”
She makes a face at the nickname, but doesn’t comment on it further. “Those are luxurious. My dad had season tickets with two other firms for a few seasons years ago.”
“Ah, so you’ve seen it.”
“Not in Chicago,” Vannah clarifies.
“Let’s find something more suitable for both our tastes.” I could find much better uses for our time together. Most of them would probably send her running back to Minneapolis.
“Afraid we’ll end up on the kiss cam?”
I stare at her mouth, quiet for longer than she can sit still without fidgeting. “They won’t capture us in the suite.”
“Well, where’s the fun in that?” She puckers her lips in a distracting way. The last thing I need to be thinking about is drowning in her intoxicating warmth. “How about a tour from the river?”
The mention snatches my concentration for a minute. A vision of my father rolling in his grave shortly follows. He’d be preparing his backhand right about now if I dared to suggest such an insane idea. The visceral impact is comparable to a punch in the gut. I suck in a breath, covering the inhale with a cough.
Clarifying is most definitely needed in this instance. “One of those crowded boat cruises?”
Her head bobs. “Yeah, sure.”
“Absolutely not.” The snarl in my tone severs any possibility for arguing.
Vannah doesn’t listen, of course. “I think that would be a fun route to see the city.”
A sour gurgle churns in my stomach. “Once again, I find myself needing to inform you that our versions of fun differ significantly. I can arrange for a private yacht.”
She groans. “Are you dead set on throwing your money around?”
“That’s how I operate, Savannah. We’re not schlepping around on a rented rust-bucket.”
“Your white collar is glowing bright enough to blind me.”
I tug at the item in mention. “Good to know the bleach is doing its duty.”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s real nice.” She pops her lips. “We could go to the observation deck. That building with the glass floor.”
Her suggestion pings off my lacking interest with a clink.
“I already told you we’re going to my office. The view is far better from there.”
“You’re such a highbrow,” she mutters.
“Repeating it won’t make me feel guilty. I’m well aware. This might come as a shock to you, but my status is a symbol to relish in society.”
Vannah collapses against her chair with a huff. “Well, your wealth doesn’t impress me.”
“If I take you to Navy Pier, will that put an end to this misplaced ridicule?”
She gasps. “You’d be willing to lower your standards and be caught in the trenches with the common folk? Think about what this could do to your pristine reputation.”
And the taunting continues. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
“Don’t you have any regular hobbies?”
“Making money.”
She smacks a palm to her forehead. “There has to be something else you’re interested in.”
A dry chuckle escapes me at her dramatics. “I’m a billionaire at the age of twenty-nine. What do you think?”
“Cocky bastard.” She taps her lips. “How about collections? Oh! A hidden library that will make me have a spontaneous orgasm?”
“I certainly want to install one now. My home would bore you, I’m afraid. I’m not there often enough to make it more hospitable for guests.”
Vannah studies me for a quiet moment. “Do you ever get lonely, Lannie?”
If we were on the ground, I’d be searching for left field. “Quite the opposite. There are people constantly hovering too close for my comfort.”
“But those are business relationships. What about your personal life?”
“I have friends.” The defense is completely unnecessary, much like her question to begin with.
“Jordan and Brance?” She seems to hold her breath while waiting for me to respond.
“No, absolutely not.” The mere idea is comical enough to earn a genuine laugh. But coming up with people who aren’t directly related to my company is comparable to a blank slate. I shove the odd sensation sloshing in my stomach. “I’ll introduce you to plenty at an event we’re attending tonight.”
“More superficial acquaintances?”
“It’s expected to have friends at work, Savannah.” The scold rings in my voice.
“When do you go out for pure entertainment?”
I lower my brows. “I’m beginning to feel attacked.”
Vannah has enough respect to recoil. “That’s not my intention. I’m just trying to understand you.”
“Good luck with that. You can’t comprehend what you’re not willing to learn.” Condescension drips from my tongue.
“Now who’s being judged?”
I pick some imaginary lint from my suit jacket. “Turnabout is only fair in this situation.”
“There’s nothing fair between us.” Her contempt for me is unjustified.
“Work is my purpose. I have no qualms about that. My life isn’t lacking. Don’t assume I’m unhappy just because you would make different choices.”
Her shoulders stoop. “You’re right. I apologize.”
The pressure eases somewhat. “That almost sounds like you mean it.”
“I do,” she states with smacking conviction. “If you’re offering, I should take advantage. Wine and dine me to the extreme, Lannie. I want the platinum version.”
A calm descends with her concession. I celebrate with a victory smirk. “Then it will be yours.”
The thump from our landing is still screwing with my equilibrium when Landon hustles me off the plane. He escorts me from the hanger to a waiting town car, blocking the top of my head from bumping the frame. I could almost call him considerate.
He serves me champagne with a strawberry slice on the rim. His focus is riveted on my every move as we’re chauffeured through downtown. Our conversation had tapered off prior to exiting the jet. The quiet swirls around us in a comfortable lull. The promise of what he’s planning for us settles on my chest with soothing warmth. A girl has to collect some serious willpower to resist caving against this fairytale treatment. It’s all for show, though. I’m more than well aware of that fact.
We don’t stop at my hotel. Forget freshening up a touch. Landon hauls my ass straight to his office. People turn to gape at us as we stride across the sprawling lobby. His attention never wavers from the elevator bank straight ahead. He enters a code for us to access the top floor. The ride up is silent, but I don’t feel the need to intrude on our contemplative bubble.
When the doors slide open, more serenity greets us. The room is a mixture of light and dark. Pristine white walls swallow us as we step out into the vast area. Black hardwood gleams from beneath our feet. Furniture and fixtures are arranged sparingly for a simplistic layout. A few stragglers bustle about across the elegant space.
As if hearing my thoughts, Landon fills in the gaps. “This entire level is reserved for me. Only approved staff are allowed up here.”
“More privacy,” I muse while he guides me to the left.
“Precisely.” His murmur ghosts along my neck.
A man about my age, maybe a few years younger, leaps up from his seat behind a polished desk. “Good morning, Ms. Simons.” His fumbling ceases as he straightens to address his boss. “Sir.”
I almost falter at his greeting. A glance at a nearby clock confirms his choice. It’s odd to consider how much we’ve already accomplished before noon. Efficiency has many forms, it seems.
Landon offers a sharp nod while keeping our brisk pace. “Walt.”
“Hello.” I give a jolly finger wave. “It’s nice to put a face to the voice.”
A tiny smile ticks a corner of his mouth. “Likewise.”
“We are not to be disturbed.” They exchange a glance that I assume conveys more authority than Landon’s harsh tone.
“Understood,” Walt says as we pass.
“I’ll buzz when we’re ready for lunch. We’ll be ordering in.” The demand rolls from his tongue with practiced ease.
His assistant sits and begins typing at rapid speed. �
�Got it.”
Landon steers me into an enormous corner office. The massive room would be more appropriately termed a suite. Windows cover two walls from floor to ceiling. My feet automatically take me to the center point. I press my hands flat to the glass, absorbing the cityscape spreading in each direction.
His footsteps clip just behind me, announcing his approach. “What do you think?”
“The view is incredible.” And it truly is. The river and lake are both visible, highlighting the crowded metropolis far below.
“Do you believe me now?” There’s no missing his cocky lilt.
I roll my eyes at the mesmerizing scene. “This is just one thing.”
He erases another foot separating us. “Would you be interested in receiving a preview of what’s to come?”
“An advance perk? I agreed to go along with your flow.”
Landon’s hidden meaning doesn’t register until he presses against me, eliminating the distance between our bodies. “I was hoping you’d be open to exploring more secretive avenues.”
I startle at his touch. “Someone’s being forward this morning.”
His hand remains planted on my hip. “Too much?”
“That depends on how far you’re expecting to go.”
“You wanted the full package deal.”
“I wasn’t aware that sexual favors are listed on the menu.”
“You can come in my mouth purely for the sake of accepting release.”
When he puts these seductively charged phrases so eloquently, it’s hard to resist. What’s the real harm in letting him kneel before me and worship my body? It’s difficult to conjure any objections to the arousing visual that creates.
“That does sound appealing.” Am I really considering this? Yes, I sure am.
“Just a taste.” He rocks his hardening length against my ass.
I turn in his hold, looping my arms around his neck. “Keep talking.”
Landon traces a path down my cheek with his nose, inhaling along the way. “I want to feel you fall apart on my tongue.”
A knot gets stuck in my throat at the picture he’s describing. I swallow the smoke rising from my pebbling skin. Landon might be the villain in this story, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy an orgasm or two. Accepting pleasure from him isn’t surrendering. Rules and boundaries don’t need to be slapped down. We’ve already blurred the lines. Another nibble won’t hurt me.