Power Play - A MFMMM Reverse Harem Billionaire Romance (You Can't Resist a Bad Boy Book 6)

by Layla Valentine

  I bite down on the inside of my lip to stop myself from screeching in frustration. With this kind of back and forth, I’m going to get nothing on Zach Garner. I’ll have to call Mr. Ford and tell him the article is a bust.

  “Look.” Ryan’s voice is softer, his eyes understanding. “I know none of this is what you want to hear, and you’re only doing your job…but Mr. Garner is a private person. Some people are. And just because someone is high profile doesn’t mean their privacy shouldn’t be respected. He spent years building up his company, not setting himself up to be media fodder. At the very least, he deserves the right to live removed from the bullshit of it all.”

  The words ring true. There’s no arguing with them.

  Unexpectedly, Ryan reaches over and presses the pause button on my recording app. “Now let’s get back to you.”

  “What?” I dazedly ask.

  “Are you from San Francisco?”

  “LA area.”

  “Ah. The Hollywood Hills?”

  “Pasadena,” I slowly answer. “Why are you asking me this?”

  “Isn’t this how it works? Quid pro quo. An even exchange. You ask me some questions, I ask you some.”

  “It’s not exactly even if you’re not giving me the information I need.”

  “Touché,” he smiles.

  I try to suppress my own grin, but it can’t be checked. This guy is getting to me. And is he…? No. He couldn’t be hitting on me. He’s probably just trying to divert attention away from his boss.

  “And this job,” Ryan continues, “Is it where you want to be? Do you see yourself always working at a local paper?”

  I know he’s probably just playing games, but maybe I can find some way to turn this to my advantage. If he lets down his guard enough, he might just let some crucial information on Mr. Garner slip.

  “I’d like to be at a bigger publication one day, obviously,” I answer.

  “Obviously,” he smiles.

  “Hey, the Tribune isn’t that bad. It’s not that small-time! We have readers out of the area.”

  “I didn’t say it was that bad,” I laugh.

  I purse my lips. He’s caught me in his web again.

  But, God, do I love it. When was the last time I met a man who was sharp and attractive?

  Never. That might actually be the honest answer.

  “And what do you do for fun?”

  I laugh. “This makes me feel like I’m filling out an online dating profile.”

  “Well, I was going to ask you about your sign next… What are you, Virgo? Aries?”

  “I’m not answering that one.”

  “Virgo.”

  “I like to go camping and hiking,” I answer, pointedly dodging the astrology question.

  His eyebrows rise. “You don’t say.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “And tell me…” He rests his arm on the edge of the bar and leans closer. His cologne wafts my way. Slightly spicy, but clean and agreeable. My temperature jumps up. “Who do you like to go camping with? Your boyfriend?”

  My heart nearly stops. He is flirting with me.

  My swallow is loud. “No. Unfortunately, my adventures in dating in San Francisco haven’t ended too well.”

  Ryan straightens up, his eyes still on me. “That’s too bad,” he says in a voice that makes it clear it’s not bad at all.

  “Uh-huh. Too bad,” I whisper, sounding like a caveman.

  “Have you ever been to Inspiration Point?”

  “I love Inspiration Point!”

  “The views…”

  “Yeah,” I eagerly nod. “They’re great. I’m always trying to get my friend Miranda to go with me there, but she works two jobs and hardly has the time.”

  “Maybe you should ask outside of your usual circle.”

  His eyes speak volumes. And maybe it’s the gin or the giddiness that comes with discovering an unexpected connection with someone, but I don’t feel nervous at all. Usually I let guys make the first move, waiting for them to call the shots and show me just how much they want me. But tonight I don’t feel that way. I feel brave—cocky, almost.

  But there’s still the story I came here for. I may be a 23-year-old romantic, but I’m a journalist first and foremost.

  “It’s too bad you’re busy as well,” I flirtatiously answer.

  “I don’t think I ever said that.”

  “You don’t have to. You work for Zach Garner.”

  He lifts his chin, gaze jumping across my face.

  “Let’s go grab some dinner.”

  “You’re not going to give it up that easily, huh?”

  He stands, wearing a smile dripping with confidence.

  “I have the sense you like me so much better because of that.”

  Like with almost everything else tonight, he’s right.

  Chapter 3

  It could be a piece about my own desperate search for a hard-to-pin-down subject… It could be about how Zach Garner puts other people between him and the rest of the world as a buffer…

  As Ryan and I walk toward the door of the tapas bar, potential new angles run through my head. It doesn’t look like I’m going to get any more information on Garner than I already have, so I’m just going to have to make do with what I’ve got. The fact that I’ve tried so hard and still come up short might in itself be interesting. Zach Garner’s ability to evade the public is no doubt compelling. As long as I can find the right approach to the article, I should be good.

  The night is perfect, the air balmy and the traffic on Lombard Street singing. Ryan turns to me, hands in his pockets.

  “What do you like for dinner? There’s a nice Thai place near here. There’s also a gastropub. Or we could go somewhere else.”

  He watches me, waiting for my response.

  For some reason, I’m not hungry at all. But I don’t want our time together to end. Even if I don’t get any more information on Ryan’s boss.

  “What would you like to do?” I ask.

  “You’re my guest.”

  “Your guest?” I flirtatiously ask. “I thought I was just someone your boss assigned you to distract.”

  Ryan smirks and looks down at the ground. When he looks back up, the lights from the street and restaurant fronts shine in his eyes. “Don’t you think we’re past that?” he huskily asks.

  The deep seductive quality of his voice makes…me…melt. I don’t know how my legs are still managing to hold me up.

  “There’s also my place.” He cocks his head at me. “Not to brag, but I’m a mean cook. I usually spend half the weekend in my kitchen.”

  “You live near here?”

  “Just a few blocks away.”

  “Really.”

  There’s no way I can say no to this. I may not be hungry, but I want to see this guy’s place, to get a taste of how he lives, to get…

  I can’t let my thoughts go any further. All I know is that my body is alert in a way it’s never been, my heart is fluttering, and the city around me has come to life. I don’t want this evening to end.

  “I would love to see your place.”

  His face is smooth, but the energy is there in his eyes. “Great. It’s right this way.”

  We walk around the corner and down a few streets, the journey ending at an apartment building with a doorman and giant potted plants outside.

  The lobby itself is equally posh. Everything is new, decorated in black and white. I surreptitiously check the place out as we enter the elevator. Ryan swipes his key fob.

  “Mr. Garner must like having you so close to the office,” I comment.

  “It has its perks.”

  The elevator numbers light up, continuing past ten and on. I wait for the ride to stop, but it’s not until we’re at the very top floor that it does. As the doors glide open, I inhale a surprised breath. We’re not in a hallway, but in the foyer of an apartment. Or, rather, the building’s penthouse.

  Beyond the foyer’s doorway, a living room cont
aining a whole wall of windows shows off a sparkling view of the city. To the left and the right, more rooms branch off. Though each room looks small, there seem to be plenty of them.

  Ryan lightly touches his hand against the small of my back as he walks by, and a tingle shoots through me.

  “Make yourself at home. Let me whip something up.”

  I don’t answer. I’m too busy checking out the walls of the living room. Ryan clearly has a taste for modern art, but there are no photographs of family or friends. The place is also immaculate, the few objects he owns in their special places and not a speck of dust to be found.

  “Would you care for another drink?” he calls from somewhere in the penthouse.

  “Sure,” I manage to call back. My throat isn’t working right. I’m not thinking about the article anymore, though. There’s only one thing on my mind. I know this is moving fast, that I only just met the guy, but I’m absolutely desperate to know what it would be like to have Ryan’s skin against mine.

  He enters the living room, two tumblers of golden brown liquid—presumably whiskey—in his hands. He offers me one, but I don’t take it.

  “I didn’t really want that,” I choke out.

  “Okay,” he slowly answers, setting the drinks on the nearby coffee table. “What would you like?”

  Now it’s really hard to talk. Electricity shoots through my fingers, and I’m starting to shake. I can’t take my eyes off of Ryan, though. The way he gazes down at me, an intensity like none I’ve ever experienced. No man has looked at me in such a…hungry way.

  Slowly, he steps forward and brushes some hair away from my face.

  “Now that I have you here, maybe I can properly ask you out.”

  I have to smile at that.

  “Ask me out to what?”

  He pretends to think about it.

  “I know this good tapas bar down the street. Or this good place to go hiking. It’s called Inspiration Point.”

  “Sold. Take me there.”

  “My pleasure.”

  His dimples crinkle as he smiles, and our eyes lock. The magnetic force pulling us together can’t be denied, and before I have a chance to process what’s happening, our faces are pushing together.

  His lips sweep across mine, soft and gentle. There’s hidden strength behind them, though, a glimmer of the power he possesses. Ryan’s hand drops to the back of my neck, and his other one presses into my back as we kiss.

  Sweetness like berries flows over my tongue and combines with the earthiness of his cologne to create a strong, heady scent. My head spins. I’m suddenly weightless. The way Ryan’s lips mess so perfectly against mine has the rest of the world floating away.

  I press against him, our hips knocking gently together. He responds by increasing the pressure of his hands, and I wrap my arms around his neck.

  My skirt is too tight, my blouse too restricting. I want to feel every inch of Ryan against me. Does every bit of his skin taste the same, or is each part subtly different?

  His tongue snakes across mine, and I open my mouth wide, accepting what’s turned into a hungry kiss. With one smooth move, he’s spun us around, and he’s walking us back. When he lands on a couch, he breaks the embrace and looks up at where I stand in front of him.

  “I really did want to cook you dinner, you know,” he says.

  He pauses, probably thinking it’s his duty to do the gentlemanly thing and tell me we don’t have to take things any further. I’m so far gone at this point, though, so desperate to experience the effects of his full attention, his attempts at being chivalrous don’t do anything for me.

  “Are you hungry?” I seductively ask, taking a step toward him. My heels ring in the silent room.

  “No,” he huskily answers.

  It’s the last bit of information I need. I’m on him like a hungry wolf, my tight skirt stretched to a nearly ripping point as I straddle his thighs. Ryan plants one hand on my knee and uses the other to pull my face closer to his. This new kiss is hungry, fevered.

  I splay my hands across his chest, relishing the heat filling my palms. As we kiss, his hands work their way lower and lower. They pause at the top of my waist, and I push my weight forward, meaning to show him that it is absolutely, perfectly all right for him to touch me anywhere he pleases.

  Ryan lets out a primal growl, and his tongue digs deeper into the back of my mouth. Fire spreads across my arms, down my back. A fever is taking me over, and I’m going to go insane if I don’t get what I need.

  Settling all of my weight against his lap, my mound brushes against the hard rock there. Ryan lets out another wild noise before deftly standing up and flipping me around.

  We’ve switched positions, with me sitting against the cushions and him getting onto his knees in front of me. His eyes stay on mine as he pushes my skirt up to my hips.

  My heart is thudding, and a bout of shyness comes over me. But as much as I want to look away, I can’t. There’s something about Ryan’s deft yet deliberate movements. It’s the way he lightly massages my thigh, taking his time going higher and staring me down. There’s a gentleness to his actions. He makes me want to give myself over to him completely.

  My pounding pulse has taken up residence between my legs, where wetness soaks through my panties. Ryan gently nudges the fabric to the side, and I arch my back as the fresh air hits the skin there.

  His face disappears between my thighs, and floods of pleasure shoot through me.

  I can’t help myself. I writhe under him, bucking my hips up at his face as I gasp. Both of his hands find mine, and our fingers intertwine. He holds my hands tight against the cushions, his grasp firm and sweet.

  There’s barely even time to think about how good Ryan is at this. I’m exploding with a fierceness, my fingers tightening around his as I cry out.

  Wearing a wicked grin, Ryan straightens up and stretches his arms above his head. I watch each of his movements, eager not to miss anything. I want him twice as much now, if that’s even possible.

  His eyes flit over me. “You probably hear this all the time, but wow… You’re gorgeous,” he breathes.

  My face warms. Despite the fact that I’m exposed in front of him, it’s a compliment that still gets to me.

  He offers his hand. “Want to see the master bedroom?”

  Giggling, I allow him to pull me to my feet and down the hallway going off from the living room. Just as I suspected, the penthouse is massive, with lots of small rooms off the hallway.

  That’s one more detail to add to my article. Zach Garner pays really well.

  There’s no time for any other thoughts, though, because we’re in the bedroom and Ryan is picking me up.

  I yelp in surprise as he deposits me on top of a desk. He’s against me fast, his lips on my neck and his hands in my hair. I can’t even keep my eyes open, his touch feels that good.

  Dropping my head to the side, I give him better access to my throat and fumble for his belt. It comes undone in record time, and Ryan momentarily pauses the frantic sucking on my throat to step out of his pants.

  Twisting his hands in my panties, he yanks those off as well and tosses them over his shoulder. His boxers drop, revealing his smooth, thick length. Off goes his shirt. Finally, he’s fully naked, the most perfect specimen ever of manhood standing in front of me.

  I’m already unbuttoning my blouse, eager to get rid of all my clothes. Ryan helps me, pulling the blouse and bra off and tossing them to the floor. Cupping my breast in one hand, he lowers his face and takes my nipple between his teeth. Unbelievable pleasure laced with a tinge of pain makes me drop my head back against the wall and groan.

  Ryan keeps sucking and twisting, alternating his attention between each breast. My need is getting even stronger, making me feel like I’m about to scream.

  Wrapping my legs around his back, I pull his hips closer to mine. His hot length pushes dangerously close to my opening, and I twitch from need.

  But still Ryan takes his t
ime. Wearing that sexy smirk, he takes a step back and rifles in the desk drawer before pulling out a condom and rolling it over his shaft. I start to take off my red heels, but he stops me with a hand on my ankle.

  “Keep those on,” he commands. “I like them.”

  I obediently nod. When slipping on these heels this morning, the last thing I thought was that my day would end this way. I used to suspect anything red was my lucky charm. Now I absolutely know that’s the case.

  His heated gaze on my face, Ryan takes the base of his length and guides it against my opening. I give against the pressure, my body eagerly stretching to accept him. Slowly, he slides in, widening and filling me up.

  Shivering in pleasure, I cling to his shoulders. His ripped muscles move beneath my fingers as he leisurely pumps in and out, taking his time and claiming every inch of my channel.

  The ecstasy is already building in me, each swift jerk of his hips taking me higher.

  Seizing my calves, Ryan holds my legs up. I’m on display, my red heels high in the air and my pencil skirt still bunched around my waist. There’s not a shred of self-consciousness left in me, though. I’m gone, lost in a place where there’s only Ryan, me, and these animal desires.

  His gaze bores into mine as he drives into me. It’s too much to handle, too intense. I have to look away, but I can’t. Sweat rolls down Ryan’s temples, neck, and chest. I reach over and trail my fingers through it. At his pecs I hesitate, but then tug slightly at the pert nipple there.

  Ryan speeds it up, pounding into me faster and faster. My back hits the wall, and my legs bounce in his hands. I explode, euphoria taking me over.

  I’ve barely come down from my high when Ryan is picking me up again and carrying me over to the bed. He sets me on the edge of it, and I stay on my hands and knees, arching my back and showing that I’m ready for him. I think I know what he wants, and I’m more than happy to give it to him.

  Taking a handful of my hair, which was so perfectly styled in a low bun this morning but has by now come completely undone, Ryan gets onto his knees on the bed and enters me from behind.

  I brace myself, not sure how rough this is going to be, but he’s amazingly gentle. He’s giving me just what I crave all over again, methodically stroking over my sweet spot. I push my hips back, hungry for more. Ryan responds by pulling my hair a little harder.