Desire Me

by Kayla C. Oliver

  The older man left quickly, setting off the bell at the top of the door as he stepped out. The younger one, on the other hand, was walking backwards, his blue eyes still on me, watching my every movement.

  I could feel my cheeks burning up; the back of my neck hot under his steady gaze. My lips felt dry; there were goosebumps on my arms. The longer he looked at me, with his perfect bone structure and totally kissable lips, the more agitated I got. The mixed emotions of being annoyed with his attitude and at the same time being filled with desire for a man with the most delicious body had overwhelmed my mind.

  “Rhett Larkin, nice to make your acquaintance,” he said, just as he was about to step out. I straightened my back and breathed harshly out of my nose.

  “I’m glad I know your name now. You’re not welcome here again,” I said, loud enough for everyone else to hear. Especially my employees, Lucia and Sophie, who were standing huddled together in one of the corners. Judging by everyone’s behavior, scenes like these didn’t often take place in a small place like Brunswick.

  The man named Rhett finally left, and even after he had shut the door behind him, I followed him with my eyes. An unexpected sense of disappointment settled in the pit of my stomach when he didn’t turn to look at me. Chatter suddenly erupted in the café. People were talking in hushed voices, still looking out to see if they could see the two men.

  “They were just sitting there having coffee and then suddenly got up and Mr. Larkin grabbed the other man by his collar,” Lucia had come up to me and was talking really quickly now. Her cheeks were flushed, and when Sophie joined us, I could see her eyes looked bedazzled as well.

  “Mr. Larkin? You make it sound like you know him,” I said to Lucia, as I grabbed the uniform apron from the counter and started tying it around my waist. It was time to get back to work. Lucia and Sophie exchanged looks, and I caught that. They were both blushing now, biting their lower lips, on the verge of breaking into giggles.

  “Everyone knows Mr. Larkin. I’m sure he had good reason for his behavior,” Sophie said and I looked at them, confusion marring my face. Other than the fact that Rhett Larkin was extremely good looking, why were these girls on his side? When earlier, I could clearly see that he had scared them silly.

  “Who is this guy?” I asked, trying to sound uninterested.

  “Rhett Larkin. He’s one of the three partners of C Scape, the shipping company. They are the youngest billionaires in Georgia,” Lucia said, giggling openly now, because she couldn’t believe I had no idea who he was.

  Chapter Two

  Rhett

  I couldn’t get that woman out of my head. I didn’t even know her name, but she had left a stirring impression on me. She had fiery, strawberry blond hair that fell in tight curls around her face. Her eyes were large and green and she had a look on her face that told me she wouldn’t shy away from kicking me out physically from her café if she had to.

  I was thinking of her as I walked back to my office when instead of that woman, I should have been thinking about Massimo and what I was going to do about him. I knew he was going to be trouble the moment he sat down at the table, and I had never intended to make a scene in such a public place. I had a reputation, a carefully crafted reputation; one that I had to uphold. I didn’t even think that he would just suddenly turn up in Brunswick although I should have expected it all along. Now that C Scape was in the limelight and I had recently been interviewed by Fortune Magazine, it was no surprise that Massimo would find his way here.

  It was just that I thought I’d left Brooklyn behind.

  “Mr. Larkin, you’ve had three phone calls…” Maria jumped off her chair at the reception desk when I entered the lobby of my office building.

  “Not now Maria.” I waved a hand at her and rushed towards the elevators. I needed to clear my head, and find a way to stop thinking about that woman from the café, so I could concentrate my energy on how I was going to handle Massimo.

  “But Mr. Larkin…” Maria stopped in her tracks in front of the elevator doors when I stepped in. She was clutching sheets of paper from her notepad with caller-information written on them.

  “Thank you Maria,” I said, as the doors closed and separated us. I was in no state to deal with clients or business calls at the moment.

  I ran a hand through my hair and shook my head as the elevator took me up to the top floor. I shared the floor with my two other business partners, who were also my best friends.

  When the elevator doors pinged open and I stepped out, I saw Hunter walking towards me, followed by his Personal Assistant at his heels.

  “Rhett! Just the man I was looking for. We need to sit down and discuss the Wilson account today,” Hunter said, in his usual booming, charismatic voice.

  “Not today, man. Can we talk tomorrow?” I asked him, passing by him quickly. I saw the look of surprise on Hunter’s face because he would have detected that I was troubled.

  “Rhett? Do you need something?” he asked but I had already reached the door of my office.

  “Tomorrow, Hunter. Let’s talk tomorrow,” I said and pushed open my office door and locked myself in. I didn’t want Hunter or Owen to know about what was going on. Not that I didn’t trust them. We were best friends, brothers almost…I knew they would help. I didn’t want them to find out because I didn’t want them worrying about how Massimo could affect our business.

  This was my problem and I was going to deal with it myself. I had managed for all these years and I would just have to find a way to do it again.

  For now, I needed to clear my mind by thinking about the woman from the café less and focusing on the problem at hand. But I couldn’t. It was like she had taken complete control over me. I felt an instant sexual spark the moment I turned to look at her. It was more than just that she was beautiful, her personality shone through her eyes. And neither did she seem like an easy catch. She was going to be difficult to pin down and just the thought of winning her over made my muscles stiffen. I was turned on.

  This was no time to be fantasizing about a woman I didn’t know, who would probably see right through me if I tried to even talk to her. I walked over to my oak desk and gripped the edges with both hands. What was Massimo going to do? I should have just beaten him to a pulp at the café when I had the chance.

  But I couldn’t, not when I saw her. Not when I saw the look in her eyes. I had to stop.

  What was happening to me? Since when did I care what a woman thought of me? I always knew what women thought of me. They saw a successful businessman, a self-made man in his late twenties. I was charming and exactly what any woman would want and I knew it. I made no show of hiding it either. Then why was I so concerned about this particular woman? As in, what was it about her, other than being a pretty face that had suddenly affected me like this?

  I gritted my teeth and growled a low, guttural growl. Massimo could completely ruin everything I had in my life, what I had built here and here I was, obsessing over a woman who probably despised me.

  I’d just have to do something about it. Because if there was something I knew I was good at, besides charming my way into wet panties, it was being able to fix my own problems. Once I’d dealt with her, I would be free to deal with Massimo.

  Chapter Three

  Heidi

  “See you tomorrow, Heidi,” Lucia waved to me as she left the café. I smiled and waved back. I then followed her to the door and locked it after she had stepped out.

  I usually stayed back in the café, for at least half an hour or longer just to tidy up after everyone had left. Sometimes I used the equipment to practice new recipes for the next day’s specials and sometimes I just made myself dinner and ate it in the kitchen. I didn’t mind any of that. I’d gotten used to the little routines in my life now.

  I grabbed a cloth from behind the counter and started dusting and wiping down the furniture. Sophie, who would be opening the café the next morning, would have to do it again but I liked to make sure t
hat the place was always spotless and sparkling.

  I sighed when I thought about the broken glasses and vase from that morning. I needed to be careful about my inventory as much as possible. Even though I was turning over a profit, my resources were still limited. I had to run a tight ship here daily, otherwise the money would soon turn into losses if I wasn’t careful. I was always watching what I was spending and operated on a strict budget. Besides all that, I was also hoping that I hadn’t lost any of my precious customers as a result of the scene that Rhett Larkin had caused.

  Rhett Larkin…just the thought of him made my cheeks flush to a deep red. I was embarrassed just thinking about him, even in the safety of my own company, because I knew what the truth was. That I was attracted to him, even though I pretended to be mad at him and which I should have been. I was also secretly fantasizing about him and I had spent the whole day doing that, which was wrong and completely against my own personality. I was usually reserved and aloof. I had slept with a sum total of two people in my life even though I was nearly pushing thirty now. Both of those guys had been serious boyfriends. I never made a decision that was not calculated or well thought out.

  One night stands with random, gorgeous strangers were completely out of the question. I was happy to be alone, happy to work towards professional success. A guy like Rhett Larkin therefore, never caught my attention because I was aware that men like him were aware of their good looks and used it to their advantage with women. I didn’t have time for that.

  I realized that I had been wiping the same table repeatedly in concentric circles for several minutes now. I’d been deeply engrossed in my confusion about Rhett Larkin and why I was still thinking about him. I was about to look up when I was startled by a loud knock on the glass door of the café.

  My hand flew to my heart and I nearly gasped as I looked up. I could see the shadow of someone standing at the door, probably peering in. The light outside was dim, and the café was dark because I liked to keep the lights switched off while I did my cleaning of the place.

  Leaving the cloth on the table I was wiping, I walked towards the door. As I got closer, with my heart thumping, I realized it was Rhett Larkin on the other side. He was standing with his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his dark jeans. He wasn’t peering in at all, but even in the dim light, through the glass walls of the café, he was following my every movement with his eyes.

  Just the sight of him sent chills down my spine and goosebumps prickled my skin. I stood on the other side of the door with my brows crossed and glaring at him.

  “Do you want to open up? Ms. McNeil,” I heard him say in a muffled voice. How did he know my name? I don’t remember giving it to him. I licked my lips and taking in a deep breath, I turned the key in the lock and swung the door open.

  “What are you doing here? I said you are not welcome back here again,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. This guy’s blue eyes were icy cold and dark, boring a hole into my forehead as he studied me. Just like before, he didn’t shy from gazing down at my breasts. I should have been offended, but there was something appreciative about his shameless staring. My cheeks flushed.

  “I wanted to come back here and apologize to you again,” he said, snapping me out of my thoughts of him.

  “You’ve apologized already and I didn’t call the cops. Isn’t that good enough for you?” I snapped at him. It was none of my concern that he was a billionaire like Lucia and Sophie said. He had behaved rowdily in my café and I wasn’t going to be afraid of telling him off.

  “You’re new around here, aren’t you, Ms. McNeil?” he asked and I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “What has that got to do with anything? Are you trying to threaten me?” I said, trying hard not to display just how flustered I was feeling inside. I was confused by this mix of emotions running through my veins.

  “Why would I want to threaten you? It was just a question, an innocent question,” he said and without invitation, stepped inside my café. Our bodies brushed gently together when he did that and I felt my skin sizzling. He was hot as Hell and I couldn’t seem to separate my feelings of being offended from how absolutely devastatingly handsome he was.

  “This is harassment, Mr. Larkin. You have to leave now!” I called out to him, from my position at the open door. Rhett Larkin was looking about him at the dark interior of the café and then he turned around to fix his blue gaze on me again.

  “I’m not harassing you, Heidi, I’m offering you money,” he said.

  Click below to purchase

  Touch Me, the first book of The Billionaire’s Secrets series

  Kiss Me the Second book of The Billionaire’s Secrets series

  Thrill Me the Third book of The Billionaire’s Secrets series

  Tease Me the Fourth book of The Billionaire’s Secrets series

  Signing Him (Bonus)

  Kayla C. Oliver

  Chapter One

  Marnie

  The office looked like an auditor’s in tax season. Papers were strewn across the desktop in what equated to confetti. Lights lined the creases in the wall where the roof met the walls, but I didn’t like using them. They were hollowed tubes of personality-lacking fluorescence. That was why I had a desk lamp, the kind that bent over the desk and had a green cover over the top, so that it illuminated only the length of the desk, not the person hunching over it. That would be me, Marnie McKenna. I had seen it when I was a kid at the public library, and after that, I was desperate to have my own.

  Some dreams do come true, I thought wryly as I propped my feet up on my cluttered desk. I crossed my ankles, pulling the heel of my right foot slightly off so that I could bounce it lightly by the tip of my toe.

  I wound the cord around my finger as I lounged back in my chair. Yes, I had an old phone. The kind with the curly cords that stretched and tangled as I walked around the office until I looked like I was a Christmas tree half-decorated. The cradle and the receiver were both designed to look old-timey. It wasn’t so far as rotary; I made too many calls to fuss with waiting for the damn wheel to spin back so I could dial again. But it looked fancy. All black with golden edges and sleek lines.

  Sexy, I thought.

  “I feel like they want to change the entire story!” Cathleen Darling burst out, her voice nasally and high-pitched over the phone. “Like I, the fucking author, have no creative freedom to speak of!”

  I nodded, though of course she couldn’t see me, and let her rant while I went over several options in my head. Cathleen Darling was an author. I was her editor. Officially, all my edits and revision suggestions went to the higher-ups, meaning sexy Dorian Desmond, but it was pretty rare that anyone said shit about my work. I was a badass editor, but more importantly, I was good with the clients.

  Desmond sent me the toughest clients, the biggest pains in the ass, and a workload that would’ve had most quitting by Christmas of their first year—or at least drowning their sorrows in a bottle of the good stuff.

  But not me. I was focused and a real brownnoser—in the best sense of the word. I knew how to please people and how to back them into a corner, fight or flight, and get what needed to be done. It was a gift I’d had since about third grade, when I shoved little Billy into the sand for picking on Court. At the time, it had gotten me into a lot of trouble with the teachers, parents, principals, everyone.

  Now, it served me well.

  “—signed a damn contract, but I’ll take my business elsewhere if they think they can just bully me like this,” Cathleen continued her rant.

  I imagined her puffing up like a little rooster trying to pick a fight. I snorted before I could help it and had to quickly turn it into a cough before Cathleen caught on that I was snickering at her. “Ahem. Sorry,” I apologized, then dove into my job—smoothing over difficult clients. “You know that I would never suggest anything to you that I didn’t think would do wonders for your already brilliant story.”

  Cathleen paused. I imagined her pouting,
her lower lip fat and her arms crossed. “Don’t think you can appease me with flattery,” she told me indignantly. “I’m an author. I have principles.”

  I rolled my eyes. Principles, yeah, right. You’d sell out if I gave you a goddamn turkey sandwich. “Of course you do, Cathy, sweetheart,” I told her in my sweetest voice. “That’s why we love you; that’s why you’re such a great author. You have power in your words, and I would never want to lose that.”

  “Then why did you cut my baby to ribbons!”

  I covered the mouthpiece of my phone so she wouldn’t hear my sigh of frustration. Cathleen did this every damn time I sent her manuscript back. She was the kind of author that thought her words were seamless, perfect, in need of absolutely zero editing to speak of. And every time she sent me something, I had to fix every little grammar mistake, cross out the shit that didn’t make sense, and point out the major plot holes or inconsistencies. For my trouble, I then got a phone call from her telling me that I’d destroyed her “baby.”

  She’d had about ten “babies” at this point, nine of them best sellers, and this one likely would be, too—if I could convince her to let me help her.

  “Cathy. Stop,” I ordered in a soothing but firm tone. It was all about tone with authors. “You know I love your book. I’ve loved all of them, that’s why I’m sticking with you, you know that.”

  That was a small, white lie. The truth was, Dorian had specifically assigned Cathy to me because she was a problem client and I dealt with problems. Go me.

  “But sometimes the world isn’t ready for genius,” I continued, leaning back a little farther in my plush chair. “Sometimes, you have to ease people into what they aren’t ready for. Think Vonnegut. Think Kafka. Hell, even Hemingway was misunderstood during his lifetime.”

  “You’re saying I should wait until I’m dead to be appreciated?” Cathleen deadpanned.