Beholden (The Beguiling Bachelors Book 2)

by Madison Michael

  “You have an offer from Steel Frank, a solid offer.” Maria was completing a recap of all they had discussed. “The legal team proved that your existing contracts are tight enough that they will transfer to them as part of the acquisition. That, plus the existing copyrights and patents, sealed the deal. They are offering just shy of the full asking price and will retain about 80% of your consultant staff. Of course, there will be redundancies in administrative staff that cannot be helped. HI legal, HR and support staff will be hit hard and quickly, but Steel Frank will provide a one-month severance, which is generous under the circumstances.”

  “You and your father are out, I am afraid,” Randall chimed in now. “But I think you anticipated that.” Sloane nodded her agreement as Amy stepped in with a bottle of Dom Perignon. “Can we toast or do we need to wait on this?”

  “Oh no, pour me a glass please,” Sloane flashed Maria a completely relaxed smile, her first in months – out of bed at least. Maria excuse herself, and stepped into the hallway to meet with her assistant who delivered the final paperwork. Meanwhile, Randall noiselessly popped the cork, pouring with a flourish.

  “I dodged a bullet here, didn’t I?” Sloane asked, demanding honesty and watching his face to be sure she got it. “I was very lucky Steel Frank believed the contracts were good, and I know it. I saw clauses that would have allowed customers to walk. Steel Frank’s due diligence team might have determined that our long-term deals would not be binding after an acquisition.”

  “They could have, but they didn’t.”

  “No, they didn’t. I suspect you and Maria had something to do with that.” If Sloane expected Randall to offer information, he disappointed her, saying nothing further. The three spent the next ninety minutes reviewing contract language. Maria indicated the final terms showed no need for government involvement, and it was a cash deal so there were no contingencies. This would allow the deal to progress quickly, another reason to celebrate. They happily found reason after reason to sip the expensive champagne.

  “Except for the three clauses I noted, everything looks fantastic,” Sloane said finally. “As soon as the lawyers review everything and straighten out those three nits, I think we are set. I guess now I leave it to my lawyers, their lawyers and you and your wizard team of bankers, Maria. Randall, thank you so much for bringing in Maria. She was clearly the right woman for the job.”

  Sloane was beaming from ear to ear, speaking expressively, using her hands for emphasis, licking her lips, her eyes revealing so much of what she was thinking. Randall watched mesmerized, appreciating every little motion that made her Sloane.

  I am whipped. Totally whipped.

  Sloane took the last of her copies, tucked them in her bag and they stood and shook hands. The teams were set to meet beginning tomorrow to finalize everything and transfer the badly needed funds. The deal would be done within the week. It would be announced before the Gala.

  The three discussed where to celebrate and decided on Soho House. It was a perfect night for the rooftop bar. Sloane suspected they would know everyone at the West Loop location and either the party would grow with well-wishers as they learned about the deal before it went public, or they could be shunned, in which case the party would end before it started.

  Maria and Randall called LuAnn, Seth, Joanie and Alan since they had all worked on the deal. Maria included several others who had put a finger on the deal at some point along the way. They were already a party of twenty when they stepped under the stars on a perfect mid-June evening.

  There was a large seating area ready for them.

  “How did you do that?” she asked Randall as they were shown to an area that had been blocked off from the growing crowd.

  “Helps to know people in the right places,” he smiled cryptically. “I made a few very strategic phone calls.”

  The group settled around one corner, the fire pit ready for much later when it might need to take a chill out of the air. Regan joined them along with four individuals from her office. Champaign was ordered, cocktails for a select few.

  Sloane had met three of Regan’s companions before. She was delighted to accept the exuberant congratulations from Ethan and Martin, and Sloane knew one of the women, Astrid, Regan’s general counsel, a smart, funny woman who took her work seriously but knew how to party. Astrid, in typical lawyer fashion, gently reminded everyone to be careful about what they said and to keep their voices down. This deal would not be public for about forty-eight hours more and discretion was still important.

  The unknown, fourth person was a lovely woman with a short bob of dark hair that was full of coppery highlights, deep brown eyes and a golden tan Sloane envied. She was lean and leggy, reminding Sloane of a greyhound. Although not too tall, she was clearly not a gymnast, so Sloane figured her for a tennis player or maybe a runner. She introduced herself as Charlotte Roche, the LHRE Director of Finance, as of last week. With her thick Boston accent, Sloane had trouble understanding everything she said, but she liked her open smile immediately.

  Over the next hour, Alex joined them, saying hello to everyone. He had financed enough deals for him to know most of the people in the group and joined their conversations easily. Wyatt and Keeli arrived a while later. Wyatt plunged in immediately, kissing Sloane’s cheek and offering sincere congratulations while Keeli stayed on the outskirts of the group waiting to assure that she would be welcome.

  Randall watched the interaction carefully. He knew Wyatt noted Randall’s hand on the small of Sloane’s back as soon as he arrived, signaling to all that that they were together. Sloane followed Randall’s every movement like a flower following the sun. The combination indicated to all that she was with him. Randall made sure Wyatt understood all of that clearly. Alex nodded to Wyatt, confirming the lay of the land. With a big, approving grin, Wyatt nodded to Randall before he politely asked Sloane if she was comfortable with Keeli joining them.

  “The more the merrier,” Sloane responded, slightly tipsy and full of good will. “I love everyone tonight.”

  Keeli approached shyly after a sign from Wyatt, offered heartfelt congratulations to Sloane and quietly suggested they get to know each other better when Sloane had more time.

  “Oh honey, I have nothing but time.” Sloane gushed. “Call anytime. Really, it might be fun.”

  Keeli looked surprised by the answer but pleased. “I will do that, Sloane. It really might be fun.”

  The large assemblage drank champagne, ordered tons of food and enjoyed the pleasure of each other’s company until late into the evening. Men approached the group, hitting on women at the fringe of the party, and a few participants paired off and disappeared. Regan left early, claiming too much work, but her coworkers stayed. Sloane assumed Regan departed because Tyler was a no-show, but said nothing.

  The group expanded until around 10:00, then contracted until it was Alex and Charlotte, chatting with their heads close together; Maria, Ethan and Astrid, talking shop; and a tipsy Sloane, with her head resting on the solid shoulder of a surprisingly sober Randall.

  Clustered together around the fire pit they began a serious discussion about going in search of ice cream. They were comparing the relative merits of Margie’s versus Jeni’s versus Black Cow. They were checking their phones to see if any of the three were open late before they just abandoned the whole idea since Sloane was half asleep, propped up by Randall.

  “Hey sleepyhead, maybe I should get you to bed?”

  “I think you did that already, Neanderthal,” she giggled up into Randall’s indulgent face.

  “Are you drunk, Sloane Huyler?” Randall pretended to be shocked.

  “I am, sir, I am. The big question is why aren’t you?”

  “I am your errant knight, destined to assure you of a wonderful time and a safe arrival home. It is my job and my pleasure to see to your every need tonight, my Lady. To that end, I shall pay the check, get the car and tuck you safely into my bed.”

  With that, Randall help
ed her sit down without falling over, gestured an exaggerated bow and signaled for the check. He noticed with pleasure that she had not argued about going home with him, nor had she minded his unceasing attention. She had allowed him to place a hand on her back, around her shoulders or clasp her hand all night. He had staked his claim and she was on board with it.

  He handed the valet ticket to a passing waiter, tipping him heavily to take it down the valet, and then said their goodnights. Alex gave Randall a hearty pat on the back and a “way to go, man” before returning to his engrossing conversation with Charlotte.

  Once he had Sloane settled in the plush interior of his BMW, Randall leaned over, snapped her seat belt into place and gave her a slow, passionate kiss. She sighed with contentment as he pulled back from her and put the car in gear.

  “What a good time,” she mumbled. “Everyone was so nice. You did that for me, didn’t you? You made everyone accept me again.”

  “Sloane, you know these people. I cannot make them do anything they don’t want to do. They were nice to you because you were nice to them. And because they were genuinely happy for you.”

  “You believe that if it makes you happy, handsome, but we both know that they were kind to me because I was with you. You worked your hocus-pocus and I am very grateful.”

  “Is that what they call it now, hocus-pocus? I always called it hot sex, but what do I know?”

  Sloane laughed that tinkling laugh that he relished, rested her head back, closed her eyes and smiled while he drove the short distance to his River North townhouse where he pulled into his space in the underground garage. When he looked over again at Sloane he knew she was sleeping. Too much stress, too much champagne, too much partying and too much sex could do that to a woman.

  Wait a minute. Did I just say too much sex? There is no such thing.

  As if to prove his point, Randall leaned over and gave Sloane a hungry kiss, tongue probing the warmth of her mouth where the taste of champagne lingered. His hands roamed possessively over her body until they reached the bottom of her dress, which he lifted slowly.

  She was wide-awake now.

  “Stay just like that,” he dictated, stepping from the car and coming around to her side. He opened her door and swung her legs out of the car, allowing the dress to ride up further, following its hem with the pressure of his warm hands until they found the heat he was seeking. He slid her very damp panties down until they dangled from one foot, and then wrapped her long legs around his torso. He was wasting no time.

  I love how ready she is for me, all heat and warmth and woman. God, she turns me on!

  Tipping carefully to keep from hitting his head, Randall bent over Sloane, reclining her on the large seat and kissing her before she could voice a protest, which he feared she might in the public setting. He quickly undid his pants, pushing her hand away when she reached to assist him. He stood over her, hard as a rock and throbbing with need. Pulling her tight against him, he slid into her without preamble, thrusting hard, pulling back, then thrusting until he could go no further. She was so responsive that she turned him on even more until he feared he might not last long enough to pleasure her.

  His breath sounded like a freight train, her moans were anything but quiet. If anyone was in the garage, they were getting at least a reverberating sound show, if not more. He didn’t care. He could not get enough of Sloane. Her hands were scrabbling at the edges of the seat, trying to avoid hitting her head on the console while trying to provide the necessary counterthrusts.

  “Lift your arms,” he demanded as he yanked her dress over her head. Rather than protest, she did his bidding, even helping him with the resistant fabric until she was naked except her shoes. “Wrap your arms around my neck and hold on tight.”

  Once Sloane was holding him, securely, he shifted from the car taking her with him, never withdrawing from the heat of her body. He carried her to the front of the car and laid her across the hood, still warm from the engine. She released his neck to lay back on the metal reaching to grab what she could of the front grill as Randall propelled them both up the sleek surface. His mouth was everywhere - sucking her breasts until her nipples rose in taut peaks, nipping and tonguing them before sucking her entire breast hard into his mouth. When she could take no more of the sensation, he shifted to nuzzle into her neck - his hands hard against the hood of the car, his body moving relentlessly over hers, demanding her body’s sensuous response.

  Randall stilled, placing his finger against his lips. Between the moans and heavy breathing, he had heard the sound of heels clicking on the cement. They were not close, but he was not sure of the distance or direction of the noise. Sloane was still breathing hard, her gasps echoing in the open space, so Randall placed his mouth over hers and kissed her soundly while lying across her body to provide a modicum of modesty. They waited like that until the sound receded, when Randall began again as if nothing had happened. Sloane had a powerful orgasm almost instantly, pulsing insistently around him, crying out in pure pleasure.

  No longer able to care about a potential audience, Randall let go with a roar, spilling inside of Sloane until he had nothing left, falling across her body, wasted. He kissed the small shell of her ear, biting it gently before saying so softly it was barely more than a breath, “you drive me wild, woman.”

  Sloane started to laugh, a hearty, full-bodied laugh that shook Randall’s whole body, due to their position.

  “I cannot believe we just did that,” she repeated, laughing and peppering his face with kisses until she finally stopped, taking his face in her hands and holding him for a long, searing kiss. “That was crazy. We are crazy. That was utterly amazing, Randall. You are amazing.”

  “We are amazing.” Randall looked about him as if suddenly aware of their surroundings. “We are amazing, and you are very naked. Perhaps we should fix that?”

  “I am wearing shoes,” she corrected him in a saucy voice, showing off her Taryn Rose heels. She remained laying across the hood, kissing him repeatedly, apparently in no hurry to dress.

  Randall stood, tucked himself back into his pants and was immediately immaculate. He had not a hair out of place. He reached in the car for Sloane’s dress, turned it right side out, made a feeble attempt to smooth the wrinkles from it and handed it to her with an apologetic grin. She slid it over her head, while Randall picked her panties up from the garage floor and shoved them in his pocket.

  “A souvenir?”

  “Perhaps,” he responded evasively, but with an impish lift of one eyebrow.

  He removed his suit jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders, leaving his arm around her as they moved in unison toward the elevator. Alone in the car, he pushed her gently to the wall, leaned into her heavily and kissed her like she was water to a drowning man. He did not relent until they had moved to his door and he had to fumble for his keys.

  “I have never seen your place,” Sloane mentioned as he opened the door.

  “And you won’t see much now,” he bypassed the light switch and lifted her over his shoulder, in a fireman’s carry.

  Randall moved through his dark townhouse, pretending to gasp for breath when he carried her lithe body up the stairs to the second floor. She laughed at his silliness enjoying how comfortable they had become with each other. The mood turned serious, as Randall strode down the wide corridor, kicked back a door dramatically and dropped her into the middle of his bed. He quickly removed his clothes, again lifted the dress over her head and heard her kick her shoes to the floor. He was on her in seconds, like a teenager who could not get enough.

  “Spread your legs for me, Honey,” he told her even as his hands were moving to spread them himself. She felt his shoulders against the back of her knees and started to protest, but when she felt the rough of his beard on the inside of her thigh, her heartbeat quickened, the protest dying on her lips.

  “Randall, wait. A shower…”

  “Shh, I don’t care. Just lay back, Sloane.”

&nb
sp; Randall kissed his way up the inside of one thigh, rough fingers sliding up the other. She felt his hot breath against her curls and his fingers spreading her nether lips. He felt her take in a deep breath and hold it. She was taut with anticipation and desire.

  He waited for her exhale, waiting her out and allowing their anticipation to ratchet up further. Finally, he sank his face into the scent of their recent sex and ran his tongue along every sensitive inch of her, tasting her, tasting himself on her, feeling her tremble with desire.

  He made his tongue wide to touch as much of her as possible, and then switched it to tight and thin, allowing him to stab inside of her. Going back and forth between long licks and plunging jabs, he soon felt her writhing under him, unable to lie still, hips lifting to meet his every move. She had already had five orgasms today and was rapidly approaching her sixth, head swinging wildly from side to side, feet shifting along the covers restlessly, hands fisted in his hair holding him tight to her body as her need escalated.

  He briefly wished he had turned on the hall light. He wanted the illumination to watch her face when she came. She was a sight to behold then, this woman who worked so diligently to maintain control. She was stunning when she lost it. He was as enraptured knowing he could push her over the edge as he was with the actual feel of it.

  And it felt incredible.

  Sloane was pulling at his shoulders, trying to encourage him to move up her body and slide deep inside her. She was trying to control the situation to get what she craved. He was tempted, briefly, to give in to her but he resisted, aware that the more he teased, the more intense her eventual response would be.

  In playing this game of cat and mouse, he discovered his forte. He had greater sexual control than she. He could hold out for an orgasm much longer. When Sloane wanted release from her wild desire, she demanded anything and everything that would get her over the edge.