Irresistibly Undeniable

by Zoey Derrick

  I wait until my coffee is ready before tossing my phone back into my bag after waiting for a reply that never comes. I grab my coffee off the counter and leave out the same door I came in. There’s a second door that leads to the building across from mine. My office building is directly across the street and Starbucks is close to a crosswalk that was added with the light rail and I head for it, waiting for the lights to switch over. I hear my phone chime again and I’m sure it’s Becca, but not wanting to get anymore worked up than I already am, I ignore it.

  Once I’m across the street, I find a bench and set my bag down. I swap my walking shoes for my heels. They’re black, pointed at the toes. My favorite, most comfortable pair and I usually wear them for special occasions, so a new job called for them. I slip my walking shoes into the little bag I keep in there to keep the grime off of everything else and I see my phone. Dyson’s name is flashing on the screen and the ringing finally reaches my ears. I reach in, grabbing it, and I hit the green button and put it to my ear. “Morning,” I practically moan into it. “Just the voice I wanted to hear.”

  “How about the face you wanted to see?” he chuckles.

  “Oh my god, are you home?” I smile wide, despite being on the phone.

  “No, I’m outside your apartment.”

  “Well, that sucks,” I groan.

  “Why?”

  “Uh, I’m already standing outside the building, I take the train, remember?”

  “Shit,” he groans into the phone.

  “Guess you’re gonna have to be quicker next time,” I tease.

  “I should’ve told you I was flying back early.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll see you in the office, won’t I?”

  “Maybe. I’ve got a lot of stuff to do today. I need to catch up and finish a few things from New York.”

  “Then what about tonight? Dinner?” I ask, surprised by my own forwardness with him. I’m not usually so forward, but something about this last weekend makes me feel like it’s truly my place to ask him things like this.

  “I’d like that,” he breathes into the phone and I hear the train horn through the phone. “What time will you be done?”

  “Erm…that’s a good question. I was told to be here at seven-thirty so security could get my badge for me. Then they told me to go up when I was done. So I’m assuming five. But can I text you when I know for sure?”

  “You better,” he tells me. “I miss you.”

  “Aw, I miss you too,” I tell him sweetly. “But I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

  “Okay.” His voice is a little happier than it was when I told him I wasn’t home.

  “Okay, I gotta go.”

  “Say it,” he breathes into the phone. If I’d been standing in front of him, it would have sounded sexy as hell, but through the phone, it sounds awful.

  “Okay, creepy breather dude.”

  He laughs on the other end of the phone and the line goes dead.

  I look at my phone. Becca has sent a string of messages and I bypass them all in favor of Dyson’s. Opening it, I type out one word.

  Dyson

  Chapter 47

  DYSON

  “Slip” - Elliot Moss

  My morning sucks.

  I flew back to Phoenix early, wanting to drive Ireland to her first day of work because I wanted to see her and wish her good luck in person and I missed her. The train ride from her apartment downtown isn’t all that long, but I should have known she would have left early. That’s the kind of woman she is.

  I’m buried up to my elbows in paperwork, emails, spreadsheets, all of it, but concentrating is impossible knowing she’s right downstairs. I already have an excuse to go down there. Wellington and I need to talk. At least, we will.

  I’m about to call out to my secretary to order some lunch when Charlie and Mick walk into my office. “Well, this is odd,” I mutter. “What are you two doing here? I thought we were meeting Thursday?”

  “There’s a problem,” Charlie states deadpan. A problem coming from my lawyer and advisor is hardly a good sign.

  I close the door behind them and with the flip of the switch turn the glass opaque. “I’m all ears.”

  “What do you know about Ireland?”

  I sit in a chair opposite them as they sit on the couch across from me. Charlie has a thick folder in his hand and Mick has brought his messenger bag. This is not good.

  “I sort of grew up with her from when I was about eleven until I was seventeen. After that I moved to Atlanta and I didn’t see her again until two weeks ago. Why, what is it the two of you are not telling me?”

  “I can’t tell you anything, really,” Mick says.

  “Well then, why the fuck are you here?” I snap, my irritation growing at the two of them and I want to smash their heads together.

  “Let’s just say you’re not the only one looking for Ireland McKidd.” Mick’s voice is hesitant.

  “Fuck, Mick, what the ever loving hell?”

  He puts his hands up. “I’m bound to secrecy until I speak with Ms. McKidd.”

  “He’s right,” Charlie cuts in. “It’s a long standing contract and violation of it means more than you can even afford to pay.”

  “So then, why are you here?” My stare grows hard as I look at Mick. We have a mutual connection, though I can’t fathom what the hell that connection has to do with this, but something tells me it does.

  “What do you know about her father?” Mick asks me.

  “Nothing,” I say, exasperated. “He wasn’t around when I met Ireland, her mother, and her brother. I just know he was gone. From the way they talked about him, he’s dead.”

  I watch both men carefully as they look at each other. They more or less shrug and let it go. “Do I need to call her up here?” I ask. “She’s right downstairs.”

  “She’s working here?” Mick asks me. His tone tells me he’s shocked by this new development.

  “No, she’s working for Wellington, today’s her first day.” I stand up and head toward my sideboard. I need a fucking drink. These two are seriously pissing me the fuck off. “Is there anything you can tell me since you came all the way here to fucking play games with me?”

  “Her father isn’t dead,” Mick says and I nearly drop my glass as I turn around to glare at him.

  “What does that mean, exactly?”

  “It means exactly that. He’s not dead, but I highly doubt she has any clue who he is.”

  “Yeah, because that clears shit up.” I let my mind wander a moment and curiosity burns hot when I realize neither one of them have brought up Dusty. “What about Dusty? Why don’t you want to talk to him?”

  “Because he is her half-brother.”

  “Fuck. Does she know this?”

  They both shake their heads. “Not that we can tell. I don’t think either one of them know anything. But her mother’s death has opened a can of worms we need to work on closing up as soon as possible and I still have a mountain of investigating to do.” Mick looks at me, pleading with me to let this go. Telling me, without actually saying anything, he regrets coming here to interrogate me.

  “Well, if you don’t want her up here now, when?”

  “Give me ‘til Thursday?” he asks. “I will already be here to handle your situation with her, so let me get my ducks in a row. I will be here Thursday and with her permission, we will fill you in as well.”

  “Mick, if you didn’t know where all the bodies are buried, I’d fucking fire you for this,” I tell him with a glare.

  “Understood. But you don’t have anywhere near the amount of bodies piling up that I do. So let’s just let this go.” I give him a hard stare. “For now,” he tacks on.

  I pull a deep breath into my lungs and let it out before closing my eyes and nodding. “I don’t like being kept in the dark.”

  “We know,” Charlie pipes up. “But you need to understand that the ramifications of this fuck up will cost all of us more than we’re capable of givin
g.”

  “Tell me one thing; is she a mobster’s daughter or something like that?”

  “No, more legitimate and legal than that,” Mick states sincerely.

  “Fine,” I huff. “Anything else, gentlemen?” My irritation with both of them is through the roof and I don’t even know why I’m so fucking pissed off.

  Chapter 48

  IRELAND

  “Still Falling For You” - Elle Goulding

  By one o’clock, I am famished and my first day is nearly over, but it’s been an amazing first day. I spent a good portion of the morning with human resources going over things that couldn’t be discussed until today and I have a mountain of shit to look at when I can find some free time out of the office.

  I’d gotten around to looking at Becca’s text messages, there were four of them. First, she started off pissed, blaming me for not being around for her since I ran into Dyson and that eventually led to an apology. She wants to get together for dinner and it’s killing me to tell her I already have plans. But with Becca, she’s usually happy with an alternative.

  Ireland: I have plans tonight, sorry, made them over the weekend, but we can do lunch anytime this week (tho I only have an hour) or we can have dinner Wednesday night?

  Becca: It’s okay, I got called into work for tonight, Wed is fine.

  Ireland: going out or staying in.

  Becca: Will you make chili?

  Ireland: Sure. I’ll put it in before I leave for work.

  I don’t get a reply, so I text Dyson.

  Off work at five.

  His reply comes quickly:

  Good, I will meet you in the lobby.

  Ireland: Why don’t I just come to your office? Apparently I have a very special elevator keycard.

  Dyson: Don’t know what you’re talking about.

  Ireland: Are you always this controlling?

  Dyson: Always.

  Ireland: Figures.

  Dyson: I can’t help it. I want you to be able to come up to my office anytime you wish.

  Ireland: How about now?

  Dyson: What are you wearing?

  I laugh, but reply without thinking.

  Pantsuit.

  Dyson: Get up here, now.

  Ireland: Okay, Mr. Crazy Control Freak.

  Dyson: Say my name.

  I step into the elevator and smile down at my phone as I’m pulled up a few floors to the penthouse level and the elevator opens. The office is very white, with black and silver accents everywhere. Tile floors with silver desks. The receptionist greets me, “Can I help you?”

  “Ireland McKidd for Mr. Cole,” I tell her smoothly.

  “Go on back, follow the hallway.” She points to my left, her right, and I nod a thanks. My heels click across the tile floor and the room is eerily quiet. The last thing I want to do is trip or slip because everyone will hear. Once I’m around the corner, I pick up my pace a little bit. As soon as my feet hit dark grey carpet I come to another open area.

  “Ms. McKidd, Mr. Cole is expecting you.”

  A tall, lanky, yet not at all unattractive man greets me. “Uh, thank you,” I say, surprised by the fact he knows who I am. He comes around the desk and ushers me toward a solid black glass wall and the door opens. I expect Dyson to step out, but there is no one there. I step inside his office. It’s the same décor as the rest of the office, only this one has more black in the furniture, giving it a very contemporary yet powerful feel.

  My eyes roam around the room until they meet a pair of blue-violet eyes staring at me. His eyes roam up and down my body and just the fact that he has his eyes on me is making me wet and my skin heats. He’s got his suit jacket off, the Dyson standard vest on and his sleeves are rolled up. His tie is still pristine and perfect. My mouth waters as I watch him talk on the phone.

  “Fine, no, I have to go. I have more important matters in my office. Thank you.” He hangs up and stares at me like I’m his last meal. There is a clicking behind me followed by a gentle whirling sound and I turn just enough to see the door closing. I look back at him as a click slides a lock home in the door. “How long do you have?”

  I look down at my phone, it’s one fifteen. “Forty-five minutes.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  I shake my head. “I was gonna go across the street and grab a bite.”

  He stands up and I get the full Dyson effect when I can see, despite the rolled up sleeves, he’s every bit the CEO I met downstairs a couple weeks ago – sans jacket. The only real difference is his eyes are no longer angry. They’re full of hunger and desire and they are ravaging my body as he approaches me.

  Chapter 49

  Ireland

  “Fumbling Toward Ecstasy” - Sarah McLachlin

  “I have to go back to work,” I remind him and I put my hand up, but he doesn’t stop, and I don’t want him too. The hunger in his eyes is setting my insides on fire.

  “And?” He wiggles his eyebrows and I giggle.

  “And, I don’t need to look like I’ve just had sex in the boss’s office.”

  He smirks, “But I’m not your boss.”

  “Technically. But I am assigned to a Tigress project.”

  “I’d rather you be assigned to me, personally.” He takes my face in his hands and slides up close to me. Our bodies melt together. I breathe in through my nose and the scent that is all Dyson fogs up my brain and I know I’m going to give him whatever he’s after. “You look amazing.” His voice is soft, reverent and my heart skips a beat. “You should wear suits more often.” His lips brush against mine.

  “This is the only one I own,” I mutter.

  “We’re going to have to fix that. You’re all power and sex and more power. You wear them well.”

  “And you’re buttering me up so you can buy me more clothes, aren’t you?” I raise an eyebrow at him.

  He chuckles softly before claiming my lips with his. My body turns liquid at his touch and presses tighter against him. My brain short circuits and the only thing I can think about is having him between my legs. I pull back and ask, “So you missed me?”

  His soft, soundless laughter blows hot huffs of air across my face. “You have no idea and I can’t wait until dinner. I need you now.”

  “We’re at work, Dyson.”

  “No, I’m at work, you’re on lunch. But you can keep saying my name.”

  His hands roam from my cheeks, down my neck to my shoulders where he hooks my jacket with his thumbs and he starts to slide it down my shoulders. The gentle warmth of his fingers sends goosebumps across my flesh and my nipples harden. He presses his erection into me, reminding me he wants this as much as I obviously seem to. He frees my hands from the jacket and I wrap them around his neck and pull his lips back to mine. My body ignites to the point of no return. The world around us falls away and it’s just him and me, alone, in a room, ready to tear each other’s clothes off. He releases me, steps back and gently lays my jacket over the back of one of the chairs.

  “As much as I want your perfect nipples in my mouth, I’m going to fuck you, bent over the couch, hard and fast.”

  My breathing hitches and my mouth falls slack. His eyes narrow, hooded and dangerous. My brain is on the fritz as I stare at his gorgeous face and watch him undo the fly of his slacks, pull his shirt out, and lowers his pants and boxer briefs to his knees. His cock is on full display and I lick my lips. The idea of Dyson fucking me while mostly dressed sends a new wave of desire straight to my core and my pussy clenches around nothing, desperate to feel him.

  I go for the hook and zipper of my pants, pulling my camisole from inside and revealing the white lace panties that match the bra I’m wearing and his eyes darken further.

  I step around the couch, so that I’m standing behind it, but then decide on something different entirely. Taking back a little control, I walk up to his desk and lower my pants as I lean over. My ass is on display for him, showing him my wet sex and he hisses. I smile and lower my head. The next thing I k
now, Dyson slams into me and I start to cry out, but stop.

  “Oh no, this room is soundproof.”

  “Oh fuck,” I groan when he slams back into me.

  “I like it when you say that word.” He pulls back and slams in again. My pussy clenches down and pleasure explodes in my body and I know this won’t take long. Not in the slightest.

  He grabs hold of my hips, holding tightly to my flesh as he guides me up and down his cock and my eyes roll up. My body starts to lock up, each thrust draws me closer. Sensing I need a little more, he releases one hip and brings his hand around to my clit. His fingers stroke me. “I’m so fucking close,” he breathes. “Come on, baby, give it to me.”

  Then he pinches my clit between his fingers and stars ignite behind my eyelids and my legs shake as my orgasm consumes me.

  “Oh, god!” he cries out and I feel him empty himself inside me.

  Dyson helped me off his desk and into the bathroom to clean up after our desktop tryst. But it doesn’t matter how long I stand here, the redness in my cheeks won’t go away. Giving up, I leave the bathroom with my camisole tucked in and my pants back where they belong. Opening the door, an aroma that makes my mouth water hits me. “That smells amazing.” There’s a spicy mix in the air that reminds me of Indian food. He’s sitting at the bar in his office. There is a small fridge, sink and a microwave. It’s hardly a kitchen but it’s set off, out of the line of sight from the door.

  “Come, eat.”

  “I’m not eating your lunch.” I reach for my jacket.

  “You don’t have time to go get anything else. Come on, there is plenty and I already made you a plate.” I roll my eyes but go sit next to him. It smells wonderful and I can’t help myself.

  I take a bite of the rice on my plate and my mouth explodes with wonderful flavors and a little spice. “Wow,” I say as I grab for the glass of water in front of me. “That’s amazing.”