“I’m the CEO of Sandstone Ventures and you will listen to what I say!” Mark hisses. His tie is hanging open around his neck and his top button is undone. I can tell he’s had a tough day and I’m sure my tirade isn’t making it any nicer. But dammit, I worked too hard to let him do this to me.
“You’re only the President because I helped you get rid of your asshole brother so you can take the reins. And what do you do? What is your first act in charge?” I pick up his letter and fling it at him. “This!”
He dodges the letter and turns on me in a fury.
“Oh yes, Julia. You were such a help in saving my company. What did you do? Get arrested not once but twice? Tip off Blake and everyone else on the planet that we were trying to gather evidence and accuse me of fucking Valerie James! You were a big help.”
“You were fucking Valerie James,” I say completely losing sight of the fact we are fighting over the Wall Street story.
“In the past! Now, I’m fucking you!”
“Not anymore. No story, no fucky. Is that how you like it?”
“Look.” He turns, trying to be rational although for a moment there I thought I saw him give a quick smile. “I know those people. I work with them. I can’t be a party to their downfall. This story is bigger than me or you or Lynx or Sandstone. A lot of people are going to get hurt.”
“People who break the law and ruin people’s retirement accounts need to be hurt,” I counter almost catching my breath. “Besides, a magazine isn’t a charity.”
“Well you wouldn’t know a hell of a lot about charity, or grace, would you?”
“Get out. Get the fuck out of my office.”
“It isn’t your office. Not really. It’s Sandstone’s isn’t it? Or did you miss it when the judge said that?”
“Get out!” I scream and reach for the vase of flowers he sent me. I throw it and he turns just quick enough to block the shot with his shoulder, sending the vase careening into a bookshelf and shattering.
“That is it.” He’s got that look. He’s back in control again, and he’s about to take control of me.
Pressing and pushing me back toward the wall, he crowds and presses me until we are only about an inch apart. I feel his breath, his heart seems like it is pounding through his chest and when he traps my hands and holds me against the wall I lose all control.
He kisses me roughly, his lips pushing, surging, forcing his tongue between mine. I resist just long enough to realize I don’t want to resist. Wrapping my arms around him I kiss back as he drags me to the center of the room. He twirls me, pushing me hard, and strategically grabbing my arms until my desktop is all I see. His hand pushes me down hard against the desk, his other runs up my thigh, setting me ablaze.
“Sounds like you still need some lessons,” he growls, rubbing the back of my thighs. I reach back and pull up my skirt.
“Then teach me.” I’m unable to contain my desire, lifting my hips to afford him entry. If he thinks he’s taking me, he’s got another thing coming, I’m giving myself.
Yanking my panties down, I feel the head of his cock run up and down my nether lips a few times parting them just enough to reveal the wetness churning inside my core. He slowly inserts his tip into me, watching as my hips rock back and forth trying to pull him further and further inside me.
“Want it, huh?” He chuckles still keeping himself on the very inside of my opening, imprinting me with feelings of his presence and absence at the same time. It’s maddening.
“You know I do,” I manage to answer, trying once again to buck or come up with some movement that will bring him fully into me.
“Then have it.” He laughs as he plunges his cock deep inside me, parting my body like a hot knife through butter. I am instantly filled and skewered by his manhood and my mouth drops open in response to the overwhelming sensations. Not one to let me settle in, he starts thrusting, his rough, unhinged pounding taking over the rhythm of my pulse and pushing me up against the desk. The sound of his balls slapping against my skin echoes throughout the office and becomes the symphony of this hard ride.
I grip the side of my desk as I feel my body already clinching, wanting, and pulsing. I want to outlast him, I want control, I want to win this, I want…I want….I want…Oh god I want...
Shimmering spasms course throughout my entire body, as if the orgasm was actually coming through my spine and every nerve ending in my body was screaming in ecstasy. I shut my throat intending to keep this at least a silent ‘O’, but the sound tears through my resistance and a pleasing, soul charming gasp seems to leak out of my very throat.
My body goes limp underneath him and for a moment I think it’s because the orgasm has shattered every bone in my body and turned me to dust. Only then do I realize there is so much slack because he has experienced an explosion of his own, deep within me, and can barely hold himself up any longer, let alone me.
Mark leans over and kisses the back of my neck lovingly before staggering to the chair he pushed up against the wall. He manages to zip his pants on the way, and by the time I manage to pull my own undies up and slowly move to my side of the desk, he has almost caught his breath, although his sweat stained hair betrays his effort.
“My god, you’re one hot woman,” he says breathlessly with a smile.
“I can’t see,” I say, shaking my head to clear the double vision left over from the sudden rush of adrenaline and endorphins in my system.
“Trust me, babe,” he says with a huff. “You look good.”
We sit quietly facing each other while our bodies, souls and minds put themselves together. He starts smiling, as if he just ate the sweetest piece of pie on earth and knows where he can find more. As usual it’s me who breaks the silence.
“So, what do we do now?”
“Well for starters,” he says rubbing his shoulder. “Next time I think I’ll catch the paper, and dodge the flowers.”
I laugh, even though I don’t want to appear weak or happy, both of which I am at this moment.
“I’m serious, Mark. We can’t go on like this. Fighting over decisions, fucking out of frenetic energy. Something is going to have to change.”
“Let’s ditch the fighting, and keep the frenetic fucking.”
“I’m serious!” I fight the urge to smile.
“So am I,” he says gently. “I’ve taken care of the fighting, but I wanted one more frenetic fun session over the desk before we journey into the next room of our love.”
“What room? What care? What are you talking about? What have you done?”
“Okay.” He sits up and puts his hands together in a gesture of supplication.
“Confession time. Today was a set up. I want us to remember the passion and rough love we shared in my office, and now your office. I want us to have that possibility always before us.”
“You were just trying to make me mad? Wait. It was a ruse? You aren’t going to stop me from running the story?”
“I can’t,” he replies with a smile.
“Technically, you can,” I remind him. “You might have written that letter to set up your scheme, but it’s all true. As long as Lynx is a part of Sandstone you can overrule me, and as long as the Wall Street assholes are your clients and friends you will.”
“As long as Lynx is part of Sandstone,” he says wagging his finger. “And that’s only going to be until tomorrow morning.”
My heart, just a few minutes ago pounding like it was planning to burst through my ribs is now sinking to the pit of my stomach. These Sandstone boys are some sick bastards.
“Now you’re closing me?” I say, an absolutely look of disgust crosses my face. “This was just one last screw before you screw me?”
Mark laughs so loud I think pictures are going to fall off the wall.
“Julia, dear, you are so dramatic. No, I’m not closing you. I’m freeing you.” He can tell by the look on my face that I’ve reached the pinnacle of confusion and have no choice but to listen to him. T
hat’s why he does things this way.
“I don’t understand.”
“I can’t let that story run. But, if you’re not a part of Sandstone, there’s nothing I can do about it. So today I arranged for the sale of our shares we gained when we fronted you the capital. The new owners take over at midnight.”
“You sold me? Without asking me?”
“I was pretty sure you’d approve. I sold forty percent of the shares, for a hearty sum, to Robert Clank. He really likes you and thinks you’re a great risk. The rest of the shares I can sell back to you. Of course, the money will have to change hands at some point to make it legit, but I’m sure we can work that out over time.”
“Me? You want to sell the rest of the shares back to me?”
“Yep. So, you’ll own 60 percent of Lynx now. You have the majority control. Robert is going to be a silent partner owning 40 percent. His backing will make sure you make it through any lean times, and the Wall Street story is going to carry you to the top.”
“Mark!” I jump up from my chair and walk as quickly as my blissfully sore insides will allow. “You gave me back my company. You kept your promise.”
“I wish you didn’t sound so surprised.” He chuckles and pulls me onto his lap so he can hold me in his arms. “I love you, you know.”
“I know.” My eye catches the remnants of the vase all over the floor. “I’m so sorry about tonight.”
“Don’t be. It definitely shows us what we need to work on, besides your pitching arm.”
“Thank you.” I kiss him again, enjoying the slow movement of our lips together, “and thank you for Lynx.”
“It was the smart move. Besides all the dust your story is going to kick up, it wouldn’t look right if my company held majority control of the magazine owned and edited by my future wife.”
“Yes,” I agree, before realizing what he said. Wait, did he actually say that? “Future wife”? A huge smile starts building on my face. It wasn’t a proposal but it’s good enough for now. I beam at him, feeling warm and fuzzy inside.
“It’s like I told you before. We don’t have a deal or a contract to lean back on. You don’t need anything from me, and I hold nothing over you. The only way we can keep going down this road is if it is your choice.”
I pause for a moment, letting my finger outline the bridge of his nose.
“You know,” I finally manage to say. “When my father died, and I thought I lost Lynx, and you, I thought I had nothing left. Everything was stripped away. Without it all, I found me. That was me standing up at my father’s funeral. That was me going into the lion’s den to get that folder. That was me sprinting through the courthouse without shoes. That was me controlling my emotions when I could have spit in Blake’s face. That courage, that honesty, that control, that passion, that power, that was all me.”
“Yes, it was.” Mark nods his affirmation. I take his hand and hold it open.
“Now, this is me,” I say leaning over to kiss his palm, then put his hand over my heart. He looks at me quizzically.
“This is me, choosing you.”
The End
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The Surrender Series Teaser
Now, a quick sneak peek at Priscilla West’s highly anticipated Surrender Series!
Reviews for the Surrender Series (4.5 out of 5 stars on Amazon.com):
“West took a done to death genre and gave it a new twist to create something fully her own. Her smooth yet captivating writing combines with her interesting descriptions to paint a picture of the various scenes for the audience. There were definitely a few `holy hell Hannah' moments in this one. These were always perfectly placed to draw you further into a scene or to make you realise how intense these two characters were with regards to each other.”
- Jonel
Forbidden Surrender (Book One) – Available Now!
Secret Surrender (Book Two) – Available Now!
Beautiful Surrender (Final Book) – Release Date: November 4th, 2013
Click the links above to meet the deliciously sexy Vincent Sorenson.
He’s waiting for you…
Bonds of Attraction
by Alana Davis
“It was always strictly business. I had never slept with a client. I wasn’t about to start now.”
Julie Facet runs the hottest matchmaking agency in Los Angeles, but she doesn’t quite believe in happily ever afters. Despite the file cabinets full of clients she has found matches for, she isn’t interested in anything beyond simply satisfying her own physical needs. When Julie meets the wealthy Leon Christensen, her professionalism is pushed to the brink. Leon is charismatic and cocky, and does everything he can to get under Julie’s skin. Not to mention that he owns the Poison Ivy, a nightclub that’s designed for every sexual proclivity and uses his own sexuality to push women away.
Will she able to find a suitable partner for Leon, who prides himself in his no-strings-attached relationships?
And what will Julie do when she discovers that her feelings for Leon extend beyond the professional?
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Chapter 1
The office was empty. I sat at my desk, looking through a new client’s folder with idle fascination. It’d already been a long day and I was determined to make it longer. When I thought of leaving the office, I couldn’t think of anything to do or anywhere to go. Eventually, I’d have to leave. But for now, I could still lose myself in my work.
As I studied the contents of the folder, I ran my fingers across the fine wood that had been carved into my desk. I had pushed the desk against the window when I moved the company into this office so that I could feel the warmth of the sun against my skin while I worked. It was dark outside and the flickering lights of Los Angeles reflected off of the window. I couldn’t remember when the sun had set, or if I had even watched it. An internet radio station was playing music that I wasn’t really listening to, but through the high-quality speakers that I’d spent way too much money on, whatever was playing sounded great. Lines of color moved across the computer screen in geometric patterns.
I looked up from the sheet that chronicled the client’s dating history and rubbed my eyes. My assistant, April, had gone home for the day. A ceiling light shined down on her empty desk, cleared of everything except for the computer that was turned off. Her chair was pushed in and awaited her return in the morning.
April had popped her head in my office before she left to let me know it was her time to hit the road. She had politely asked me if there was anything else she could do for me, and I’d pleasantly told her that I was fine. We said our goodbyes, and that was it. Our interactions were always strictly professional. We always said our hellos and goodbyes, but the small talk was next to nothing. We never discussed what we did out of the office or our personal lives. For all I knew, April was married with kids or part of some polygamist cult.
I knew that April was a good secretary. I knew that she came into work on time, was organized, and followed all the instructions I gave her. And that was enough.
Having had enough, I rose from my seat and took the folder back to the filing cabinet. When I returned to my desk, I picked up the pile of wedding invitations that April had placed on my desk earlier that day.
There were at least a dozen invitations. Some of the names looked familiar, others a complete mystery. I never attended any of the weddings I was invited to. Frankly, I didn’t mind them but these people were simply clients. I made no friendships through my work and I didn’t hold much sentimentality. I understood that a lot of my clients held me in high regard since they credited me for helping them find their “soul mates”.
April would place a stack of them on my desk at the end of every week. I didn’t know why I still had her do this, despite the fact that I always had her send them back with the unfortunate news that I’d be unable to attend. If a client called to personally invite me on top of the invitation, which often happened, I’d throw an extra hint of sadness in my voice as I gave an excuse like I was going to be out of town that day.
The real reason was simple: I’d rather be working on creating more weddings and happy customers.
I held one of the invitations in my hands and carefully studied it. At this point, I’d received so many of these invitations that I could’ve opened my own store that specialized in creating wedding invitations. This invitation was exquisite. It folded open to reveal a small bow attached to the fine paper that was lined with cursive writing. On the bottom of the invitation, I noticed a small website URL, rachelandbrian.com.
Curious, I woke my computer up from its slumber and typed in the address in my web browser. I couldn’t remember the clients by their names, and when a picture of them popped up on my computer screen, I still didn’t remember them. I studied their faces carefully, trying to root through my brain for even the slightest hint of recognition. Nothing came.
They were an attractive couple. Perfectly suited for each other, I thought to myself. I let a little smile of gratification spread across my face as I studied the picture carefully. They were both smiling big white toothy grins. Brian had his arm around Rachel, holding her close as they stared into the camera, their heads leaning against one another. They both looked happy. They both believed themselves to be in love.
Just like a child is happy when he believes Santa leaves him presents on Christmas Eve. I took out the RSVP card and marked that I wouldn’t be attending. I placed it in the postage-prepaid envelope and laid it next to the pile of unopened invitations.
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