Secret Surrender (The Forever Book 2)

by Priscilla West

  “Where do you think we can best incorporate that information into the follow-up pitch we already have?” Carl asked.

  “In my opinion,” I began, clearing my throat nervously, “it should be the first thing you emphasize. It will show him that you respect his company and also make for a smoother transition into the points on expansion.”

  He shook his head slowly. “Watson-James is known for tradition. Cohen probably met with them when he realized our approach was future focused. Great catch, Kristen. You may have saved yet another account, keep it up.”

  I tried to hold back the beaming smile that was threatening to creep across my face as I handed the folder back to him. “Thank you Mr. Stansworth, let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”

  I left Carl’s office feeling more confident in my job than I ever had while working for Richard. Instead of treating me like his inferior or some prop, Carl treated me like his peer. I had to admit that I’d learned a lot from Richard—mostly by figuring things out on my own—but I had a feeling that working with Carl would be far more hands on. I couldn’t help but think that, although I’d earned my new position at Waterbridge-Howser through hard work, my new career success wouldn’t have been possible had I never met Vincent.

  As I approached my desk I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. I pulled it out to look at it and my stomach did a flip when I saw who it was from: Vincent. We’d been seeing each other for a few weeks now, but I still found myself getting excited every time I heard from him.

  All work . . . I’m ready for some play, still on for Skype at 7 your time?

  I was relieved to know that he was thinking about me despite how busy he must have been with the launch party. My earlier jealousy was starting to seem irrational—if Vincent wanted casual sex he could have it. It certainly would have been easier than dating, but he was cutting time out of his schedule for me. He was adjusting.

  I typed a response. It’s a date, but there might be a little work involved.

  Only for you. Talk later.

  I smiled as I put my phone away. Vincent might have been a bad boy once, but it seemed that things were changing.

  ***

  On my way home, I ran across Kurt, who was on his way to pick up take-out from a Chinese restaurant nearby. We exchanged a few pleasantries. I told him I worked for a wealth management firm and he told me he worked security. I wasn’t sure what that meant exactly but it wasn’t hard to imagine him being a bouncer with his height and muscles.

  When I got inside the apartment, the air was hotter than normal. Riley was laying on the couch as usual but in her work clothes, her bag next to the coffee table. It looked like she plopped down as soon as she made it inside. Must’ve been a hard day at work.

  “Yeesh, why is it so hot in here?” I asked.

  “The air conditioning is busted and it’s like ninety degrees outside. Thank goodness for global warming and summer, right?” Riley replied, eyes closed and back of her hand resting on her forehead.

  “I feel like we should be getting a tan in this heat. Are they going to fix it?”

  “Yeah, I called the landlord. He said other people complained and he has a guy already working on it.”

  “That’s good news.” I slipped out of my shoes and put on some slippers. Moving on, I asked, “Did you go to work today?”

  “I was feeling well enough to go in around noon. But I’m definitely sleeping early tonight. My head’s still congested.”

  “I’m glad to hear you’re better.”

  “How was your day?” she asked.

  “Nothing too exciting. I had a meeting with my new boss. Carl’s much better than Richard—who by the way is starting to be a pain in the ass. He thinks I stole Vincent from him.”

  “I saw you hold a poisonous spider.” Her hand leaped from her forehead to point at me. “You definitely deserved Vincent more than he did.”

  I shrugged. “He doesn’t know that though. And I’d like to keep it that way.” I dropped my bag beside the kitchen table.

  “So, other than work.” She straightened herself on the couch and brushed her strawberry-blonde hair behind her ears. Her blue eyes looked at me carefully. “How are you doing?” she asked delicately.

  I leaned against a kitchen chair and shifted my feet. “I’m okay. It’s been on my mind but I feel a lot better and safer since Monday. Vincent’s been out of town but he’s checking up on me regularly, which is nice.”

  “That’s good to hear, Kristen. I’m really happy for you. It sounds like Vincent really cares about you.”

  He’d been unexpectedly supportive since I told him about Marty. Any other guy would’ve probably made an awkward excuse to avoid me and I wouldn’t blame them. Most people were busy battling their own problems; they weren’t going to fight somebody else’s—no matter how good the sex.

  “I think I really care about him.”

  She smiled. “As you should. How did things go at his place?”

  I felt my cheeks blush. “It was good. He made dinner for us. I found out what an awesome chef he is.”

  “A great cook as well? God, I’m not even going to lie to you, Kristen. I’m so jealous.”

  I laughed. “Thanks, I guess.”

  “So.” Her eyes turned wicked. “Did you get some action?”

  I smiled bashfully and tried to look away from her curious eyes.

  She beamed and pointed her finger at me again. “I knew it.”

  I recounted the rest of the night at Vincent’s place to Riley, only leaving out the most intimate details—which were the ones she wanted to hear most. I could trust her not to tell anyone, but I didn’t feel ready to have a detailed discussion about my newly invigorated sex life. I was still trying to wrap my head around it. After over two years without sex, I’d just had it three times with nipple-pierced bad boy Vincent Sorenson. Blindfolds and multiple orgasms? What could I make of that?

  Besides being the best sex of my life.

  Riley seemed satisfied with the rundown even without the graphic details. I knew she’d probably prod me again about it later and I’d end up telling her more.

  By the time evening rolled around, the heat had died down. I still didn’t hear the whir of the air conditioning but at least the temperature outside had cooled enough to be bearable.

  I’d wanted to change into something lighter but only had a pair of pink athletic shorts I had from high school that were clean. I ended up keeping my work blouse on and tying my hair in a ponytail as I carried my dirty clothes to the laundry room located in the basement of our building.

  As a precaution, I brought my necklace and hid the taser within the pile of clothes. If Marty decided to show up and hurt me, I could easily subdue him or at least keep him at a distance long enough for me to call the police. That’s if he decided to hurt me. He’d hurt me in the past but I still didn’t know why he was showing up at my doorstep now. Was he here to say he changed? Did he want us to try again? He hadn’t left a message with Riley or given any reason for his surprise visit. He had just asked to see me. The mysterious circumstances worried me.

  After putting two loads through the washer and dryer, I was relieved I didn’t have to use the protection items. There hadn’t been anymore Marty incidents since Monday and I was hoping it would stay that way. By the time I got back to the apartment with the last batch from the dryer, the air had cooled. It was still warm though and I brought a glass of ice water into my bedroom for refreshment as I folded my laundry on my bed.

  Riley had moved from the couch to her room, following through with her plan to sleep early.

  I’d just finished folding the last garment when my laptop chirped. A window popped up indicating there was a Skype video call from V. Sorenson. I took a seat at my desk and clicked “accept”. Moments later, Vincent’s stunning face appeared on my computer screen. He was thousands of miles away but now right in front of me. I missed his spicy scent but just seeing him still had a strong effect. Som
etimes I hated technology for making my life more complicated—emails, social media, always being connected to work—but this time I loved it.

  I turned the volume high enough to hear Vincent but not enough to wake up Riley in the next room. She was a heavy sleeper and I doubted even a blow horn would wake her.

  Vincent was in a gray dress shirt without a tie and the top button undone. His face had a bit of evening stubble. The ruggedness contrasting with his elegant attire was startlingly attractive. He looked tired from a long day but seemed excited to see me.

  I smiled at him. “Hey,” I said cheerily.

  “Hey,” he responded with enthusiasm of his own. “Can you hear me? Is the video coming through?”

  “Crystal clear. Your handsomeness is transmitting in its full high definition glory. Am I coming through for you?”

  He smiled. “Yes, but nothing can compare to the real thing. How are you, Kristen?”

  “Good, just finished some laundry. How about you? How’s your trip going?”

  “Not bad. Business as usual.” He paused for a moment. “I’ve missed you.”

  I blushed. The words weren’t unexpected but it was still surprising to hear them out loud. “I missed you too.”

  His dark eyes were scanning my surroundings. “You’ve got a nice bedroom. I like the stuffed animal in the background.”

  I laughed. I’d seen it so often, I’d forgotten it was there. I got up from the desk and went to retrieve the stuffed bird from my bed to give Vincent a better look at it. And an explanation for why a grown woman in her mid-twenties had a kid’s toy.

  “I also like those shorts,” he said. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  I turned back to Vincent. “What do you mean?”

  “It says ‘juicy’ on the back.”

  “Oh God.” My face heated. “I didn’t have anything else to wear. I got these when I was in high school. A lot of girls wore them at the time and I caved to peer pressure. I should’ve thrown them out.”

  He grinned. “I’m glad you didn’t. Suits you well.”

  Hoping to move on to a less embarrassing topic, I picked up my bird and brought it back to the desk. “On the other hand, I’m never going to throw this out.”

  “Why do you have a plush penguin?”

  I squeezed the soft rainbow beak, posing its adorable face for Vincent. “It’s a puffin. It looks like the offspring of a penguin and a parrot if they ever mated. I used to be obsessed with them when I was like five. My parents got me this during a trip to the museum. That was back when I had a better relationship with them. I’m not as into puffins now but this guy still has a lot of sentimental value.”

  “I can see why you like it. It’s cute.”

  “Well I’m glad you and Mr. Waddles get along.” I wiggled its nubby feet at Vincent. “His approval of you means a lot to me.”

  Vincent smiled in a way that was both charming and cute. If only I had a plush version of him to snuggle with on nights when he was away on business.

  “Spunky on the outside, soft on the inside. You’re quite the combination.”

  He continued as if another thought just occurred to him. “I know I’ve said this before. But thinking about you is making it difficult to concentrate on business. I don’t expect you to understand but it’s hard to focus on work when you’ve got an erection.”

  “Well. . . I don’t know what to say.” I really didn’t because I’d never had an erection before but I could at least imagine the dilemma. I offered the first suggestion that came to mind. “Why don’t you just watch porn like a regular guy?”

  His brows knotted and his lips frowned. “Wouldn’t work. You make porn look bad.” He opened his mouth to say something further but closed his eyes and sighed deeply instead.

  “Something’s bothering you. What’s wrong?” I asked.

  His elbow on the desk, he ran a hand through his wavy hair but stopped halfway so that he rested the side of his head in his palm. He looked weary. “I wished we didn’t have sex.”

  Nerves shot through my system and my grip on Mr. Waddles tightened. Why would he say such a terrible thing? Was it because I dumped my baggage on him and now he regretted being involved with me?

  “What? Why?”

  “Cause it made me want you more. I can’t stop thinking about it. You in a blindfold. Your gorgeous body. . . It’s so damn frustrating being so far away from you.”

  Relief washed over me like a cold shower in this summer weather. “You scared me for a second there. I thought you were going to say you didn’t like the sex.”

  “I don’t like how much I liked it. I’m dangerously close to cutting this trip short to come back to Manhattan. I’m not sure how much longer I can go. I think I might be addicted to you.”

  I felt his pain. Over the past two days, I’d constantly thought about him and our multiple sex sessions at his place. It had been distracting—something I welcomed given the drama of my ex lurking in the background; Vincent was a much needed diversion. But most of all, it made me realize how far I’d fallen for him in such a short time. It was frightening and thrilling—knowing he was feeling the same way about me made it less scary.

  I had an idea.

  “Maybe this will help,” I said as I placed Mr. Waddles on the far end of the desk away from me. I released my hair from its ponytail and let my locks drape around my shoulders. I shook my head to give my hair the voluminous and sexy look I’d seen in commercials. Then I smiled seductively at him.

  He straightened in his chair. “You have my attention.”

  I undid the top button of my shirt then the next two, enticing him with a view of my black bra beneath and an eyeful of scandalous cleavage. The nurturing side of me wanted to heal his pain.

  “Mmmm,” he murmured.

  “Like what you see?” I teased. His desire for me always gave me a thrill.

  He nodded slowly. “I want to see more.”

  I looked down at my chest. My breasts were nearly fully exposed. For some odd reason, I’d thought the ample skin I was already showing would be enough for him. But Vincent wasn’t like any other men; I’d forgotten whose sex drive I was dealing with.

  “I’m not sure,” I said, hesitantly.

  He smiled wickedly. “Let me see those gorgeous tits.”

  Showing cleavage was one thing, exposing full-on nipples was another. I couldn’t help recalling a spate of stories in the media recently about a misbehaving senator sending naked pictures of himself to his mistress and those images getting leaked on the internet. I wasn’t a senator, but I still had a reputation I needed to protect. The bad part of the internet was anything that got on there would be around forever.

  I glanced at my door handle. Riley was likely in dream land and even if she wasn’t, my door was still locked. I didn’t know how safe it was on Vincent’s end. “What if someone walks in on you? Or how do I know you’re not recording this? I don’t want my chest all over the internet.”

  “I’m in my hotel room right now. No one’s coming in. Trust me, I’m not going to record this but every inch of your beautiful skin is going to be seared into my memory.” His finger touched his temple. “I’m going to keep the image of your luscious breasts all to myself.”

  “I don’t know. . . I’m not in the habit of doing internet camera shows. The idea makes me feel a little vulnerable.”

  His brows narrowed into sharp lines. I knew that look. It was the same one he got whenever he was in the middle of conducting serious business. He was thinking. Hard.

  “Here, I’ll expose myself. We’ll both do it. I’m trusting you not to record this. I have a lot to lose if this gets out.”

  I thought about what the headlines would say: Billionaire exposes penis to wealth manager. Cock grows while stock shrinks.

  Exposing himself was a huge risk for him, which demonstrated how much he wanted to see me naked. Even for a risk-taker like Vincent, I realized this kind of vulnerability meant a lot.

  “Umm. .
. okay I guess. You first,” I said, unsure whether he was bluffing or serious. If he didn’t do it, I wouldn’t either.

  The corners of his lips curved upward. “A dare? I usually go by ‘ladies first’ but you’ve given me something to work with so I’ll make an exception.”

  He aimed the camera down to his lap, where I saw the front of his slacks tented. He was hard already? Just from that small amount of skin I showed him? My belly fluttered at the sight of the bulging fabric. Was he really going to do this?

  I watched with bated breath as one of his hands gripped the black belt at his waist while the other tugged on the silver buckle to loosen the tightness. The leather arched into his palm and with a controlled jerk he drew two elegant prongs from their fitted holes. He pulled the tapered end of the belt through the rigid frame of the buckle, the band first being resistant but then sliding easily, yielding to the demand of his fingers. A few more inches, and the belt wrapping his powerfully trim waist was freed. He released the two separated ends and let them hang lazily in his lap. He wasn’t exposed yet but I still felt the familiar tingles of excitement laced with arousal ripple through my body.

  I marveled at how such a small gesture could inflame my senses. I wouldn’t have believed it if not for the pulsing between my thighs reminding me how turned on I was becoming.

  His hands were working quickly and my mind and body needed time to catch up with each titillating movement.

  Once he unhooked the clasp on his slacks, he moved his fingers to his fly and paused.

  “I know how you like it slow,” he purred.

  He slowly drew the zipper down and peeled the flaps of his pants back, exposing his dark boxer-briefs. Here it comes, I thought, my pulse beating quickly. He reached into the front opening, curled his fingers around the bulge hiding beneath, and pulled his cock into plain view. He released his hand and it stood erect on its own, the bulbous tip staring back at me, flushed with anger.

  My hand flew to the base of my neck and my breath caught. How could a cock be so savage-looking and beautiful at once? And why was I getting so turned-on just by the sight of him?