And to be honest, I had to wonder—was I that same girl?
I mean, all it took for me to fall apart was a glimpse of his naked body. Here I was, twenty-five years old, an ambitious, hard-working, no-nonsense businesswoman, reduced to a blushing heap with one look.
I tried to imagine how I would have reacted if it had been anyone else other than Bruin. If I had walked in on any other client naked, there would have been hell to pay. On their end. It was totally unprofessional. It was borderline criminal. And I would never have allowed anyone to make me feel cowardly and anxious. After all, it was his mistake. His fault. Surely he knew exactly what time I was due to arrive onboard Mirabella, and he would have had plenty of time to clear out and prevent my seeing his whole damn naked body. Add to that the audacity of not only being present on the boat, not only being naked in front of me, but to have just slept with some random girl right before I arrived?
It was downright offensive.
And these thoughts were the culprits. The ones to keep me up all night, tossing and turning, alternating between anxiety, righteous fury, and, I had to admit, a little bit of excitement. That was the emotional, stupid side of me. My heart. Pounding along as I retraced every sharp line and angle of Bruin’s body in my mind, urging me to think about how it would feel to lay a hand on his hard stomach, his powerful arm. His enormous cock.
I swallowed hard, standing in my en suite bathroom, staring at my reflection.
“It’s just a routine business meeting,” I told myself aloud, but I wasn’t convinced.
I sighed and splashed my face with water, trying to break myself out of my anxious haze. It was early, still, but I had not been able to sleep anyway. I stepped into the shower and let the warm water rush down my body. I closed my eyes and immediately the image of Bruin sprang to the forefront of my mind, as usual. I bit my lip, my whole body feeling like it was on fire.
My hands slid down my chest, over my stiffening nipples. Down my smooth, flat stomach and down to that sweet spot between my legs. I inhaled sharply. The very thought of Bruin, the fantasy man of my dreams and my romance novels, made me wet.
What the hell was I doing?
I quickly shook myself off and rushed through the routine of washing my hair and body, then stepped out of the shower and toweled off. I blow-dried my hair and got to work putting on my makeup. I had to resist the urge to add a little more glamor to my usual look. But I kept reminding myself this was just a normal meeting. Bruin, as hot as he might be, was no different from any other client. I had to treat him the same way as anyone else.
Still, I couldn’t stop myself from adding just a dash of red lipstick. I told myself it wasn’t to impress Bruin, it was just to make me feel more confident, but that was a lie. And I knew it.
I got dressed in a form-fitting black dress that came down to just above my knees, then added an understated silver necklace and some red pumps. I looked pretty damn good. Professional, but with just a slight hint of sexy.
“Perfect,” I murmured, checking myself out. Would it be enough to make Bruin take me seriously? I sure hoped so. I needed to get through this for Jeff’s sake.
The sun was shining and the seagulls were crying over the water as I boarded Mirabella, helped up by the same uniformed attendant as before, Miguel. He smiled at me, albeit a little embarrassedly. I think he had to know what I saw in that stateroom the last time I was there.
“Good to see you again, ma’am,” he said cheerily. I gave him a nod.
“Same to you, Miguel. Where can I find Mr. Kincaid? I’d like to get started right away, please,” I told him with a weak smile.
He led me downstairs to a lower deck, the same hall that contained the fated stateroom. My heart pounded, my mind running in circles. To my relief, we didn’t go into that room. We went down the hall to a smaller bedroom. I had hoped to meet with Bruin under the utmost professional circumstances. An office. With a desk between us. But that wasn’t Bruin’s style, of course.
Miguel let me in and I walked in, trying to keep my breathing normal. And there he was. Standing by the bed. He was fully dressed this time, but that did little to tame his sex appeal. He was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt with a casual blazer over it. He gave me a brilliant, devilish grin, and I could feel my knees buckling beneath me.
Be strong, Jillian. You can do this.
“Miss Hargrove,” he said, his tone cocky as always, “I’m glad you made it.”
“Of course,” I answered flatly. “Jeff wants me to move forward with the purchase.”
“Good to hear. Come sit,” he said, gesturing toward the bed as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I frowned.
“No… no, thank you. I’ll stand,” I answered. He raised an eyebrow and slowly started walking over to me. Oh God, oh God, oh God.
He stopped short right in front of me, his body heat radiating warmth over me. I could scarcely remember to breathe. “No need to be so shy now, Jillian. You’ve already seen all the tricks up my sleeve,” he said softly. His voice was more like a growl. It made me shiver.
“Can we just cut to the chase?” I asked shakily.
He smirked. “Sure. We can do that. But you might be a little overdressed. In fact, I think we both are. Let’s fix that. I’ll start,” he said, shrugging off his blazer and tossing it behind him.
I gulped.
“Th-that’s not what I mean and you know it,” I told him, my voice barely over a whisper.
“No? Are you sure?” he asked, taking another step closer. We were nearly touching, my eyes level with his collarbone. My body was freezing and burning at the same time.
“I’m sure. Bruin. Mr. Kincaid. I’m just here on business.”
“You can’t tell me you’re over your little crush now, are you?” he teased.
“It’s been years. I’m not the same girl anymore,” I said defiantly. He reached down and took my chin in his fingers, tilting my face toward his.
“No. You sure as hell aren’t,” he agreed, licking his lips. “Fuck, you look good in that dress. But I bet you’d look even better out of it.”
I shook my head and backed away but he followed after me, walking me back against the wall, pinning me there. My heart was racing. Was this really happening?
“Bruin,” I murmured, feeling a little dizzy.
“Do you really want me to stop?” he asked, leaning down until our faces were just millimeters apart. I couldn’t think straight, much less speak.
But for some reason I could never explain logically, I shook my head.
And so he kissed me.
Eleven
Bruin
My body was like dry kindling, and that kiss lit a fire in me that spread from our lips to my chest, and there, it grew into a furnace that burned fiercely in my whole body.
Every muscle in me lit up with energy, alive like never before at her touch. My mind dissolved into a burning mess of white noise as I focused on the feeling of Jillian Hargrove’s soft lips against mine.
When a sweet, single note of a delighted, guilty sigh escaped her, I knew I had to have more.
My hands slid down from the wall I was pinning her against to her hips, caressing the black fabric of her dress and gently squeezing her, feeling her give, her warmth, her everything. I was already looming over her, my body taking up so much space around her that I was worried for a second that I was crushing her in against the wall. But I came closer still, pulling her hips into mine.
I let her feel the thick width of my cock against her.
From the moment she’d stepped in with that dress, it had begun to swell up with need. My eyes had drank in that form-fitting outfit, so conservative and so enticing all at the same time. There was no way she couldn’t have known what a dress like that was going to do to me. She was playing with fire, and now, my heat was damn close to burning her like she’d been burning me up from the moment I saw her.
I was holding awkward, shy, nerdy Jillian, my own best friend’s sister
, the blushing wall flower in the background of some of the best years of my life. And I wanted to slide my cock between her wet lips and buck into her until I’d spent every drop of seed in me.
The thought of coming inside Jillian made my cock pulse, and I pinned her against the wall completely, slipping a hand behind her neck to kiss her more deeply. The thing inside me that had been roaring to get out was bursting free at last, and I recognized the way Jillian was gasping, sighing into it, her body nearly melting to my touch.
She was nervous, but God, she wanted me. And for once, the thought of letting all her old fantasies run wild with my cock inside her made me all the more excited.
I was ready. I was primed. I was hungry for her, and I wanted to devour every last inch of her. The taste of her lips was sweet on my tongue, and I finally broke the kiss to move my lips down to her neck.
And with a single word, the fantasy of the moment shattered back into reality.
“Wait.”
I stood back as though she’d shocked me with a jolt of electricity. My hands went back to the wall, leaving her still pinned under me, but no part of me touched her. I glowered down at her, the hunger in my eyes obvious as the lust I could see in hers.
And for half a second, she looked sad that she’d told me to stop, her lips opening as if to beg me to come back.
Then, her professional side came rushing back to her, and she steeled her will, glaring at me and shaking her head as she pushed my arms out of the way to take a few steps to the side.
“What the hell are you thinking?” Jillian asked, breathing heavily as she brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, her face still flushed.
“The same thing you were,” I said, taking a step toward her, but she mirrored it and stepped back. It took her a few moments to compose herself enough to talk.
“I was thinking I was coming here for a professional meeting,” she gasped, her face going even redder.
I’d really rocked the boat with her, it seemed. From the moment she let me kiss her, I could read the fantasies in her mind wanting to cut loose and let me go wild on her.
That storm was still raging in her heart.
“And you did,” I said with a casual smile. “We’re professionals, and we’re meeting. We just have some tension to take care of before we get to business.”
“B-bruin, I don’t…” she paused, swallowed, and started again with her composure trying to make a comeback. “I came here because I want you to sign this sale, Bruin. All I’m here to do is to buy this boat from you, for my brother,” she emphasized, putting force in the last three words.
I frowned. There was no way she didn’t know about the tension between Jeff and me over her. He probably didn’t even have to say anything. She would have just known. They knew each other well.
“Is it really?” I asked, and her eyes widened at being challenged. I took a step forward, and this time, she didn’t move, rooted in place. “You could have come up with any reason to avoid coming here in person. A simple lie would have done the job. Instead, you show up here with a dress that makes me want to do unspeakable things to you and step into my bedroom,” I said, my voice getting lower and huskier with every step I took toward her.
I was looming over her again, looking deep into those green eyes that were like a forest I wanted to get lost in forever. But they were so defiant and willful, yet so full of desire. She was holding herself back as much as she was holding me back.
“I came here,” she said slowly, her own voice low, “because I’m doing everything I can to make this work. For Jeff, and for me.”
“Forget Jeff,” I said, the impatience starting to show in my tone. “What does he have to do with any of this? You’re a grown woman, Jill,” I said, looking her up and down. “And I can see in your eyes that you’re a grown woman who knows what she wants.”
“What I want is what’s best for the company,” she said, and even I could tell by her tone she didn’t believe that.
“Is that what’s best for you?” I asked, and she opened her mouth to argue, but no words came to her. She clenched her jaw, glaring daggers up at me as I loomed over her, so close that I could feel the heat radiating off her.
One of my massive hands slipped around one of her small ones, giving it a gentle squeeze that she didn’t resist at first. “Forget Jeff,” I whispered in a husky tone. “Forget the company. Think about what you want. I saw the look in your eyes a minute ago. I felt the way you groaned into me. We both want this. I want you.”
Those words sent a shiver up her back that I could feel at her fingertips, but she drew her hand away, nearly shaking.
“I’ve made my offer, Bruin,” she said, fighting hard to maintain her professional tone. I couldn’t help but smile. The way she was trying to keep carrying herself, you’d think we’d been having a chaste, businesslike meeting from the very start. “If you’re interested at all in selling this yacht, then we can talk. Until you decide on that, though, I think you’re wasting our time here.”
Her face was beet-red, but she let the words come out with force before she turned on her heel and strode out of the room.
I was nothing short of stunned. That was a kind of fire I’d never known Jillian was capable of. It took me a moment to realize what was even happening. I gave my head a shake and started to walk after her.
“Jillian,” I started, and for an instant, I almost went after her.
But I held my place and let her go, watching her slam the door shut and listening to the sound of her hurried footsteps down the hall and around the corner while I stood in my place. Bruin Kincaid did not run after women.
I let my shoulders relax, and I glared out the door with new resolution.
No, I wasn’t going to chase her down the hall like a love-struck puppy. But I was going to have her.
When I wanted to have something, I made it happen. Always.
Twelve
Jillian
What the hell was that?
I stormed out of the little bedroom, my heart pounding so hard it made me breathless. I had tears burning in my eyes, my whole body like one giant flickering flame. I was afraid to look back as I flung the door shut behind me and tore away down the hallway toward the stairs. I just knew somehow that if I looked back I would see one of two things: either he would be just behind me, following me out to stop me and pull me back, or he wouldn’t.
And honestly, I hated either one of those scenarios. If he came after me, it would be trouble. I had been able to pull away and resist him this once, but if he kissed me again, I wasn’t so sure I’d be strong enough to step back again.
And if he wasn’t behind me, well, then I was potentially storming out on a deal. I was leaving behind the man of my hottest fantasies. I had no idea how to feel about any of this. On the one hand, who the hell did he think he was, just grabbing me and kissing me like some romance-novel Casanova? We weren’t dating. We weren’t sleeping together. Hell, the whole time we’d known each other he had treated me like some bratty little fangirl. His best friend’s baby sister. Totally off-limits. I was never on the menu, even when I really wanted to be.
Right there was the other confusing issue: I had wanted him to kiss me. Well, part of me did. The logical, businesslike side of me was enraged, deeply offended and embarrassed by the whole thing. But that hopeless romantic inside me longed to turn on my heel and rush back to the stateroom, throw open the door, and collapse in Bruin’s powerful arms. Oh yeah. That side of me had no qualms about the whole unprofessional angle. Especially when I considered the fact that I hadn’t been even really intimate with anyone since, oh, my sophomore year of college, when I lost my virginity to a guy I’d been dating for a few months.
We broke up shortly after, and I was so hurt by the whole thing that I dumped all my energy and time into working hard and getting good grades. That messy, painful breakup was part of what catapulted me into the high-pressure, high-rewards career I had now. After he dumped me and promptly s
tarted dating one of our mutual friends, I needed some way to fill my time. So I landed two separate internships, one at an accounting firm, and one working as an assistant to my brother’s secretary. He was taking over from Dad and needed a friendly face around to make the transition smoother.
It was a lot of work, but between my excellent grades, volunteer hours, and the two prestigious internships, by the time I graduated college I had one hell of a resume. Which was why I was able to so easily wiggle my way into the male-dominated field of yacht brokerage.
That heartbreak fueled me, and my career had become my significant other. I was married to the job, and although sometimes it did get lonely, for the most part I was content. Until now. Until Bruin Kincaid came sauntering back into the picture, looking hotter than ever before. I blew past poor Miguel, who looked pale and concerned, probably at the look on my face. It had to be a major pain in the ass to work for Bruin. The whole staff were probably on pins and needles at all times. Bruin was reckless. Wild. He did what he wanted when he wanted, and with his family’s immense fortune behind him, there were few limits. He could buy whatever he pleased, and buy his way out of whatever trouble he landed in. He had a built-in ‘get out of jail free’ card. He could just write a ridiculous check and stroll out of any situation like it was nothing. He was not used to being turned for anything, and I couldn’t help but wonder how he was feeling about the fact that I’d just run out on him.
As I walked briskly down the docks, I whipped out my cell phone and called for my chauffeur to come pick me up as soon as possible. I waited for a few minutes, nervously glancing back toward the docks like I expected Bruin to come stalking after me at any moment. Part of me hoped he would. I wanted him. And I knew he knew it. But I also knew that if I gave in to him this way, I’d be a goner. He’d have me totally hooked, hanging on his every word, his every move. Just like when I was a love-struck, hormonal teenager.
Double Mountain Trouble Page 23