Made to Love

by Medina, Heidi

  None had been like this one.

  I couldn’t have stopped it had I even been given a chance to try. It had happened fast; he was fast. But the second his lips connected with mine, all coherent thoughts of stopping fled and were replaced by an overwhelming urge to divest him of the annoying shirt that prevented my hands from feeling his heated skin. Every nerve in my body was on alert as his hand on my waist slid up. I tensed slightly, hoping he would not wrap himself around my arms, but he continued on until both hands gently cupped my face.

  Which he tilted slightly to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring every crevice before he pulled gently on my bottom lip with his teeth.

  My knees threatened to give out, but I was saved that humiliation when he suddenly reached down, cupped my ass and lifted me up against the wall. My legs immediately wrapped around his waist, as our kiss changed. Nathan became predator and I was his prey, his mouth moving over mine, demanding. . .taking. The heat between my legs burned, and I was restless, moving against him, no longer caring that he was technically my boss and this was wrong on so many levels. My only concern was that I needed him inside me. Now. I raked my nails across his back as I sucked his earlobe into my mouth.

  Nathan growled low in his throat. “Shit . .baby—“ He stopped, his breath coming in heavy gasps as he kissed and sucked along my neck. He reached down between us, where my sundress had ridden up around my waist and didn’t hesitate as he slid my panties to the side and slid two fingers into me, my body already wet and pulsing in frenzied anticipation. I was going to go fast.

  I moaned, unable to stop the tremors coursing through my body as his hand moved, curling and stroking inside me. We were no longer kissing, and his head lay buried in my neck, his breath hot against my skin. All too quickly, I felt my body tense and then explode, my legs tightening around him as I came against his hand. Nathan swallowed my scream with his mouth as he withdrew his hand and slid both palms around inside my panties and squeezed my bare ass. He continued to kiss me, softly, gently nipping as my orgasm faded and my legs unlocked and fell limply to the floor.

  He pulled my head to him and I buried my face in his chest, smelling sweat, aftershave and that distinct smell that is all male. His heart thudded rapidly and loudly against my cheek as I stood there, suddenly overwhelmed with the magnitude of what had just happened.

  What am I doing?

  My heart was pounding so loudly it was a miracle I heard anything over it, but voices on the stairwell interrupted the moment, and Nathan quickly straightened up and away from me. He stared at me without speaking a few seconds, and then leaned down and whispered in my ear. “Until next time.” He kissed my cheek and turned to walk away just as another couple appeared in the hall, clearly looking for a room to fuck in, given the fact that he was carrying her on his back and she had her tongue in his ear and her hands down the front of his shirt. Grateful they appeared entirely focused on getting in each other’s pants and not me, I took the opportunity to make a quick exit and ran on shaky legs downstairs and back outside.

  My thoughts scrambled to find focus as I grabbed a drink from first waiter that passed. Gulping the contents down, the alcohol burned its way to the pit of my stomach as I hastily scanned the crowd for Brooke. I had no idea what I was going to say to her once I found her, and knew I needed to calm the hell down before I did, but seriously? I had just been thoroughly finger fucked by Nathan Preston.

  Against a wall, in a hallway, no less.

  It seemed surreal. As if it hadn’t happened. Yet, the tenderness and slight ache between my thighs proved otherwise.

  I reached a hand to my cheek in a panic. Did I have whisker burn? Were my lips swollen? Dear God, what about my hair? The last thing I wanted was for Brooke to suspect anything, yet here I was walking around in a daze and probably looking like I’d just rolled out of my lover’s bed after a three-day romp. Clearly, I wasn’t thinking.

  Obviously, I couldn’t allow it to happen again. I had been employed at Elite for three days. Hopping into bed with him would be career suicide. I wasn’t completely naïve to the ways of the world. This wasn’t high school. This wasn’t a booty call with the quarterback, or some random one night stand picked up from the bar. This was Nathan, the CEO’s son, rich, handsome, and who could undoubtedly have his pick of women at any given time. This was me, trying to make a go of it on my own in the ‘big world’. I had probably caught his attention because I was new. I definitely didn’t want my life under a corporate microscope simply because my panties dropped the first time a Wall Street suit smiled my way.

  I needed to get myself and this obvious attraction to Nathan under control. I downed my drink, and smoothed my hair as I mentally resolved that the last ten minutes of my life, no matter how delicious, could never be repeated.

  “Reagan, there you are; I’ve been looking for you,” Brooke called from behind me, as I whipped around, thankful to finally see her.

  “You have? I’ve been right here,” I said realizing my voice was an octave higher than it usually was. She didn’t seem to notice.

  “No biggie. I was thinking about going up to my room for a bit. There is apparently a fireworks display planned later tonight. Figured I would try and get some R&R before then,” Brooke suggested.

  “I think I will, too” I said quickly, hoping Nathan wasn’t making the rounds to find me. Hiding out in my room sounded heavenly.

  “Are you ok?” Brooke asked, looking at me out of the corner of her eye as we made our way to our rooms.

  I nodded. “Of course. I think I’m just a little tired. Too much work last night kept me up,” I lied. “Come get me in an hour?”

  I entered my room and shut the door before she had a chance to say more. I realized I wasn’t exactly being subtle, but I needed to take a minute and think.

  And to mentally prepare myself for the next time I would see Nathan.

  Nathan

  I ordered bourbon on the rocks, as I leaned on the bar, facing the party that was well underway. I lazily watched several socialites take to the tiled area reserved for dancing, too many cocktails impairing their balance, but providing some fun entertainment to those watching. Realizing I knew one of them from a sexy little weekend romp last summer, and that she was now eyeing me with a ‘come hither’ grin as she sashayed drunkenly across the tile, I hastily turned back to the bar to nurse my drink.

  I felt unsettled. Kissing Reagan had been bold, but inevitable. After all, getting the woman in my bed wasn’t going to happen if I never touched her. And the whole point of her being here this weekend was to make some headway into my plan.

  I hadn’t expected the toe curling though.

  I’d kissed countless women. Some had no idea what to do and were rather clumsy in their attempts to seduce me with their mouths. Others were so skilled they knew just when to suck, to nip, and when to bite hard.

  Reagan was none of these.

  It was obvious this wasn’t her first walk in the park, and I wasn’t dealing with some virginal prude who crossed herself every time a man looked at her sideways. And yet, when kissing her I had tasted innocence, as if she was completely unaware of the sexuality she radiated. As if she had no idea what she did to me simply by being in the same room. It had been like a breath of fresh air. I had felt that innocence down to my toes. All of which had curled . . . well, figuratively, if not literally.

  I’d had her against the wall with my fingers inside her before I’d really realized what I was doing. And that had scared the hell out of me. I didn’t lose control or all rational thought with a woman. Ever. I never made a move that wasn’t calculated and meticulously planned out. The fact that merely kissing Reagan had messed with my head that much terrified me.

  But at that point, I hadn’t been able to stop. She was soaking wet, hot and welcoming as I’d slid my fingers into her depths. She’d come fast and hard, jerking against my hand, and I’d almost came with her, standing in the hallway fully clothed. Had we not been interrupted b
y a couple who at least showed more sense than we did by finding their room first, I didn’t doubt I would’ve dropped my pants and been inside her again, consequences be damned.

  I was fucking hopeless.

  The thought brought with it a renewed resolve to solidify the plan I had set forth. I had to get this woman out of my system with all haste.

  I hadn’t seen her since her rapid flight from my arms well over an hour ago, but had confirmed with several staff that her room had not been vacated. So she was still here and would have to come down eventually. I would wait. I was a patient man.

  At least, I pretended to be.

  I winced as I heard my mother’s shrill laugh from somewhere to my left. I was saved from having to dwell too long on that unpleasant subject, by an elbow to the ribs.

  “Nathan, buddy, how are you,” the voice, and elbow, belonged to Tyler Winston, both business associate and family friend.

  I turned and smiled, hoping that his visit was brief. I did not want to be preoccupied when Miss. Flighty chose to make her reappearance. “Tyler, good to see you. Enjoying the party?” I asked.

  Tyler grinned and nodded. “Always. Just trying to figure out which one, or three, of these lucky ladies gets to accompany me back to my hotel. You know I like to share the wealth,” Tyler laughed loudly as he clapped me on the back. I raised an eyebrow as I drained the rest of my glass. I would blame his crude comment on too much alcohol, but sadly that wasn’t the case. Tyler Winston was, in every sense of the word, a player. And when he spoke of things like ‘sharing the wealth’, he was not talking about money. As crass as he was, the women seemed to like him and I had no doubt he would indeed leave tonight with no less than the three women he planned on.

  “I actually already had my eye on someone, but seem to have lost her in the mix.” He craned his neck, scanning the crowd. “Rumor has it she’s new; Isaac’s team,” Tyler continued.

  He had my full attention.

  I’ll be damned.

  I stood straighter, and nodded to the bartender for another drink. “Ah yes, the new girl. Seems I heard she’s spoken for.” I shrugged apologetically.

  Tyler threw me a knowing glance. “Already struck out, huh?” If he only knew. I kept silent, clenching my jaw as my anger at his condescending tone grew. Anger that was irrational, but there all the same. “That’s too bad, buddy. She is freaking hot! I might have to sniff that out anyhow to see just how serious this spoken for thing really is.” That he truly believed he would succeed in any area I had failed made me rethink our acquaintance.

  I took a calming breath and changed the subject before I did anything rash. “I saw the contracts for Nevada. They look good. You’ll be flying out this week right?” If he wasn’t, he would be, I determined.

  Thankfully Tyler turned his focus from his dick to business. “Yeah, Wednesday morning. We should be breaking some ground on Friday.” Tyler explained.

  I brought up more work, keeping him engaged until I was satisfied he was done thinking about Reagan. Still no sign of her. I had a feeling it was about to be a long night.

  I pushed back my keyboard and stared aimlessly out my office window, as I replayed the events of the weekend in my mind. My conversation with Tyler Winston had been interrupted by the arrival of my mother on the dance floor. Her weaving in and out amongst the other dancers had been innocent enough, until she’d knocked into a passing waiter, sending an entire tray of cocktails all over herself and the unfortunate man who had been carrying them.

  It was then that I caught the angry stride of Dad from near the back of the house as he stalked toward her. Appearances were everything to my father –everything—and it was best I intercept before he reached her. He’d just get her inside and berate her for her carelessness, which would do nothing but drive her to look for any of the countless bottles she had stashed away throughout the house. I’d made my excuses to Tyler and reached Mom just as she was realizing she was wearing the dress of her dreams: one soaked in alcohol. I grasped the arm which she’d drunkenly began to raise to her mouth, and pasting a smile on my face, guided her inside. The party was already back in full swing as if nothing had occurred. For all my Dad’s attempts to maintain dignity in the Preston name, people were not idiots, and Mom’s alcoholism, though never spoken of, was common knowledge.

  The next several hours of my evening had been spent ensuring my mother’s comfort as I listened to her rail on and on about the events that had transpired two years ago. Which led to incoherent ramblings about my father, past mistakes and a lifetime of regrets. All things I had heard countless times and could probably recite with her.

  By the time I had made my way back downstairs and outside, the majority of the party guests had either retired to their rooms or left the house altogether. I tipped my head at Tyler as he’d passed by with a bevy of women on his arm, giving me a two-fingered wave of victory. Reagan had been nowhere in sight and if she’d returned to the party in my absence, she was gone now. I’d spend a restless night in my old room, resisting the urge to seek her out in the night, promising myself that I would make my next move over brunch the following morning.

  But she’d left to head back to the city before I’d woken up and I hadn’t gotten the chance.

  And yesterday, I’d been tied up in bullshit meetings all day and hadn’t had a minute to myself until well after seven. I had decided not to tip my hand and squelched the urge to seek her out then. She’d probably left for home at that hour, anyway, and while I supposed I had a justifiable reason to see her—it wasn’t every day that I brought a woman to orgasm and she fled the scene; in fact she could be the first—I figured I’d play it safe and stay away.

  For now.

  But today was a new day. And I knew she was somewhere in this building. Before the day was out, I intended to see her and find out where she stood on this whole kiss and run thing.

  Turning to pick up the phone to begin my plans to do just that, I looked up as my father barged into my office. “Nathaniel,” he said, by way of greeting. He stood in front of my desk, arms folded, staring down at me as if we were at some sort of standoff.

  Not in the mood for his latest lecture or tirade, I leaned back in my chair and sighed. “What is it?” I asked.

  “I’m thinking about going to Tokyo the end of this week,” he answered. “I should only be gone a week or two. I think it would do Hu Wang some good to meet face to face. ”

  This was new.

  It also didn’t escape me the timing of his sudden need to hotfoot it to Japan. Next week held an anniversary of sorts, although it certainly wasn’t a cause for celebration, and I knew he had no desire to be anywhere near here when that day dawned. None of us did, but it seemed my father’s selfishness knew no bounds. To say it was not a good time was putting it mildly.

  Of course, I refrained from mentioning it. While he had no desire to be here, I had no desire to talk about.

  I feigned interest in an email on my screen. Dad hated when he didn’t have my full attention. “So are you still thinking about it, or are you going?” I couldn’t resist the sarcastic jab.

  He cut right to the chase. “Nathaniel, if you can’t handle things here you need to tell me now. I’m not going to come back to a mess.”

  I wanted to laugh. The man’s wife, his marriage, hell—maybe his whole life, was a mess. And he was more concerned with leaving me alone for two weeks. Not out of any great concern for me, mind you. No, his concern centered on his greatest love, and that was his money. As if I could singlehandedly make him destitute in fourteen days.

  I clicked through a few more emails, on purpose, before smiling up at him. “No, I think we’re good, Dad. I got this.”

  Dad backed away toward the door. “Get with Brooke on the itinerary so you’ll be up to speed if you need anything. I have the Johnson and Johnson presentation now. I’ll touch base later.”

  Johnson and Johnson. The account Reagan was assisting with. How could I have forgotten? I stood
and pulled on my suit coat. “Wait up. I’ll join you,” I quickly said, probably too eager. But I hadn’t seen her in three days, and desperate times called for desperate measures.

  Chapter Eight

  Reagan

  Life was different after Charlie left. I celebrated my eleventh birthday in my room, hiding in the closet with Jacob and Alex. Charlie was no longer stationed outside the door, and our sense of security, however false or flimsy it may have been, was lost. It was now the three of us against the world, literally. There were no other family members waiting in the wings to whisk us all off to a Candyland paradise, taking us from the hellish squalor we lived in. I had no idea who our father was; did we have the same one or had Mom managed to get knocked up by four different men? I supposed the latter wasn’t much of a stretch, all things considered. Not that any man who had fathered us would have been worthy of raising any of us anyway. So it wasn’t as if the man, or men, would be coming around anytime soon to check on his offspring. As for grandparents, well, I knew we had them. But I’d never met them, Mom had never spoken of them, and if they were aware of any of us, they’d never made a single attempt to know us. Who knew if they were even still alive?

  No, we just had Mom. And while in her lucid, sober times she occasionally made a half-hearted attempt at making sure we were cared for, those times were few and far between. Things that should have been her responsibility had fallen to Charlie. It was he that would steal what money he could find from Mom’s room to buy food so we had something to eat. It was he that instilled in us to do our best at keeping our rooms clean, no matter that the rest of the house was covered in filth. It was he that made sure we attended school, even though we wore the same clothes year after year, until they became so small or worn he had to steal more from the local thrift shop. Now that he had left, these things fell to me and Jacob and we weren’t nearly as good at it as he had been.

  I used to wonder if Mom had ever really loved us. Had there been that moment upon discovering she was pregnant where she had lovingly touched her belly, imagining the child growing there and had made plans and wishes for our future? Or had she not cared? She had been a junkie for as long as I could remember, but I never knew if that was something she’d taken up before she’d had any of us, or after. I had always been told crack babies were born with defects, and none of us were, but then who really knew? Truth was, not much had been known about my mom’s early life, and it hadn’t been like she was exactly in a position to be forthcoming. When I had been younger, I had always held out hope that the woman who would sometimes dance with me in the living room would one day hold me in her arms, tell me she loved me, and take us all away from the horror. But I’d learned that the poison she injected into her veins was a lover that had consumed ever y part of her, so there was no room left for any of us. And I would soon learn to never ask or want to be held . . . ever again.