by Abby Wood
"What are you saying? I held you in the bathroom. I saw—"
"I know." She squeezed his hands. "I saw someone that I never wanted to see while we were there, and I freaked out. Big time."
"Who?" he asked.
She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. He's not important."
"He?" He stood, and she held on to his hands until he ripped them out of her grasp. "Who was he?"
"Nathan. Let it go. I don't—"
"The fuck I will." He grabbed his shirt off the chair and shoved his arms in the sleeves. "What is this guy to you? An old lover?"
"God, no." She jumped off the bed. "Stop for a minute."
He tucked the end of his shirt in his pants. "I told you. If someone hurts you, he's going to deal with me."
"Dammit. Will you stop and listen to me." She slipped her nightgown over her head. "This has nothing to do with you."
"You have everything to do with me, and if some guy makes you puke your guts out and makes you keep your problems buried inside of you and away from me, then yeah, it has everything to do with me." He strode to the dresser, removed a pair of socks. "You can either tell me or I'll beat the truth out of you."
"God! Will you listen to me?" She grabbed his socks and ripped them out of his hands. "You can't say a word to anyone, especially not him."
"Don’t." His jaw ticked and he stood over her. "I think you've forgotten who controls our relationship."
The low timber of his voice stopped her from yelling at him. Aware she'd pushed him too far, and he wasn't handling the truth, she retreated. He continued watching her. Under his intense study, she turned away and walked to the window. Nathan was going to make everything worse.
In his anger, he'd find out the truth. Knowing him, he'd confront everyone he remembered from that night, and since there were only a handful of people in the building, it wouldn't be hard to put the pieces together. In fact, she was surprised he hadn't realized she was fine in the elevator and the only person they ran into afterward was her father.
She sensed Nathan behind her a second before he had her hair fisted in his hand and her head snapped back. He'd startled her, but she wasn't scared or hurting. She understood his anger.
His emotions came out in a way most people expressed themselves with words. Instead of talking with her, he bulldozed his way through anyone standing in his way to finding his place where he could accept a situation. This time, she had a feeling he wanted to make her world okay, and she wasn’t used to someone supporting her.
He arched her neck and sucked on her neck. "Give me his name."
The strong tug on her skin broke her stubbornness. "I will, but you have to promise to listen."
She winced. There was no way the mark he put on her neck would be gone on Monday. "Nathan, please."
He whispered into her ear, but the tone wasn't gentle. "I'm not letting you get away with keeping a secret from me. When you're done, I'll show you what happens when you lie to me."
Her legs folded and he caught her under the arms. He eased her down until her knees hit the wooden floor, and she inhaled deeply with relief. "It's Curt Stewart."
"Fuck," he muttered. "I'll take him out."
"N-no, you can't," she said.
"I need—He undid the buttons on his jeans and fisted his cock—fucking distract me, before I do something we'll both regret."
She pushed his hand away and took him in her mouth. The desperation etched in the way his hand shook as he caressed her cheek and the unforgiving stance was a familiar one. His dick hardened in her mouth, filling the space, and the power of being the one who brought him to the state of arousal empowered her.
She could do this for him. He needed her. She had a feeling he had no idea how much— behind his control, his temper, his dominance— she loved being able to give him comfort. She had a hunch, not many people had ever seen him the way he was right now, holding himself back for her. The change in him turned her on as much as when he forced her to obey.
"Suck me hard," he said.
She drew him farther into her mouth, until her cheeks hurt and he filled her completely. Unable to move, because Nathan directed the movement of her head, she used her tongue, her lips, and her throat to bring him satisfaction. In a way her brain couldn't process, she wanted to open herself until nothing remained between them.
Every secret told.
Every desire freed from shame.
Every barrier torn down.
Nathan went to the balls of his feet and arched his hips forward. His hold, painful and constant, pulled at her head, and she greedily accepted every bit of his attention as if she'd starved her whole life and he was finally feeding her. Saliva coated her lips, and she breathed through her nose, taking more of his hardness.
"That's it," he said, groaning his release.
Seated deep in her throat, his come filled her mouth and she gulped to keep from spilling a drop. She panted, heightened to an intoxicating level.
Nathan pulled out of her and tucked his cock into his jeans, then picked her up. He sat on the bed, and she wrapped herself around him. Face to face, entwined, she gazed into his eyes.
The tension around his brows and mouth gone, he smoothed the hair away from her face and seemed lost in thought. She framed his face in her hands. Her whole life she'd kept her secret. She swore to her mother she'd go to her grave never telling a soul who her father was. For her own sanity, she wanted to divest herself of the one thing that weighed heavy on her mind, and tell Nathan.
He'd never let Curt Stewart hurt her.
She knew Nathan would die protecting her.
"When my mother became pregnant with me, the man—my father—denied he was the man who got her pregnant." She stroked her thumb along his lips. "He became so violent and ugly, my mother feared for her life. In fact, he said if my mother tried to put any claim on him, he'd have her killed…and me too."
"What are you saying?" His fingers dug into her hips. "Tell me you're not talking about Curt—"
"Yes. Curt Stewart is my father." She laid her finger on his lips. "He doesn't know me. As far as I know, he doesn't have a clue I am Carly Flint's daughter. That's why I ran before you could finish introducing me. He's never seen me. My mother made sure I never went close to him and frankly, I never want to be near the man. That's why I didn't want to go with you to the meeting. I couldn't chance running into him, or I'd put you in danger too. Whatever happens, you must promise me that you'll never tell him."
"Baby…" He embraced her, holding her tightly. "I know Curt rather well. I'll talk with him after I beat the shit out of him."
"No!" She pushed against him and grabbed his shoulders. "You can't. I never would've told you if I thought you'd go behind my back. I trust you. Please don't break that trust, because I don't know if I can…if I can do what we do, what we have together if I can't trust you all the way."
"There's doubt?" he asked. "Fuck, doll. I brought you into my life. Does that mean anything to you?"
"I don't know," she whispered. "Everything happened so fast, and this isn't normal for me."
His mouth hardened and he continued to study her.
"Don't get me wrong. I love it," she said on an exhale. "But, it also scares me. After reading…I'm on information overload. One minute, I think I understand why I let you—"
"Why do you?" He lifted her chin. "Let me in. Tell me why you practically beg me to put my hand to you."
She leaned forward and put her lips to his ear. "Because no one has ever touched me for the simple reason of giving me pleasure. I'm not even sure if anyone has ever truly loved me before. When you focus all your attention on me it's the best feeling in the world. When you make me feel, I know you've touched me and I'm reminded of your touch with every sore muscle, bruise, mark you put on my body even when you're not by my side and I feel like I'm no longer invisible. I know deep inside myself, I belong to you. And, whether you feel that way toward me or not, it doesn't matter because for that minute,
that hour, that day, you're the first and only person who has ever touched me."
His throat muscles spasmed against her hand. "And what happens the next day?"
"I'm scared to death and want to run away because I know in the end, when you tire of me, when you realize I'm not good enough for you, I won't survive being without you."
Chapter Twenty-One
Addison stood before Nathan with her hands on her hips, her breasts incredibly high, and madder than he'd ever seen her. He leaned back in his office chair and put his feet up on the desk. He'd ignored her for five minutes when she'd barged into his office on the seventh floor and shut the door behind her.
But, he was done disregarding her. She'd worn herself out, and he was highly aroused. She had no idea how irresistible she appeared to him when she put on her serious face, stuck her nose in the air, and tried to put him in his place.
"I mean it, Nathan. Call your thug off or I'll cause a scene big enough your employees will talk about it for months." She glared.
"Come here," he said.
"No." She looked away from him. "I'm perfectly safe while at work. There's no reason to have someone watching the building. Today, I could've sworn the guy you hired tailed me on a client run. Tailed, Nathan. Do you know what that feels like?"
He clasped his hands behind his head and stretched back farther. "Get over here."
"You infuriate me," she mumbled, stomping around to the other side of his desk.
"Sit on the desk and hike your skirt up a little. I haven't seen you all day. I've missed you." He moved his feet to the side.
Addison slipped her heels off and jumped on his scheduling chart. "Please, let me do my job alone."
"Widen your knees," he said.
Her gaze went to the corner of the room, but she spread her legs. He dropped his feet to the floor and swiveled his chair until she was in reach. "Antonio is taking care of what is mine."
He slid his hand along the inside of her thigh. With no hesitation, he shoved her panties to the side, and his finger entered her hard. She gasped and her hands went back to brace herself on the desk.
"Now, you can either quit going out with your clients or lock your building door during the hours you work or deal with Antonio hanging around." Without taking his finger out of her, his thumb found her clit. "Antonio has instructions only to follow you if he's suspicious of anyone, and once he feels comfortable with your safety, he eases back."
"I don't think it's necessary to—oh, God." She briefly closed her eyes as his middle finger joined the first inside her.
Damn she was tight. And wet. And fucking sexy.
"I do think. You're important to me, and I won't put your life at risk." He wanted to fuck her on the desk, but with a meeting in ten minutes, enjoying Addy more would have to wait. "Remember what I told you. No one is allowed to harm you. You're mine."
She panted, lost in the pleasure he brought her. He rolled his chair forward and leaned between her legs. He pushed against her thighs with his arms and eased his fingers out of her. She moaned a protest that was quickly replaced with an oh-God-yes when his lips sealed around her clit.
The enlarged bud peeked out of the hood and he swiped his tongue over her. Her womanly scent sent his blood surging through him, leaving him lightheaded. He could spend all day between her legs and never tire or become accustomed to the heady high she gave him.
Her legs trembled against his head. He hooked his arm around her hips, holding her in place. His attention directed on the very part of her that'd bring her release faster than she could control. He stroked, caressed, nibbled. Finally, she stiffened, her thighs clamping down on him. He exhaled a sigh, lapping up the added wetness between her legs.
When her tremors slowed, he eased away and rolled his chair back. He stood and entered the attached bathroom, washed, and returned to the office with a wet paper towel.
Addison stood next to the desk, her dress back in place. Color dotted her cheeks and her gaze trailed him under eyelids that went half-mast. He approached and kissed her, wishing they were home and he could share how addicting her flavor was to him. But, he had a meeting and his cock, which demanded attention, needed a distraction.
"Are we straight?" He adjusted the crotch of his pants.
"Yeah," she whispered, quickly wiping herself before throwing away the used paper in the wastebasket. "I don't like it, but I'll deal with it because that was hot. Really freaking hot."
He chuckled. "I need to get to a meeting across the street. I'll walk you out."
"Okay." She glanced down and a soft breath escaped her lips at the state of his arousal. "Can I…?"
"No." He put his hand on her lower back and led her to the door. "Tonight you can take care of me. I'll pick you up at the office. Don't be late."
She waited until they were in the elevator. "I'm going to be late."
He frowned, wondering why she'd say such a thing, and saw the way her eyes danced. "Then you'll be in trouble."
She leaned into him. Her hand went to his stomach, and her mumbled reply had him trying not to smile. She wanted to disobey.
The elevator doors opened, and he slid his hand down and grabbed her fingers into his palm. For the first time, she'd shown herself to him without any urging on his part. Her admittance came freely and that pleased him.
On the sidewalk, he lifted his chin at Antonio but direction his attention to Addison. "Are you meeting a client?"
"Yes. The last one for the day." She curled into the front of him and lifted her face. "Would it be horrible if I kiss you out here where everyone can see us?"
"Do you think I'd beat you if you tried?" he asked back.
She pursed her lips. "I don't think you would."
"Then you don't know me very well." He wound his arms around her and slapped her ass with his hand. "Don't tempt me, doll."
She laughed. He smiled down on her face, enjoying the carefree emotions she showed. He wanted to capture her spirit and keep it with him.
The polar opposite of her, he couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed because something or someone pleased him or a moment struck him as humorous. Yet, the last two weeks, he'd become lighter. That was the only way to explain the way the tension eased in his chest and he was able to inhale to completion.
He'd marked the improvement in his own life on physically releasing the darkness. Addison gave him his outlet. But for how long would he be content with what they shared together before he needed more?
A few spanks, a couple of slaps, and taking her as roughly as his body demanded catered to his needs now. What happened when he'd grow immune and want to unleash? He could end up hurting her, and he found out there was a difference in causing her pain and wounding her soul.
"Get going." He kissed her. "Let Antonio take you to your pickup."
"See you later then?" She walked backward until he nodded, and then twirled away with a smile, giving him a jaunty wave over her shoulder.
He glanced at his watch. Shit.
Five minutes late for his meeting, he checked the street and took an opening in the traffic. Jaywalking, he hurried toward the Stewart building. Wishing he could go home with Addison and skip the meeting, he pushed through the doors, rode the elevator to the fifth floor, nodded at the receptionist, and walked into the conference room ready to throw down business and get the hell out of there.
"Afternoon, gentlemen." He stood at the head of the table.
Janice already supplied the material needed for the meeting, and he knew every detail without looking at his notes. He directed them to the first page. Business came easy to him.
Whether on the street, jacking cars, or sitting at the table discussing a twelve billion dollar expansion to the Sears Tower and bringing in over twenty new office buildings, the subject matter was a game. An entertaining way to make money and come out ahead, and he enjoyed the challenge.
"Do you have a deadline in mind," John Bieker, attorney at law, addressed him.
&nb
sp; He loved this part. "I'm willing to give you five minutes. Walk away from the table, and I have no problem with providing the funds myself. I'm opening this venture up for partnerships right now. You know the benefits, and it would be foolish to turn the opportunity down. Or, you can walk away, knowing you just threw away at least a ten million dollar profit the first year. Your choice, gentlemen. Are you going to play?"
Terry Longtan and Bruce Carlson stood. He ignored them, and looked at the others, bored with the meeting. Professor Frank taught him well.
He was in control. Nobody owed him. They should cater to his needs.
He took his skill at wearing a poker face and not giving a shit. Because he was different from every single man at the meeting, he had power over them. His emotions didn't enter into the equation. These men were beneath him. Raised with a hand in their daddy's bank account, the others in the room knew nothing about fighting for survival. They'd die on the streets.
He played them for entertainment purposes only. He could take or leave the game. Money meant nothing.
"All right. Sign the paper work, fax it to my office by—he peered at his watch—five thirty five, and we'll get the notarized papers back to you by currier at six o'clock on the dot." He nodded his chin, pivoted, and walked out the door before anyone could utter a word or question him.
The high he usually felt was lacking. He rode the elevator down to the lobby. Instead of an adrenaline rush, he wanted to pick up Addy.
With her, he'd work toward achieving the fulfillment he craved. He loosened his tie as he walked through the automatic doors out to the sidewalk.
Curt Stewart walked toward him. "Rafferty."
Four inches shorter and twenty odd years older, Stewart didn't intimidate him. In fact, he felt nothing but disgust. He willed himself not to clench his hand and deck the man on the spot. He'd promised Addison, and until he knew more about the situation, he'd bide his time.
He stopped. "Stewart."
"Damn" Curt grimaced. "I was on the way to the meeting, but met with Colson of Colson and Langley. You know how they talk. Hell if I could get away.