The Magnate's Manifesto

by Jennifer Hayward

  She was shaking. He folded her against his chest and held her there, his hands in her hair. “He’s bluffing.”

  She shook her head. “He brought in Gehrig.”

  “Gehrig was a natural choice. They’re an extremely hot brand. I’m surprised they didn’t include them from the beginning. It was a smart move on Alexander’s part.”

  She pushed away. “You need to send me home, Jared. This is crazy.”

  “Not happening. We have Project X. It’s going to win this for us. We stay the course, Bailey.”

  But he’d never wanted to use his secret launch. They had a whole strategic plan built around the products that involved an array of global partners. And now he was messing with that because of her past.

  She stalked past him to the closet, pulled her suitcase out and started throwing clothes in.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  She spun around. “I have to go. It’s the only way. If I’m gone, Alexander might lose interest and play fairly.”

  Hot color stained his cheekbones. “Have you been listening to anything I’ve said? He doesn’t care, Bailey. You are not a deciding factor. You are a pawn in his game. So forget anything but us going in there and winning the entire committee over. Making him make the right decision.”

  But what if Alexander didn’t do the right thing? She shook her head. “I can’t take that chance. I will not lose this deal for you.” She turned and started dumping her shoes into the bag, tears stinging the back of her eyes. Jared’s hands sank into her waist and spun her around.

  “How many times do I have to tell you I’m not doing this alone? We’re pitching this together and we’re winning.”

  Her gaze dropped to his perfectly knotted tie. A Windsor knot. Her favorite. And she wondered why, why was he doing this? Why was he backing her to his own detriment?

  Her mouth twisted. “He told me he wanted to have what you have. Ironic, isn’t it, when you don’t even want what I’m offering?”

  His gaze darkened to a deep, stormy blue. “You know that isn’t true.”

  “How?” She practically yelled the word at him. “I put myself out there for the first time in my life, we share what we shared and then you shut it down as if I’m totally expendable. A dime a dozen…because of your stupid rules.”

  His face tightened. “They aren’t stupid rules. They’re designed to ensure you don’t get hurt.”

  “They’re designed to ensure you don’t get hurt.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “They are what they are.”

  “Coward.” She hurled the word at him with all the hurt and confusion surging through her. “You talk about trust. You want me to trust you on this, to walk into this pitch with you when you won’t even be honest with yourself?”

  His cheeks stained deeper. “You want the truth, Bailey? You want to know what’s been eating at me? I’ve spent the entire evening, the entire week telling myself I can’t have you. Telling myself I will hurt you. When all I can think of is having you. Teaching you what it’s like to be with a man and pleasuring you so much you’ll never want another.” His blue eyes blazed into hers. “How messed up is that?”

  Her stomach contracted. Dammit, she wanted that. Jared had seen her, the real her, in Nice, and he still wanted her. She’d never felt so stripped down, so vulnerable, so needy of what another person had to offer in her life. And she wasn’t questioning it. Not anymore.

  “Then do it,” she murmured. “Forget about your rules.”

  “Bailey—”

  She silenced him with a finger to his lips. “I don’t want anything from you, Jared. I don’t want promises. I don’t want the homestead. But I do want to know what it’s like between us. It’s burning me up…”

  He went so still she wondered if he was still breathing. She stepped into him before he regained the control he always found and cupped his jaw with her palm. “Not one more word. I swear if you say one more word about your rules I’ll scream.”

  Those long lashes settled down over his eyes. Then he opened them and rested his gaze on her. “You sure you can handle this?”

  She stood up on tiptoe, balancing her palm against his chest. “You sure you can?”

  “No,” he muttered. “I am not.”

  He backed her up against the wardrobe, his suit-clad thigh sliding between hers, his hard gaze full of intent. Thought ceased as he rocked his mouth over hers and took it in a kiss that made her knees go weak. Over and over again, he tasted her, commanded her response until he was the only thing in her head. Until she moved against him and surrendered more of herself. As if he knew exactly what she needed in the way her body softened against his. In the way she accepted his tongue into her mouth and met the erotic slide of it against hers with a low, soft moan that told him she was fully his.

  When she was there, fully in step with him, he tangled his hand in her hair, arched her head back and took the kiss deeper, his insistent, bold strokes as he explored her mouth sending a hot, honeyed warmth through her. If he’d lifted his head and told her in that raspy voice of his how he would take her, he couldn’t have demonstrated more clearly. She moved against him again, needing more, and this time he dropped his hands down her back, cupped her bottom through the filmy material of her dress and brought her firmly against the hard length of him outlined against the fine material of his pants.

  Her half gasp, half sigh reverberated against his lips. His mouth left hers to trail a line of fire across her cheek to her ear. “Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart…you just might get it.”

  His fingers splayed across her bottom and moved her against him in a delicious slide against the hard, thick length of him, and intimidation faded on a wave of pure, unadulterated lust. She’d heard the other girls in the club going on about their sexual escapades as they’d dressed before a shift, but the way Jared made her feel was…insane.

  He trailed kisses down the length of her neck to the spot at the base that made her crazy. Made her squirm. Jared lifted his head with a curse, sank his hands into her waist and turned her around so her palms were flat against the wardrobe.

  “Enough of that if we’re making it anywhere near where we’re supposed to.”

  The rough tone of his voice sent a tremor through her. Being pressed up against the wardrobe made it tunnel deep inside. He lifted her hair away from her neck and resumed his kisses with a slide of his lips against her nape. The soft rasp of her zipper as he multitasked filled the air.

  The warm breeze from the French doors slid across her skin as he pushed the dress off her shoulders and let it fall in a swish of fabric to the floor. But it was Jared’s hands and lips as they worked their way down her back that had her full attention, making her arch into them and plead for more.

  She drew in a breath as he sank to his knees and pressed kisses against the rounded curve of her bottom. His hands were reverent, sure on her skin, as if he wanted to memorize every inch of her. Fire lit her belly, licked at her nerve endings. She was sure she wanted him to. And then he turned her around…

  His gaze swept up the length of her, from her legs still clad in high heels, over the curves of her hips and breasts encased in the barest hint of lace, and finally to her face. By the time he got there, she was flushed with self-consciousness and excitement so intense, her breath came in short pulls. Which deteriorated into no breath at all when he slid his fingers underneath the thin strips of silk that held her barely there panties in place and stripped them off.

  Her legs went another step toward jelly. If she’d hoped he’d lavish the same attention on her that he had on his knees in Nice, it wasn’t to be found as he stood, anchored her against the door and brought his mouth back to hers.

  “You are so gorgeous,” he murmured against her lips. “My words aren’t working.”

  She melted. Figuratively, of course, because she was still standing when he slid his palm up the inside of her thighs and pushed them apart. Still standing when he cupped the heat of her i
n his palm in an overt claim of ownership that had her pressing her hands against the wood to keep upright. Her mouth stilled against his, her gasp filling the air as he stroked her. She was hot and wet for him, so turned on she thought she might come apart with the lightest touch. But he claimed her with the slide of his finger instead.

  “You’ll come with me inside of you this time,” he muttered. “And not before.”

  Bailey tried to keep her head but there was no fighting the mind-numbing pleasure he gave her with the firm strokes of his hand. He urged her thighs wider and slid another finger inside her, stretching her, preparing her. It was so good she could have screamed with the pleasure of it. But he stopped before she could.

  “There will be a bed this time.” He slid his palm to the small of her back and gave her a gentle push toward it. “Maybe not the next.”

  She sat on the queen-size bed as he stripped off his clothes and revealed the incredible body she’d seen in swim trunks, but never in tight black boxers that emphasized how very well-endowed he was. Apparently the jokes had been true, she acknowledged with a hellishly dry mouth. Maybe she wasn’t so wise to choose him as her first….

  * * *

  If there was any way Jared could have gotten his clothes off faster, he would have. Bailey’s unabashedly intent look as he undressed, as if he was putting on a show for her pleasure, did something serious to his insides…left his composure hanging by a thread. And if he’d ever needed composure, now was the time. He’d never taken a virgin. Had no idea what made it a better experience for a woman. Add that to the fact that he’d never wanted anyone as much in his life as he wanted Bailey right now and there were all sorts of ways this could go.

  Blocking his mind to anything but her, he moved to the bed and took in how outrageously, spectacularly beautiful she was clad only in a lace bra, curled up with those never-ending legs beneath her. But it was her face that held him. Utterly vulnerable, yet tough at the same time. It was a combination he found irresistible.

  He sat down on the bed and pulled her into his lap. Turned her so her knees were on either side of him and they were face-to-face. “I have no idea how some man hasn’t persuaded you into bed with him before now, but at this moment, I’m glad of it.”

  She blinked. “That’s quite an admission, Mr. Manifesto.”

  His lips curved in a wry smile. “I think my rule book’s been gone for a while.”

  He watched her process that. Lifted her hair away from her shoulder and took a mouthful of smooth, silky skin, scoring the surface of the elegant curve with his teeth. He was so hard, so hot for her it took all his willpower to go slow. But that was what she needed and that was what he was going to give her. Even if it killed him.

  He slid his lips lower to the swell of her breasts above the lace. She moved her shoulders to help him as he slid the straps of her bra down and stripped it off. His hands moved over the weight of her silky, creamy flesh and cupped her breasts in his palms. She was so perfect, so exquisite, her shaky sigh as he brushed the pads of his thumbs over her rose-tipped nipples almost undid him.

  “You ready for me?” he murmured against her mouth. “Because I need to have you now.”

  The way she blindly sought his mouth, wound her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, was all the impetus he needed to turn and push her back on the bed. Her gaze was steady, trusting him completely as he ran his palm down her stomach and reclaimed the heat between her thighs.

  “I need a condom,” he rasped, a last sane thought entering his head. “I’ll be right back.”

  Her delicate fingers grasped his arm. “I’ve been on the Pill for years for cramps.”

  That was all the incentive he needed to slide his fingers inside her again, his smooth, rhythmical movements increasing in tempo as he brought her to a feverish, desperate state that would make his possession better for her. When she was twisting, writhing under him and begging for more, he stripped off his boxers and moved between her thighs.

  He captured her hands in his and pressed them back against the bed above her head so their fingers were entwined and their eyes locked. “I’m right here,” he murmured. “Every step of the way. Guide me.”

  She nodded. Her gaze clung to his as he brought the hard length of himself against her and teased her with it, back and forth until she closed her eyes and gave a soft moan. “Jared—”

  He eased inside her, just the tip to allow her to get used to his possession. She was tight, incredibly tight, and he shook with the control it took to stay there and not move. “Breathe,” he instructed huskily. Her chest rose as she did, depressed and rose as she took in another puff of air. And he felt her relax around him. He eased deeper, her flesh clenching him; accepting him and rejecting him all at the same time.

  “Bailey—” he demanded roughly, “you okay?”

  She nodded. “You feel…amazing.”

  His soft curse split the air. “Wrap your legs around me, sweetheart. I need more.”

  She did and he pushed deeper, a fraction at a time, stopping to let her adjust as he went. Finally, he reached the barrier he’d been waiting for, felt her flinch beneath him. He brought his mouth to hers. “I’ve got to hurt you for just a second and it’ll be over.”

  She nodded and closed her eyes. He claimed her fully, pushing through the barrier with a smooth, sure stroke that made her gasp and twist beneath him. He kissed her through it, holding himself completely, agonizingly still until her body relaxed around his and she sighed into his mouth.

  “That’s it,” he encouraged huskily, “stay with me. You’re good now.”

  He started to move, excruciatingly slowly although his rock-hard body was begging him to go faster. Their hands were still laced together, her eyes glued to his as he caressed her with his pulsing flesh, her muscles clenching him as he withdrew and entered her again and again until she was arching against him and taking him deep.

  “You feel so good,” he told her, her incredibly tight body fitting him like a glove, making him swell even bigger. “Tell me how you like it. How it feels…”

  Her eyes were glazed; she was just this side of incoherent. “So good,” she muttered. “So good. God, Jared, don’t stop—please…”

  He released a hand to cup the sexy curve of her hip. To anchor her to him so he could put more power behind his thrusts, hit her in that place that gave a woman the deepest, most powerful orgasm.

  “Talk to me,” he urged, dangerously close to the edge. “Tell me, Bailey.”

  “Amazing. It feels amazing. Jared—I don’t think I can—”

  He released her hands and reached between them, setting his thumb against the hard nub of her just above where their bodies were joined. Slowly, deliberately rotated it against her until her hips were writhing against his thumb. She threw her head back and came for him, her body clenching around his so fiercely, it took him only a few strokes to push himself into oblivion. His body exploded inside her, a hoarse cry tearing itself from his lungs as a shattering release swept over him.

  It was minutes, long minutes later before his body stopped shaking. Before the chill in the air stole over him. Bailey shivered, her legs still wrapped around him, his flesh buried in hers. And he wondered how he could still be semi-hard after that.

  He left the warmth of her body to push back the comforter and tuck her beneath it. Bailey protested, a tiny whimper that made him smile. “One second,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her lips. “I am not nearly done with you yet.”

  He found a bottle of water on the dresser and drank half of it down while he quite frankly tried to compose himself. Because that hadn’t been just sex. He felt open, raw, as if someone had stripped off his layers and left him exposed. And the instinct to roll over, to reclaim his power, pulsed through every cell.

  Bailey lay there sultry and replete, platinum hair spread across the pillow, gaze tracking him as he drank. Oblivious to the storm in his head. Watching her there, strong, sexy, unforgettable, the thought cro
ssed his mind that he could have her a million times and it would never be enough.

  His hand tightened around the bottle. That was truly crazy talk. No matter how much he’d wanted a woman in the past, it had always faded. Soured. Relationships ended. People got bored. It was just the way it was.

  He set the bottle down. Reached for her. Bailey studied his face as he took her in his arms. “You’re regretting this?”

  He shook his head. Lied. “I want more. And I’m not sure you’re ready.”

  She pulled his head down to hers and gave him a long, lingering kiss as her answer. It was all the encouragement he needed to stir to life. He curved his hand around her shoulder, slid it down to press against her shoulder blade and turned her over.

  “Jared—” she murmured, a question in her voice.

  “I want you this way,” he told her softly, pushing her hands apart and moving over her. It was testament to the trust they’d built that she stayed there, her breath picking up in rhythm as he nudged her knees apart, moved between them and pressed openmouthed kisses from the top of her spine to her waist. When she was fully relaxed and supple beneath him, he slid his hand between her legs and stroked her damp flesh.

  “Okay?”

  “Yes,” she moaned, shifting her legs farther apart, pushing up against his touch. It was all the invitation he needed to slide an arm beneath her, lift her and push inside her hot, welcoming flesh with a smooth thrust.

  This time he could move slower, build it up, enjoy every centimeter of her undeniably sweet body. When she dug her fingers into the comforter and came with a guttural moan, as if the control he was exerting over her turned her on as much as it turned him on, it destroyed him completely. She was more than a match for him in every way.

  He set a palm to the small of her back, held her where he wanted her and chased his own blindingly good release. When it came, tightening his limbs, sweeping through him like the lazy aftershock of a powerful tremor, he knew he’d never experienced such pleasure.