by A. C. Arthur
“You’re the one who’s been messaging me all this time?”
Leave it to Des to dive right in before anyone else in the room could talk. It’s what she did at meetings. Particularly when someone in a meeting was acting like she didn’t exist. He’d always admired her talent in the business arena and counted her as a very valuable asset to their company. Now, he had to consider if also being insanely attracted to the woman behind all the sexy words was worth jeopardizing the company’s biggest marketing asset.
“We’ve been messaging each other.” He wanted to make sure she accepted that they’d both created this scenario.
“Why? You can get a date by snapping your fingers. Why in the world would you go to a dating app?”
“First, it’s not technically a dating app—it’s a social networking app.” At least that’s what he liked to remind himself. The app certainly didn’t market itself as a dating app.
Her lips turned up in a familiar look that said he should know better. “With definite sexual undertones that begin with the name Dear Lover. That’s a marketing tactic they’re using. If they don’t say they’re a dating app, they don’t have to advertise like one and be lumped in with all the other apps claiming to help people find a happily ever after.”
She was right about that. Dear Lover didn’t promise clients anything more than an opportunity to socialize in a private setting. The privacy part had been the deciding factor in him joining.
“I signed up because I wanted someone to talk to, not to go out on the town with. Or be photographed with.” Or even to sleep with, because—as she’d alluded to—there was no shortage of women willing to fall into bed with him. No, he’d simply wondered if he’d enjoy talking to someone who didn’t know who he was or how much money he had. The answer to that was hell yes. He’d enjoyed conversing with her immensely.
Desta’s hands covered her face as she shook her head. “Okay.” A deep inhale followed by a huff of breath, and her hands fell away. “Well, we’ll just take off these badges and walk out of this resort. There’re a couple hundred people in that room so they won’t notice two are gone. We’ll go back to the city and act like this never happened.”
It was a good suggestion. Efficient, to the point and effective. Probably exactly what they should do. But Maurice wasn’t known for doing what he should do. He was the most reckless and unruly of the four Gold siblings—the one who was exactly as the media portrayed him when it came to lovin’ and leavin’ women. Except lovin’ only meant sex; there were no emotions other than lust involved with him and any of the women he dated. He probably should just agree with Des and get out of here, but nothing they did from this point on was going to erase from his mind the words they’d already shared.
“Or we could stay for the weekend and act like those two adults who’ve been exchanging their deepest and most coveted sexual cravings. The two people who’ve been looking forward to this time together to explore each other’s bodies in all the ways they’d described.” His pulse pounded with the realization that he was totally flying by the seat of his pants right now. How was the transition from friends to lovers going to work here? And was that what he really wanted? Did he want to have sex with Des? And why hadn’t he figured that out before tonight?
She offered a bemused smile. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No.” He touched her knee. “This is the part where I tell you how much I enjoyed our exchanges these last three months. It’s where I ask if you enjoyed them, too, and if so, what’s stopping us from going further?” Because the reasons he was giving himself to walk away seemed awfully flimsy right now. Why couldn’t two consenting adults have sex? Why did having sex have to ruin a business relationship, or a friendship, as long as they both knew what the limits were?
When she didn’t immediately respond, he continued. “It’s the part where I confess that all week I’ve been thinking about this woman who I’d never met face-to-face and how good it would feel to experience some of the things she and I had discussed. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought you’d be that woman. But here we are, and to be honest, I don’t think there’s any way I can forget what we’ve shared now.” She licked her lips, just a quick swipe of her tongue, and he knew there was no turning back. “I can only admit that finding out that you’re Dear Lover 1288 makes me even more interested in spending this weekend with you.”
CHAPTER TWO
MAURICE WAS RIGHT. There was no going back now. Her core throbbed at his words, and she closed her eyes with the second punch of lust to hit her since he’d arrived. But what was the right way forward? Was it spending this weekend with him, possibly exploring all the things they’d written about doing? Or was it walking away and, come Monday morning, trying to work together amid the intimate knowledge they now had of each other? Reclaiming her life had suddenly become more complicated.
“How would this weekend even work?” Because her body was sending signals that didn’t coincide with her brain’s advice to get the hell out of here.
Maurice shrugged. “We can either go back in there and mingle like everyone else. Or we can get dinner and then head to our rooms. Tomorrow’s agenda begins at nine with Morning Sex Mania and Make-Up and Mimosas at eleven.”
She leaned back on the couch, resisting the urge to sigh. Being frustrated about how things had turned out wasn’t going to change a damn thing. This was the hand she’d been dealt, and now she needed to figure out how she was going to manage the situation. “I mean, what happens on Monday morning when we walk into the office together?”
“You get to work way too early in the morning for me, so there’s zero chance we’ll be walking in together.”
Narrowing her eyes at him did nothing to kill the goofy grin he was wearing. “Don’t play, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“I know you’re taking this too seriously.”
“You’re not taking it seriously enough.” When it came to any type of interaction with men, she always took things seriously. She had no other choice. She’d been caught off guard before, and she wasn’t about to be in the position of having no control again.
Maurice shook his head quizzically. “Why should I? So what, we chatted on some message board for three months. That’s our private business, and we don’t have to answer to anyone for what we do in private. If we want to take those conversations to another level, same goes. It’s our decision.”
“I work for your father,” she said as if he didn’t already know. “And you’re just three steps shy of being called a manwhore across all media outlets. If anybody caught wind of the fact that we spent a weekend having freaky sex at a ski resort, we’d both be in for a whole lot of scrutinizing and questions. Is that what you want?”
His smile vanished and was replaced by a pensive look she rarely saw on him. All things considered, Maurice was a really good, down-to-earth guy. He was a fine-ass millionaire with an MBA in business and public relations, who loved his mother—and his whole family—profusely. Laughing was his favorite pastime, and hot ’n’ spicy was his favorite food group. They’d worked well together, which was great because a lot of times their roles at RGF in marketing and PR overlapped. Even knowing all that, there’d never been a day or a moment that she’d ever considered sleeping with him.
Until now.
“You know me better than that, Des. I’ve never moderated my steps to appease anybody, and I’m damn sure not starting now. You’re the woman I’ve been having very intimate conversations with. That makes you the woman I want to spend this weekend getting to know a whole lot better.” His tone remained serious, his gaze holding hers. “What we decide to do on Monday morning will be our decision, and that’s it. An option that’s not on the table is keeping secrets. Now, I’m not saying we take out a front-page ad describing what we’re doing, but I’m not going to hide from the world the way Riley and Chaz tried to do.”
“You never stay with a woman past three dates, anyway.” The words sounded much saltier than she’d intended and implied that she’d paid more attention to his personal life than she had.
“You’re not a woman I would’ve ever asked on a date.”
That was a sharp retort, and for a few seconds she wondered how she should reply. “Because you know I’m not as gullible as the women you date, and I would never fall for that now is now and later is whatever I say it is speech you like to give them.”
He raised his gloriously thick and well-maintained eyebrows, giving her a barely amused look. “Stating my terms up front is safer for all involved.”
This man really was way too handsome and charming for his own good. His tawny-brown complexion was just a shade darker than her own creamy, light brown skin tone. His thick wavy hair was jet black, cut close on the sides, and his walnut eyes had the power to assess with scrutiny or melt with desire. She was somewhere in the middle of those sensations right now as he stared at her.
Her gaze didn’t waver even when she leaned forward again. “Then, I’ll be the one to state my terms first this time, so there’ll be no confusion.”
With a smirk he raised open arms and said, “Be my guest.”
Smug and sexy was a deadly combination.
“We’ve paid for this weekend and come all this way, so we might as well stay. Participation in any of the items on that agenda have to be discussed and mutually agreed upon. Before we leave on Sunday, we’ll talk about next steps. I don’t make it a habit of flaunting my personal business at work, but I’ve never been one to hide my truth, either.”
The latter wasn’t totally honest. There’d been a time—way too long ago, now that she thought back on it—that she’d lost herself and hadn’t known which way to go to save whatever part of her was left. But that time had passed, and she’d be damned if she’d start down that road ever again. To prove that point she’d decided to spend this weekend with Maurice, but that decision was in no way acquiescence to his wants. She fully planned to call the shots concerning whatever they did for the next two days. If she wasn’t feeling it, she wasn’t doing it, no matter what Maurice said or did. She wasn’t operating under his thumb anymore, doing whatever he said just to keep the peace or to keep him from... With an inner shake she reminded herself that Maurice wasn’t her ex-fiancé.
“Sounds good to me.” A nod followed his quickly spoken words. “You wanna know what else sounds good? The BBQ ribs and homemade potato salad I saw on the menu for a little restaurant just down the road. We can be there in ten minutes.” He stood as if he were about to get his coat and head out, with or without her.
Desta stood, too. “I could eat.” She’d worked right up until leaving her house a little after three this afternoon. It was almost seven thirty now.
“Then, let’s go, Dear Lover 1288.” Offering her a bent elbow, he smiled bright like he’d just won the lottery.
She certainly wasn’t worth millions of dollars, nor did she like thinking of herself as any type of prize, but she did hook her arm in his. “I think we know each other well enough to forego those usernames now.”
“We probably know each other better than any of those people in that room.” He’d started walking toward the coat-check desk.
“I guess you could say that.” Maurice moved quickly, turning to face her, cupping a hand to her chin.
His gaze held hers as if they were both searching for something they’d never seen before. A tingle began at the base of her neck, moving quickly throughout her body until she felt alive in a way she never had before.
“I might not know the exact odds of this happening, but I’d say they were definitely in our favor.” He moved in slowly, like he wanted to give her time to decide if she wanted what was certainly coming next.
Did she want it? And from him, no less?
Her answer was to remain still, to wait and see how this would play out. It began with a warm brush of his lips over hers, and the desire she’d felt upon first seeing him expanded. It flooded her mind and her body until she couldn’t help but lean into him. His eyes remained open and fixated on her as he eased back slightly, then came in again, touching his lips to hers once more. This time there was no retreat. He slipped his tongue inside next, and all thoughts of odds, words and champagne flutes fled her mind.
* * *
He’d planned to wait. Tonight was supposed to be for getting to know Dear Lover 1288 better on a face-to-face basis. Did she fidget when she talked? Was she as pleasant in person as she’d been via email? Did she talk while chewing? That kind of stuff. But then, when he’d learned it was Des...well, he was counting that as a win. He already knew she had perfect table manners, almost to the point of being annoying, especially when she dabbed her napkin at her lips so daintily. She was always composed, so no fidgeting. No tripping over her words, just concise statements, eye contact and an air of confidence that he admired. All of that meant there was no need to wait a polite amount of time before getting his hands—and lips—on her.
Especially not when she’d laced her arm in his, standing so close the heady sophisticated scent of her perfume permeated his senses. Coupled with all those words they’d shared via email, it was a wonder he hadn’t actually pushed her dress up and buried his face between her legs the way he’d written he was going to do.
For now, the kiss was enough, especially since she’d leaned into him with as much anticipation as he felt swirling around the pit of his stomach. Craving more of her, he let his hands slide until they were at her waist. Then he eased them down to grip her hips and hold her steady against his unabashed erection.
“Well. Well. Well. There goes my bar partner.” Rousing laughter accompanied with clapping had Des breaking the kiss.
“Kelli? Hey.” She stepped back from Maurice, touching her fingers to her lips before dropping her arms to her sides.
“Hey, girl.” The redhead came closer, her giddiness still apparent in the way she looked from Des to him. “Here, rub my hand so I can have the same luck as you.” Never taking her gaze off him, the woman reached out so Des could touch her hand.
Des—in a move that was way too similar to what he would’ve done—ignored her hand. “Yes. This is my meetup, so I won’t be joining you at the bar tonight.”
Kelli, who obviously didn’t mind Des not playing along with her, returned that hand to prop on one hip. Her gaze was hungry and assessing, and Maurice felt uncomfortable only because his dick was hard but not for her.
“I don’t blame you at all.” Kelli was very open with her appraisal of him, but it was nothing Maurice wasn’t used to.
“If you’ll excuse us, Kelli, we’re going to have dinner,” he said. What would happen after the meal was completely up to Des, but he was leaning toward them sharing one room instead of returning to their individual spaces for the evening.
Kelli’s smile was agreeable and knowing. “Sure. Dinner. Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you two around.”
Glancing over her shoulder she winked at Des before giving Maurice one last head-to-toe look of appreciation. “Have fun, y’all.”
“You sure made friends fast,” he told Des after Kelli was gone.
Still staring after the woman with an incredulous scan, Des shook her head. “She approached me, but I get the impression she’s harmless. This is her second Dear Lover meetup.”
“So she’
s experienced.”
“That or she’s unlucky in the guys she’s choosing to socialize with.”
They fell into step again, this time without him touching her. Another public display like the one Kelli had just interrupted wasn’t a good idea, and while he didn’t make a habit of hiding from the media like his siblings—he couldn’t in his line of work—he wasn’t game for his private life being on display unnecessarily.
Stanley, the guy at the coat-check desk, was quick to accept their tickets and return. He also made no secret of how he hated the moment when Maurice helped ease Des’s long wool coat over her shoulders. Normally, Maurice didn’t feel any type of way when another guy looked at his date. He was drawn to beautiful and attractive women—that was no secret—and he subscribed to the look but don’t touch model where other men were concerned. Stanley’s look toward Desta was nothing short of lustful, and Maurice felt a little twinge of annoyance at that.
They bundled up in coats and gloves, and Des even pulled on a fur-trimmed hat before they began walking down the road. “Why Dear Lover instead of a traditional dating app?” she asked.
While there was snow all around, the sidewalks were impeccably cleared, which worked out well since Des wasn’t wearing boots but instead had on a pair of the sexiest, strappiest black heels he’d ever seen.
“You already said I don’t need help finding a date.” Agreeing with her knowledge of his dating life had never bothered him before, but now—considering how his reputation might look in her eyes—there was a spark of regret. “Besides, the app promotes the socializing aspect much more than hard-core dating. Just like you pointed out before, there was no jargon about finding your perfect match or testimonials from couples who’d met up and married afterward.”
“True. That’s part of the reason I signed up. I’m not really into computers playing matchmakers for anything long-term.” She crossed her arms over her chest against the bitter chill in the air.