Unbelievable

by Callie Harper

  And wonder, why would he care about who I dated or whether I was over them or not? This man had to be a grade-A player. He was a billionaire, or at least at the helm of a company valued at a billion dollars, I didn’t know how all that worked. And I never would. We lived in two completely different worlds. We’d happened to collide for a brief, strange moment, but that would surely be all.

  “There’s no reason you’d care about whether or not I’m over my last boyfriend.” It wasn’t an accusation or an attempt to get him to protest. It was a mere statement of fact.

  “Yet, strangely enough I do.” He looked down at me in the shadowy light, part moon, part street lamp. “And I’m glad you’re over him.” Brushing his knuckles lightly along my cheek, he cherished me with his touch. I had to look down. It suddenly felt so intimate.

  “Well, I’m glad I’m getting to you,” I joked, awkward with how serious he seemed. “My friend Hannah did tell me to use my feminine charms to persuade you to not build the resort here.”

  “Oh, I’m still building the resort here,” he assured me, not missing a beat. He didn’t even take his hand away from my cheek. But I pulled away.

  “What?” Had I heard him correctly?

  “I’m still building here. That’s not in question.” Arrogance, thy name was Colton Kavanaugh. My mouth fell slightly open. He really wasn’t trying to sweet talk me, was he? He apparently assumed everyone ate out of the palm of his hand no matter what he did. Despite my reaction, he kept right on with the seduction. “What I also want to do while I’m in town is sample what you have to offer.”

  “Is that right?” I drew myself up to my full height plus heels. “Well, it’s your lucky day because I do have something to offer you.” I held up my middle finger right in front of his face. “How do you like that? Is that to your liking?”

  He looked down at it, unphased. Then he looked back up at me with an amused smirk. “It’s not what I had in mind.”

  “I’m done here!” I declared starting to spin on my heels.

  “Wait, there’s something I want to show you first.”

  Before I knew what was happening he wrapped his arms around me and brought his head down to mine, capturing my mouth with his in a searing, dominant kiss. His hands holding me close, his lips searched mine. I found my arms up then around his shoulders, my hands buried in his hair, entwining around him, grabbing, clutching. He kissed me so deeply, so fervently, his tongue at once so teasing and rewarding, exploring and claiming. I wanted more of him, more of his hard body pressed against mine, more of his lips and tongue and hands roaming down along my ass, cupping me, pressing me against him.

  Dazed, swooning, I looked up at him as he broke our kiss, still holding me in his arms as he looked down into my eyes.

  “You see how good that felt, Caroline?” he asked, low and wicked as he restored me to standing. Breathless, I needed to hold onto his arms to gain my footing. What strong, hard biceps.

  “That’s what I wanted to show you,” he continued. “How good I can make you feel. That’s just a taste of how it’s going to be between us.”

  My fingers ran lightly along my lips, still feeling his kiss there, already missing it.

  “Now tonight, Caroline, I want you to do something for me.” His eyes grew dark as he leaned in to my ear, his hand lightly cupping the swell of my breast, thumb at my stiff nipple. “I know your sweet pussy is already slick and wet for me.” I gasped at his dirty words. He stroked the pad of his thumb over my aching tip.

  “When you get home,” he continued, “I want you to slip your hand down and think about me. Imagine everything I’m going to do to you. I want you touch yourself and think about all those fantasies you’ve had, everything you’ve wanted to explore. And when you come on your pretty little fingers I want you to call out my name. And know the orgasms I’ll give you are going to be even better.”

  He released me. Wide-eyed, I turned and walked to my car without saying a word. I didn’t think I could talk. I felt so shocked and turned on and confused and so desperately horny I did the only thing I knew to do. I opened my car, got behind the wheel, started the engine and drove right out of the parking lot.

  I made it home. I’d had a single beer, total, so I was OK to drive. The giddy, laughing, crazy whirling-around way I felt? That wasn’t the alcohol. That was all due to Colton Kavanaugh.

  I wish I could say I was a good girl. That I got home, had a responsible chat with my younger sister checking in on how her nursing rotations were going, changed into sensible pajamas and turned out the light.

  But I didn’t. My sister wasn’t home. And his instructions were too fucking hot. I barely made it into my bedroom before I unbuttoned and ripped off my jeans. My fingers down under my panties, I closed my eyes and moaned. I was already so wet. All that touching and flirting at the bar, the way his hand had felt on my hip, pulling me toward him. His voice, low and demanding, telling me to spread my legs. And that kiss.

  I stroked myself just like he’d told me, and that turned me on even more, knowing I was obeying his discipline, following his naughty rules, stroking and circling my throbbing clit. I’d been so aroused, with the seam of my jeans pressing against me the whole ride home. It happened fast, a wild orgasm building up and then tearing through my whole body.

  “Colt!” I called out, mouth open wide, eyes closed, fingers up inside my pussy as I shuddered and bucked against my own hand. Panting, gasping, quivering, I couldn’t believe how strong it felt.

  And then I remembered the last thing he’d said. The orgasms he’d give me would be even better.

  CHAPTER 5

  Colt

  My night in Palo Alto went as planned. Fine wine, fine dining, fine company. I felt as restless as a tiger in a cage without a fresh meal.

  It wasn’t like me. I enjoyed what I did for a living. True, I hadn’t exactly chosen it. I’d more been born into it. I’d risen to expectations.

  And, true, every now and then I felt…constrained. Growing up I’d been the rock for my mother, the golden boy for my father, and now I stood at the helm stewarding the entire Kavanaugh fortune. It was a lot to handle every day. But I was tough as hell and smart as a whip and all the rest of it. I knew how to get by on five or six hours of sleep a night, wake up before dawn no matter where I was or what I’d done the night before to get in a killer workout. Physically sharp, mentally sharp. Emotionally? Closed off. That made the most sense.

  But I generally enjoyed the pressures of my day-to-day life, the wheeling and dealing, crafting strategy and dodging bullets. I had immense power at my fingertips and it was enough—more than enough—to keep me engaged every minute of every day.

  Yet during dinner, I felt distracted. My collar was a little tight. I kept checking my phone. I confirmed and then re-confirmed my planned departure time tomorrow morning.

  I wanted to go see Caroline Porter again.

  Later on, I lay awake in my lavish hotel suite. I was right at the epicenter of the tech industry in Silicon Valley, ideas and opportunities and new enterprises literally pop-corning all around me. And instead of thriving off of the frenetic energy, diving right in, rolling up my sleeves, mucking around with all the other entrepreneurs, I wondered what was cooking in Redwood Bay, Oregon.

  She baked. How about that? Scones and muffins and breads. Apparently pastries were difficult, though. Her eyes had lit up with the challenge when she’d talked about it. That shy reserve, the sweet struggle I so enjoyed watching in her and toying with as she attempted to resist her attraction to me? She’d forgotten all about it once she’d started talking about her passion.

  Baking. I didn’t think I’d ever known anyone who’d baked. Was that strange? It had never struck me as strange before. But now I wondered what I’d been missing. It almost seemed like an endeavor from a former era, a time gone by. A day when you couldn’t have anything and everything you wanted delivered to your doorstep within hours, including whatever gourmet baked good you might be craving
.

  But that still wasn’t the same as fresh out of the oven, now was it? And I had the most delightful image of Caroline taking out something delicious and piping hot, pulling it apart and stealing a taste before it really even was cool enough but it would be too hard to wait. She’d close her eyes to savor the flavor, her tongue darting out to catch crumbs, a soft moan it tasted so good.

  Now I was hard. Damn it. I shifted my position in bed. And wondered whether she’d followed my instructions tonight. I shouldn’t have grabbed her and kissed her like that in the parking lot. That wasn’t my style. I didn’t do impulse and lord knew I never chased women. On the rare occasion that a woman didn’t show interest, I let her walk away, her loss. Who was worth the time and effort of a chase?

  Caroline. That delicious struggle she put up in the bar, the way her body called out to me every time I stole a touch, brushed against her, adjusted her stance. Even though she wanted to fight it.

  And it sounded like she had reason to protest our plans to build the resort. We were going to demolish her store? No one had told me that. I couldn’t get into the details of every one of our construction sites, of course, but I should have been briefed on that piece of information before I’d shown up to deal with the protests. Then again, the protests had officially been over an endangered species of lichen. That I’d heard about.

  But I was sure we could do something about her store, if not re-consider the placement of the parking, perhaps we could discuss compensation. In fact, someone should have already been on that. I grabbed my phone off the bedside table and sent a quick text. My team was used to my all-hours style of communications. You wanted to make the kind of money we made at Kavanaugh Investors, you signed away your life to the company. There was no such thing as time off.

  I, personally, had never experienced time off. I’d taken vacations, of course, to gorgeous and exotic locations, but I never actually unplugged. When you ran an international company with stakes in far-flung ventures all over the world, business traveled with you. Every meal was an opportunity to network, every moment filled with an ever-changing list of Must Do On Fire items.

  I’d like some time off with Caroline, though. With my phone conveniently dropped into a tank of water and the door locked to whatever room we occupied. When I’d taken a chance earlier tonight and grabbed her, clasped her in my arms, pulled her to my chest and kissed her, she’d melted against me instantly. Signing, clinging, kissing me back with such an aching desire. I’d known the spark between us was hot, but to get that turned on from just a kiss?

  I brought my hand down to my cock, bulging and erect in my briefs. I’d told her to touch herself tonight. Had she? I slipped my hand under the waistband and wrapped it around my shaft. Stroking leisurely, taking my time, I wondered what she’d done when she’d gotten home. Had she resisted the urge, tried to go right to bed like a good girl but then tossed and turned, unable to sleep until she gave in? Or had she caved right away, stepping out of her jeans the second she got into her bedroom and plunging her hand down to her sweet pussy?

  She’d gotten wet from our flirting, I could tell. The way her breath caught in her chest. How she bit down on her lip. When I placed a hand around her waist, she’d leaned into me, wanting more of my touch. And out at the limo, her amazing breasts, so full and ripe. When I’d kissed her, her nipples had stiffened with arousal, pushing against her bra, her T-shirt, making me crazy.

  I needed to get her alone so I could treat her right. Take that nipple right into my mouth and play with her, suck her, lick and bite and listen to her moan. She’d need to be tied up to let me do it. Otherwise she’d be too shy, too reserved and shocked to let me take my time the way I needed. So she’d have to give up control. I couldn’t wait to see her bound again, those sensitive wrists I’d stroked tied together but to my bedpost this time where she could pull and twist and scream as much as she wanted while I played.

  Damn it. I sat up. What was I doing, jerking off like a teenager? I didn’t want to come in a goddamned gym sock. I wanted to come all over Caroline’s huge, ripe tits. She could spread it all over her breasts, feeling how I’d marked her while I ate out her pussy and made her come while she screamed my name.

  I knew any number of women I could call. Women I knew from school, from circles of friends in New York. They’d be thrilled to hear from me and would probably show up at my hotel room in designer lingerie within the hour. Or I could head to the private party I’d been invited to by one of the guys from dinner. I knew the club he mentioned, so I knew what kind of party it would be. A select few would be invited to view the show on a stage draped in velvet yet styled after a dungeon. Then there’d be private rooms for anyone interested in continuing with their own shows.

  Or I could take a cold shower. I had an early flight. That had never stopped me before, but tonight I didn’t want other women. I wanted Caroline Porter. Naked. Now.

  That shower didn’t exactly get set to cold. In the steamy, hot pulse of water I took my cock back into my hand and let myself fantasize. Stroking, pulling, picking up the rhythm, I could imagine her lying across her bed, her head tossed to the side, eyes closed as she worked her pussy. Moaning, pressing against her hand, she wouldn’t want to be so turned on, but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t help thinking about me as she came, calling out my name. Just like I couldn’t help coming, hard, calling out hers.

  §

  Nine a.m. the following morning, Caroline walked into the small conference room at the Redwood Bay Chamber of Commerce. She’d dressed up, with an ivory blouse and a knee-length dusty rose skirt, so feminine, all curves. She wore ballet flats and she made it work on her, but I wanted to see her in heels again. Like those boots she’d worn last night. Or some stacked heels, all straps, just those and nothing else.

  “Good morning,” she said to everyone in the room, taking a vacant seat across the table from me. All the better to watch you in, my dear. I gave her a wolfish smile.

  “How was your night last night?” I asked her. “Sleep well?” None of the other five or six people in the room looked askance at the question. But she knew exactly what I had on my mind.

  She’d been trying to take a sip of her coffee. Now she sputtered and flapped her hands, bringing one over her lips as her cheeks flushed pink. Swallowing, taking a deep breath, she answered, “Just fine, thanks!” not meeting my eyes. Oh, she’d followed my instructions. And she’d liked doing it.

  The meeting dragged on, possibly the longest half hour I’d ever wasted in my life. Except for the view. I never would have devoted my time to their ridiculous list of demands—just the kind of thing perfect for delegating—but it all became worth it when Caroline rose to speak.

  She had some slides and she stood at the front of the table, clearly hating every minute of it. She didn’t like the spotlight. I’d picked up on that last night at the bar. And now she squirmed with discomfort over having to be the spokesperson for the protest, laboring her way through densely worded slides and text elaborating on the phylum and species of various coastal lichens.

  “Excuse me.” I cleared my throat and drew her attention. She hadn’t looked up once during her entire presentation, her eyes glued to the paper she clutched in her hands. I shouldn’t play with her. But I had to.

  “Yes?” she asked, reluctant, distrustful.

  “Could you repeat the name of that lichen species you just mentioned? Bryoria…?”

  She glared at me, clearly wanting to tell me the name of the species was Fuck You, Fuck Off. But she didn’t, she said the seven-syllable name again, with effort.

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you taking notes?” she asked, looking down at the completely empty table space in front of me.

  “It’s all up here.” I tapped my head. She looked like she wanted to kill me. And, yes, I was just fucking with her. It was also true that I had a nearly photographic memory. Tell me or show me something once and it went in the vault. Like it or not, I’d now k
now the name of that lichen species for the rest of my life.

  After she spoke, other people spoke, and then, finally, they wrapped it up. Everyone looked at me expectantly. I hadn’t even been listening, just gazing at Caroline as she fiddled with her pen, bit her lip and tried very hard to not look up and over at me. I didn’t remember when I’d last enjoyed disconcerting someone so much.

  “Excellent points,” I agreed, standing up. “I’m going to need to discuss them further with Caroline.”

  That got her to look up. “What?”

  “Those were some pretty dense slides,” I remarked, shaking my head. “I’m going to need you to go over them with me again.”

  “We’ve also made you a copy for your review. And some additional information.” A woman to my left spoke in a near-whisper and handed me a stack of about 700 sheets of paper. And they called themselves an environmental group.

  “Don’t you have a response now?” Caroline asked, incredulous.

  “Rome wasn’t built in a day,” I informed her.

  “Yeah, but we’re not asking you to build here. We’re asking you to NOT build here.” She spoke to me slowly, as if I were having trouble understanding, fire flashing in her eyes. I smiled.

  “There are many finer points I’d like to discuss in greater detail with you.”

  “Talk to him,” a guy sitting next to her hissed under his breath, clearly frustrated with her resistance.

  “Fine. Do you want to just stay here and…I can go over the slides again?” She said it as if suggesting dental surgery.

  “Everyone else can go.” I dismissed the rest of the group. They weren’t required.

  She fidgeted while they filed out, adjusting her skirt, straightening her papers, not looking at me. I slowly walked around the table, coming to join her by her side.

  “You’re going to have to look at me when we go out to dinner,” I teased.

  She rolled her eyes. “Who said anything about going out to dinner?”