“No, blockhead, we called to give you advice. Mom told us you’d managed to break away from building your empire long enough to catch some poor misguided woman’s attention. It’s been so damn long since you’ve romanced anything except your right hand, we figured you might have some questions, or need some pointers on how to go about convincing this Sophie girl to take a chance on you.”
Fuckers, he thought, well aware he was battling a grin. “Thanks, but I’m good.”
“Yeah, she’ll be the judge of that,” Michael joked. “Sure you still know what goes where and why?”
“I know you can kiss my ass,” he responded in a perfectly pleasant voice.
Michael and Trevor responded loudly with rude kissing noises, which promptly provoked a high-pitched wail from somewhere nearby.
“Damn it. You have to keep your big bullhorn of a voice down when the baby’s sleeping, idiot.”
“Me? That one’s on you, Mommie Dearest.”
“Fuck you, Uncle Mikey.” Trevor’s insult grew faint and Logan pictured him holding Max and doing the patented walk-bounce around the kitchen.
“That’s no way for Mommy to talk.”
“Sounds like you’re having a little babysitting crisis over there. I’ll say bye. Give Max a hug for me.”
“Not so fast,” Trevor’s voice came back on the line at full volume, which told Logan he’d picked up the phone. “This girl…Sophie…Mom got the impression you’re into her. Is that true?”
Jesus, his Mom had some kind sixth sense. All he’d said was he’d taken her climbing. “She’s fun. We’re having fun, but we’re not planning—”
“I didn’t ask what you’re planning. I asked if you’re into her.”
He intended to make a joke, but what came out instead was, “Yeah. I am.”
“Okay, then do yourself a favor and stop spending eighty hours a week on Defy Gravity. Put some time into this relationship, so she knows she rates with you. Otherwise, it might not be easy for her to see that you care about much outside of your company.”
The advice, sharply delivered, carried an uncomfortable undertone truth. “Is that what you guys think? You don’t rate with me?”
“We know we rate with you, and we know you’re working hard, which is why Mom doesn’t take offense when she calls you more than once, leaves messages, and doesn’t get a call back. I don’t take offense that you’re only a two-hour flight from L.A. and you haven’t come in to meet your nephew. Michael’s not offended by the fact you’ve met Chloe exactly once—at their wedding. We know how you really feel, so we don’t take it personally when your actions suggest you’ve put work ahead of your friends and family. But Sophie probably doesn’t know you as well as we do. She might not see past your behavior to your actual feelings.”
A brick of shame slammed into his chest. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not trying to make you sorry. I’m trying to make you see what your priorities look like to someone who doesn’t know better.”
“I see your point, and I appreciate the tough love. I guess I have some thinking to do.” He looked at his watch and winced. “Later. This minute though, I’ve got to go.”
“Don’t tell me. Let me guess. You’ve got a conference call,” Trevor said before the line went dead.
Twenty minutes later, with his board call showing no signs of winding down, he opened his door to let Sophie in. She looked positively edible in her body-hugging dress and shiny black heels. Hoping to wrap up the call, he said, “Gentlemen, we’ve discussed the agreement. If there are no questions, can we put it to a vote?”
The chairman of the board droned on about increases in the acquisition costs and requested they walk through the ROI one more time. Logan stifled the urge to say, “Walk through it all you want. Call me when you’re ready to pull the freaking trigger on this deal.” Instead he mouthed, “Ten minutes?” to Sophie and gave her his best I’m sorry smile.
She waved off his apology, reached into her purse and pulled out an e-reader and a bottle of Cab.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and because he knew she wasn’t prone to accept compliments gracefully, he underscored it with a kiss while Peter commenced an explanation of the revised financial model. When he made a move to untie the bow at her waist, she shooed his hands away and pushed him toward the desk. He sat, barely listening to the detailed breakdown of the financials for the deal, which he knew by heart. His attention lingered on Sophie as she moved about the room, bending low to get the corkscrew from the minibar, rising up on her tiptoes as she pulled the cork from the bottle. She poured two glasses of wine, handed him one, and then settled on the bed with her wine and her Kindle. Within a few minutes, she was engrossed in her story. His mind wandered from his call while he appreciated the gleam of the lamplight in her hair and the shadows slanting down the front of her dress. When she shifted position, his attention zoomed to the smooth expanse of thigh revealed by the split in her skirt and an intriguing flash of purple he caught just before she recrossed her legs.
The conversation on the other end of the phone stopped, and he realized they were waiting for him to speak. “Um, thanks Peter, for the rundown on the financial picture. Are there any other questions, or can we—”
“I have a question,” the chairman of the compensation committee chimed in. “I’d like a better understanding of the change-in-control provisions in key executive contracts for the target.”
Oh, God, he was going to be on this call all night. Didn’t these men read any of the information sent to them in advance of this meeting? The senior partner from the outside counsel they’d retained to work the acquisition fielded the question, thus ensuring another hefty billing cycle for her firm. Over on the bed, Sophie looked up at him. Something in her expression had his dick surging behind the zipper of his black dress pants in less time than it took the outside counsel to say, “golden handcuffs.” What the hell was she reading?
Sophie put her Kindle in the nightstand drawer, got up, and walked over until she stood in front of him. A condom landed on the desk seconds before she pulled the tie at her waist and unwrapped her dress to reveal her traffic-stopping body in skimpy purple silk. His mouth went dry and his brain blanked. “Holy shit.”
“Sorry, Logan, did you say something?” the outside counsel asked.
“No. Nothing. Keep going.”
Sophie shrugged out of her dress and knelt in front of him. She reached behind her and unfastened the sleek purple bra. Let it slide down her arms, and then straightened and fluttered her fingertips over her stiff nipples.
His eyes drifted shut, but flew open when those nimble fingers went to work on his belt buckle. He swallowed. When she unzipped his pants, reached in, and fondled him, his hand covered hers, and he didn’t quite succeed in stifling his groan.
“I know,” outside counsel commiserated. “Negotiations were delicate. Some situations require a light touch. Don’t you agree, Logan?”
Boy, did he. Sophie’s light touch was driving him out of his mind. “Absolutely.” The word faded on him when she freed his cock from his boxer briefs, leaned in, and dragged one nipple over his tip. “I’m…in complete agreement.” Jesus.
Her lips followed, and her hand burrowed into his pants to hold his twitching dick still so she could do as she pleased with him. He nearly wept.
“Anyway,” the attorney went on, “we just kept massaging the deal until everyone felt good about it.”
“Do you feel good about it, Logan?” one of the board members asked.
Sophie sucked him in deep. “Oh, God, yes. So good.”
“Excellent. I have to say, you sound very passionate about the whole thing.”
“Some mergers are all win,” he muttered as Sophie swirled her tongue over his throbbing head one last time and then stood and shimmied out of her tiny purple panties.
The board gave a general murmur of agreement and then the outside counsel moved on to the next clause of the contract. Sophie rolle
d the condom down his shaft. He bit his lip to keep from groaning. Then she straddled him. Slim fingers circled the base of his cock, and she slowly lowered herself onto his lap.
“We approached this next phase of the proceedings very meticulously,” outside counsel stated. “We didn’t rush things. We took our time and did them right.”
“Yes,” Logan blurted. “Hell, yes.” He clamped his hands under her ass and helped her glide up and down his shaft. A little bit faster. A little bit deeper.
“But we didn’t hesitate to play hardball when we had to, did we, Logan.”
Heat flared everywhere she touched him. “N-no. Sometimes you’ve gotta play hardball.”
Her inner muscles clenched and released around him. The heat centered in his balls and burned up his shaft, coaxed along by the pull of her body.
“Right. So if you look down here at clause ten, you’ll see an example of where we hammered away, and hammered away, until they begged for mercy and gave us what we wanted.”
Sophie made the whimpering noise he knew so well. Anxious to bring her home, he leaned in and scraped his teeth over one pink-tipped breast. She cried out and stiffened.
“Is everything okay over there?” one of the board members asked.
“TV,” Logan gasped. “The room next door has their TV on too loud.” Praying they bought the explanation, he closed his eyes and locked his jaw as Sophie milked the orgasm out of him. He wrapped his hands around her waist and held her to him, so he didn’t miss one single quivering aftershock.
Outside counsel concluded her comments about the change in control agreements, and said, “I think we dealt with all the issues vigorously and thoroughly. I’m sure all the parties will be extremely satisfied. You’re satisfied, aren’t you, Logan?”
“I am,” he managed, and smiled into Sophie’s slumberous eyes. “Extremely satisfied.”
She smiled back, and then leaned in and bestowed a butterfly kiss on his parted lips.
“Thank you,” he murmured as she untwined her legs from around his and carefully got to her feet, leaving him happily annihilated.
“Our pleasure,” outside counsel replied.
Sophie shot him a questioning look and pantomimed hanging up a phone.
“What about the integration plans,” another board member asked.
Logan closed his eyes and shook his head. “What about them?”
While the discussion moved on to the intricacies of aligning the target’s operations with theirs, he watched Sophie stroll lazily to the bed and snuggle under the covers. Every cell in his body longed to climb into bed and snuggle up with her. There was something seriously fucked up about his work-life balance when the only time he could find to have sex with the woman of his dreams was during a conference call.
“Logan, what are your thoughts about production synergies?”
The question pulled his attention reluctantly back to the call. He tucked himself back into his pants, swiveled his chair until he faced his laptop and opened a file. “Well, Steve, if you look at the spreadsheet we sent over earlier today…”
Twenty minutes later he closed Excel and pushed back from the desk. “Any other questions?”
“No,” the chairman responded. “I think we’re ready to vote. Can I get a motion to approve the acquisition we’ve discussed, under the terms and conditions of the proposed agreements?”
Logan sighed his relief as someone made the motion, another board member seconded, and the board unanimously approved the deal. A surge of triumph swept through him, and he turned in his chair. From the corner of his eye he caught sight of Sophie, snuggled into his bed, one leg drawn up, face buried in the pillow. She’d kicked the covers off somewhere along the line, and now presented him with an uninterrupted view of her graceful back and lush, round backside.
He wanted her. He needed her. Hell, he was falling in love with her. And if he didn’t make some changes, she was going to slip right through his fingers.
“Congratulations, Logan,” the chairman of the board said. “Is there anything else we can do for you tonight?”
“Yeah,” he heard himself reply, as he stared at Sophie. “I need to redefine my role at Defy Gravity.”
…
Sophie woke to the bone-dissolving sensation of a tongue sliding down her spine. Her eyes popped open when the nimble trespasser reached the end of the line and showed no signs of stopping. With a squeak, she pushed herself up on her arms and flipped over.
Logan looked up at her, one eyebrow cocked and the groove she adored so much flirting by his mouth. “How about a good-morning kiss?”
“Let me brush my teeth fir—oh!” Ready or not, he lowered his head and kissed her good morning—a very good morning—in a place she’d never dream of putting toothpaste. “Never…mind,” she managed, and let her head drop down on the pillow. When he kissed her again, she arched off the mattress. Her head lolled to the side…and she caught sight of the clock on the nightstand.
“Ohmigod! That can’t be the time.” She sat up, which brought an abrupt end to the good-morning kisses and a not-so-subtle pang of regret from the parts Logan had been lavishing with attention.
He frowned and made a move to recapture her hips. “We’ve got hours. The wedding isn’t until this afternoon.” Then he aimed another illicit smile her way. “Besides, I only need another five minutes to finish wishing you a good morning.”
“I don’t have five minutes.” She climbed off the bed and hurried over to the desk where he’d placed her underwear on top of his folded laptop. “I’m supposed to be downstairs in three minutes,” she explained, while shimmying into her panties, “to meet the girls for breakfast and then head to the bridal suite to start getting ready. I still have to go back to my room, shower…stuff.”
“Jesus, are you serious?” He got up and followed her. “How long can it possibly take to put on a dress?”
“It’s not just putting on a dress. There’s hair and makeup. And then we have to get Kady ready. Plus pictures. Dang it, I can’t believe I’m late.” She pulled her bra on, and then reached behind her to deal with the clasp, only to find he’d beaten her to the chore.
“Thanks.” She turned and scanned the room for her dress.
“I hung it in the closet. Hold on. I’ll get it and walk you back to your room.” She tried to stop herself from fidgeting where she stood as she watched him stride to the closet wearing nothing but a pair of white boxer briefs that made her want to sink her teeth into his butt. Down girl.
He pulled on a pair of jeans and shrugged into a white button-down shirt, and then came back with her dress over his arm. Thanks to his shirt being unbuttoned, he gave her a glimpse of a whole new selection of highly biteable places. Later. You can lick him up one side and down the other after the wedding. Maybe find a quiet, secluded spot at the reception.
Something of her thoughts might have showed on her face, because when she turned to slip her arms into the dress he held open for her, he kissed her neck and murmured, “You’ve certainly changed from the girl I met when I first got here.”
“H-how so?” Because I’ve turned into a nymphomaniac where you’re concerned?
“At first, you were looking for any excuse to avoid the planned activities—especially the wedding. Now, here you are, raring to go.”
His observation made her pause in the process of tying her dress. “I guess you’re right.” No guessing involved. She was looking forward to it—all of it: primping with the girls, standing at the front of the church watching Colt and Kady pledge their love to each other. She was really looking forward to the reception, and the possibility of grabbing a private, naughty moment with him. Frankly, her earlier trepidation about everything seemed stupid and self-centered.
He finished buttoning his shirt and kissed her again, a quick, knee-weakening possession of her mouth, and then led her out the door. “I’m glad. Even if it means you’re blowing me off to spend hours with a bunch of girls rather than staying put and
letting me wish you good morning properly.”
“Can I get a rain check on the proper good morning?” She looked up at him from beneath her lashes as they walked down the hall hand-in-hand, and silently held her breath. He’d made the comment on the call yesterday about bringing her to the closing dinner, but since then he hadn’t said much about what came next for them. And she hadn’t brought it up, in part because there hadn’t really been a good time to talk, and in part because his answer felt too big…too important. She’d wanted a little more time to get her heart prepared for reality.
His expression sobered. They stopped in front of her room and she turned away to unlock and push the door open. When she turned back, he cupped her face in his big hands and stared into her eyes. “You can get as many rain checks as you want. And redeem them at your convenience.”
So saying, he leaned in and kissed her again. Slow this time. Devastatingly slow, as if trying to impart some important message through the slide of his tongue over hers. Her heart slammed into her ribs like a caged bird. What did he mean, at her convenience? What if she told him every day for the rest of her life would be convenient? Did he mean he would make that happen?
Only one way to find out. When he drew back, she wrapped her hands around his wrists and held on. She floated in the crystal-clear depths of his eyes and said, “My place, next Tuesday?”
He breathed in her nervous exhale, and rubbed his lips against hers, as if to soothe away the tension he’d heard in her question.
“That’s something we need to discuss. Soon. As soon as we’ve done our wedding party duties. I proposed some changes last night during my call, and my board agreed, and what I hope it means is—” He broke off and waited as someone passed by, and Sophie realized whoever it was had just gotten an eyeful of them kissing. “I’m sorry,” he continued. “This isn’t the time or the place. I know you have to go—”
Her well of bravery ran dry. If he intended to tell her he wanted them to have a future, she could wait until after the wedding to hear his plan. If he intended to tell her he was…what? Moving the company headquarters to Timbuktu, but they could be Skype buddies for the rest of their lives, she’d just as soon not know. She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him with everything she had, and hoped it was enough to remind him there were certain interactions a person simply couldn’t get from Skype, no matter how good the screen resolution.
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