Desire (Venture Capitalist Book 3)

by Ainsley St Claire

  Good question. Who’s fleecing Perkins Klein’s investments? Emerson asks.

  I think we need to make this the top of the agenda on Sunday night, Sara responds.

  Agreed, I return.

  We all sign off and go about our evenings. I stare at my computer and the over three hundred e-mails that came in today that I haven’t even looked at. One by one, I slowly go through them, the work distracting me from my personal life. When I finally check the clock, it’s after 3:00 a.m.

  I shut my computer off and head to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind me as I fall into bed and dream about Hadlee.

  Hadlee

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  I’ve only lived here for six months. How did I accumulate so much crap? I wipe the sweat from my brow as a knock sounds at my front door. Who could that be?

  I stare through the peephole, then open the door to Cameron. “Hello.” I step back so he can come in. “What has you home this morning?”

  He hands me a cup of coffee. “I ended up working until after three, so I’ve been slow to get going today.”

  Grateful for the coffee, I take a big whiff and admit, “I really needed this. Thanks. I’m sorry if I woke you this morning.”

  “You didn’t. I just wanted to see you.”

  He was avoiding me, and now he wants to see me? The twinkle in his eyes and the way his T-shirt stretches across his chest make my insides all gooey, and I can’t help but flirt with him. “Well, I’m not very cute this morning with all this.” I wave to my sweat-covered, makeup-free face and what I’m sure are wet circles under my arms.

  “You’re beautiful.” Softening his tone, he continues, “You’re always beautiful.”

  I’m taken aback by his comment and my stomach flips. “Err—"

  “I owe you a huge apology for biting your head off about my dad. I understand you were only trying to help. He and I have such a difficult relationship that I don’t have a lot of patience when it comes to him.”

  Staring at my sneakers, I mutter, “I shouldn’t have inserted myself into the situation. I like you both, and I only wanted to share my expertise.”

  He steps forward and brushes a wisp of hair away from my face, then cups my cheek. “Please don’t leave,” he whispers.

  I shut my eyes and take in what he’s saying. It’s what I’ve wanted to hear from him, but only part of it. “Cameron, I can’t live here indefinitely.”

  “Yes, you can.” He bends over, and our lips meet softly for a short moment. Then his kiss becomes aggressive, his tongue pushing between my lips and tasting of his morning coffee. He takes my mouth as if it belongs to him. A groan tickles in my throat, wanting to give him everything he wants. I’m confused, both happy and unsure, but I can’t stop. My entire body throbs to feel every inch of him, my legs weak.

  He pushes me against the wall, pulling my T-shirt over my head and unclasping my bra in one swift movement. “You have the most beautiful breasts,” he murmurs, then buries himself in my heaving cleavage while playing with both nipples.

  I should tell him to stop, but I can’t. I need this.

  “I’m getting hard thinking about my handprint on your bare ass as your pussy’s helplessly spread wide open while you’re tied to the headboard.”

  My heart beats faster as I drop to my knees and start undoing his jeans.

  “Fuck me, you’re enchanting.” He tangles his fingers in my hair as I bring the tip of his cock to my lips. I pull his body closer to me and take him completely into my mouth. His whole body shudders, and I groan as I suck deeper until I feel his cock at the back of my throat. I back away, then slide him into me once more.

  I set the rhythm, backing away to the tip and then descending upon him, taking him almost to the point of gagging. This may be a mistake, but I want it, and I need him. No one has ever made me feel like he does.

  He groans and starts to join my rhythm, one hand on the back of my head, the other clenching the side of the counter. His fingers pull and push on my scalp, encouraging me as he moans his appreciation.

  His hips tremble slightly as I cup his balls. They’re tight, swollen, and I massage them tenderly as I pump him in and out of my mouth.

  This is everything.

  “I’m going to come,” he growls.

  And he does. I keep my mouth on him as he spasms, the salty sweet liquid bursting into my mouth. I swallow all of it hungrily.

  It’s my turn now as he moves me from inside the door into the bedroom of the suite. He lays me on my back and gets comfortable between my legs. I watch him in the mirrored closet doors. God, he’s beautiful. He rubs his finger up my slit, and I moan.

  He inserts his fingers into my slick channel, massaging that sweet spot deep inside. He licks me from bottom to top and continues to work my clit. “My God, you’re an extraordinary creature,” he whispers.

  I lick my lips nervously and close my eyes. My breasts are displayed before him like a buffet. My nipples are pebbled and hard, and my mouth waters at the thought of another taste of his cock.

  I gasp as he thoroughly licks my pussy. He's prolonging it, not to torture me but to make my orgasm more intense. I can’t take it anymore, and I push into his face. He goes deep inside me, eating me harder and faster, sucking my clit and openmouthed kissing my tight pussy, the pussy that was made for him. The dam breaks as I moan my pleasure and involuntarily scream his name.

  I can’t seem to catch my breath, and I’m completely satisfied.

  He stares deep into my eyes. “Ready for some fun?”

  I nod as he removes a foil package from his pocket and sheathes his hard and anxious cock. Licking my lips seems to make him grow even harder. He turns me over and positions my ass high in the air. In the mirror, it’s erotic to watch him rub his finger along my slit, his hands digging into my hips, fingertips bruising. That’s the only warning he gives before slamming into me so hard that I let out a shriek of pain and surprise. He withdraws and then pushes in again, an animal concerned only with a primal mating drive. He owns me in the purest sense as he slams into me again and again, a blunt force trauma that my body accepts in pure sexual shock. The teasing from before and the pain right now all blend together in a whirlwind of sensation.

  He slams his hand hard on my ass and my pussy clamps, the pain and pleasure intermingling. “Harder,” I whisper, though I’m not sure who I’m saying it for—him or me. I’m not sure it matters; we’re the same being when he’s inside me, moving toward one goal.

  He pulls back, gathering my hair in his hand. There’s a brief moment of respite, a cold reminder of the space he’s claimed. Then he’s fully inside me, pulling me by the hair so his cock is as deep as it can possibly be. His invasion is thorough, his cock pulsing in cruel pleasure.

  My body convulses, on the verge of another orgasm, on the edge of passing out, torn between pleasure and pain. I release what I believe is a pent-up sound of grief, though I’m not entirely sure. I’m in a state of pure bliss as I shatter, my orgasm coming suddenly, making my insides bear down, my hips buck against him. He shouts behind me, his cock pulsing fresh heat into my sex. He draws out his orgasm and mine, pushing his still-firm cock into my slick channel with lazy thrusts, every slide a new wave of sparks behind my eyes.

  “I’m imagining your sexy body bound in restraints, writhing in desperation, screaming out my name for a release you’ve yet to comprehend.”

  A twinge of lust and excitement overtakes me. I like that idea, and it makes me want him more.

  “You’re so goddam beautiful when you come,” he whispers in an awestruck tone.

  I’m embarrassed by his admission, not sure that I ever want to see that look on my face. “I’m going to need to get going to meet the movers over at my storage unit.”

  He seems surprised, and his eyes cloud over. “You’re still moving out?”

  “Cameron, I can’t live here forever. My place is livable, and it’s time I move home.”

  “But I thought y
ou wanted to stay.”

  Sitting up, I say softly, “Cameron, I want more from you than casual sex.”

  He appears anguished and hurt. “I’m not made for relationships. This is all I’m able to give. Can’t this be enough?”

  That only further confirms that I’m making the right decision. If I stay, all it’s going to be is good sex. While that’s nice in the short term, when I realize I’m too old to have kids and have wasted too many years on him, I’ll regret this and hate him. If I get out now, maybe I can salvage a friendship, or we can at least be civil when we see each other at our common friends’ events.

  Part of me wants so much to stay, but the smart part of me is telling me to rip the Band-Aid off now; the longer it stays on, the harder it’ll be to remove.

  “I’m sorry, but no. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. I want it all, and I’d love it with you, but only if you want it, too.”

  I stand and begin to dress as he removes the used condom and walks to the bathroom. I hear the toilet flush and the water run in the sink. He doesn’t say anything, and I think that’s more hurtful than if he yelled and told me why he wants me to stay.

  When he returns to the bedroom with his clothes in hand and begins to dress, I walk to the bathroom to clean up. I hear my front door open and shut and realize he’s gone.

  I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. My mascara’s smeared under my tear-filled eyes.

  I want more than great sex, and damn it, I deserve more.

  Cameron

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  I can’t help but be angry that she’s making these demands on me. Why can’t we ease into this? She can live downstairs, and we could spend most nights together and enjoy lots of naughty sex. Fuck, why is this so hard!

  I hear her leave to meet her moving van, the pit in my stomach that started when I was an ass at the hospital having grown tremendously. I’m disappointed that she won’t be here when I get back.

  I think of this morning as I lie upon the soft feather mattress, cocooning myself in the silk sheets as I imagine Hadlee standing at the bottom of the bed. I gaze upon her perfect naked form, her skin glistening with a sensual sweat. My eye’s drawn to the auburn river that gently caresses its way along her neck, reaching just below her shoulder blades. If the gods are real, then this woman’s their masterpiece. I love the way her blue eyes light up when she sees me. Her smile that makes my heart beat seconds faster. She thinks I’m a better man than I know I am, and that both excites and depresses me.

  With a sigh, I get up and dressed before climbing on my bike and starting it up. The roar of the engine helps me to forget about Hadlee, at least for a few minutes.

  When I arrive at the office, there’s a noticeable buzz for a Saturday. I bump into Greer as I walk into the kitchen. “That was quite the bombshell last night,” I mutter.

  “I know! I have more feelers out and will be interested to hear what we learn today. I think Charles is hoping for a meeting with the partners tonight.”

  “I can make that work.”

  When I return to my office, I take a seat and stare at the software that was sent over to us for a new app designed for expense tracking. It’s nothing new, and I think back to the sex Hadlee and I had earlier. My cock stirs in my pants. I have to come up with a way to get her to change her mind.

  My text alert pings.

  Greer: Charles 8 p.m.

  At least that’ll distract me from the fact that my house will be silent and dark tonight when I get home, and she’ll be gone.

  Me: I’ll be there.

  Before I realize it, Dillon and Emerson are at my door. “Do you want a ride to Charles’s?”

  Checking the time on my cell phone, I see it’s already after seven. How did that happen? “Oh, yeah. That’d be great. Do you mind?”

  “Not at all,” Emerson assures me.

  Sara, Greer, and Mason join us as we pile into Dillon’s SUV and start working our way to Hillsboro. Most of the stop-and-go traffic has dissipated, but it’s still thick. During the lull, I keep thinking about Hadlee.

  “Don’t you agree, Cameron?” Sara asks, interrupting my daydream.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Can you believe Hadlee can move back into her place already?”

  “It seems rather quick. She could’ve stayed longer. I wasn’t in any hurry for her to leave.” Emerson and Dillon exchange a look. “Someone needs to check on her. She mentioned that she had water and electricity, but that doesn’t mean it’s ready for moving in.”

  “I think someone has a crush on Hadlee,” Greer singsongs.

  I bristle at the notion. “I’ll admit to caring that she’s safe, but I didn’t kick her out. She could live in my apartment for years, and I’d be fine with that.” I add in a murmur, “More than fine.”

  Emerson reaches back and pats my leg. “Cam, we love you, and we know Hadlee’s crazy about you. We support you both.”

  I wish they understand that supporting us means they need to be as worried as I am about her living situation. This is a big deal. Her place isn’t ready to be moved into, I just know it.

  As we pull into the Spanish-style home and the pack of dogs comes rushing to greet us, I’m glad to no longer be the topic of conversation. CeCe pulls up right behind us with Trey in the car. Sara immediately goes over to him, and they have a long and lingering kiss.

  Why is it we all have to couple up? First, it was Dillon and Emerson, and then it was Trey and Sara. Plus Mason’s seeing Annabel. I miss when it was only us without the complications of significant others.

  As we gather in Charles’s office, Jim, the private investigator, joins us. “Dillon, you mentioned you found something today?”

  “Yes. It seems our mole’s not discriminatory. I think they’ve been selling our research to a few others in The Valley.”

  “What makes you think that?” Charles asks.

  Dillon passes a packet of paper around to each of us. “Check out these spreadsheets I’ve compiled. We always track who wins, and while the majority of them have gone to Perkins Klein, we’ve also found that Benchmark, Argent Capital, and Carson Mills each have won a few that are surprising. Plus they’re picking up the pieces Perkins Klein is selling off, none of which are being offered to us.”

  “How can we be sure this is the mole and not investments made by our competitors?” Greer asks.

  “Because these are the numbers we put into our research that was fed to the mole.”

  Mason glances up from his spreadsheets. “Who could the leak be?”

  My blood boils. “This affects our bottom line, and it pisses me off. Who the fuck did we upset?”

  Jim answers glibly, “Anyone you didn’t fund, or someone who can’t afford that Fat Boy with all the upgrades you ride.”

  I roll my eyes. As if my Harley was an actual reason that someone would go this hard at us.

  Emerson, always the peacekeeper, interjects, “We’ve pissed someone off. But we’re seeing less loss, aren’t we?”

  Mason and Charles both agree.

  “So what should we do next?” Greer asks. “I’d love to do a hardcore public relations piece on us in the New York Times. I think I have someone who would write it for us.”

  Mason and I stare at one another. “That would work,” I tell her.

  “I think it’s time I start shopping my new start-up and see how the funding shakes out,” Charles suggest. He outlines his prospective company to us, and we listen with rapt attention. Greer’s typing notes on her computer, and we devise our plan on how we’ll take on this new challenge we’re facing.

  It’s after eleven when Emerson and Dillon drop me off at my dark condo. I consider calling Hadlee, but I don’t. Instead, I write a text message to her, asking how the day went, but never send it. In my heart of hearts, I know it would only be a booty call.

  I lie in bed, and I think of her. Hadlee could grace any billboard or magazine cover, but she was better than those t
wo-dimensional photoshopped models. Somehow her imperfections make her perfect. There’s a shyness to her, a hesitation in her body movements and a softness in her voice.

  I picture her in jeans and a T-shirt, feet up on the couch and painting her nails. She’s right there, only feet away, but in her understated glamour, she might as well be on the television or a girl in a music video.

  She left. She moved to her own place. I may never see her again, but that’s all right. She didn't need a guy with a lot of emotional baggage like me anyway.

  I need to move on and focus on my job. Sleep usually avoids me, but tonight I’m too tired to even walk the fifty steps to my bedroom. I pull a throw from the back of the leather couch and fall into a restless sleep. dreaming of Hadlee.

  She lives with me in my dreams.

  Hadlee

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The restaurant spreads out in front of me, dark walnut tables surrounded by maroon leather booths. The large room’s arranged in such a way that almost every person’s visible from here but no one directly faces us.

  I follow the hostess in her black miniskirt as she wobbles on her high heels to a table in the middle of the room. I’m meeting Ken, one of the other doctors working on Lilly’s case.

  I study the menu. I really want a bacon cheeseburger and fries—they’re known for the best in the city—but my clothes are getting a bit snug. As I look over the various salad options, nothing seems appealing to me. Because of the construction, I don’t have any kitchen appliances, so all I’ve done is eat out. I need to be strong and eat some veggies. I learned the contractor’s not happy that I’m currently living in my place. He thinks the inspectors won’t be okay with it, but they’ll never know. I only sleep there, so he’ll get over it.

  I look up as Ken arrives. “Hadlee,” he purrs as he opens his arms for a hug that seems to last a few seconds too long.