Sara flicked a switch, turning her favored toy on to the pounding of her pulse. The phone chimed at the same time the wand started.
With a swipe of her other thumb, his message loaded, and it took all her willpower not to lick the screen in an attempt to catch the drop of pre-cum glistening on the tip of his fully erect cock. Her womb clenched in immediate response and her orgasm ripped through her with a shocking speed, even for her toys.
As soon as her breath returned to normal, another text came through.
Jacob: That’s what you do to me. Actually that’s not even half of what you do to me. I’m on my way to the airport now hoping to catch a redeye flight. If you’ll have me, I’ll come straight there. 4am?
If she’d have him.
Sara’s giggle was instantaneous.
She’d take Jacob no matter what time he came in and regardless of the shape he was in when he arrived.
Sara: Call me when you’re close. I’ll unlock the door for you.
Sara fell asleep with a smile on her face and her phone by her side.
30
Had it really been a week since he’d shown up on Sara’s doorstep? Jacob looked out the windows of his downtown office barely taking in the gorgeous skyline outside. He shook his head in amazement at all that had changed. He hadn’t believed Mama Bea when she’d said it before, but he believed it now. Sara made him lighter, as if a crushing weight had been lifted from him.
Even with the stress that firing Vanessa had caused, and the longer hours spent reviewing all of their finances, he couldn’t seem to stop smiling. He’d spoken to his father a few times, without arguing, and he’d called a last-minute board meeting and told Mrs. Everett that morning in no uncertain terms that the position of CEO would be the old man’s as long as Brian Smithsfield wanted it. As it turned out, she hadn’t followed through with her threat at the one he’d missed, and it was good to know where things stood. She didn’t have as much power as she’d thought she had. She’d displeased, to say the least, and had aired her many grievances to him in private afterwards, but not even that had caused a break in Jacob’s happiness.
The pictures Sara had sent had little to do with it. Though—Jesucristo—his blood still raced every time he thought of them. And when he snuck time in his work day to look at them? His pants tightened significantly in the crotch at just the memory.
He couldn’t explain why they’d gotten to him as much as they had. She was far from the first woman to send him such pictures, but she was… different. She didn’t do things of that nature. And she certainly hadn’t just been looking to get into his pants—or his wallet, despite what Elise claimed. The fact that Sara had trusted him enough to send those pictures had opened his eyes to a whole hell of a lot. He might not deserve her—hell, he didn’t deserve her—yet none of that mattered one bit to her.
You don’t throw something like that away.
Not unless you’re stupid.
And he was tired of being stupid.
“Thinking about Sara again, huh?” Marc knocked on the open office door and came in without an invite.
The smug bastard. “Cállate cabrón.”
“You wish. Save your dirty talk for her.”
“With pleasure.” Jacob had one scenario in particular that he wanted to run by her for their date that night.
“Give it a rest already, you horn dog. I’m here about business.”
“Hey, you were the one who asked if I was thinking about her.”
“Yes, and clearly you were. And I’d appreciate it if you stopped rubbing your depressingly single friend’s face in it.”
Never. “You’re only single because you choose to be.”
“Whatever. As I was saying, I came in here to talk about business.” Marc’s expression turned serious. “They found one of the men.”
That sobered Jacob up, too. “One of the robbers, I assume?”
“Yeah.”
“Any word on if the police have leads on the other two?”
“So far my contact is being pretty tightlipped. That’s all he’ll tell me for the time being.”
“Would money help the investigation at all?”
“Money always helps.”
“Then let me know how much and who to make it out to. The last thing I want is for them to hit one of our branches.” Especially Sara’s.
“Speaking of money… how long are you planning to keep the security guard at the 30th street location?”
As long as he needed to. As long as Sara worked there. “Until every last one of these fuckers are caught.”
“Okay.” Marc ran his hand through the shaggy hair he’d refused to cut short since they were boys. “But can I say something?”
“You will anyway, so go ahead.”
“It probably doesn’t sit well with your other branches, especially those within a thirty-mile radius, that they aren’t being offered the same protection. I think you need to decide whether you’re willing to commit to that amount of money, and for how long. If this is going to be a permanent fixture in BCF’s footprint, then great. If not… it might be best to pull out now.” He left off the obvious.
If the media got wind of Jacob’s relationship with Sara, and the fact he’d only provided security for her branch, it could be disastrous. “Jesucristo, Marc. Where the hell’s my head been at?”
That earned another smirk from his friend. “I’m guessing somewhere between two very long legs.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, Jacob returned the smirk. If he had anything to say about it, that was exactly where it’d be first thing that evening.
“All right, bro,” Marc said. “I’m out. I have an errand to run, and then I’ll be at Miramar early Monday morning. Let me know what you and your father decide and I’ll set it up.”
Jacob waved, then motioned at Marc to close the door as the phone on his desk rang.
He really did need to find another assistant. He was tired of answering his own phones. “BCF. Office of Jacob Ramírez.” Jacob recognized the Santa Barbara area code too late. “Elise, I swear—”
“My daughter is off nursing her wounds, Mr. Ramírez. I was hoping we could talk man-to-man.”
Why? Jacob had no desire to hear anything Mr. Sorenson had to say. Especially not after what his father and the man had conspired on, no matter how innocent either of their part in things had been. “I think you meant to call my father. Let me connect you.”
“If I’d meant to call your father, I would have dialed him directly.” The haughtiness of the man’s tone only came from the extremely privileged. And the extremely powerful. Mr. Sorenson was a man used to getting his way.
But so was Jacob. He kept his own tone curt. “What do you want?”
“A few minutes of your time. In person.”
“If this is another one of your daughter’s—”
“This has nothing to do with you and that spoiled brat my wife raised. This is a business proposition. One that could prove very lucrative for you.”
“So why not go to my father?”
“Let’s just say, I might have a way to rid you of a particular problem you’ve been having.”
The only problems Jacob had was Mrs. Everett’s expectations and realizing his heart wasn’t in his job, neither of which Sorenson had any way of knowing about, nor were they things Jacob was inclined to do anything about. He couldn’t very well quit his job to start up some sort of nonprofit effort, and he damn sure had no business trying to usurp his father’s position.
Accepting Sara back into his life didn’t change either of those two things. “I don’t have time for games, Sorenson. If you have a proposition to run by me, tell me now.”
“True gentlemen discuss things in person. I want to be able to shake the hand of the man I enter into a business deal with.”
And Jacob wanted to stay the hell away from Elise. “Give me leverage to keep your daughter out of my life for good. Then we can talk.”
“I think
you’ve learned by now that no one controls—”
“Cut the bullshit, Sorenson. We both know a man with your power could get anyone to fall in line. You have presidents on speed dial. Send me over a contract detailing the terms you’re willing to guarantee, and I’ll set up a meeting.”
Not even a day long trip would be wasted if it got Elise off Jacob’s back for good.
31
After opening her fifth account Friday afternoon, Sara plugged in her daily numbers, satisfied with the accomplishment. The last few days had been busy, making everyone almost forget about the robbery and the fact that two of the suspects were still at large.
“Harrison’s coming this way,” Bel hissed. “I don’t care how reasonable he's been. You need to be careful. He hasn’t received a brain transplant, you know. If he sees you’re happy, he might fire you out of spite.”
Sara obeyed, but didn’t hide her chuckle. Bel’s saccharin sweet smile didn't fool him. Harrison gave her desk a wide berth. To Sara’s further amusement, he stayed as far away from Bel’s desk as he could while whispering over an incoming fax. “Another suspect’s in custody.”
Halle-fucking-lujah. Two down, one to go.
“Marc said they expect this one will give up the other. He has a kid, and that gives them bargaining power. I’ll tell everyone, but, uh…” He shifted, his gaze fixed on the wall clock behind Sara’s head. “I thought you'd like to be apprised.”
As good as it was to hear the news, there was something Sara wanted more.
As expected, a text waited on her phone from Jacob with the same announcement. He’d tried calling her twenty minutes ago, but she’d been busy with a customer and had forgotten to return his call. She sent him a quick text thanking him and reminding him that this weekend, she’d be in charge.
It’d be her first visit to his house, and she was staying the entire weekend. For some reason that made her nervous as hell. Well, not for some reason; for a very important reason. Except for when he’d offered courtside seats to Sage, no other time since they’d been talking had she felt a discrepancy in their status in terms of wealth, even knowing that he owned the bank she worked for. He’d always just seemed regular.
But given his Torrey Pines address, the man’s home had to be anything but that. What would she do if he had live in staff?
Sara shivered at the thought of someone hovering over her shoulder, waiting to pick up after her or to serve her.
“Should I come back?”
Ray’s smiling face had her waving away her jitters and beckoning him to the seat in front of her desk. “Are you kidding? I always have time for you.”
“Good!” His butt hardly hit the seat before his words erupted. “Guess who’s official now?”
She returned his huge grin. “You’ve always been official.”
“In name only. Thanks to all the connections you helped me make through helping the Gallo family, I now have legitimate sponsors. And clients and events lined up that will keep me busy for the next year.” Ray paused for dramatic effect. “You wanna know the best part? I now also have enough capital to pay myself a meager salary. Guess who might be able to move out of his parents’ basement and actually start dating again?”
Sara covered her squeal behind her hand. Ray had worked hard for this and deserved a celebration.
“Guess what else?” he asked. “I have enough capital to hire an additional full-time worker, too.”
“Wahoo! That’s amazing, Ray.” Sara hid her envy. She didn’t begrudge his opportunities or her education. In fact, the opposite. She was thankful she’d went to college. But it did make it difficult to hear Ray say he was living her dream.
He glanced around and a gaze full of longing landed on Harrison.
Wow. How in the world did I miss that? Bel was right, he practically panted after their boss. “Sorry, friend. Harrison is as straight as they come.” Sara didn’t need her sister or Bel to clue her in on that fact. Her manager hadn’t met a pair of breasts he didn’t stare at. It’d taken him a full week once she’d started working there to be able to look her in the eyes.
Ray directed his longing gaze back at Sara. “It’s not him I want.”
Well, holy hell.
Sara shifted in her seat uncomfortably.
Was that why she hadn’t picked up on her friend’s sexuality? Was he actually bi like Sage?
“Stop looking at me like that, Sara. I’m not hitting on you. I want you in a different way entirely.” He held up a hand as if he anticipated her immediate rejection. “It’s not much, and I can’t offer benefits yet, but I was hoping to convince you to join my team. And before you say no, tell me you’ll at least think about it. I desperately need help soon, and you’re the right one for the job.”
Ray couldn’t have confused her more if he’d asked her to have a foursome with him, her manager, and a dog. “You want me to work for you?” His nod did funny things to her insides. Similar butterflies as what she experienced with Jacob fluttered to life in her belly. She asked, “How much is meager?”
Oh, what did that matter? Sara couldn’t consider his offer no matter what the dollar amount.
So why was she holding her breath waiting for his answer?
“Twenty-six thousand.”
Despite the hope in his voice, her butterflies died a fast death. Twenty-six thousand would barely cover her apartment, car insurance, and food. Add in the lost benefits and her student loans—there was no way.
See? She needed to be content that she had the opportunity to live one of her dreams instead of being a greedy bitch. She smiled at her friend, hoping to soften the blow. “I’m sorry, Ray. I really wish it was possible, but I don’t want you to waste your time when I already know it isn’t.”
Coward. Christopher piped up in her head and she almost told him to shut up out loud.
It took gall to call her names in this regard when he was one of the biggest reasons why she had to say no?
Maddie needed her. If Sara left BCF, she’d have to quit helping her sister, and that would leave Maddie as stranded as she’d been when Christopher had died.
As if he knew her thoughts, Ray said, “Why don’t we have a fundraiser for your sister? For the help she needs? You could be free to make a career move and your sister could be free of worry until she can get back on her feet.”
“Don’t you think I’ve offered that to her? She’s not interested. Besides, you don’t get back on your feet in her situation. This isn’t going away. Say I convince her. Then what? The money would run out eventually.”
Coward.
Fuck that. What right did Christopher have to give her lectures? Even if they were only in her own head? His stupidity was the only thing deserving of being judged here. He knew better than to go out with a storm brewing. He’d taken all the safety courses right after he’d bought his boat. He hadn’t so much as let any of the Morrow women on board without strapping them into lifejackets.
“We could do more than help out temporarily,” Ray said, refusing to give up. “Look at the Gallos for God’s sake.”
Yeah, but what did all that matter? “Ray—”
“Don’t ‘Ray’ me. You put that fundraiser together in less than three months. No. I won’t hear your excuses. Not yet, at least. One month, Sara. I’m not accepting your answer for one month.”
In a huff of frustrated ego, he stood up and walked out of the lobby.
Sara sat back in her chair with the same huff.
Her friend didn’t have any more of a right to judge her than her brother-in-law did. She had valid reasons. As her friend, he should be able to honor them. No, he should want to honor them instead of instilling in her an unreasonable flicker of hope with his optimism.
Dammit all to hell and back. Sara couldn’t consider something as absurd as that.
Yet… even as she cursed Ray, she gave a small amount of credence to Christopher’s claim. He’d been right about Jacob. What if he could be right about this too?
> 32
Shit! Jacob’s house had two wings. Two. One two-story and the other one-story, each on opposing sides of where the house curved outwards in an oval shape around the front door.
What the fuck was Sara doing showing up there in a Target sundress and flip flops with a bag of freaking KFC? Who cared if he’d told her not to worry about what clothes she brought, or that she’d been hungry? He lived in a mansion.
Sage would be so embarrassed by her if she could see Sara right now.
Dear God, why hadn’t she called Sage prior to coming? Her sister could have helped her go shopping, she could have given Sara advice.
Dammit.
Intimidated, Sara stood on the front walkway, refusing to knock on his door. Garden lights along the path where she stood lit up the front enough that she could see the plants hanging off three balconies from the upper rooms.
The man had balconies. Multiple balconies. And half of the one-story portion appeared to be a glassed-in hallway. She could see straight through to the darkness of night on the other side.
Who lived in a glass house?
Rich people. That’s who.
Sara turned to leave. Wouldn’t it be obvious how much she didn’t fit in once she entered? What if he decided he didn’t want someone as unrefined as her?
“Cariño,” Jacob whispered from the shadows.
Embarrassed, Sara hid the food behind her back. “I-I was just going back to my car for my things.”
“Leave them. I’ll come out for them later.” Jacob walked toward her on a stone path that wrapped around the side of his house. “You’re beautiful in the moonlight. Breathtakingly beautiful. If not for the delicious smell coming from whatever bag you’re holding behind you, I could stare at you for hours.”
Morrow's Horizon (The Morrow Women Series Book 1) Page 24