She would miss him—and especially this.
He climbed into bed next to her. He sat with his back against the headboard and said, “Come here.”
For two seconds, she thought about protesting. She needed to protect her heart. Suspecting it was already too late, she snuggled into his lean strength.
“Molly, lights off.”
The full moon provided enough illumination for her to make out his shape and to create atmosphere.
“I want you,” he said.
Her insides melted, taking her resolve along with it. “Yes.”
“Put your hands above your head.”
After she’d done so, he stripped off her T-shirt.
He was always the Dom, and that was something that was always very right between them. Other issues didn’t exist here, only each of them and the moment.
She did what he requested, and he kissed his way down her body, from her mouth, to the column of her neck, her breasts, her abdomen, then…there…
Twisting her hands together, she lifted her pelvis, silently asking for more.
He licked her pussy.
She desperately wanted to touch him, dig her hands into his hair.
“Remain in position,” he told her.
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, letting her eyes close.
He parted her labia then pulled back the hood of her clitoris. Then he moved his tongue rapidly over the swollen flesh.
With a scream, she ground her hips into his face.
He was merciless, sliding a finger into her, then a second, licking as he fucked her, searching for and finding her G-spot.
“Come for me.”
She tossed her head as he wrung it from her. But before she could relax, he demanded a second and a third, leaving her drenched with perspiration, panting from the exertion. “I… Grant! Sir!”
“Remain where you are,” he told her as he slowly withdrew his fingers.
There was barely enough ambient light for her to make out what he was doing. He went to the closet for a moment, and when he returned, he was gloriously naked, his cock jutting out powerfully.
Her mouth dried.
Everything about this man turned her on.
He sat next to her on the edge of the bed. “Nipple clamps,” he informed her.
She’d followed his orders and kept her hands above her head and she watched his every move. His eyes were dark, expression unreadable. He frightened her, just a little, in the best possible way.
He didn’t ask permission to put the clovers on her, instead, he sucked each nipple until it was hard and ready then he put the clamps in place.
She gasped at the pressure. “These are worse than the others.”
“You can do it.”
Aria wasn’t as convinced as he was.
“Think about something else,” he encouraged her. “Like the way I’m going to fuck you. Ride you. Make you call out my name.”
Maybe for the last time. The unspoken words didn’t dampen the sizzling heat, and it amped up her urgency.
He reached for a condom and rolled it on. “Turn over. I want you on all fours.”
Because of the clamps, she moved gingerly. Then he was there, helping her, touching her, arousing her.
Her breasts swayed, weighed down by the metal. Every part of her body prickled with awareness.
He teased her with his fingers, and it only took him seconds to make her forget everything except the hunger for his possession. “Do me,” she encouraged.
As usual, confounding her, Grant insisted on setting the pace.
By slow measures, he entered her. On the first stroke, he inserted just his cockhead, then, on the next, he went a bit deeper.
She was desperate for him to take her completely. Silently, she pressed back her hips, forcing him deeper.
He slapped her left hip and she yelped.
“We can start over if you’d rather.”
“No!”
“Then…?”
She dragged in a breath. “Whatever you please, Sir.”
“Oh, fuck,” he said, words sounding as if he’d dragged them through rusty nails. “You, Aria. You.”
He grabbed both her hip bones and yanked her back as he slammed into her.
“Yes!” Finally.
He pounded her pussy, and she cried out.
This was what she needed…the passion to match her seared internal feelings.
Her breasts swayed, making the clovers tighter, adding a layer of exquisite pain. Then he reached beneath her to grab the chain. He fisted it, yanked on it.
Agony shot through her, and she screamed, arching her back.
He went in deeper and an orgasm slashed through her.
She’d never felt anything as intense, as hungry.
Though she hadn’t told him what she needed, he’d known, and he’d given it, responding to her urgency with his own.
She felt his cock harden further. Unbelievably, the sensation made another climax unfurl in her. It gnawed at her, and she whimpered.
“Wait this time.”
She turned her head to the side and clenched her eyes shut, fighting to hold on.
Grant continued to pull on the clamps, igniting nerve endings.
“I…” Can’t wait, she wanted to say. But the words weren’t there.
“I want to hear my name. Now,” he said.
He grabbed one of her shoulders and held her tight as he went still.
Then suddenly, he thrust into her. The friction and permission were a powerful combination. He pulsed his heat into her and she screamed his name.
She wasn’t sure how long it went on, but at some point, his weight and her exhaustion claimed her and her arms went weak. She dropped onto her elbows.
He pulled out his cock and was there for her, capturing her, rolling her over onto her back.
“Let me get those clamps off you.”
As bad as they felt, she knew that taking them off would be worse.
She should have known better.
Her considerate Dom fingered her clit, distracting her as he plucked off the clovers.
She snuggled onto her side.
“Wait a minute,” he instructed.
He went into the bathroom and returned with a washcloth. He bathed her pussy then helped her back into the T-shirt. Even more tenderness that she was going to miss.
Eventually, he climbed in behind her and pulled her tightly against him, making it clear she was going nowhere.
She could stay like this forever, and the realization that wasn’t possible made her heart beat a frantic staccato. Seeming to sense her distress, he uttered soothing sounds and pulled her close, tucking her beneath his chin, protecting her.
Aria realized she’d never had a man so in tune with her before.
His breathing, his touch, comforted her. She drifted off, and when she woke up, he was standing next to the bed, holding her coffee mug, waving his hand above it to waft the scent her direction.
“This one’s yours,” he told her.
“Heaven,” she said with a sigh. She scooted up and back, resting against the headboard.
“Julien has already tried to reach us.”
It hadn’t taken reality long to intrude.
“I told him we’d get back to him in an hour. I was afraid of waking you without coffee, though.”
“Julien partnered with you because you have a brain,” she agreed.
He sat on the edge of the bed, a serious frown between his eyebrows. “You doing okay this morning?”
She knew what he was asking. It wasn’t just about the sex, it was about the interaction yesterday. “I’m okay.” Despite her resolve to enjoy their time, she knew it would be better for her mental state if she left. Now that the project was done, except for the presentation, there was no reason to stay, especially since there was no future in it.
He brushed her hair back from her face. For a moment it appeared he was going to say something, but, obviously changing his m
ind, he stood. “Tamales and eggs?”
She hesitated, giving him space to say something. Hoping. Praying. But he didn’t. It was as if he’d never heard her words the previous night. “Sounds heavenly.”
At the door, he paused. “I liked waking up with you in my bed.”
“I did, too.” Even if it would never happen again.
He walked away.
Fuck. With a sigh, she put down the cup. This was getting more and more difficult.
While he made breakfast, she showered and dressed for the day and pretended everything was okay. She just had to hold the fractured pieces of her heart together for a little longer.
She picked at her breakfast, moving it around her plate, even though it was delicious. Then there was no more reason to stall.
“Let’s do this,” she said.
They went to the workshop and placed the call to Julien, video already on.
Nerves and excitement twisted inside her as they waited for him to answer. He’d said he had other things ready to present this year, and that was a good thing. The ‘Hello, Molly’ project, as they’d named it, would take months or years to fully implement. At best, she knew, it was risky. At worst, it could be a financial blunder unlike any other, even if Julien approved it.
Mostly, though, she was proud of what they’d put together, and she knew it mattered to Grant, as well.
Julien finally connected with them.
He was sitting on the white couch in his office, his arm spread along the length of the back, some sort of ugly green concoction in a glass in front of him. Wisely, he didn’t mention her boots.
“We have something we want to show you,” Grant stated.
“Oh?” Julien leaned forward.
“On the screen.”
“If all you two have is a fucking slideshow, I’m firing you both.” Scowling, he stood. “I’m fucking selling the company. Starting over. Just stab me in the gut and skewer me through the heart with a—”
Julien’s theme song rocked the space, all but jiggling electronics off the metal table.
A thousand miles away in Cupertino, California, Julien shut his mouth.
She took a drink of coffee to cover her smile.
“Okay. So maybe your slideshow won’t suck pavement.”
“Rocks,” she corrected, elevating her voice to be heard. “The saying is suck rocks.”
“There’s rocks in pavement,” he shouted back, unconcernedly.
Grant exchanged looks with Aria. “You got this,” she mouthed.
The CGI version of Julien walked onto the screen, every motion accurate. It should be. They’d copied imagery from one of his presentations.
“Well, shut me the fuck up,” he said.
The theme music gradually faded, and, on the screen, the CGI Julien said, “Once every generation, if we’re lucky, something comes along that’s so big, so crazy, so unimaginable that you wonder why no one thought of it before. World, I’d like you to say Hello to Molly.”
“Helllllllo, Genius.”
“Ah…” Aria exchanged glances with Grant. They hadn’t realized that Julien’s voice, though synthesized, would still reach through the electrons to reach her.
“Standby,” Grant told the computer.
As the movie went on, Julien sat down, leaned back, listened, watched. A minute or so in, he took out his pad and scrawled notes on it.
Toward the end, Julien finished with, “Imagine a world where all this is possible. Your world. Only better.” His theme music increased in volume. The CGI image vanished, then words appeared. The future. Here. Now. Almost imperceptibly, the O in ‘Now’ morphed, becoming the Bonds logo. A moment later, the logo was in 3D and the music ended.
Julien sat on his couch, unmoving. After ten full seconds, he said, “This is fucking outrageous. All that passion.” He balled a hand. “That enthusiasm. The vision.”
She knew then that they’d nailed it. That was exactly how he approached life, made decisions, selected projects. And that’s what he communicated to the world. That’s what had made him nearly invincible, maligned as well as adored.
“It’s crazy,” Julien continued.
Grant nodded.
“Years to accomplish.”
“And infinite opportunities to make it better, add more,” Grant said.
She began to see how much this mattered to him. But was it enough? Enough to galvanize him to leave Los Alamos and his past, even for short times, to lead its development and creation?
“Its success or failure will have epic repercussions.”
“So…?” she prompted, unable to wait any longer.
“You’ve blown me away,” Julien admitted. “I wasn’t expecting this. And I do like the movie.”
“The…movie?” she asked, her heart sinking. She thought they’d been discussing the ‘Hello, Molly’ project. And Julien had been appreciating his having his perfection projected onto the big screen.
“I was a storyboard, wasn’t I?” he continued.
She rolled her eyes. “The team at Bonds has it, yes.”
“You’ve set the standard in presentations.”
“And the actual idea?” she prompted.
“Oh, that.” He took a drink of the smooth green concoction. “Of course, it’s stellar,” he said matter-of-factly, as if that had never been in question. “It will need someone to head it.”
She and Julien both looked at Grant.
“I’m available as a consultant,” he said.
He’d answered all her questions. Julien’s, too, she assumed.
“I’ll gather a team,” Julien said, “show them the video, invite them to participate.” He drummed his fingers on the side of the glass. “Ben Marley.”
“He fumbled the last debut,” Grant interjected.
“People learn from their mistakes,” Julien replied with a casual shrug. “Svetlana’s inbound from New York City later today,” he said to Aria after looking at his smart watch. “Are you ready to come home?”
There was no need to stay now that they’d made the presentation. David, her second-in-command, had filled in long enough. Though she’d known her time with Grant was winding down, she hadn’t suspected the end would be so abrupt.
Aria hazarded a glance at Grant. His jaw was tight, and she couldn’t read anything in his expression.
“According to her potential flight plan, she would arrive in Los Alamos around seven o’clock,” Julien continued. “It’ll give you time to pack, wrap things up. You’ll be home by nine.”
Slowly, she nodded. “I’ll be ready.”
Chapter Eleven
Grant waved his airport badge in front of the security camera. A moment later, the arm lifted and he drove onto the property.
Julien’s hybrid plane, the spectacular Tornado, was already there, waiting for Aria.
All afternoon, he’d wanted to say something—express emotions—but hadn’t.
Instead, they’d spent a few minutes in the workshop after ending the call, discussing how well things had gone, congratulating each other.
But tension had made the air thin.
He knew she wanted him to accept a great role at Bonds, maybe even head the ‘Hello, Molly’ implementation team—and he was the natural choice. Aria’s talents were best utilized where she was. But Grant…
He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what Julien wanted. The man had mentioned Ben Marley’s name as division leader on purpose. Grant had wanted Marley fired after the phone fiasco, but Julien had remained steadfast, stupidly so in Grant’s opinion. Julien generally had little patience when people failed, especially when it happened so publicly and spectacularly.
But Marley had admitted the fuckup, accepted responsibility and worked tirelessly to restore the public’s confidence.
Grant maintained it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.
So mentioning Marley as a potential division leader had been calculated to piss Grant off, and it had worked. Mostly because he hated
being manipulated, and Julien had been doing more meddling than usual lately. Julien could take his fucking brilliant ideas and shove them up someone else’s ass.
When he’d lapsed into silence, Aria had excused herself, saying she’d needed to pack.
Since there’d been a lot of the day left and no reason to continue working together, he’d returned to the workshop.
Later, they’d headed to town and had an early dinner at the Montoyas’ place.
For the first time since the meeting with Julien, Aria had been animated, asking Blanca about the app, how the beta testing was doing then, boldly, she’d asked about Julien.
“He invited me to have dinner with him,” Blanca had confessed.
Aria had pretended to be surprised. “Are you going to do it?”
“Have dinner with a billionaire in San Francisco? Are you kidding me? He’s going to send a plane and a pilot.” Then she’d grinned. “I didn’t tell him I’m bringing my sister and my mother.”
Grant and Aria had exchanged glances, and they’d both laughed.
“Priceless,” Aria had said.
“I’m not letting him get any ideas. If he thinks he can get me to do the bedsheet wiggle with him, he’s wrong.”
“Are you going to tell him?” Aria had asked after Blanca had pushed send on her phone app and left the table.
“Hell no.”
“Me either.”
They’d enjoyed that laugh, but had spent the rest of the meal talking in general terms about world events and the upcoming opening of the Bonds’ store in Boston.
“I’ll be there,” she’d said.
Instead of replying, he’d paid the bill.
Grant parked the SUV inside the designated area and watched an airport employee push the stairs up to the Tornado’s side.
Time seemingly warped, vanishing and stretching endlessly at the same time.
He left the engine running, and she made no move to exit the vehicle.
There was so much he wanted to say, needed to say. And fuck it, he couldn’t find the words.
Last night, he’d held her after they’d made love. He’d wanted to confess how much she meant to him, how much her submissive trust had jolted him, how her presence invigorated him, energizing his creativity. But then, as now, he’d had no idea what to say.
Command Page 21