by Amelia Wilde
“You’re mine, Vivienne Davis. Mine.”
“I’m yours,” she gasps, and as her fingers clutch at the bedspread, I slam my full length inside of her.
She lets out a little scream that’s all pleasure, and it mixes with the low sound I hear coming from my chest. Vivienne is tight, her muscles pulsing around my cock as I pound inside her again and again. It’s like she was made for me. I tunnel as deep as I can go, bottoming out, and her hips are like a jackhammer, jerking with every thrust.
“I—” Vivienne gasps, unable to get the words out, and I plunge in as deep as I can go and then hold still. Instinctively, she lowers her breasts another inch toward the bed. She’s trembling so hard under my hands, my cock buried inside of her, that I can’t believe she’s staying in this position. “I—”
“You don’t need my permission to come, sweet thing. Come on my cock, baby. Come.”
She explodes around me, crying out again and again, and the force of her muscles pulsating around me pushes me over the edge. I come hard inside her, impaling her fully on my cock, as the aftershocks rock through her body, again and again.
We stay frozen for a moment, and then she curls to the side, pulling me down with her. Her flushed face is the picture of blissful satisfaction, and my heart breaks. I run a hand through her hair, never wanting to look away from her eyes ever again. I lean down closer to her, and I say it, I say it out loud, even though there are a million reasons not to. “I love you, Vivienne Davis.”
Her gasp this time is sheer delight, and she wraps one hand around the back of my head and pulls me down, kissing me with a tenderness I don’t think I’ve come up against in years, if ever. “I love you, Dominic. It’s—” She shakes her head.
“It’s risky,” I murmur. “There are a thousand reasons not to be together. But I love you. And that’s the only reason I need. It’s the only thing I need to know.”
She’s silent for a moment, and then she lets her eyes travel down the length of my body. “You’re kidding.” Her voice is still low and soft, but her eyes are dancing and glittering.
“That’s how much I want you.” My cock is already standing at attention again from breathing in her intoxicating scent, from stroking my fingers down over the curves of her breasts.
And Vivienne, with a grin that makes me fall for her all over again, tugs at my arm until I lean down on my elbows over her. She spreads her legs wide underneath me and reaches down, taking my cock in her hand, and guides it into her opening. “Can I tell you a secret?” She whispers the words with a hitch in her breath while I take her again, inch by inch.
“Anything.”
“I want you, too. This much.”
27
Vivienne
I lose track of my orgasms, lose track of how many times we come down, bodies shaking and flooded with warmth and heat, only to start all over again. All I know is that it’s nearly five o’clock when we finally emerge from Dominic’s master suite, fresh out of his luxurious shower, my hair displayed in damp waves around my shoulders. I’m wearing one of his dress shirts over a pair of his boxers, the fabric giving off an expensive scent. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so satisfied, so good, in my entire life.
Folding my legs underneath me on the sofa—I see now that it’s covered in fine, soft, buttery leather, and the coolness feels delicious against my newly showered legs—I watch Dominic through the doorway into the kitchen. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
“Do what, open a bottle of wine?” He’s popping the cork on a bottle, taking two glasses down from a cupboard over the sink. The curve at the corner of his mouth gives away that he likes this—he likes these moments when he’s being funny. Dominic isn’t wearing a shirt, only a pair of shorts, and I can’t tear my eyes away from the strong lines of his shoulders, the cut of his abs rising above the kitchen counter. Damn, he is hot. And not only that. Every time I think of that whispered confession—I love you, Vivienne Davis—my whole body goes warm and giddy.
“No…pleasure a woman like that.”
He looks up at me, eyes sparkling, and turns to pull a plate down from another cupboard. “Years of practice.”
“You didn’t take some kind of class?”
He cocks his head to the side. “Oh, right. There was that course at Yale.”
I laugh. It doesn’t make me jealous that he’s been with other women. Today I reaped all the benefits of his experience. After this, it’s going to be hard to call to mind any of the other men I’ve been with—they all pale in comparison in every way.
A quiet buzzing from across the room distracts me from my Dominic-worship. The pattern sounds familiar, but—
It stops, and I watch him arrange some slices of French bread on the plate, reach for some cheese in the fridge—
The buzzing starts again. With a jolt, I realize that it’s my phone, ringing in my purse by the door.
“Oh, shit,” I whisper under my breath, jumping up from the couch. Then I remember myself. I don’t want to look too panicked, but there’s a hustle in my step when I cross to my purse and dig my phone out. Please let it be Margo. Please let it be Margo.
It’s not Margo.
The number on the screen isn’t saved into my contacts list, so there’s no name to go with it, but I recognize the digits. Of course I do. It’s my boss calling—and not Mr. Overhiser, but Milton Jeffries, my boss at the FBI.
My heart leaps into my throat, my gut going cold. Is he calling because he knows I’ve slept with Dominic? In his view, that would really be terrible. Or is he calling because—
I can’t wait for a voicemail, and he’ll be pissed if I do, so I swipe the screen to answer the call and raise the phone to my ear. “Vivienne Davis,” I say, like it’s no big deal.
I cross back into the living room, giving Dominic a little wave and pointing at the phone, and then I head into the hallway toward the master suite. There’s an office along that hall, and I go inside, closing the door gently behind me, and move toward the window, as far away from the door as I can get.
Not that Dominic is going to follow me to spy on my phone call. He’s not. But this is—
“Are you at the Wilder Building?” Milton’s response is clipped, strained.
“No, I—”
“Where are you?”
“I’m not far.” My mind scrambles for an explanation, but I don’t have one, except— “I was following a lead. I can be back there in fifteen minutes. What’s going on, Milton?”
“The surveillance team caught something while sorting through the bulk emails.” A few people are assigned to the case who watch every piece of email that goes in and out of Wilder Industries, trying to figure out who’s responsible for the theft, but the data isn’t always complete and there are massive holes to fill. “From what they can tell, there’s going to be an information exchange in thirty minutes. We need you on the ground.”
“Thirty minutes? But that’ll be after five.”
Milton makes a short sound that’s meant to indicate that I’m being stupid. “All the better, Viv. At least some of the staff will have gone home by then, right? Narrow it down…”
“I know. Of course. I’ll be back there shortly.”
I end the call before he can ask me what lead I was following and where it had taken me that I needed to be away from the Wilder Building on a Monday afternoon.
I will my hands to stop trembling and go back out into the living room, where Dominic is setting out the plate of bread and cheese and glasses of wine on the table. The instant he sees my face, his smile disappears.
“What is it, Vivienne?”
“I—I have to go back to work.”
He narrows his eyes, and then his mouth turns up into another smile. “If Overhiser is giving you a problem—”
“It’s something I need to finish. I forgot about it before I left.” I grin back at him, trying to be convincing, and I can’t tell if it’s working. “Don’t be mad at me, boss.”
I
can see him considering this situation, considering whether he should tell me to stay, that he owns the company, that ultimately he’s my boss and he’ll have the final say.
I try again. “I don’t want—” I bite my lip, looking down at the floor, hating that I’m being deceptive, hating the fact that after all this, after what we had together this afternoon—I love you, Vivienne Davis—
“I understand.” Dominic crosses behind the couch. I look up into his eyes, wondering why he’s not going to press for details, wondering why—and then it hits me. He trusts me. We’re both still in the afterglow of our time together in bed. My heart warms, then sinks, then aches at the sight of him. He leans down, taking my face in his strong hands, and kisses me softly on the lips. “Come back when you’re done, okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper, wishing it was over already, wishing I could retreat to his bedroom with him and never come out.
But instead I put my clothes back on, take the elevator downstairs, and throw myself into the Town Car he’s called for me.
Back to work.
28
Dominic
If Vivienne Davis is the ocean, I’m drowning in her, and happily. The scent of her, the sight of her, the sound of her—it’s the first thing on my mind when I wake up in the morning, and the last thing on my mind when I go to sleep at night, even if that sounds so sickeningly cliché it should never be said by anyone ever again.
There’s a clear divide in my life now. There is the time before Monday, and then the time after Monday. Before I took her, told her I loved her, before she admitted the same to me, before I made her mine…and after.
Now she is mine. Now we’re not dancing around the breathless attraction that surges through the air when we look at each other. We’re in it, together.
Or at least, I’m in it.
Vivienne stayed with me Monday night, but she wouldn’t let me drop her off in front of the building. She’d grinned at me, naked and pink, fresh from the shower. “I’m over the fact that you’re my boss. That doesn’t mean everyone else will be.”
“Vivienne, I own Wilder Enterprises.”
“So?” She shook her head. “I still want to…I still want my career.” She’d glanced down at the floor when she said that, like it was something to be slightly ashamed of. “I don’t want anyone to think I got something out of this by sleeping with my boss.”
That was the first indication that, yes, we’re in love, but no, Vivienne isn’t going to jump into an entirely new life head first. As much as I’d like for her to move in with me right now and stay in my bed until the end of time.
She also wouldn’t stay at my place every night.
“I love you,” I’d whispered into her ear late Tuesday evening as she stood at the door to the elevator. “Stay.”
Vivienne had taken in a deep breath like she had to brace herself for what she was about to say. “I love you, Dominic. But I—” She’d pressed her head against my shoulder, arms wrapped around my neck. “I want to do this the right way, you know?” Something in her voice made me think she wasn’t quite telling me everything, but I didn’t press. Vivienne is a mystery I’m learning more about every day. Acting like some controlling asshole isn’t going to get me anywhere.
Even if Vivienne is the type who, behind closed doors, likes to be punished, likes to have a red ass.
I’m in the middle of a meeting the following Monday when my cock jumps in my pants. Thankfully I’m sitting at the conference room table, so it hides the tent it makes in my trousers. My mind has drifted away from the meeting topic, a rundown of some of the new energy investments we’re preparing to make in Central American companies. Instead, I’ve been thinking about Vivienne bending over the arm of the couch on Sunday afternoon, begging for me to please, please—
I can’t force the grin off of my face. She wants what she wants, and sometimes, like Sunday afternoon, she wants to submit to me like no woman ever has before.
“Mr. Wilder?”
“Yes. I’m listening.” Childs’ face is sober. Have I been listening? I can’t remember what the last thing anyone at this meeting said, but I feel the smile vanishing from my face. “What is it, Childs?”
“I think we’re going to lose this opportunity, Mr. Wilder.”
I wrack my brain to figure out what the hell he’s referring to. “Refresh me on why exactly.” I try not to do this shit—try not to be the absent-minded owner of the company who pushes all responsibility off onto other people—and today I’ve obviously failed miserably.
“They’re demanding another level of commitment,” Childs drawls, leaning back in his seat. He’s looking at me through narrowed eyes. None of them would dare challenge me about something as stupid as daydreaming during a meeting, but my heart picks up the pace. Jesus. This is exactly why I’ve stayed away from women the last few years. Vivienne is worth it, of course she is, but—
“What level of commitment would that be? You’ve been running point on this, haven’t you?”
“Yes.” Childs leans forward again, folding his hands on the desk. “Yes, but this group exerts more regional influence than we thought. They’re not so much separate companies as individual entities under a pretty massive umbrella corporation, and they hold a lot of sway.”
Irritation spikes in my chest. “What are you saying, Childs? Spit it out.”
“They want a sit-down with you to ensure that you’ll personally be overseeing the partnership.”
“And then what?” The initial meeting is never the only thing. It never is.
Childs raises one shoulder, then lets it drop. “As far as I can tell, they’d like to host the meeting in their own offices.”
My jaw goes tight. Screw this. Screw making a special trip to Central America to shake hands with some second-rate businessmen and tell them that, of course, as the owner of Wilder Enterprises, I’ll be wasting my time making sure every detail of the partnership with them is—
That thought stops me dead.
Wasting my time?
Not giving a shit about details of a partnership that could ultimately be worth billions?
No. No.
I can love Vivienne Wilder, and I do love Vivienne Wilder. I can’t get enough of her. But I can’t let myself go down this path. I can’t let everything in my life go in favor of—
In favor of what, exactly? A relationship that could last the rest of my life?
I take in a deep breath and let it out. There’s a balance here, and I’ll find it. There’s no doubt I’ll find it. But for today, at least, I can’t think about Vivienne any more. I can’t let her derail a massive energy partnership that will extend Wilder Enterprises’ reach through more countries than ever before. That would be irresponsible. That would be something my father would do.
Not a chance.
“What’s the timeline on this?”
“We’re supposed to finalize things in the second week of August, if all goes right.” Childs taps his fingers against the hardwood surface of the meeting table. “I’m concerned that they’re getting cold feet.”
“I’ll have Emily arrange something with your office. I assume you’ll also attend.”
“Of course. I’ll have my girl send over everything Emily needs to start making the arrangements.”
“Excellent.”
I stand up abruptly. I need to get my head back on straight, and I’m hoping a break for lunch will do that. I only wish I could snuff out the cold pit of worry that’s churning in my gut.
What if I can’t figure out how to make this balance between Vivienne and Wilder Enterprises work?
I push the thought from my head, dismiss the meeting, and go upstairs for lunch.
29
Vivienne
The mad dash back to Wilder Enterprises ended up being a bust, and I’m still fuming about it a week later.
Milton had been half right. There were fewer people in the office than there would have been in the middle of the afternoon. What Milto
n didn’t know, however, was that half the executives are attending a conference in London next week, which means that their staff members were busy working overtime to make sure every last detail was smoothed out well in advance. Overhiser isn’t one of the executives heading to Europe, which explains why he was gone—as usual—before Dominic had a chance to sweep me off my feet.
I told a few innocuous white lies once I got back to my desk, but finalized some details for a meeting scheduled later in the week so I could point to something concrete if anyone asked. Only then did I set about snooping as best I could in plain sight with so many people still around. I made calls to other departments to ask if specific people were still there, casually following up to see if anyone was actually there at all.
The executive level was a hive of activity, like it tends to be before a big trip. There were a few people staying late in the marketing department, three more in tech support, a bunch of people from the janitorial staff…
I’d wanted to scream.
Instead, I printed off files and came up with excuses to visit the other floors to spy on what was happening.
It wasn’t the most subtle of investigations, because—as Milton must have known when he called me—the information that was being exchanged with the Chinese wasn’t going to be transferred in some obvious way, like being handed over in a black briefcase. The transaction would likely be transmitted in an email that the culprit hoped was secure, hoped was secret.
At least, all indications pointed to this method.
That didn’t stop me from keeping my eyes peeled for any kind of handoff between an employee and someone who appeared to be from the outside.
Overhiser receives a master file listing all of the meetings scheduled on a given day, same as all the executives, and when I wasn’t walking the building, coming up with feasibly related questions for as many people as I could without setting off any alarm bells, I studied the schedule for anything—anything—seemingly out of the ordinary. Anyone visiting from a foreign country, China specifically, but anywhere outside the United States. Anyone making a delivery from a company with a generic business name or title.