Evan

by Allie K. Adams

  From everything he’d read about Clint Duke, and now knew about him personally, Evan didn’t see the same heartlessness that seemed to run in the Duke bloodline. Clint didn’t seem the type to be out for blood. There’d been multiple articles about how the new head of Duke Enterprises may breathe new hope into a company known for its brutal, ruthless business deals.

  The fact he’d saved Kelley’s proved that. Maybe the deal was bigger than the land the building occupied.

  “Can I get you anything?” Evan asked to break the silence. “Coffee?”

  He shook his head and closed his eyes as he leaned on the wall behind him. “I’ve already had three cups of the gut-churning stuff. It’s really awful.”

  “I make a great cup of coffee.” Why the hell did he say that?

  “You don’t say.” Clint slid his eyes open to slits. He straightened suddenly as he shifted his attention behind Evan. “Doctor? How is he?”

  “Mr. Duke,” the older woman greeted. “Your uncle experienced what we call a coronary spasm. He’s resting now. We’ll keep him overnight for observation.”

  “Will he need another stent?”

  She nodded. “More than likely. He also needs to change his diet. He’s already asked me for a steak and fries.” Her comment didn’t even earn her a chuckle from Clint. “You look exhausted. Get some rest. We’ll know more tomorrow.”

  “I still haven’t adjusted back to this time zone.” He rubbed his face before thrusting his hands through his hair. His phone buzzed. He sighed and glanced at it, then dropped it into his pocket.

  “Do you have someone to take you home?” Her gaze bounced to Evan.

  “I can call my driver. I sent him home thinking I’d be here all night. He’s got an early flight, heading to Texas to meet his first grandson.”

  “I’ll take him home,” Evan offered and ignored the jump in his pulse. Clint was in no condition to do anything more than sleep.

  “Good. I’d hate for him to fall asleep at the wheel and we meet again under different circumstances. Good night.” She walked over to the nurse’s station, grabbed a chart, and opened it before engaging in conversation with the doctor already standing there.

  “I guess that means we can go.” Evan reached for Clint, but stopped himself before they touched. He wasn’t used to being with someone still hiding his sexuality. “After you.”

  Once they were on the road, Clint gave him the address to his penthouse, which wasn’t necessary. Evan knew he lived on the top floor of the thirty-seven-story high-rise on the corner of Marion and 5th. GQ had featured it in an article on the top ten wealthiest men and where they lived. Evan still had a copy.

  “There’s never any parking on the street,” Clint pointed out as they slowed in front of the rounded glass rotunda. “The entrance to the underground parking is on 5th. There’s a private elevator for residents so we can bypass the lobby.”

  Too bad. Evan hadn’t had a chance to see the three-story lobby in person. He was sure the images of the granite fireplace and towering pillar didn’t do it justice. The green wall was rumored to have something like five thousand plants.

  Wait. Was Clint asking him up? He didn’t want to assume, but it definitely sounded that way. As casually as possible, he asked, “Should I drop you at the elevator?”

  “No, you should join me inside.” He held Evan’s gaze.

  “Are you asking me up?”

  “I’m not asking.”

  He should be offended. Annoyed, at least. Instead, Evan couldn’t find an open spot fast enough and parked. It was just to make sure Clint got to bed right away. The thought of how Evan ensured that happened had his imagination in overdrive.

  “This way.” Clint placed his hand on the small of Evan’s back and led him over to the elevator.

  Evan chewed on his bottom lip to stop himself from babbling, as he tended to do whenever his nerves got the better of him. Like in the fitting room. Like now. He was about to step foot into a private elevator that would whisk them up to the private penthouse of Clint Duke. There he’d immerse himself into the private life of the man he’d only read about.

  Clint used a card to call the elevator. It opened and they stepped in. He swiped his card again, entered a code on the keypad, and hit the button, lighting up the PH. He then folded his hands in front of him as the doors shut. Evan glanced around to avoid the other man’s heated gaze, even though it burned into his neck. Marbled floor. Wood sides separated by lighted mirrors. Gold-trimmed everything. It even smelled expensive.

  “Impressed?” he asked.

  Evan smiled to cover his nerves. “Are you kidding? The elevator in my building has way more than this.”

  “Such as?”

  Worn carpet. Cracked wood-paneling. Mysterious stains on both the carpet and paneling. He didn’t even want to think about the smell. He kept it simple by answering, “Too much to list.”

  “Guess I’ll find out when we pay it a visit.”

  Pay it a visit? Why we? Why include Evan in that comment? He wouldn’t pay it a visit. He lived there. Instead of asking, he bit down on his lower lip to stop himself from saying anything else.

  The doors opened into the foyer of the enormous penthouse and Clint waved for Evan to step out first, which he did. The heels of his shoes clicked against the white marble floor as he slowly made his way into the open floorplan. Holy Jesus. The entryway alone was bigger than Evan’s entire apartment and opened up into a giant room with twenty-foot ceilings. Floor-to-ceiling windows made up the entire west wall, curved to maximize sunlight.

  Clint walked into the kitchen off to the left and stopped on the other side of the long island of granite countertop. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “It’s after midnight. I should really go.” Even with his comment, Evan moved further into the penthouse, his curiosity driving him. Well, that and the hopes they’d at least share a kiss goodnight. He wouldn’t be opposed to sharing more than that.

  “I want you to stay here tonight.”

  He blinked as Clint went about pouring them each a glass of white wine, like he didn’t just drop that bomb. He cupped both classes in one hand as he moved around the island and approached, his gaze darkening with every step.

  “Is that a request?”

  Clint grinned. “Did it sound like a request?”

  “Not really.” He accepted the wine. “You didn’t even say please.”

  “I’m not the one to typically beg.” Clint’s eyes danced as he took a slow sip.

  Evan didn’t know how to take that comment. “Who does?”

  “My subs.”

  Not this again. “I already told you. I’m not into that lifestyle.”

  “Have you ever tried it?”

  “No, and I’m not about to start now.” He stepped away from Clint and over to the windows, watching the Seattle Great Wheel dancing with bright green and blue lights. A few boats were still out this late, floating in Elliott Bay, as the crescent moon shined on from the cloudless sky, reflecting off the water. The view from thirty-seven stories up took his breath away.

  “Evan,” Clint said from behind him. He took the drink from Evan’s hands. “Come with me.”

  Despite telling the man he wasn’t into the lifestyle, Evan had to admit, he was curious. He’d seen enough movies, read enough stories on the subject, that he had an idea what to expect. Clint set the glasses on the kitchen counter before taking Evan’s hand and leading him up a winding staircase.

  “What’s up here?”

  “My playroom.”

  “P-playroom?” He tripped on a stair and would have face-planted it had Clint not caught him.

  “And several other rooms.”

  Evan didn’t care about the other rooms. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Clint had in his playroom. They reached the top of the stairs. When Evan stopped, Clint pulled him by the hand and led him past the other doors, and paused in front of the last door at the end of the hall as he faced him. “Are yo
u ready?”

  “For what?” He swallowed hard.

  “For this.” Clint opened the door and dragged Evan into the room. The normal room. Where were the whips and chains? All the leather binds? There should at least be handcuffs or something. “You seem disappointed.”

  He was. Why, he couldn’t explain. He didn’t want to be a part of that lifestyle, yet when he thought he was about to be thrust into it, his excitement to experience something new, something forbidden, had his skin humming. “It’s so…”

  “Boring,” Clint finished.

  “Exactly.”

  “That’s because this is my bedroom.” He kicked off his shoes and removed his shirt before sitting in a corner chair to pull off his socks. “As much as I’d love to share my playroom with you, you’ve made it abundantly clear you’re not interested.” He dropped his socks and stood, working his belt.

  “Is that the only way we can be together?”

  “It’s not the only way.” He tossed the pants aside and returned to the seat, leaning his elbows on his knees. “But it’s the best way. Maybe it really is the only way.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’ve already broken several of my rules with you, Evan.”

  “Why is that?” He didn’t know what to do with his hands. He should be doing something with them, something that didn’t make him look so pathetic—like he was now as he fidgeted.

  “I have no damn idea, to be honest. I have a no touching rule until we have a contract in place.”

  Contract? No touching? He didn’t like the sound of either of those. “We already kissed.”

  “I know.” He didn’t sound happy about it. After checking his phone, he set it aside. The man always seemed to be working. How exhausting. “And if you hadn’t turned me down for that drink last night—something I’ve never had happen before—I would have broken a hell of a lot more rules.”

  “You’ve never had anyone reject you before?” The thought intrigued Evan. How did Clint Duke get to be a man of almost thirty without a single rejection? Then again, as rich and powerful as he was, not to mention ridiculously good-looking, he didn’t have the same struggles as the rest of the world.

  “Never by anyone who matters.”

  He mattered? Evan McKoy, a no one from the streets of Seattle, mattered to Clint Duke, the CEO of Duke Enterprises and one of the most powerful men in the world. He’d take it. Just to make sure he didn’t hear that wrong, he asked, “I matter to you?”

  Clint stood and took his time approaching. Evan held his ground. And the other man’s dark gaze. Clint cupped the back of Evan’s neck and kept him in place. He didn’t jerk Evan to him. He didn’t slam their lips together. He simply restrained Evan with nothing more than a look and a hand on the back of his neck. “You matter a great deal to me.”

  “Why?”

  He weaved his fingers into Evan’s hair and tightened his grip before yanking down, lifting his chin. And then their lips were together, drawing a moan from Evan. Clint thrusted his tongue in, exploring Evan’s mouth with the finesse of a man well-experienced in the art of kissing. While one hand held him firmly in place, Clint grabbed Evan’s hip with the other, restraining him further. He couldn’t move and didn’t want to.

  Clint took his time taking in every inch of Evan’s mouth, spending an eternity driving him wild, clearly with purpose. Evan was helpless, his arms drawn around Clint, touching him, caressing the muscles of his back. He couldn’t breathe yet never wanted this kiss to end.

  And then it did. Clint pushed away and licked his lips, his eyes so dark and hungry they devoured Evan until he was ready to beg to be taken to the playroom. “That’s why.”

  “That’s a compelling reason.” Evan shook his head to stop the room from spinning.

  His lips quirked into a half-smile. “Now, my sweet Evan, I’m going to break another one of my rules by having you to stay with me tonight. Here, in my room. Not for sex, but just to lay with me.”

  He looked so vulnerable at that moment. Evan’s heart melted into a puddle. “What part of that is breaking the rules?”

  “All of it.”

  7

  Clint didn’t have to open his eyes to know Evan was gone. It disappointed him but didn’t surprise him. The man looked about as comfortable talking about a playroom as a virgin would be actually seeing a playroom.

  But then he’d kissed Evan the way he’d wanted to kiss him from the moment he saw him. Hard. Dominant. No-holds-barred. It was the kiss to base all future kisses on. It was the kiss to set all future expectations on. And, damn it, he’d responded exactly as Clint had hoped. Evan wanted to be dominated, even as he claimed the opposite.

  Clint stretched and swung his legs off the side of the bed, enjoying the cool feel of the hardwood beneath his feet. After pulling his phone out from under some papers, he checked on his uncle and moved him to a private wing—the benefits of having billions of dollars and a personal physician at his beck and call. He then changed into his gear and spent the next two hours working out every single ounce of stress he’d collected since Atlanta. Even after exhausting his muscles, he still had tension coursing through him only one thing could satisfy.

  And he’d already left.

  He showered and dressed, then came downstairs to find the background check sitting on his kitchen counter. Angela never failed him. She was discreet, professional, and had been his executive assistant since his first day on the job at Duke Enterprises—one of the only gifts from his father he’d actually needed. On top of the stack of papers sat a sticky note. He pulled it from the paper and read it aloud. “Anomalies noted. See page 5.”

  He frowned and flipped to the page, skimming over what he’d already expected. Evan had built himself from nothing into the sharp man he was today. He graduated from high school but had never attended college. Odd to be without any higher education, but not unheard of. When he landed on the reason for Angela’s note, he read it twice. How could searching on his phone come up as not a valid number? He’d called it yesterday and had gotten through. To prove his point, he scrolled through his recent calls.

  And stopped, befuddled as to what he saw. The 9-1-1 call. He’d called Evan after that, yet his call history showed the next call as blocked, then the next to his mother when he was at the hospital. Why the hell was Evan’s number blocked? He took the stairs two at a time to grab the card from his pocket, only to find all his pockets empty. Shit! He’d left the card in the car.

  No, Evan had given him a second card. Clint had hidden that one in his wallet and pulled it out, memorizing the number. He then dialed it from memory and waited. It rang four times and went to voicemail as it had done yesterday. For good measure, he entered the number into his contacts so when Evan called back, Clint would know the caller.

  But the number wouldn’t save.

  What the hell? Clint tried again. And, again, it wouldn’t save. It kept flashing an error message that the phone number couldn’t be saved. Maybe his phone had issues. He shut it off and counted to ten, drumming his fingers on the desk in his room as he waited for it to reboot. When it came back online, he checked his contacts. Then his call history. Another blocked number.

  He called Angela. “Something’s wrong with my phone.”

  “Something’s wrong with that number,” she corrected. “I tried, as well. From several numbers. It just goes to voicemail. I never did get a call back.”

  “I did, last night. I called Evan at that number. He didn’t answer, but he called me back shortly after.”

  “From that number?”

  “Actually,” he paused as he worked it through in his head. “I didn’t check the number when I answered. I just scrolled through my call history. The number is blocked. How can that be if it’s one I called?”

  “Let me make a few calls.” She ended their call, never one for small talk.

  He grabbed his suit jacket off the back of the chair and slipped it on. If Evan wouldn’t answer his phone
, Clint knew of other ways to reach him. He dialed his driver. “Meet me out front. We’re heading to Kelley’s.”

  “I’m at the airport, sir. Remember?”

  “Of course, Donald. I’m sorry.” Shit. How could he forget about Texas and the grandbaby when he announced it last night to two people who didn’t even know the man.

  “How’s your uncle? I can reschedule the trip if it’s not a good time.”

  “No,” he answered quickly. “My uncle is going to be fine. I’ll make other arrangements. Please enjoy your time off. You’ve earned it.”

  “Thank you, sir. They’re boarding. Are you sure you don’t need me to stay?”

  “Go. I can manage to find my way around Seattle without you for a few days.” He ended the call and redialed Angela. “Can you find me a new driver?”

  “What happened to Donald?”

  “He’s taking some time off to visit family.”

  “How soon do you need the driver to report to the penthouse?”

  “In an hour.”

  She muttered a few words under her breath before clearing her throat. “That doesn’t give me enough time to properly vet someone. I need to do background checks, fingerprinting, interviews. I can’t guarantee discretion and confidentiality otherwise.”

  “You don’t have any other drivers as backup?”

  “Sir, Donald has been your driver since before your father died. We have others, but their files need updating. You need to tell me these things ahead of time.”

  “Are you seriously lecturing me on what I need to tell you?”

  “Yes,” she fired back, always one to keep him in line. “I’ll find you a driver, Mr. Duke.” She hung up and, within thirty minutes, had a new driver waiting in the parking garage when Clint exited the elevator.

  The man spent more time with his eyes on his phone than on the road. He’d be sure to let Angela know this driver wouldn’t be driving Clint around a second time. There was a reason Clint needed a driver. He conducted most of his business from his phone. The driver, however, shouldn’t. At least not while driving.