by Lynda Aicher
Done Deal
By Lynda Aicher
What’s your pleasure?
From Lynda Aicher, author of the bestselling Wicked Play books, comes an exclusive invitation to the Boardroom—where working late has its rewards.
The Boardroom. After hours, it’s where Bay Area moguls indulge their fantasies. Ties are loosened. Inhibitions, too.
Assistant Avery Fast watched from a distance, mouth gaping, blood roaring wildly in her ears as she stared at the naked woman on the table before her. At executive Carson Haggert ordering a man to pleasure her. It made her feel guilty, embarrassed...and hot.
Carson watched and waited. Waited for Avery to notice him in the Boardroom. Waited for her to like what she saw. Waited to see what she’d do the next day. And the next. He couldn’t let her go—not when she’d seen what goes on in the Boardroom. He couldn’t stop thinking about the desire in her eyes, the flush on her cheeks, her obvious arousal.
Getting her to join was easy. But now Carson wants Avery all to himself.
This book is approximately 76,000 words
One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you’re looking for with an HEA/HFN. It’s a promise!
Carina Press acknowledges the editorial services of Rhonda Merwarth
Dedication
To the inner battles we all fight. May you have the courage to face each one and find peace at the end.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Epilogue
Excerpt from Done Deal by Lynda Aicher
Also by Lynda Aicher
Chapter One
The folder had to be in the boardroom. There was no other place she could’ve left it.
Avery Fast plowed down the empty stairwell, engrossed in her thoughts as she backtracked her way through her afternoon. She’d already checked the smaller conference room, the break room and Carmen’s desk. And that’d been after she’d torn her own desk apart and scanned her boss’s.
As the executive assistant to the financial controller at Faulkner Investment Group’s San Francisco office, a lot of confidential information flowed through her. Her boss, Gregory Conwell, counted on her to keep the data secured, and she had never let him down in the eighteen months since she’d been in her position.
And she wasn’t about to now, either.
Her heels tapped on the stairs, the echo bouncing around the cavernous concrete silo. The single flight wasn’t enough to work off her frustration. She brushed her bangs away from her eyes as she swiped her badge through the reader and yanked the heavy fire door open with a grunt.
The Faulkner offices were spread over two floors of a high-rise in downtown San Francisco. A staircase near the main entrance offered a grander connection than the fire stairwell she used, but it was also out of her way. Efficiency was crucial right now.
A clammy sheen had built up on her heated skin the more her panic deepened. Had someone taken the folder from her desk? Why? Who? Had she even brought the folder to the meeting in the boardroom that afternoon?
Doubt twisted with the knot constricting her chest. She didn’t remember doing so, but... The preliminary quarterly numbers were in it. The ones no one saw until they were verified, rolled up and strategically manipulated. The raw data wasn’t for general consumption, especially the payroll details.
Her stomached roiled at the thought of having to explain what happened. What if someone had found the folder and shared the information with others? Her job would be toast—along with her reputation.
Why had she printed them anyway? Oh yeah, Gregory had asked her to. Why couldn’t he keep everything online in the age of digital everything?
The office doors along the darkened hallway were closed, the lights off behind them, but a dim light shone from the open door of the conference room. She’d sat on the far side, near the end of the table during the meeting. Could someone have set the file on the coffee credenza? Or maybe it was still on the table, if she’d even left it there.
She was out of options. It had to be there.
Her brain stalled about a second after her feet did in the boardroom doorway. Her mouth fell open. Oh my...
The boardroom wasn’t empty after all. Nope. Not even close.
She scrambled to comprehend what she was seeing while knowing exactly what she watched: sex. Wanton, hedonistic, erotic sex. A woman and two guys.
But here? In the office? On the boardroom table?
Heat raced up her back to engulf her chest and neck. Blood roared in her ears, accelerated by her racing heart and the strange desire blasting through her.
She blinked once, twice, but the image remained. Propriety told her to look away. No, she should run away. What was she doing standing there? Walk the hell away. Now.
But she didn’t move.
The scene was...unbelievable. Unreal. Wrong. And so damn hot.
A single lamp on the credenza provided a soft glow to the room and dulled the edges of the threesome along with their actions. Their reflections were hazy shadows in the large windows along the outside wall. The lights from other buildings and the streets far below provided an open backdrop and little protection from prying eyes.
Like hers.
She should go—before they noticed her. She should.
She searched for moisture in her mouth. Swallowed hard. Slowly wet her dry lips.
What would it feel like to be that woman? The one splayed on the table, naked except for her black stilettos? Her eyes were closed, her red lips parted in a silent sigh, or would that be a cry of pleasure? Her black hair was spread in a messy array across the wood, her wrists bound by two thick cuffs over her head. She was lean yet curvy. Beautiful. And totally lost in what was being done to her.
Her back arched, a soft moan escaping to flow with a sultry lethargy through the room. It swirled around Avery to drag her deeper into the eroticism. Avery’s breath hitched. Her nipples puckered with sharp tingles that raced to her pussy.
The men were feasting on the woman. That was the only way she could describe it. Both of them. At the same time. A guy in a dark suit had his back to Avery, his head buried between the woman’s spread legs. Another in a white dress shirt and navy tie was sucking on a nipple while rolling the other between his fingertips. He stretched back, the tip clearly caught between his teeth, and the woman’s back arched impossibly more. She squirmed, another purring moan tumbling out before a gasped “Please.”
Yes, please. Avery’s back bowed in time with the woman’s, her nipples aching for the same attention.
It didn’t make sense. She’d never enjoyed porn. And she
’d certainly never considered going to a live sex show. Yet...
She swallowed. Inhaled. The heavy scent of sex and arousal flooded her, adding another layer of stimulation. She sucked in another long, slow breath. The hedonism flowed through her to dislodge every concept of conservatism or impropriety she held.
A low growl—yes, growl—from one of the men tore through the room. Raw, fierce, exalting. No man had ever made that sound with her.
A soft whimper of want tumbled out before she realized it was there. Oh, God. She clamped her mouth shut, fear charging in. Had they heard her?
She took a step back, prepared to flee. Guilt sped in, yet it wasn’t enough to make her go. She’d be mortified if they caught her, but what would they do next? Would the men switch places? Would they fuck her? Both of them? At the same time?
Her pussy clenched, lust swarming hot and fast from her core. Her head spun with so many desires she couldn’t process them. She shifted her feet and bit her lip to keep quiet.
She’d never had a guy who’d been that devoted to her pleasure. Ever. Let alone two.
The woman gasped, her legs spreading even wider. The man between her legs pumped his arm, a low sucking and squelching sound emanating. Avery’s eyes widened on another inhalation. She couldn’t actually see what he was doing, but she didn’t need to.
Her pussy pulsed again. Her nipples tightened even more. They ached to be touched. Her hand inched up before she clenched her fist and forced it back to her side.
The woman on the table turned her head. Her eyes fluttered open as a soft cry bled from her lush lips. She closed her eyes only to reopen them, her focus squarely on Avery.
Oh, shit.
Her panic pounded out a frantic SOS in her head, yet she remained trapped in the moment. A sultry smile curved over the woman’s ruby-red lips, her hooded eyes conveying the pleasure the men were giving her. Passion overrode logic along with every ounce of self-preservation Avery had. Heat flashed another wave of want over her chest and burst into an aching demand between her legs.
She gripped the doorjamb, her head swaying with the heady sensations. The eye contact made the whole experience intimate. Like she was supposed to be there.
But she wasn’t.
The woman wet her lips in a slow pass that screamed seduction. The movement swiped out at Avery in the tease that it was. And for some damn reason, she wanted to tease her right back. Her tongue pushed at her teeth, but she kept them tightly closed.
This was insane. She’d never been sexually attracted to women. Not really anyway. Not enough to act on it.
But...
What am I thinking?
She jerked her gaze away, determined to leave only to freeze again.
Another man stood in the darkened back corner of the room, arms crossed over his chest, feet spread in a power stance. And his eyes were locked squarely on her.
Her muscles seemed to petrify along with her thoughts. She had no doubt that he’d been watching her the whole time. He didn’t move either. Not even a flick of his lips or brow. He simply stared at her. Waiting.
Embarrassment doubled down on the lust blazing through her to set Avery on fire from head to toe. Heat flamed over her cheeks before sinking down her neck—and she still didn’t move.
His face was shadowed, but she didn’t need the florescent lights to know exactly who he was: Carson Haggert, the chief technology officer for all of Faulkner.
And possibly one of the sexiest men she’d ever encountered.
His tie was loosened, suit jacket gone, shirtsleeves turned up to expose his forearms, but he still emanated that all-consuming authority that prickled over her skin whenever he was near. It consumed her now, sucking the truths from her and exposing every lascivious thought running through her mind.
The exposure trembled down her legs, and she locked her knees to stop it from showing. A high whine of unabashed pleasure winged past her in an unnecessary reminder of what she’d walked into. The pace of the sucking sound increased with the woman’s panted breaths and soft moans.
“Make her come.”
The hard command shot from Carson to crack through the mounting tension. Avery flinched, her lips parting in confusion. His focus was still squarely on her. Did he mean Avery was supposed to make the woman come? Or were the men supposed to make Avery come?
Three short cries were followed by a long, drawn-out note that left no doubt about who was supposed to make whom come. And she wasn’t included in the party. At all.
She was the intruder.
The uninvited observer.
The one risking her job by standing there.
That last thought finally got her moving. Mortification set in the second she spun around and fled down the hallway. Her heart pounded in another flight of panic, this one dogged by fear.
The closed office doors sped by, her pace increasing the more reality reemerged. She’d just watched an illicit sex game play out in the boardroom. And she’d been caught doing so.
She threw herself against the crash bar, slammed through the fire door and flew up the stairs as fast as her heels and pencil skirt allowed. Her hand squeaked against the metal railing when she gripped it to turn on the landing. The door slammed shut below, and she flinched, tensing. She shot a quick look back, at once fearing Carson had followed her while hoping he would.
And then what? Would she be fired? Threatened into silence? Harassed?
She yanked on the door handle when she reached her floor only to stumble forward when it didn’t open. Of course it was locked. She jerked up, her arm throbbing, and fumbled for her ID badge clipped to her waist. Her hand was shaking when she finally swiped her ID through the card reader.
She dashed to her office, her head swiveling the entire time. Would Carson show up before she could leave? Would he cut her off at the exit? Block her flight of embarrassment?
Force her against the wall and lay a hot demanding kiss on her?
Right. Like that had a chance in hell of happening.
It took more precious seconds for her to grab her purse, lock her drawers with fingers that refused to cooperate and swipe her coat off the rack before she could flee the office entirely. Her pulse rate didn’t decrease one iota the entire time.
Not when she peeked around the corner in the hallway or tried to quietly tiptoe down the wooden staircase near the office lobby. Not when she bit her lip and seemed to wait forever for the down arrow to light up on any one of the bank of elevators. Not when the ding of arrival pinged through the silence to signal her freedom.
And not when she caught a glimpse of Carson Haggert staring at her from across the lobby, a knowing smile curling his lips as the elevator doors closed.
She clenched her purse tighter, adrenaline flying through her system to leave her sweaty and chilled at once. Her mind reeled, thoughts scrambling in and out before a single one could take hold.
She wasn’t naïve or exactly sheltered, but this stuff didn’t happen to her—or anyone she knew. Nothing in her thirty years of life had prepared her for this. Not one thing.
The rapid click of her heels across the marble-tiled lobby echoed through the open atrium to highlight her flight. The security guard studied her, a brow raised in unasked question.
“Night,” she managed to croak out over the scratchy dryland that’d overtaken her throat. The chilled dampness hit her in the face the second she shoved through the revolving glass door. She sucked in a deep breath and slipped into her jacket before the foggy air could sink into her bones.
The sidewalk was fairly empty, which made the air seem colder and the shadows deeper. She laughed at herself, yet the quick tap of her heels didn’t slow. A glance over her shoulder showed a few people huddled into their coats, chins tucked low against the chill. But no Carson, even though she’d half expected to see him.
Expected or
wanted?
God, she was being naïve and stupid.
The fluorescent light buzzed under the protective cover of the bus shelter that provided zero protection from the curling wisps of fog. Her silk shirt clung to her back, and a shudder overtook her entire body. Goose bumps broke out on her bare legs despite the erotic warmth that still encased her. She huddled further into her trench coat, but it didn’t help.
How had she gotten herself into this mess? If she’d left the boardroom when she’d first realized what she’d walked in on, then she wouldn’t be so screwed. No, if she hadn’t misplaced the reports in the first place, she wouldn’t have returned to the office to hunt for them only to stumble into an illicit ménage à trois.
Images of the steamy threesome combined with the commanding presence of Carson crashed in as the bus pulled up. Another shiver trembled down her, ending with the tight clench of her pussy around the unfulfilled want.
No. No way. There was no way she’d ever be able to do something like that. She shook her head in an attempt to clear the visuals scorched into her memory. It didn’t work. Would they be imprinted forever, tormenting her with ideas and longings she’d never dare act on?
She didn’t glance at any of the other passengers on the short ride home, instead opting to stare unseeing out the window. What would they think if they knew what she’d seen—done? Would any of them care?
The events of the evening were finally sinking in when she trudged toward her building. A warm yellow glow lit up the window of her little two-bedroom condo. The curtains shifted, and then the shadowed outline of her two cats appeared as they perched on the window ledge to greet her.
There. That was her life.
One that didn’t include office sex scandals or orgy-fests in the boardroom. Would that be classified as an orgy? Probably not, given there—Stop!
She stomped up the four flights to her condo, determined to put the night behind her. She wouldn’t think about any of it. Not tonight. Not tomorrow.
Not ever again.
Right.
And what would happen when she saw Carson Haggert at work?
