by Lynda Aicher
“Of course,” he said, his expression neutral. “Have you changed your mind?”
Her expression gave away nothing. Standing before him, strong and sure, she displayed a strength that made him want her more. “Yes.” The single word slipped from her lips on a clipped beat.
He slowly stood, slid his hands into his pockets, but stayed where he was. The risk swept in to jack up his adrenaline. Anyone could walk in, but he knew how to play this. Inference and selective wording would gain him what he wanted. And he wanted to show Avery so much. “Are further negotiations needed?”
“A few.”
He glanced behind her. Jean’s desk was still empty. “Such as?”
Her chest rose and fell with her deep breath, but she didn’t fidget. “No one can know who I am.”
“Done.” Names were shared at the participant’s agreement. “What else?”
“Nothing extreme.” Her chin nudged up. “Not—” She clamped her lips tight, flashing a small wince. “I don’t think I want to...actively participate at first.”
At first? The implications behind those two simple words went straight to his dick. Could she really mean that? “So, something close to the original arrangement?”
“Yes.” Relief edged the firm declaration. “Would that be possible?”
“Yes.” He’d make it so.
“Thank you.” She took another deep breath, her knuckles whitening. Her nerves were contained, but they were definitely there. And she was here in spite of them. Her tongue snaked out, a quick flash of pink as it slid over her lip. “So, um...what’s the next step?”
The outer office remained quiet, but he kept his voice low anyway. “I’ll need the results of a recent STI test. It’s a requirement for everyone.” The housekeeping details were annoying yet too important to skip.
Her lip quirked up, a smile hovering. “I ah...” She gave a small shrug. “I got one last week. I can send it to you.”
His brows flicked up before an appreciative smile overtook his surprise. She’d planned ahead. For some damn reason, that made her even more desirable. It also confirmed that she really did want this.
“Are you free tomorrow night?” His instincts told him to act quickly.
“Oh.” She finally glanced away, her gaze going to the view behind him. He was pretty certain she wasn’t actually seeing it. She closed her eyes, opened them. Another wave of determination settled over her when she refocused on him. “Yes.”
He moved around his desk, checking their privacy yet again. He handed her a note pad and pen. “I’ll need a contact number.”
She took the offered items. Her brows lifted in question, but she remained silent. She studied him for a long moment. Her eyes were greener today, the rust of her dress drawing out the softer notes. Another knot of relief untightened in his chest when she finally wrote down her number. It surprised him slightly. He’d never been this invested in a new player.
And he’d never recruited one himself. No, he’d left that to the others.
He’d certainly never brought anyone with him.
He took the items back from her, the patter of victory starting. It could still go very wrong—no, he’d make it work. That was what he did. He figured out what people wanted and gave it to them.
And Avery wanted a show. A long, slow, sensual show that titillated more than displayed.
He ripped off her number, folded it, placed it in his pocket. “I’ll be in touch.” He kept his hand in his pocket to keep from touching her. The flush was high on her cheek, accentuating the bone structure and drawing his eyes to her lips. Full, but not too much with the same pink stain as before. Was that her favorite color? Did she ever change it?
“That’s it?” Her brows rose behind her bangs. “I’m just supposed to wait for your directions?”
“Essentially, yes.” He paused to see if that sent her scrambling. There was no exception to it, even if she did. “You have to trust me, or there’s no point in moving forward.” Which had been one of her issues all along.
The moment stretched. The low hum of the outer office drifted in as a reminder that this wasn’t an office topic.
“All right.” She gave a decisive snap of her head. “I’ll trust you.” A sardonic smile twisted her lips, before she frowned. “But don’t think that trust is blind. Lose it, and it’s gone for good.”
His laughter rumbled up in a low appreciation. “I won’t.” He nodded at Jean as she took a seat at her desk. “You have my word.” He raised his voice then. “Thank you for bringing the information over. I’ll call Gregory if I have any questions.”
Her shoulders snapped back, eyes going wide, but she quickly recovered. “Thank you, Dr. Haggert. I’ll let him know.” She left, pausing to greet his assistant before she moved from his line of sight.
One inhale brought her scent to him, teasing with promises and possibilities. Sex and innocence mixed with a passion he couldn’t wait to expose.
He glanced at the clock, took a quick scan of his calendar. He messaged Trevor through the private Boardroom app he’d developed. Need a coffee?
A reply came back before he could sit. When?
Now. At Marco’s.
I’ll meet you there in ten.
Carson snatched his suit jacket from the back of the chair and slid his private phone into his pocket as he strode from his office. “I’ll be back in thirty,” he told his assistant, not waiting for her acknowledgment. He had arrangements to put into place.
Others contacted him when they wanted his form of guidance during a Boardroom scene. He’d never set one up for himself.
And he still wasn’t. This was for Avery.
The spring warmth hit him when he stepped onto the busy sidewalk. The midday traffic honked its irritation and merged with the construction noise. He dodged slower pedestrians, mostly tourists with large bags and wandering gazes.
Marco’s was a smaller coffee house a few blocks from the Financial District with little signage and zero curb appeal. He absorbed the caffeine hit when he stepped inside, his slow inhale igniting his brain cells by simple anticipation. A glance showed a short line and open tables.
He was sitting at a back table, two cups of coffee waiting when Trevor walked in. His presence got an appreciative glance from the lady by the window and a wave from the barista.
“Haggert,” Trevor greeted him, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he sat. “Is it time for details?”
It took a moment for Carson to follow his question. He frowned. “Not bad ones, no.”
Trevor took a sip of his coffee, an appreciative smile spreading as he sat back. “Teisha took care of me.”
Carson glanced at the barista. Her black dreads were pulled back in a messy knot, her movements decisive as she mastered the expresso machine. She looked up and gave him a cheeky wink. Carson puffed out a laugh, nodding. “She did.” He had no fucking clue what kind of coffee Trevor drank, but Teisha had known.
Trevor sat forward, forearms braced on the table. “What’s up?”
“The issue I’ve been monitoring has shifted,” Carson said without preamble. “She’s in. At least, she wants to try it.”
A slow nod was Trevor’s response. “You’ll manage that, right?”
“Yes.” He couldn’t wait. “I’ll be arranging something for tomorrow night.” He’d place the details and request on the app when they were done here. It usually didn’t take long for people to jump in and a location to be offered. He’d been impressed when he’d discovered how expansive the network was, encompassing people from the entire Bay Area.
Trevor gave away little, his expression often masking his real thoughts. But Carson knew how to read him, and he wasn’t getting the disapproval he’d feared. Trevor only shot him that inquisitive look, a smirk appearing. “I’m thinking I shouldn’t participate.”
“Fuck
, no!” Carson winced. “Not unless you’re masked and voiceless.”
“Shucks,” Trevor mocked, snapping his fingers. “That’s not my thing.”
Carson flipped him off. “Have you figured out who she is?”
“I saw the NDA.”
Of course he knew. Carson had scanned the signed contract into the app before delivering it to Ryan, the Boardroom lawyer. But as the Boardroom founder, Trevor kept a tight hold over every aspect of it. Including the app management, which was Carson’s responsibility. “Thoughts?” he asked.
“Be careful. And don’t fuck up my office.” His tone was joking, but he wasn’t.
“I always am,” Carson said with a cheesy smile. He let it drop, going serious. “I have no intention of fucking up anything.”
“Except her.” Trevor raised that brow. “Am I right?”
Images seared him of Avery bent over a desk, dress rumpled around her waist, each long thrust sinking him deep within her heat. Hell. He shifted, spread his legs wider and shut down the image before he embarrassed himself.
Trevor laughed, and Carson flipped him off again. Ass.
He still had a lot to discuss with Avery, including contact between them, others and exactly how far she wanted to go. Would she welcome his touch, beg for it? Moan beneath his hands, cry out when he played with her clit?
“Keep me informed,” Trevor said, standing. “Thanks for the coffee.” He nodded to the barista as he left, an air of authority following him out the door.
Carson sat back, the tension easing from his shoulders. He checked the time and opened the Boardroom app. He set up a thin profile for Avery, pausing as he considered her username. Very few interacted on the app with their real names, but after so many years in the group, he personally knew a majority of the people he played with.
He considered his own username, which had been Driver for years, and typed in Shotgun for Avery. The reference was loose, but people would catch on soon enough—if she remained in the group.
And that would all depend on the scene he arranged for her tomorrow night.
Chapter Eight
Avery tried to breathe, but her chest was locked down, frozen like her. She was really doing this.
She glanced at Carson, his face shadowed in the dim light of the car. He’d picked her up with a gracious smile, held her door for her, asked if she was warm enough. All manners and politeness, like this was a date.
A normal date.
But could she truly classify it as a date? It wasn’t a hookup in the traditional sense. Should she call it a sex date? In Carson’s sex den? A smile snuck out at that. It died quickly, though. The knot in her chest cinched tighter.
“It’s going to be fine,” Carson said. Her eyes went wide and she openly stared at him now. He shot her a quick smile before returning his focus to the road.
“How do you know?” She didn’t have the positive outlook that he did.
“Do you trust me?” he countered.
Did she? Truly? “For tonight.”
His lips twitched up before he gave her a side-eyed glance. “Just for the night?”
The sexy rumble of his voice sent a wave of desire through her. She’d been a load of anxiety since she’d left his office yesterday. They’d discussed limits and wants on a short phone call, and now she was going through with them. Excitement mixed with fear to set every cell on hyperawareness. “That’s all I promised,” she countered. He didn’t need to have more power over her than that.
His soft laugh was a gentle roll she couldn’t decipher. She clasped her hands in her lap and stared straight ahead. They’d headed south out of the city, and she bit her tongue to keep from asking where they were going. She’d learn soon enough.
The rest of the ride passed in silence, and she wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. The tension prickled over her skin, warning her. Exciting her. She was over-aware of him, attuned to each movement.
He pulled into a parking lot, the name on the building unfamiliar to her. They were in the heart of Silicon Valley amid a sea of modern three-and four-story glass buildings. She logged the company name if only to keep her from thinking about what was ahead.
Carson met her at her door, and she took his offered hand as she got out. A soft gasp left her before she could stop it. His touch was firm, nothing unusual, but she felt it clear to her toes. “Thank you,” she murmured.
That first touch was amazing. She’d thought about it, had wondered how it would feel, his skin on hers. Heat and masculine strength. She looked up at him, still stunned that he was with her. That they were going to watch others have sex.
That she wanted all of it.
Her heels tapped out an echoing announcement as Carson guided her to the building, his hand on her lower back. It seared her through her layers of clothing until she swore the imprint would be branded into her skin. She tried to absorb the strength it gave. He was with her. This was legal. They weren’t doing anything wrong.
Her chest knotted tighter when she noticed a man waiting on the other side of the door. Tall, short brown hair, thin, dressed in a black suit and royal blue tie.
Not one of the guys from the first night.
He let them in with a nod. “The others are already here.”
The others... Of course there were others. That was the entire point, but hearing it...
Carson kept a hand on her back the entire way up the stairs and down a hall. The building contained the standard cubical farm broken up by walls lined with actual offices and meeting rooms. Gray industrial carpeting, wood accents around the door frames. Normal.
“You can use this room,” the man said when he stopped by a small conference room. “Meet us in the boardroom when you’re ready.” He waited for them to enter, then closed the door. The click snapped into her consciousness with a ring of finality.
This was really happening.
“You can leave your purse and coat in here,” Carson said, his voice low.
She nodded but didn’t move.
“Hey.” He stepped in front of her to cut off her blank stare at the table. His silver tie offset his black suit, the white shirt crisp beneath. She blinked, sucked in a breath when he skimmed the back of his fingers up her jaw. Oh... Her eyes closed, head tilting to follow his touch. The soft stroke came across as reassuring and protective. “Only what you want, remember that.”
She nodded, eyes still closed. He’d said she could leave whenever she wanted, no questions asked. His fingers trailed down her neck, tingles flaring. Her stomach clenched, breath trapped.
“Tell me if you want something different,” he said, the words reaching her in a fog.
Different? Now or later?
He cupped the side of her neck and nudged her chin up with his thumb. Her eyes fluttered open, lips parting on a silent gasp. There was no mistaking the heat in his eyes, the want that matched her own. “This night is for you.”
She found that hard to believe. “I would hope it was for everyone involved.” Her voice was weak, the attempt at a joke falling flat.
His lips kicked up in a small smile. “It should be. But my biggest concern is you.” His thumb stroked up and down her jaw, distracting her with the gentleness. He dipped closer, hesitated. He searched her, the blue pushing back the gray in his eyes until it was almost gone. “Your pleasure is my first priority.”
Her breaths shortened, anticipation prickling over her. There was nothing except him. His lips so close. His touch so warm and possessive.
He eased back, and she almost whimpered. He took her purse, set it on the table, then undid the belt on her coat. Her brain finally kicked in and she slid her arms out of her jacket, accepting his help. The cooler air hit her bare arms and exposed neck. A chill swept down but did nothing to stop the internal heat.
His only request had been for her to wear her hair u
p, so she’d accommodated it. She’d almost asked “why?” but had opted to let the mystery stand. Her messy topknot was loose with wisps framing her face that somehow left her feeling even more exposed.
“This is nice,” Carson, dragging a finger over the thin strap of her dress. The simple black sheath was loose yet showed her curves, ending high on her thigh. Held up by spaghetti straps, the deep V-neck plunged low to display the rounded curves of her breasts.
“Thank you.” She’d bought it during her lunch hour today. It was sexier than anything she’d worn in years. It skimmed over her skin in a silky fall of sex and tease. The expense was worth the confidence it gave her even if she never wore it again.
He took her hand. “Ready?”
She stared at their clasped hands, savored the connection that flowed from it. Trust him. She dragged her gaze up his arm until she reached his eyes. “Yes.”
He led her to another room, and a sense of disconnection slipped over her. She was a different person here. Her self-imposed limitations were gone. This could be her one chance to really know—experience—what had only been a fantasy before.
Her pulse raced, heat flushing her skin as a shiver raced beneath. Her hand tightened around Carson’s, but she kept moving.
They slipped into the boardroom without a word. The only light came from the glow of a street lamp through the windows that made up the back wall. She scanned the space, noting the standard long wood table, office chairs and generic landscape pictures.
She forgot all of that in the next second.
There was a couple at the end, where the chairs had been moved away. They were kissing heavily, her dark hair shifting over her back with each dip of her head. She sat on the table, her legs wrapped around the man who stood before her.
Avery’s breath stalled along with her feet. Carson turned back, and she dragged her gaze to his. His brow quirked up.
