When Larsen, one of the youngest and brightest staffers at Redwood Mountain Ventures, finished his presentation, I leaned forward in my chair, ready with questions.
“What is your risk analysis? Is it worth it?” I asked, wishing I could apply a simple mathematical formula to understanding Elle and her radio silence, like I did with scrappy little start-ups. But as Larsen shared both the potential of the advertising tech firm under consideration as well as the risk, I was reminded once again that even black-and-white business decisions weren’t rubber-stamped through mathematical equations.
It was math plus intuition. It was analysis plus gut. In business, I had always relied on my razor-sharp instincts. I’d leaned on them too with Elle. But all of a sudden, they’d stopped working. And I had no clue what to do next.
I was still somewhat lost in my own thoughts when the meeting ended and the other team members left, distracted as I headed back to my office. Once there, my assistant rang. “There’s someone here to see you. She has a delivery of flowers.”
31
Elle
The big bouquet of orange lilies and purple asters hid my face. Clutching the blue glass vase tightly, I walked into Colin’s office, nerves bouncing across my skin.
I had no clue if he was pissed at me.
If he even wanted an in-person delivery.
But this was the least I could do.
I’d never been to his office before, and from my place behind the vase, the first thing I noticed was the burgundy carpet, then a soft beige couch and a shiny oak coffee table arranged in front of his desk. Slowly, like in a game of peekaboo, I moved the vase and revealed my face.
Holy shit.
I nearly dropped the flowers.
The view from the window was stunning, but it had nothing on Colin.
He stood, resting casually against the edge of his desk, wearing the hottest two pieces of a three-piece suit. He didn’t have a jacket on—he wore tailored pants, a white shirt, and a vest, and I had to force my lips together so I wouldn’t start panting, drooling, or just gaping at him. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up twice, revealing a hint of the infinity symbol on his forearm.
If ever there were a more perfect image for edgy businessmen than him—Colin, with his dark eyes, sexy scruff, rolled-up sleeves, and that vest that was killing me with hotness—I couldn’t imagine it. Nope. The evidence was in front of me, and I had to have him. I had to somehow cordon off the secrets I couldn’t reveal from the man I couldn’t resist.
Two of me. Plain and simple. Here and now, I declared myself cloned.
I cast my gaze to the bouquet. “They call it a carnival of color,” I said, trying to act normal.
He didn’t move an inch. His arms were crossed. “It is colorful. What do you call it?”
I stepped closer. “A thank you. An in-person thank you for your firm’s amazing generosity in supporting the community center.”
He walked over to me, took the flowers, and set them on the coffee table. His expression was unreadable, but when he neared me, his eyes softened. “You’re welcome,” he said as he sat down on his couch.
My chest tightened with nerves. “It’s also an apology.”
He cocked his head. “For what?”
“For canceling.”
He offered a sliver of a smile, perhaps warming up. “You don’t have to apologize for that.”
“I do though,” I insisted. “Because I didn’t want to cancel.”
“Elle, you don’t have to say you’re sorry. I don’t expect an apology. I don’t expect anything.” He sounded resigned.
And maybe I’d trained him to expect nothing from me because I felt like I had nothing to give.
And while I couldn’t give him the full truth, I could offer him my truth. So I marched to the door and shut it, affording us complete privacy, and returned to him, sitting on the edge of the coffee table in front of him.
“I know you don’t expect anything, but I left you hanging, and that’s not fair, no matter what this is,” I said, gesturing from him to me. “I had a lot of stuff on my mind, and I kind of freaked out, and that’s why I was out of touch.”
“Elle, it’s okay. I get it. I was a little frustrated, but I understand we need to take this slow.” He took a beat. “And we don’t have to be in touch all the time. I understand being busy.”
“I know.” My heart softened more. This man. He was so damn understanding. I didn’t deserve him. But I could give him something. I could make him feel good.
I reached for his right wrist, tracing the infinity symbol, forcing away the thoughts that threatened to touch down in my head—he’d gotten this ink to symbolize the connection between him and his siblings. The four of them. But there were more than four.
I stroked the lines on his wrist. He hissed in a breath as I made contact with his skin. I raised my chin and met his eyes. “You look so beautiful,” I said in a whisper. “So sexy.”
“So do you,” he said, his eyes blazing.
I glanced at my attire—a summery skirt and a sleeveless top. Hardly my hottest outfit. I let go of his wrist and leaned closer to him, dropping my hands to his thighs, so strong and firm under my touch.
I swallowed nervously, then tried even harder to tell the man what he meant to me. “You are so good to me. In every way.”
He leaned closer, sliding a hand along my leg. “It’s easy being good to you.”
“But right now, I’d like to be good to you.”
He arched a curious brow. “How so?”
I moved to the edge of the table. “I want to be good to you with my mouth.”
He groaned. “Elle Mariano, you’re a dirty girl.”
I pulled back, met his gaze, and smiled wickedly. “Yes. I’m feeling good and dirty, so let me suck your cock.”
His breath came out in a rush. “Yes. Yes. And yes.”
“I’ll lock the door.”
“Brilliant idea.”
I laughed and practically vaulted over the chair and table to flip the latch on the door.
Returning to him, I dropped to my knees. Palmed him through his pants. A burst of sparks ignited in my belly as I stroked his erection, loving that he was already rock hard, that all it took was this momentary closeness, the heat of suggestion, and a few words to ratchet him up.
In a flash, I unzipped his pants, pushing them open so I could see his newest ink. My breath caught as I gazed at the phoenix tattoo on his hip. I ran my thumb over it then lowered my lips to flick my tongue across it. I raised my face.
His eyes were blazing. “Take me in your mouth,” he rasped out.
He watched me draw his cock into my mouth, groaning as I did.
“I definitely accept your apology now,” he said with a light laugh then threaded his fingers into my hair, pushing it all over to one side.
Smiling, I flicked my tongue along the hard length of him as I sucked.
“You can cancel on me anytime,” he said.
I grinned even with my mouth full, then my smile vanished as he groaned louder and gripped my hair with both hands. There was no time for smiling or laughing with his cock all the way in my mouth. All I cared about was making him feel good, because he’d only ever made me feel amazing. Beautiful. Craved.
I wanted him to feel the same. I drew him in deep, sucking hard. Friction, lots of friction, and speed, and his groans told me he liked it this way. I loved it too—on my knees, in his office, with the stunning view of Las Vegas splashed behind us.
“Suck me harder,” he urged in a heated whisper, and I couldn’t resist. I loved that he was vocal and direct. That he told me exactly what he liked. I moved faster, cupping his balls in one hand, playing with them as I licked, sucked, and aimed to steal every last breath from his lungs with a blow job that would blow his mind.
“Ah,” he said on a moan. “Like that. Just like that.”
I knew what he meant, so I moved my hands faster across his balls, gently tugging as I showed him
how incredibly much I loved his cock. Heat blasted through me like a rocket. I was so turned on from blowing him. Wetness pooled between my legs, and I ached. My sex pulsed with need. I could practically come like this, and I rocked my pelvis as he fucked my mouth. My hips moved back and forth because I wanted to be riding him so badly. But I wanted this more—all of him between my lips.
“Yeah, that’s perfect. So fucking deep,” he said, as his fingers gripped my skull and he kept my head firmly in place.
Faster and harder, more frenzied than ever, I sucked him, imagining him as king of this town, presiding over partnerships, striking deals and making decisions, but here, for these few moments in his office, I controlled all of this man’s pleasure. With my mouth. With my tongue. With my lips.
With my ravenous appetite for him. With my bottomless desire to touch him, to taste him, to feel him.
Because of him.
Because of all I felt for Colin Sloan.
He groaned louder and rocked up into my mouth. A quick, hard thrust. Then another. He was starting to lose control, going so deep I nearly gagged.
But I didn’t, because I needed his pleasure desperately. Had to give it to him. Had to take him deep.
Had to show him how much he meant to me.
He shuddered, grasped my head as if holding on for life, and grunted. There were no words left to say. Only feelings. Only pleasure. Only release. I swallowed every last drop of him then licked his length up and down before letting go and meeting his eyes.
I stripped away all my fear, all my anxiety, and asked him for one more thing. It was hard, but it was also remarkably easy.
“Can I come over tonight?”
32
Colin
There was only one answer.
Still, I wanted to know something. Pulling her up on my lap, I adjusted her skirt so she straddled me. “You said you kind of freaked out. Why did you freak out?”
She gulped, pushing her hair—slightly messy from my hands—away from her cheek. Then she looked me in the eyes. “Because I like you.”
Oh hell. There it was. My heart hitched a ride on a hot-air balloon, sailing up to the sky. I was hopeless around her. “I like you too,” I said, looping my arms around her and planting a quick kiss on those wickedly talented lips. “Does that scare you?”
“To like you? Or that you like me too?” she asked.
I smiled. “Both.”
She nodded. “Both scare me.”
“Just be honest with me. That’s all we have, Elle,” I said, cupping her cheek, keeping her gaze on me. “That’s all I ask of you. I respect your boundaries and your wishes. All I want is the truth.”
She closed her eyes. Her face looked pained, and she sighed, but when she opened her eyes, she nodded. “So much.”
Yup. I was a goner. But I was also a realist. “It’s the same for me. You are in my heart and my head. But I respect that you don’t know if you can get involved. I respect your fear. I know you need time. So, listen—no strings, no promises, nothing more. But if you cancel, don’t say something came up. Say ‘I have to see my sister,’ or ‘I’m too tired,’ or ‘I need to work late,’ or ‘I don’t want to see you again.’ Or ‘I met a guy with a bigger cock, and—’”
She grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Just go ahead and strike that excuse. Because you know that will never happen.”
I wiggled my eyebrows. “Good. It’s my secret weapon.”
“You can use that weapon against me anytime.”
I gave a quick thrust up, showing I was always armed around her. “Another option would be ‘I’m going to surprise you at your office tomorrow with flowers and the blow job of a lifetime.’”
She cracked up, then her expression shifted, and she gave me a soft smile. “If it was good, it’s because I like you so much.”
Thump. Thump. But I didn’t tell her my heart was jackhammering for her. Instead, I said, “It was great, because I am crazy for you.”
She didn’t say it back, but her smile was genuine and warm. And when she reached for my hand, threading her fingers through mine and squeezing, I was sure that was her way of telling me we were in this together. As much as we could be. She leaned against me, sighing happily, then whispered my name.
Yup. This would do. This would definitely do.
I ran my hands up her back, softly stroking her, savoring the quiet moment as we showed each other that we were becoming more.
The moment ended when she said softly, “Alex told me you gave him some video-game pointers at the center.”
“Yeah. I was there after a tutoring session, and he was playing with Rex and Tyler. Is that okay?”
“Of course. He insisted on getting a new notebook last night to write down his new strategies for the game, courtesy of your advice. Thank you for sharing that little tip with him. Very analytical,” she said, and I nodded.
“Sure. I’m well-versed enough that I have a few tricks. I can share them with him anytime.”
She smiled. “Really?”
“Yeah, let me gather some thoughts, and I’ll send them to you later.”
“You can send them to him directly, if you don’t mind. I’ll text you his number.”
I grinned. Progress. This was a big step forward. “Absolutely.”
She leaned forward and dropped a kiss on my nose. “Thank you,” she said softly. Then, in an even quieter voice, she said, “You are my hero.”
That’s all I want to be.
But aloud I said, “I’m glad I can help.”
“Isn’t there anything I can do for you? Help you find the next Snapchat to fund?” she asked, teasing.
“I’m always on the hunt for the next thing.”
“Or should I just get to work on topping the blow job of a lifetime?” She winked. “Now that you’ve set the bar so high for me.”
“Yes. That. Do that. And you set the bar yourself with this fantastic mouth,” I said, running my fingertip across her lips. “But you know what I also want?” I dipped a hand under her skirt and stroked her damp panties. Ah, there was nothing I loved more than the evidence of her desire.
She moved gently against my hand. “What do you want?”
“I want to taste you tonight,” I growled as I slid a finger inside her underwear, feeling her slick flesh.
She leaned her head back and groaned. “I believe I’d like that more than pickle potato chips.”
33
Elle
Let this day end now. I stared at the clock on my wall, willing it to tick faster.
But the tortoise speed of the second hand was a cruel joke. Colin was all I thought about as I finished up some paperwork about the status of the center’s programs.
I’d be seeing him tonight.
We were connecting on a new level.
We’d navigated a road bump, and that gave me faith that we could handle whatever troubles came next.
At least, that’s what I told myself.
That’s what I wanted—for us to manage the news barreling down on him the way we’d moved through today’s hurdle.
But I knew it wouldn’t likely be the same.
My stomach churned as I thought about Marcus and Colin and the way their lives were on a collision course toward the truth—a truth that would shock one of them, and perhaps unburden the other.
And there was little I could do for Colin on this front, other than wait and hope. And be there for him during any fallout.
So I handled what I could handle.
My work.
My projects.
My phone calls.
And my schedule for tonight.
I called my mom. “Hey, world’s coolest mom.”
I could hear her roll her eyes from across the city, and I deserved an eye roll.
“Hello, daughter who is obviously about to hit me up for a favor.”
“Who, me?” I asked, laughing.
“Yes. You. And if the question is can I get you the Barbie Malibu Dream Ho
use, the answer is no.”
“Just like it was when I was a kid,” I said, adding a pout.
“I was so mean to you.”
I smiled. She was the opposite of mean. “Any chance you can hang out with Alex tonight so I can maybe possibly see a guy?”
“Ooh! Tell me more,” she said. “And then I’ll say yes.”
“I like him, and that’s all you’re getting out of me,” I said, but she already knew the basics, since I’d told her about Colin, and I was glad of that, glad I could confide in her.
“Fine, twist my arm. I’m feeling like a night of arcade games, the Chinese buffet, and a sleepover is perfect for my grandson and me,” she said.
“It does sound perfect,” I said, twirling absently in my chair. “Hey, Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for doing this. For spending time with him.”
“It’s only my favorite thing to do.”
“I know, but I appreciate it. And you. And I love you.”
“And I love you.”
I was lucky, truly lucky, to have a mom like mine. She was here for me, as a mom and a friend.
After I said goodbye, I pushed back from my desk, only to see Marcus rapping on my door. His face was etched with worry, and he fiddled with a leather band on his wrist. “Do you have a second?”
“Of course.”
He stepped into my office, and I shut the door.
“Is this about . . .” I asked, letting my voice trail off in question.
“Yeah. You didn’t tell him, did you?” Marcus asked, terror in his brown eyes. For a brief moment before I answered, I studied his eyes. They were dark brown, like Colin’s. Another secret I had to bear—a small one that was folded into the big one. But still, I now knew they shared a family resemblance. That gnawing in my chest resurfaced, and I tried valiantly to swat it away. I clenched my fists and refocused away from Marcus’s eyes and back to his question.
My Sinful Longing (Sinful Men Book 3) Page 12
