Hostile Takeover: Modern Girl's Quickie

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Hostile Takeover: Modern Girl's Quickie Page 3

by Gina Drayer

She sighed, closing her eyes, and leaned in for another kiss, and that’s when it hit him; he’d kissed her. Fuck. Walking backward, Mike shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have …”

  Maybe if his mind hadn’t been racing, Mike would’ve watched where he was going. The next moment, his entire body pitched forward. He reached out to brace himself, but it was too late. His head smacked the small side table.

  “Oh my God!” Holly shouted. “Mike, are you okay?”

  He sat up and pain shot through his head. The room spun as he tried to straighten himself. Something wet and warm trickled down his face into his eyes, making the room blurry.

  “Shit! You’re bleeding.”

  He pulled his hand from where it was holding his battered head. Bright red blood coated his palm.

  There was no doubt about it, he’d been right. The night had taken a decidedly large turn for the worse.

  4

  Be Confident

  A woman’s confidence tends to fluctuate more with criticism during a negotiation. Women are often afraid of being turned down. But the old adage applies; go big or go home. Shrug it off that inner voice and carry on. Show the naysayers that they can’t ruin your composure.

  Holly ran to the bathroom and looked around. It wasn’t like they stocked first aid kits in a hotel, so she had to improvise. She grabbed a small hand towel and the plastic bag in the ice bucket. There was still some ice left in their drinks, and that might help. It would have to do.

  “Hold this tight to your head while I get some ice,” she commanded, handing him the towel. With two brothers, this wasn’t her first head wound, and she knew the first thing they needed to do was stop the bleeding. But there was already so much blood. The cut on his head was bleeding a lot, and she knew, if nothing else, he was going to need stitches. “Listen, I’m going to get my purse and then we’re going to take you to the emergency room.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Mike said, pulling the towel off his head. “It hurts, but I don’t think I need a hospital.”

  “I didn’t know they handed out medical degrees at architecture school,” she said, falling back on her sarcasm. Stupid, stubborn men. Why did they all have to act so macho? She pressed his hand back to the cut and shot him a look. “Hold it tight, so the bleeding will slow down. A real doctor needs to see that. You’re going to need stitches at the very least.”

  Holly didn’t waste any time grabbing her purse and car keys. He wobbled when she tried to help him up, taking a knee instead. Now she was worried about a concussion. Instead of helping him to his feet, she got him onto the sofa. “Stay here, and if you feel dizzy, let me know.”

  She called down to the desk to have the valet get her car and then helped him on with his shoes. She did her best to help him downstairs. In the elevator, he removed the towel to check the bleeding. A plump drop of blood fell on the floor.

  “What did I say? Keep your hand on the towel.”

  “Yes, mom,” he teased.

  Holly shook her head. There was no way she was acknowledging the mom comment. She couldn’t help taking charge of the situation. It was what she did when things went bad, and this was no different. But when she thought about spending the night with him, a trip to the ER wasn’t on her fantasy list.

  It was a relief to see the local ER wasn’t packed. It was a Monday evening, so the weekend chaos that had probably filled the place was gone. As soon as they saw Mike had a bleeding head wound, they ushered him to the back fairly quickly.

  “Would you like your girlfriend to come back with you?” the nurse asked.

  Holly tried to protest, but Mike spoke up.

  “Yes.” Even with the compress still on his head, she caught the grin on his face. “I definitely want my girlfriend with me.”

  “Then you can come back with us, ma’am,” the nurse said.

  Holly was too flabbergasted to argue. She planned on staying anyways; just out in the waiting area until they were done. She thought about correcting the nurse but didn’t see the point. She followed them to the back, shaking her head.

  Once they got in the room, the nurse removed the towel and replaced it with gauze. “How did you hurt yourself?”

  “I was kissing this pretty girl. And you know how they say when you find the right one, the ground moves,” Mike said and shot her a wink. “Well, when I stepped back, everything went sideways.”

  The nurse sighed, not at all amused, so Holly filled in the details. “He tripped over his shoes and hit the coffee table.”

  “Any nausea or dizziness?” the nurse asked.

  “Only when she looks at me,” he said.

  Holly shot him a deadly look. “He was dizzy when I tried to help him up.”

  “And before the fall?” she asked, concerned.

  “No, I was just clumsy and ruined our evening,” he said.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Holly said. “I shouldn’t have told you to take off your shoes. I mean really, who does that? If you had them on, you wouldn’t have tripped.”

  Guilt rocked through her. He wouldn’t be there if weren’t for her. This was why it was never a good idea to mix business with pleasure; too many ways thing could go horribly wrong. He might sue her, the company.

  He might never kiss her like that again.

  “It’s not your fault. If there’s anyone to blame, it’s me. I’m the one who wasn’t watching where I was going.”

  She wondered if she could get him to put that in writing, but then he reached out, smoothing a hand down her arm. It was far too intimate a gesture—the kind a lover would use to soothe and comfort. And just like that, the ache of loneliness was back.

  “This will slow the bleeding for now,” the nurse said, interrupting their moment. “Could you hold that to your head for me?” The nurse took his temperature and blood pressure before continuing. “Your pressure is a little high, but that’s normal for a trauma like this.”

  “Is he going to be okay?” Holly asked.

  “It’s a nasty cut,” the nurse said. “He’ll need some stitches, but the dizziness is of more concern. We’ll run some tests to check for a concussion. The doctor will be with you shortly to go over all that,” the nurse said, closing the curtain and walking out of the room.

  “Mike, I’m so sorry,” Holly said.

  “Don’t apologize,” he said, lifting her hand to his lips. He pressed soft kisses on the inside of her wrist, making her heart flutter. “Like I said, this was all me.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  The doctor walked in before she could finish. “Mr. Brighton?” he asked, looking at a chart.

  “That’s me,” Mike said.

  “I’m Dr. Sutton. I see you hit your head.” He took out a penlight and looked into Mike’s eyes. “No nauseous or dizzy now?”

  “No, but this cut hurts like hell. Other than that, I feel fine.”

  “Good, but I still want to run a few tests to make sure you there’s nothing else going on. Head wounds can sneak up on you.”

  Holly’s heart rate picked up for another reason. God, she hoped there wasn’t anything else wrong. She already felt bad.

  Sensing her agitation, Mike squeezed her hand. Damn him. He was supposed to be mad at her, or at the very least irritated. That she was used to. But this soft, persistent kindness was unsettling. She felt out of control and wasn’t sure how to get the upper hand back. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to anymore.

  5

  Don’t limit yourself.

  Successful women realize early on that almost everything is negotiable. Be prepared to compromise. Have an ideal goal, but also think about what you're willing to give up to get there. The main thing here is not to shortchange yourself. Keep your goal in mind when compromising.

  They sat in awkward silence for a couple of hours before they released him from the ER. The doctor had given him the all clear, saying there were no signs of brain injury or a concussion.

  Holly had never been more relieved in her lif
e. Now, she just needed to get him home. Mike’s car was still at her hotel, but there was no way she was going to let him drive. She offered to take him home and was relieved that he didn’t fight her—even though it was an argument she would have easily won.

  “How do you feel?” she asked him on the drive to his place.

  “My head is throbbing, but I think I’ll live.”

  “I’m glad,” she said with a sigh. “You need to get some rest. We could reschedule our meeting?”

  Part of Holly’s success in business was being able to weigh and measure outcomes, both positive and negative. Some of her colleagues swore she had psychic powers. But it was really just simple logic—looking at the fact in black and white and ignoring all the extra noise, but things with Mike had moved into shades of gray.

  So while her gesture might have seemed selfless, she needed the extra time to regroup.

  “I’m fine,” Mike insisted. “Even the doctor said I’m okay, so stop worrying.”

  She wished it were that easy to shut her brain down, but it wasn’t.

  Mike’s house was down a quiet, sparsely populated area of Cleveland. The small brick cottage had a few steps out front, so despite his protest, she helped him inside. The last thing she wanted was for him to get a dizzy spell and fall down the steps, sending them right back to the hospital.

  He walked in on his own, but she still stood close by in case he needed the support. The inside of his house wasn’t what she expected from a bachelor pad. It was more pulled together than the kind of place most single men lived in. Everything fit and flowed as if it was all meant to go inside of his house. From the furniture to the pictures on the walls of animals and nature scenes, it all came together to paint an interesting picture of Mike. She actually enjoyed seeing what he came home to every night. It was like discovering a new part of him.

  “Nice place,” she said, fingering the leaf of a bamboo stalk.

  “Thanks,” he said. “I always found it’s important to have a place to come home to that speaks to your soul.”

  She looked around the uncluttered room. It was simple, but inviting; from the warm wood, overflowing bookshelves, to picture windows that looked out over the river. She could see Mike, slipping off his shoes and getting comfortable after a long day.

  Her apartment, on the other hand, was just a place to keep her stuff between business trips. Little more than an extension of her office and a storage unit.

  “Would you like something to drink?” he asked, bringing her back to the moment.

  “Sure,” she said and joined him in the kitchen. “I’ll take whatever you’re having.”

  “Beer it is then,” He said and pulled two bottles out of the refrigerator.

  “You sure you should be drinking beer?”

  “It’s not like I’m downing Wild Turkey. It’s just a beer, and I promise I won’t be operating any heavy machinery.”

  She took a beer from his hand, some brand she’d never heard of, and leaned back against the counter.

  “Well, I feel safer already,” she said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. She took a sip. “So what’s up with all the animal and nature pictures on the walls?”

  “It relaxes me in a way to have the place surrounded in nature.”

  “Don’t tell me. You’re the type who likes to hike and climb mountains because they’re there.”

  “Sometimes. But I like my creature comforts way too much to be a true outdoorsman. I appreciate natural design. Humans think they have the market on art and beauty, but I think nature has us beat hands down.” He walked over to a woodland scene. “This is my favorite.”

  Hanging over the sofa was a photo of an abandoned house. The structure stood in the middle of a crop of tall, straight pine trees. Two of the walls had caved in, and lush green vines of some kind had reclaimed the structure. The contrast of colors—the red brick, the almost black tree trunks, the green of the leaves, the rusty pine needle blanketing the ground—caught the eye.

  “Why that one?” she asked.

  “I think it speaks to the frailty of our existence. That something so strong and solid as a brick house is no match for nature.”

  “That’s a cheery thought,” she said, jokingly.

  “I don’t know? It reminds me that my time here is limited and it’s up to me to make the most of it.”

  He looked at the photo once more and then turned, his dark blue eyes filled with something she couldn’t identify. Or maybe she could. That feel of longing built up inside of her. The need that had been pulling at her subconscious came rushing back like a freight train. She instinctively bit her lip, trying hard not to lean in and kiss him.

  Big mistake. Because when his eyes lowered to her lips with an almost feral hunger, Holly took a step forward, closing the distance between them.

  She couldn’t help herself. She reached out, running her thumb along his jawline. He didn’t move away, just watched and waited. When she finally leaned in for a kiss and his lips melded to hers, something moved between them. The business deal was still there, hanging over both of them, but in that moment, it was just the two of them; man and woman.

  She could taste the hops from the beer on his lips, but there was also longing and need. Her lips parted to taste more, and he eagerly accepted the invitation. His hand reached up to cup the back of her neck, pulling her in closer, taking control. And she let him devour her as his other arms wrapped around her waist.

  This was wrong. Wasn’t it?

  He broke contact and trailed kisses along her jaw and down her neck.

  “We shouldn’t be doing this,” she gasped, even as she tilted her head to accommodate him. His mouth on her neck was rubbing her in all the right ways. Need had her clenching her thighs together.

  “Probably not,” he said, but he didn’t stop exploring her.

  “We need to maintain a professional relationship.”

  “I agree,” he said.

  Neither one of them made an attempt to pull away.

  “Mike?” She should stop this before it went any farther. This was going to be a bad mistake, but it didn’t feel bad at all. He kissed his way back up, and he nibbled on the spot just behind her ear. Fuck. “Mike, don’t stop.”

  She brought his mouth back to hers and kissed him hard and deep. Consequences didn’t matter in that moment. All she cared about was his lips on her bare skin.

  Mike pulled back and took the beer from her hand, setting it on the coffee table. She’d forgotten she’d been holding it. Hell, she’d forgotten to breathe.

  He took her hand and led her to his bedroom. This was her chance to stop it before it went any farther. She knew if she said no that would be the end of it, but she couldn’t. Not when he pulled her close, and she felt every hard plane of his body.

  She didn’t resist as he lifted her shirt above her head and brought his hands up to cup her breasts.

  “So gorgeous,” he said, and he took her mouth again. His thumb played with her covered nipples until they were hardened peaks, straining against the lace material.

  She needed his shirt off too. She wanted to feel his skin. Tugging at the shirt to get his attention, Mike barely stepped back enough for her to undo a few buttons and lift it over his head. The hardness she’d only felt through his shirt was realized before her. And oh, boy, had she been right. Ridges of muscles filled his chest and stomach. She grazed her hand across the plains, enjoying the feel under her fingers. Moving lower, she cupped his firm erection through his pants. Evidently, God had gifted him with more than just perfect abs. His hardness filled her hand, and she wanted to stroke the silken steel.

  In for a penny and all. She moved up and popped the button, but before she reached her prize, he stopped her.

  “In a minute,” he said a little short of breath. “I’ve fantasized about this moment, I want to savor it.”

  His nimble fingers got busy and unhooked her bra. The garment fell to the floor, leaving nothing between them but
air. Which he remedied quickly. Mike pulled her forward by the waistband of her pants and wrapped a strong arm around her waist. This time his skin brushed against hers, sending erotic trembles through her body.

  As her nipples grazed his chest, she bit back a moan. The friction was almost painful on the sensitive tissue. Their lips and tongue parried in an erotic tango, give and take, each one fighting for dominance. They stayed like that for what seemed like hours, or maybe it was mere seconds. But just as her nerves were ready to explode, he slid hands down and unbuttoned her jeans, taking them down along with her panties in one smooth motion.

  “Damn,” he said, raking his eyes over her body. “The reality is so much better than my imagination.”

  She laughed as she stepped out of her pants, kicking them to the side. “I can say the same about you. Or at least I could if you’d let me get those pants off you.”

  “Impatient minx,” he said, his lips twitching with a smile. But the desire in his eyes left her a little weak, so she didn’t protest when he scooped her up and carried her to the bed.

  After smacking her ass, he tossed her onto the bed and removed his pants. She finally got a good look at that cock, standing at attention, right before he crawled onto the bed. He was bigger than she thought, and she could already imagine the feel of him inside of her, filling her.

  He kissed his way up the inside of her calf, her knee, the delicate skin of her inner thighs. His hot kisses sent a shockwave of sensation that cascaded along her skin and straight to her center. When he licked the crease of her leg, biting the hip bone, she cried out.

  Mike hovered above her pussy, staring up at her as if asking for permission. This was the line. Once they crossed it, there was no going back. But there wasn’t really any choice at this point. His hungry gaze did her in completely. He’d gone from sexy to primal in a split second, and she liked the way he took all of her in.

  “Don’t you dare stop now.” The words slipped out of her lips as she rocked her hip off the bed in invitation. Her need won out over common sense.

 

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