“Not at all,” she whispers. “I think every person wants their parents to be proud of them. I can’t imagine why you’d think yours might not be.”
“Oh, they are. I’m sure they are. They’re just a lot harder to crack than yours. And I’m a lot less pretty, so that probably doesn’t help.”
She doesn’t laugh at my joke, doesn’t even attempt a smile. Instead, her brows pull together. “You’re one of the most talented people I’ve met,” she says softly. “You can pick up anything—a baseball bat or a report from the Stock Market—and do great things with it. Never let something someone else thinks, even if it’s your own parents, make you doubt yourself, Carver.”
Her words shoot straight to my heart and wrap them around a part of me that’s never been touched. I’ve never been quite good enough, quite smart enough, quite the worker my father wanted me to be. Even now, knowing what I’m proposing tomorrow, I haven’t heard from him. I wonder if he even cares or if he thinks that since he’s retired, it’s up to me to make it on my own.
“Thank you, Amity. That means a lot to me.”
“I mean it.” She stands and takes measured steps around the table until she’s standing next to me. She hesitates a split-second before wrapping her arms around my shoulders. She starts to smile. “I’ll be so honored if you’ll be my President.”
She yelps as I lunge into action, sweeping her off her feet. “Carver!” she giggles, her legs dangling over my forearm in a threshold carry.
“I’ve had about enough of you,” I tell her, watching her face come alive.
“This is unbecoming of an underling,” she teases.
“That’s it. We rectify this tonight.”
“How do you figure?”
“We fight it out or fuck it out. Your choice.”
She taps her chin with a manicured fingernail. “You’re bigger than me. Stronger than me. But not meaner than me, so I might have a chance if we fight …”
“You don’t stand a chance either way.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Tell you what,” I counter, considering my words. My chest refuses to fully expand and I have to labor to get enough air. “Let’s make a deal.”
“Deals are for the weak.”
“Deals are for the smart,” I insist.
She sighs, rubbing her breast against my chest. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that we make an agreement. Whichever one of us not chosen tomorrow agrees to work as the President for at least a year. Let’s think about it, Amity. No one wants this company to succeed as much as you and I.”
“True, but I’m not sure our visions will match up. You want an expansion and I want a complete solidification. We might end up fighting each other at every turn.”
“I think we could work something out for the good of us all.”
I force a swallow, hoping like hell she agrees. I can’t stand the thought of her leaving for so many reasons. And as much as I hate to admit it, I don’t want to see her heartbroken and thinking she has no place at our company. Because at the end of the day, regardless of what the Board decides, she’s as invested and as capable as I am.
Her fingers find the nape of my neck and toy with the edges of my hair. “You know what?”
“What’s that?”
“I think I’d rather fuck it out.”
Fifteen
Amity
* * *
He carries me down the hall and lays me on the bed in my room. The light is on in the bathroom, creating a soft, warm glow. He stands at the foot of the bed, looking down at me. There’s something different in his eyes. It’s a subtle, inexplicable gentleness that hits me straight in the chest. It’s not any less intoxicating than when he smiles like a rogue. Just different.
My chest rises and falls as I look up at him. His body blocks most of the light, casting him in a halo of sorts. He is, without a doubt, the sexiest man I’ve ever encountered. But standing in my bedroom, looking at me with what might be best described as reverence, he’s also the most handsome.
The air shifts and I wonder if he’s thinking what I’m thinking. I’m curious if he’s considering that this might be the last time we’re together. Neither of us knows for certain what will happen tomorrow when we walk into the conference room. There’s no way to be sure what direction the Board will want to go or how we’ll feel about the situation if we are on the losing end of the decision. I don’t want to think about it. Not tonight. “Come here,” I say, crooking my finger towards him.
The mattress dips with his weight as he climbs on top of me. Caging me in with both hands, he holds himself a few inches above my face. “You’re beautiful, do you know that?” he asks.
“You’ve told me that before,” she whispers. “But every other time I get a kiss along with it.”
He leans down and presses the sweetest of kisses to my lips. The tenderness leaves my chest tight, my throat almost burning with an emotion I’m too scared to even attempt to name.
My legs curl around his back. I take his hands in my face, holding him in place while I kiss him.
He pulls back with a chuckle. “Will you stop?” he asks.
“Stop what?”
“Stop trying to be in control.”
“I like being in control.”
Instead of a quick retort, his gaze warms. Finally, after a few seconds of watching me play with his hair, he speaks. “Let me show you something tonight.”
“Show me what?” I ask, fighting the lump in my throat caused by his tone.
“Tonight, trust me. Trust me enough to put yourself in my hands and let me show you how I feel.”
“Carver …”
“Just,” he says, placing a kiss on my lips, “tonight.”
With a shaky breath, I open my mouth to tell him no. Instead, I hear the opposite slip into the air. “Okay.”
Before I can recant, he’s slipping my pants down my legs. As I remove my tank and bra, he’s ridding himself of his clothes. In a few short moments, he’s in bed next to me.
His cologne whips across my senses and I hope that when he leaves, I can still smell him on my sheets. It’s a scent I’ve come to love, to associate with feeling an excitement in my day. Being with Carver has turned into something more than enjoyable—and not just for the sex. For the way he makes me laugh. Smile. The way he makes me feel about myself.
It’s the oddest of things to feel about him in particular, the man I hated because of that very same fact. Maybe people do change as they get older, impacted by their experiences and choices. I don’t know. But I’m certain that the man watching me like I’m some kind of goddess is someone I dread losing.
He feathers a fingertip from the curve of my hip all the way up to my shoulder. “What’s your favorite way to be touched?” he asks.
“I’m not sure.”
“Isn’t that something you should know?”
“Maybe,” I say with a laugh. “Do you know your favorite way to be touched?”
“Absolutely.” He draws his fingertip over the top of my chest and to my nipple. Ever-so-lightly, he creates a circle, spiraling out from the center of my breast. I shiver. “I love it when you wrap your arms around my waist and look up at me. I also love it when you’re kissing me and you hold my face in your hands.”
I don’t know what to make of his answer. It’s not at all what I was expecting.
“But,” he says, “if you wanted to grab my cock right about now, I certainly wouldn’t object.”
Grinning, I put a hand on his shoulder and give it a shove. He falls onto his back. As he lands, I climb onto him, straddling his cock.
My bare pussy sits on top of his length, slipping on the wetness as I get situated. His eyes light up, his fingertips now digging almost painfully into my hips.
“That’s it,” I say, grinding my body down on his cock.
“That’s it what?”
“That.” I move again, swiveling my lower half in a slow, torturous
circle. I can feel him parting my slit, the tip of his cock rubbing against my clit. “Damn it, that feels so, so good.”
He must agree because he guides my body, leading it in another circular motion. His fingers sink further into my sides.
“See how you’re holding me?” I close my eyes and focus on the sensations bursting through me.
“Yes.”
“See how you’re controlling me, but when I want to move like this …” I switch gears and move myself counter-clockwise on his body. “When I do that, you go with the flow and help make it feel just as good.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s my favorite way to be touched.” I stop and bend down, hovering my lips over his. “My second way would require you being inside me.”
He captures my mouth with his, flipping me onto my back. “I have good news for you then. Tonight is going to be a night full of your favorites.”
As he slips inside me, he fills me with more than just his size. He fills a part of me with something much greater, much deeper—something I worry that when one of us walks away tomorrow, I’ll never get the chance to feel again.
Sixteen
Carver
* * *
The sun started to break the horizon a little while ago. The rays shine from in between the buildings, lighting up the Manhattan sky like something out of a movie. Amity’s apartment has an incredible view, but that’s more from my angle than hers.
She’s curled up beside me, her head on my chest. Her hair is splayed around the sheets, pillows, my arm.
The quiet of the night and morning has given me time to think. Too much time, perhaps. Lying her in bed, in her home, surrounded by her things, she’s all I can think about. The memories we share, both from recent encounters and days gone by. The things I know about her now and the things I still want to discover. How she can go from straight boss woman to a vulnerable ingénue when she feels safe enough to do it. All the little nuances that make her the most interesting, yet infuriating, female I’ve ever known.
There was no way I was sleeping last night. When I climbed in bed to stay the night, it was just to hold her. There’s been a knot in my gut for hours now, the unknown eating me alive.
If I could fast-forward the day ahead a few hours and see what Salvo and his minions come back with, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I didn’t have an opportunity to really press Amity for answers last night; she evaded the questions I did get in. Maybe she’s as confused as I am about this whole thing. That wouldn’t be a bad thing. It would mean there’s hope for something to happen in some capacity.
She stirs, yawning as she stretches an arm over her head. “I’m so sore,” she groans, opening one eye and looking at me. “And it’s all your fault.”
“That means it’s a job well done.”
“A job well done three times in …” she looks at the clock “five hours?”
“You fell asleep before I could make it four,” I say, kissing her cheek.
We lie there looking at one another, the sun finally lifting just above the skyline. With the official arrival of the morning, the way we look at one another changes.
I brush a lock of hair from her eyes. “Thank you for letting me stay last night.”
“I’m glad you did. And not just for the sex,” she breathes. “It was nice having you beside me last night.”
Her words hit me in the chest, rocking me to the core. I’ve never craved holding a woman like I do Amity, never wanted to grab onto her and not let her go. On its own, that would be odd. But coupled with what we’re about to do today, it’s downright terrifying.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she says. “I wish this wasn’t happening today too.”
“It kind of kills the vibe we had going on, huh?”
“It absolutely does.” She presses a kiss to my sternum. “We may as well get to it. There’s no sense in pretending like it’s not going to happen.”
“Amity?” She looks at me over her shoulder. “Whatever happens today, however that affects us going forward, I’m glad we got to know each other again.”
“Me too.” She looks away before turning and swinging her legs off the side of the bed. “I need to grab a shower before I go into the office.”
“Yeah, I need to run by my place first, too.”
“Can you let yourself out?”
She’s walking across the room already, her body a perfect silhouette against the cityscape. It’s a view I could get used to.
“Yes. I’ll see you in an hour or so,” I say as she disappears into the bathroom and shuts the door.
With a feeling of dread heavy in my gut, I climb out of bed and gather my clothes. I get them sorted and donned and head into the living room. As I bend down to pick my wallet and belt off the coffee table, I bump her laptop. It comes alive with her presentation pulled up.
I shouldn’t, but I do—I look at what she’s prepared. She has charts and graphs showing numbers that will be incredibly hard to deny. I find myself flipping through the pages, my nerves going crazy.
How did I not see this? How did I not realize the heaviness of those figures?
“My Lord,” I mutter, swiping through pages and pages of data. “She’s right.”
I hear the door to the bathroom open. I stand, closing the lid to the computer, and make my way out of her apartment with the sinking feeling that I’m about to lose the only two things I care about in one fell swoop.
Amity
* * *
“Breathe, Am.” Hallie takes my hand and massages a pressure point between my thumb and index finger. “You got this. You’re ready.”
“If they don’t agree, they’re wrong.”
Hallie drops my hand. “If you need anything, call me. I have a backup of your presentation, along with all the hard copies of the data. I can bring it in there in zero-point-five seconds.”
“Thank you for all your help with this,” I tell her. “I think we nailed it.”
“We so did.” She tosses me a wink and heads out, leaving me to get myself together before meeting with the Board. I’m about to walk out when my phone rings. “Hey, Daddy!”
“Good morning.”
“It is. I meet with the Board in ten.” I look up to see Carver standing at the window. His eyes are dark, his lips grim. I motion for him to come in. “What are you doing today?”
Carver walks in as my dad tells me about the island they’re on and the shopping my mom is doing and how he doesn’t know where they’re going to put it all. All the while, I’m watching Carver fidget with a notepad in his hand.
“Are you ready for today?” Dad asks.
“Yeah. I’m ready. I have everything in line—all my t’s crossed and i’s dotted. The numbers are ready and they don’t lie. That’s what you say, isn’t it?”
“It is. Good girl. I’m very proud of you, Amity.”
Feeling a little embarrassed and a bit like a little girl, I turn my back on Carver. “Thank you. That’s nice to hear.”
“Whether the Board gives you the seat or they give it to Carver, I want you to know this: your mother and I are immensely proud of you. You’re fearless, my child. You follow your heart and when you go in, you go all in. That’s the woman we raised, not specifically a CEO.” He chuckles through the line. “Don’t get me wrong. Seeing you take over for your old man would make me a little bit braggy.”
“Like you aren’t already,” I tease.
“You’re destined for great things. Follow your thirst, chase your dreams, Amity Lane. The options are endless.”
“Thanks, Daddy. Have fun today. Give my love to Mother. I’ll call you as soon as I hear the Board’s decision.”
“Good luck, princess.”
“Bye.”
I click the phone off and place it in my middle drawer. Then I look back up. “Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” I shrug. “Like that.”
“Listen
ing to you talk to your father is sweet and odd at the same time. To see him interact with you like that after I’ve worked with him for so long …” He forces a swallow. “I don’t know. I guess it’s also probably because I’m not sure my father even realizes what’s happening today.”
“He probably just doesn’t have service,” I say, making up an excuse. The look on his face kills my heart. “Besides, what does it matter? You’re know what you’re doing. He clearly trusted you enough to put you in place to be CEO. That speaks volumes.”
“I guess.” He reaches for my hand. I put my palm in his without thinking. “If the Board selects your proposal, I want you to know that I stand behind you one hundred percent. I know you’ll do what’s right by this company and, at the end of the day, that’s really what I want.”
His sincerity strikes me hard, catapults me into a frame of mind I don’t want to be in. Focusing on my presentation will be so much easier if I’m not considering that it’s Carver I’m going against. I’m good at blocking that out. Work is work. But work is not just work when I’m looking into those eyes.
I place a hand on his chest. Thinking back about what my father said, I can’t shake a feeling in the pit of my stomach that leaves me on edge. “Promise me something, Carver.”
“What’s that?”
“We didn’t choose to be in this situation. We were both put here by the universe and now we have to deal with it.”
“And it fucking sucks.”
“Whatever happens in there today, let’s agree we won’t let it change how we feel about each other. No matter who wins the position and no matter what the other person decides to do with their life after, whether it’s work here or go somewhere else, we won’t be angry. We’ll continue to be friends.”
Battle of the Sexes Page 8
