Caleb took my card with a carefully neutral expression. “I’ll call you when I’m free.”
Suddenly I felt a flush of annoyance that he thought we could do this on his time. “And I’ll let you know if I’m free when you do.”
Rounding the table, he bent down to brace one hand on my chair and the other on the table, trapping me. My heart took off at his nearness. His face was so close I almost felt the bristle of his short beard on my skin. Mirth danced in his eyes. He brushed his lips over mine and straightened, towering over me like a well-dressed conquering Viking. “See you soon.”
I watched him walk away, my whole body electrified with anticipation. In that moment I realized I was sorry to see him go. I was sorry that I had to get back to work and wait for his phone call. Part of me regretted not ditching lunch, but I reminded myself I wasn’t an animal, controlled by my base desires.
Once I left the restaurant, I jumped into a cab to take me back to the office.
All afternoon I cursed Caleb Scott for the distraction he presented. It took me a good hour to really sink into my work and let his proposal drift off into the background. And just when I had put him to the back of my mind, my cell binged.
Unknown number: Room 201. 9 p.m. You’ll need a key card to access the floor. I’ll leave it at reception for you. Caleb.
The Four Seasons was just a walk across the Common from here. Desire rolled through my belly at the thought of meeting him there later that night. I squeezed my eyes closed, overwhelmed by my physical response to him.
Thank goodness I didn’t even like the guy. I could only imagine what danger I’d be in if my emotions were involved on top of such intense physical feelings.
I opened my eyes and looked down at my cell. First I saved his number and then I replied:
Fine.
Happy with my short response, I sat back at my desk and tried to remember what I’d been doing. My cell chimed again before I could.
Caleb: You’ll be more than fine when I’m done with you.
I glowered at my phone, warring between irritation and desire. I’d never met a man so unromantic and blunt, and would never have imagined being turned on by that bluntness. Pretending, however, to be anything else was beneath me and childish. I’d agreed to have this affair with him. That meant he knew I wanted him. Playing the prude to save my pride just made me a different kind of obnoxious.
I should hope so. There are expectations to be met.
His response was almost immediate.
Caleb: Surpassed. There are expectations to be surpassed.
I smiled and felt myself start to really relax for the first moment since our lunch. This interlude with Caleb for a week, perhaps two, depending on how long he was stranded here, would be something to remember on those nights I was alone. I’d remember this as the time I let go of my responsibilities and did something just because I wanted to.
Eleven
There was this light, fresh, floral scent in the air at the Four Seasons. I didn’t know if it was something they spritzed out through an air-filtering system or if it was whatever they polished the marble floors with, but it was so pleasant and calming every time I visited I was often tempted to find one of their beautifully placed pieces of furniture and sit there for hours. Especially at that moment as I strutted through the main entrance door held open for me by a tall, traditionally outfitted doorman. I nodded my thanks, hoping I looked calm, collected, and aloof enough that no one here would suspect the reason that had drawn me to this hotel.
My heels clacked against the black, gold, and white diamond-patterned floor as I strode straight ahead to the reception desk.
A young blonde smiled at me from behind it. “Good evening. Welcome to the Four Seasons.”
“Good evening.” I hoped my smile wasn’t strained or nervous-looking. “My partner left a room key for me. Room 201 for Ava Breevort.” I didn’t care if calling him my partner pissed off Caleb. It could be construed as professional partner or otherwise. I just didn’t want anyone to think badly of me, especially not at the Four Seasons, where I often dined with clients.
“Ah, yes.” The young woman’s eyes lit up. “Mr. Scott did leave a key for you.” She reached under the desk and pulled out a Four Seasons card and card holder. “There you are, Miss Breevort. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, that’s great,” I said, taking the key card and feeling my cheeks start to heat as the reality of what I was about to do sunk in.
“Have a wonderful evening.”
“Thank you. You too.”
I headed toward the elevators, feeling like my heart might explode. My stomach was filled with flutters so wild they seemed to be diving up into my chest and panicking my heart into acceleration. I let out a shaky breath as I got into the elevator, thankfully alone.
If I was feeling so anxious about this, why was I doing it? I stared at the bank of buttons and saw Caleb was right. There was a small panel I needed to flash my room card over to get onto Caleb’s floor. Which meant he was more than likely staying in a suite.
“Maybe I should just go home,” I whispered to myself.
But almost immediately on the back of the thought came the image of Caleb leaning down over me at lunch, his lips whispering near mine, and the sensual promise in his enigmatic eyes.
No, I didn’t like the man.
However, I really, really liked how he made me feel.
Shake it off, Ava, I hissed at myself. You made the decision to have fun for once so don’t back out now.
I swiped the card over the panel and pressed the button for Caleb’s floor.
Once I got off the elevator, the click of my heels now dulled against the thick carpeted floor, I followed the signs for room 201 and sucked in a huge breath when I stood outside it, the flutters from my belly rising right up into my throat.
What was I so nervous about? It wasn’t like I hadn’t done this with him before. Although my inhibitions were slightly lowered by alcohol last time. Dammit, I should have had more than one glass of wine with my dinner to relax me. Instead, I’d gotten home around six thirty, barely able to concentrate on cooking or eating. I’d rushed through it so I could shower, shave, and primp. What I should wear had posed a dilemma, but I went for a simple black shift dress with simple black stilettos, silk hold-ups with a lace band around the thigh, and black lace underwear. Understated sexy.
Ava, you put on sexy lingerie for a man you don’t even like, I chastised myself as I raised my finger to the doorbell of the suite. You’re sure you want to do this? Last chance to turn back.
I wavered.
Then I pressed the doorbell.
Not a second later I heard movement from behind the door and a few seconds after that the door opened. My breath caught at the sight of Caleb Scott standing tall and imposing before me. He stared at me, his expression almost neutral, if it weren’t for those paradoxical eyes of fire and ice blazing at me.
This big, physically and verbally intimidating man, who I imagined never let anyone have a piece of him. What he didn’t realize was that his desire was a big part of him, and he was handing it over to me. He wore a white T-shirt that delineated his amazing physique and a pair of jeans that hung well on his narrow hips. Who knew a simple pair of jeans and a T-shirt could be that goddamn sexy?
“Are you going to invite me in or just stare at me?” I arched an eyebrow.
“Both.” He stepped aside and I hesitated for a moment, which of course he picked up on. “Are you going tae come in or live the rest of your life regretting that you didn’t have one more night with the Bastard Scot?”
I tried to quell my smile but my lips turned up at the corners despite my best efforts. “You remembered my endearment. How sweet.” And with that I lifted one foot in front of the other and walked by him, my elbow brushing his stomach, his delicious scent causing a shiver to ripple down my spine.
I doubted very much the hotel suite was decorated to Caleb Scott’s taste. He
struck me as a black and chrome kind of guy. Not the kind of guy to dig striped pale jade wallpaper, pale gold carpet, dark mahogany furniture, traditional New England essence. We stood in a living room that had a pale gold velvet sofa opposite a mahogany sideboard with a television. There was a matching coffee table between them. At the end of the room was a bay window I knew overlooked the Public Garden, but I couldn’t see the view because Caleb had drawn the curtains. Beside the window was a chair and a desk where he’d put his laptop and papers. To my left were glazed double doors, open to the separate bedroom, where I could see the king-sized bed.
I decided to peer inside the bedroom area out of curiosity, since I’d never been inside a suite here before (not to mention a need for distraction from the Scottish Viking behind me). On the left side of the room was an open doorway leading to the bathroom. From there I could see a long marble sink.
“Nice room,” I said quietly as I felt him step up behind me.
Caleb didn’t reply. Instead I felt his hands slide down over my shoulders to grip the lapels of my light coat. He tugged and I let my shoulders relax and drop so he could remove it.
I turned my head slightly to see him put the coat on the sofa. And then goose bumps flared and sprinkled along my neck and back as his knuckles brushed my nape while he gathered my hair in his hand and moved all of it over one shoulder.
“I guess the talking part of this is over,” I whispered, trying to sound amused instead of breathless and aroused. I failed.
At finding no zipper on the dress, his hands caressed their way down my sides until he found the hem. “You can still talk, Ava.” His voice rumbled behind me as he lifted the dress slowly. “Tell me how slow, fast, hard you want it.”
I shivered, raising my arms above my head as he pulled the dress up and over. There was silence behind me as I lowered my arms, so much so I felt a burst of nerves that caused my knees to shake a little. “I don’t do this,” I whispered, the words out before I could stop them.
“Do what?”
“Casual sex with men I don’t like.” Or casual sex at all.
He grunted. “You’ve already done it. Turn around.”
I did so slowly, hating that I was trembling. Hoping he couldn’t see it. Not wanting to be vulnerable to him in any way. Reluctantly, I raised my eyes to his face and felt that hard tug of need at the way his voracious gaze roamed over me.
“The Scot likes black underwear and hold-ups,” I teased, attempting to relax into this, to bring back our banter and ease instead of this volcanic sexual tension that was much too intense. I slipped off my heels.
Suddenly he took hold of the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it up over his head and off, throwing it to the couch with my dress. God, I didn’t even know men like him existed outside of movies and myths. I couldn’t wait to explore his body again, remembering how much fun I’d had last time doing it.
“Babe, you could walk in here wearing a plastic garbage bag and I’d still want you. Now get on the bed,” he demanded as he unbuttoned the top of his jeans.
“You get on the bed.”
Caleb shook his head as he divested himself of his jeans and underwear. “Why is everything a bloody battle with you?” He looked up from staring at me to glare hungrily into my eyes. “You’re not my type. Your hair, your makeup, your clothes, your attitude. You’re too beautiful and you know it. And yet I’m desperate to have you again.”
I glowered, hating him and hating that my body was still hot and flushed and needy for him even after he’d said that to me. “I hate you.”
His jaw clenched, fire flashed in his eyes, and he growled, “Good.” His mouth crashed down on mine, sweeping me up into a hungry, punishing kiss that I instantly responded to. His strong arms bound around me, crushing my breasts against his naked chest, and I felt the shivery thrill of being pressed against the strength of him.
His hold was almost too tight, but there was something desperate about it that ignited the fire in me, and I slid my arms around his back, my fingers digging into his muscle as the kiss turned almost savage. Our tongues mated, mimicking what our bodies wanted to do, our teeth scraped against lips, biting, possessive, our breaths hot, pants and growls and gasps filling each other’s mouths.
No one kissed me like he did.
No one.
It obliterated the insecurity he’d caused only moments before.
It obliterated everything.
Suddenly he was helping me out of my underwear and then I was on my back, his kisses still deep, still ravaging, as I felt his hard length caress my belly and move down to nudge between my legs. I felt him push inside me and I whimpered against his kiss, my fingernails biting into his skin with need. Caleb groaned into my mouth. “You feel amazing.”
Through the fog of desire, realization of why this felt so incredibly good hit me. “Condom.” I stilled against his movements.
His eyes flew to mine and I saw the astonishment he couldn’t mask. Apparently protection wasn’t something he forgot about that often. His expression turned almost suspicious, accusatory even, and he gritted his teeth as he began to withdraw. The accusation died under a flush of dark pleasure and instead of pulling out he thrust back in, causing lightning bolts of bliss to rush up my spine.
He did it again. A guttural sound of ecstasy puffed against my lips.
I was losing myself in him.
I wanted to let go.
But somewhere in the back of my mind still lived sensible old me. I was on the pill but it wasn’t one hundred percent effective, and I still didn’t have those results he’d promised. “Caleb.” I panted, shaking my head. “Please.”
I heard a hiss of frustration and then his hips stilled against mine. He had his eyes squeezed closed, his jaw locked with tension. Then abruptly he pushed up off me. “Dinnae move an inch.” He growled, disappearing into the living room.
Seconds later he was over me again, laughter bubbling on my lips at how frustrated and harassed he looked. The laughter instantly died as he gripped my right thigh against his outer hip and thrust back inside of me.
It wasn’t the same, but it was still excellent.
Afterward, when both of us were breathless and satisfied, he loosened his hold on me. He dropped to his elbows, his slick, warm forehead resting between my breasts, his hot breath puffing against my stomach. He kissed my belly, softly, almost reverently.
It was sweet and not at all what I expected of him.
It felt nice. Too nice.
So I immediately sought to spoil it. “I guess I should go.”
Caleb tensed. After a few seconds of silence, he lifted his head, but only far enough to bring his mouth to my breasts. He covered them in kisses and swiped teasing licks against my nipples until I felt desire building inside me again. Without thought I lifted my hands to grasp his shoulders and my touch brought his eyes up. They were hard with determination. “I’m not done with you yet.”
And just with those simple words I was back under his sensual spell. “What do you want to do to me?” I whispered.
“What will you let me do tae you?”
My heart skittered because somehow I knew we wouldn’t be done after just one more night. The thought of returning here tomorrow and possibly the day after filled me with a weird mixture of anticipation and trepidation. But the trepidation wasn’t going to stop me.
I was addicted to the pleasure he gave me. “Well … why don’t you try and see?”
Twelve
Try as I might, it was difficult not to daydream at work the next day. My mind kept drifting back to the events of the night before, and it was unlike me not to approach my work with single-minded focus.
Thankfully, I had an appointment with Fred Russo, the talented man who brought to life the designs for my soft furnishings and window dressings. He had a small, talented team that consisted of curtain makers and upholsterers. They did everything from cushion making to curtain making to creating one-of-a-kind duvet covers. There had also
been more than one occasion where I’d been unable to find a sofa or chair I had in mind, so I’d designed it, had one of my master carpenters make it, and Fred upholstered it.
I was there to check up on their work for Patrice’s guesthouse and make some final decisions on the fabric choices for each room in Roxanne’s summer home.
Fred’s shop was fabric heaven, bolts and bolts of expensive, luxurious fabric that often made it difficult for my more involved clients to come to a decision. I was decisive. While designing a room, I knew exactly what kind of fabrics and palettes I wanted to use. Clients like Roxanne, however, who didn’t trust you (and made you wonder why she hired you in the first place), played lovely games of back-and-forth that slowed the project down. And then they complained about how much time it was taking.
I was done waiting. Roxanne’s last okay to fabric choice was now the final decision.
Working with Fred was a wonderful distraction that morning. The entire time I barely thought about the night before, but as soon as I left his shop my mind automatically went there again. After our quick, desperate, but extremely satisfying first round, Caleb and I had taken our time exploring each other. I could still feel his beard scratching and tickling my skin as he discovered every inch of it with his mouth. There were little patches of red skin this morning on the places he’d lingered the longest. But I didn’t mind. I flushed remembering his attentiveness. And he’d let me touch and kiss every inch of him too.
I hadn’t left the hotel room until almost one in the morning, and Caleb had insisted on calling me a cab even though my apartment was walking distance from the hotel.
Despite the chaos of my thoughts, I was so wrung out that I’d fallen asleep as soon as I’d gotten into bed. And this morning when my alarm went off I’d felt surprisingly fresh and awake despite having slept for only four and a half hours. I’d even managed to fit in a run.
But there was something that niggled at me and had been niggling me all morning.
Fight or Flight Page 12
