Taking Control (Control Series Book 1)

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Taking Control (Control Series Book 1) Page 6

by Danielle Dickson


  I can’t believe he got put in charge of this company instead of his brother after his father retired. A design and marketing genius he is not. He’s merely a pretender in an expensive suit with an entitled attitude.

  I type notes on everything that's said, not bothering to take my eyes off the keyboard until a voice that sends tingles down my spine says, “Not exactly the angle we were going for.”

  I raise my head slowly, meeting the dark-brown gaze of Zander on the other side of the room. What is he doing here?

  His hair is neatly mussed, the expensive black suit he’s wearing fitting him to perfection. His shirt is bordering thin enough you can see the tattoos I know are underneath.

  “What about you?” Zander asks, motioning toward me. “What’s your opinion?”

  I’m lost in his intense stare so I don’t notice everyone else is staring at me too until I break our connection and look around the room.

  “Her? She’s just an assistant.” My boss dismisses Zander’s question with ease. I don't think he recognizes him from the party, or at least he’s not showing he does.

  Zander doesn’t move his gaze from mine as he says, “I want to know what you’re thinking.”

  To anyone else in the room it would seem like a perfectly acceptable thing to say. We’re in a business meeting, of course he’d ask for people’s opinions. But somehow I know his statement has an underlying meaning only he and I are privy to.

  I clear my throat. “I… agree with you. From what’s been said so far, I would be inclined to go for a more simpler marketing strategy.” I take a breath. “For your campaign you need to tone down the fancy designs and go simple. I think—"

  "Miss Moore," my boss grinds out, halting my speech.

  Everyone in the room is silent, Zander running a finger over his lip, his all-consuming expression setting my soul on fire before he looks over at Mr. Benton who simply nods.

  Zander glances back at me. “I want her,” he says with so much conviction, my thighs snap tightly together and I have to refrain from biting my lip and crawling across the table into his lap. “To work on this with us,” he clarifies.

  “M-me?” I stammer out, pointing at my chest.

  Everyone looks as confused as I feel but I can't pull my focus away from him for longer than a second. He finally tears his gaze away from me, leaving me feeling raw.

  My boss clears his throat. “I’m sorry, Mr. Reed, but she’s not a designer.”

  Fuck no! I’ve had enough of this man undermining me and my abilities. “Actually…” I stand and look at everyone around the room. “I graduated from the prestigious Rhode Island School of Design. I came top of my class before moving back home to get a job in my favorite city. I have an online portfolio if you’d like to take a look?”

  I don’t wait for my boss’s approval, typing my website into the browser and pinging it up onto the projector screen they were using for the presentation. I’ve been working freelance since I finished college, building an impressive portfolio if I do say so myself.

  “Everything on here I designed myself.” I pick up the laptop and place it in front of Zander and his team so they can take a closer look at everything.

  Everyone in the room is silent, Zander running a finger over his lip again as he uses the other hand to scroll through my website. “She is more than capable.”

  My boss fumes, turning his gaze on me and gritting out, “If it’s her you want, then I guess we can come to some arrangement. But I can assure you we have much more experienced designers: Leela here being the best.”

  Leela smiles gratefully at him but shoots me a wink, mouthing, “You’ve got this.”

  "What about a trial?” I blurt out, hope blooming in my chest at the chance to show everyone that I can do this. “We can come up with a few mockups and if you don’t like any of them I'll happily bow out and let Leela work her magic.”

  I’m clutching at straws, I can feel the seething anger directed toward me from my boss. His hands clenching and unclenching as he sighs, “If that’s what you want, Mr. Reed.”

  Zander nods firmly. “It’s definitely what I want.”

  “And your partner?”

  “Is away on business but I know he won’t doubt my judgement. We trust each other explicitly.” Zander’s face screws up for a second but it’s gone when he stands, buttoning up his jacket. “What's your name?”

  He’s acting like we don’t know each other which I’m thankful for. “Miss Moore, but please, call me Taylor.”

  “Well, Taylor, grab your coat. I’m taking you to an early brunch meeting.” I freeze, my gaze darting from Zander to my boss. “I have a spare hour and I’d like to get this wrapped up sooner rather than later.” The four people in the room he brought with him, including the man I first greeted, stand. “Mark, can you take the others back to the office, I don’t think I’ll be needing you for this first meeting.”

  Mr. Benton—or Mark as Zander called him—nods and they all file out one by one, Leela squeezing my arm as she walks past. “Congrats, your designs are killer.”

  I shoot her a grateful smile before looking back at the only two people left in the room besides me.

  My boss has a sour expression on his face as he turns to Zander. “Mr. Reed, can I ask to accompany you both?”

  “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  I have to stop myself from laughing at the look on my boss’s face.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Zander glances up with a smirk twisting his lips. “I’m saying no. You clearly don’t like this arrangement and I don’t want any interruptions at the meeting. You won the deal, what does it matter which designer it’s with?”

  “Because Miss Moore is not a designer here.”

  Zander walks over to the door, motioning for me to follow him. “Then you’ve clearly had your head in the sand. You’d be crazy not to fire her as your assistant and re-hire her as a designer.”

  Taylor

  My heart's trying to jump out of my chest and with every movement of his hands and fingers on the steering wheel, it’s like I can feel them on me.

  I want to ask him a million questions, but I start with a basic one. “Did you choose Noble Marketing because of me?”

  “Believe it or not, I didn’t. I’m not the stalker here, Taylor.”

  He winks at me and I melt into the leather of my seat. “You being there today was a coincidence then?”

  “Not a coincidence, no. I’ve had a proposal meeting booked for the last three months, although I wasn’t supposed to be there today.” He lets me mull that over before adding, “As a potential client, I was invited to the New Year’s party.” Well, that makes a lot more sense than him arranging a meeting just to see me.

  The little fizzle of hope in me deflates like an old balloon. I was left behind with Kai and although he’s hot as hell and charming to boot, it’s Zander I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.

  “Me and Kai were supposed to show face for an hour and skip town to fly to England. I wasn’t expecting to be caught up by a firecracker like you,” he states.

  I snort. “A firecracker?”

  He shifts in his seat. “That’s one thing I could call you.” Clearing his throat, the huskiness from his voice dulls. “I'm serious about this job. You want it? It’s yours.”

  “But you've hardly heard what I've got in mind.”

  “No need. I know for a fact we’re in safe hands.”

  I narrow my eyes as he starts to drive down a street I know is only residential. “I thought we were going for brunch?”

  He smirks but doesn’t say anything, parallel-parking outside a townhouse with a black fence around it. He climbs out of the car, opening my door for me and holding out his hand.

  “If we’re going for brunch, what are we doing here?” His eyes smolder as he locks the car, placing a hand on the bottom of my back and gently guiding me toward the house. He opens the gate and lets me walk through first. “Is this your
house?”

  “Do you always ask so many questions?”

  “Only when I think I’m about to be kidnapped,” I retort with a smirk.

  I walk into the entryway of the house when he opens the door, my heels clicking on the hardwood floor.

  The decorative artwork adorning the walls is edgy and I move toward a colorful piece that catches my attention.

  He moves behind me. “I definitely didn’t bring you here to kidnap you. It’s not kidnapping if you came here willingly.”

  I snort out a nervous laugh at his joke. “Well that’s reassuring.” I continue admiring the artwork on the walls until he clears his throat.

  “You like art?”

  “Of course.” I bite my lip as my gaze roams down his body. “I appreciate all works of art.”

  A grunting sound escapes from his throat and I look up, taking in his torn expression—the same one he had on his face before he practically ran out of my apartment yesterday. “Why did you leave?”

  He takes a step back, running his hand through his hair and making it stick out in all directions. “Are you hungry?”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” I reply, following him into a modern kitchen with dark wooden counters while taking off my coat.

  “I’m aware. I chose not to.” He opens the refrigerator, peering inside.

  I place my coat on the kitchen island. “What's your deal?”

  He looks at me, a brow raised. “My deal?”

  Bracing one hand on my hip, I use my other hand to count things off. “You turned up to my workplace, hired me on the spot to design your advertisements even though my job title isn’t a designer. You insisted I was coming to brunch with you but instead brought me back to what I’m guessing is your house. And now you won’t answer a simple question. Call me crazy, Mr. Reed, but I’m assuming you don’t do this with all your designers.” My gaze flits between his eyes. “I don’t want to be treated any differently than you would with designers you've used in the past just because we had one night of sex.”

  He kicks the door to the refrigerator shut, taking two steps toward me and backing me up against the kitchen island. “Is that all it was to you?” I swallow at the look in his eyes. “One night of sex? Is that why you turned up to Kai’s apartment calling my name? Not Kai’s... mine.” The same torn expression from earlier flits across his features. “You’re different, no matter how much I try and fight what I’m feeling. You’re more than one night to me.” He brushes a thumb across my cheek. “Tell me it didn’t mean more to you and I can stop fucking thinking about—”

  I throw my lips against his in a clumsy kiss, effectively cutting him off and giving him the answer he was clearly wanting.

  His fingers tangle in my hair and he gently pulls so my head is tilting upward, giving him access to my neck. “You’re fucking intoxicating… an addiction I can finally immerse myself in.”

  His hands make quick work of my blouse, undoing the buttons and revealing my white lacy bra as I replay what he said in my head. An addiction?

  He groans, running his hands over the lace, pulling it to the side and encasing my nipple in his mouth, working it with his tongue piercing.

  Does this mean he felt the connection I did after we had sex the first time?

  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he commands, grasping the hem of my pencil skirt and pulling it around my hips to reveal matching panties—thank God for D buying me matching underwear.

  He runs his hands over my ass before twirling us around so he’s leaning against the counter now, pressing his hardness into me. “I was thanking D for the lingerie.”

  He pushes me back slightly, admiring it. “Well thank you, D.”

  A quick smack on my ass has me jumping. “Did you just spank me?”

  He grins. “There’s a lot more where that came from.”

  His lips return to mine and I peel off his jacket, fumbling with his tie and shirt buttons as I kick off my heels. Once they’re off, I’m lifted by my ass and shoved against the wall.

  I groan as he nips down my neck. “Tell me you want me,” he growls.

  “I do,” I stutter out.

  “You do what?”

  “I want you, Zander.”

  “Just me?”

  I know what he’s asking, I don’t need to think twice. “Only you.”

  It’s all the go-ahead he needs to turn us and start walking out of the kitchen and up the stairs. He pushes through a door at the end of a hallway and we walk into a masculine bedroom, all dark accents and edgy artwork again. But I don’t have time to take in everything as he throws me down onto the bed with fire in his eyes.

  “Take off your skirt,” he orders, my nipples hardening under his authoritative tone.

  The way he watches me as I undo the zipper and lift my hips up, shimmying out of it makes me feel all kinds of sexy. “It’s your turn,” I say breathily.

  He smirks, and I watch his muscles ripple as he unsheathes his belt, pulling down his slacks and revealing the arousal he’s been keeping at bay.

  He cranes his finger so I crawl across the bed, kneeling in front of him. “I have a feeling you had this planned, Mr. Reed.”

  He growls and brushes my hair out of my face, smoothing a hand down my back and deftly unhooking my bra. Taking one strap and slowly moving it down my arm, he never takes his eyes away from mine. “Not planned, but I was hoping like hell.”

  Placing my lips against his chest, I lick a path to his nipple, circling the silver bar I never noticed before. He groans in approval so I continue on my path, teasing him as I make my way to the other that’s also pierced.

  I slowly caress down his taut, muscled stomach into the dip at the side of his hips, sliding a hand down until I feel the shaft of his cock, not once looking away from his eyes.

  Grasping it firmly, I circle the head with my fingertip, spreading pre-cum around before lifting my finger to my mouth and tasting him.

  “Fuck me,” he growls, pushing me back on the bed and pulling my underwear down my legs.

  Within seconds his tongue is on me, teasing my clit with skilled flicks. I clench my hands around the soft sheets of his bed, my legs twitching every time he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth.

  “Yes,” I moan, looking down and seeing his gaze trained on me.

  He smiles against me, moving his finger to my entrance and sliding it in while still devouring me with his mouth.

  My head slams back against the bed and I move my hips in a rhythm matching his finger, moaning as he slides in another, hitting a spot inside, making me cry out.

  “That’s it, baby.”

  He continues working my clit like a fucking champ and I can’t hold back anymore. I grasp his hair between my fingers and scream my pleasure, calling out his name.

  He pulls back, kissing my thigh as he does. “I could watch you come for me all fucking day long.” He stands, grabbing his cock. “You make me so hard it hurts.”

  I lean up on my elbows. “Then let’s relieve some of your tension.”

  He reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a condom wrapper, biting it open and rolling it onto his erection. Lust, want, and need shine in the depths of his eyes but I don’t get to look into them for long as he spins me around, pulling me back so our hips align.

  8

  Zander

  I’m selfish and I don’t seem to care as I look down at Taylor’s naked body, waiting for me to make her scream my name again.

  I spin her around, her perfect ass sticking up in the air, rubbing my palm over the soft skin, goose bumps prickling the surface at my touch. She jumps as I spank her right cheek, massaging it gently after to soothe the sting as I line up my cock and push into her slowly.

  Fuck me, she’s even better than I remember.

  I rock my hips into her, her answering moans spurring on my movements as the sound of our bodies slapping together echoes around the room.

  Cocking one leg up on the edge of the bed for extra
traction, I piston my hips, her pussy taking everything I’m giving her as she moans her pleasure.

  I run my hand up her spine, wrapping her long hair around my hand and pulling her toward me so her back is against my chest. “I want you to come apart all over my cock, Taylor,” I whisper in her ear, snaking my hand between her legs and circling her clit.

  “Please…” she moans breathily as I continue fucking her with everything I’ve got, my balls tightening with my impending release.

  Growling as her pussy clenches around me, my release is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I feel like I’m fucking floating as spots dot my vision. I place my lips against her neck, groaning in tandem with her.

  I slip out of her and she turns around, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me, riding the last of the high alongside me. I place a hand behind her back as our lips brush softly against one another’s, gently lowering her down so I’m holding myself over her quivering form.

  Every brush of her fingertips over my back sends shivers through me. Out of every high I’ve ever had, this one is my favorite by far.

  After a minute or two—who the hell knows, it could’ve been an hour and I’d never get bored of kissing her—she pulls back, a smirk on her face. “That wasn’t the brunch I was expecting.”

  I cup her cheek, staring into her eyes as I blurt out, “I have bacon if you want it.”

  Her smile widens and I lock that expression into my mind. I burn it into my favorite views folder before adding, “I want to take you out. We’ve done things the wrong way around, but I’d like to change that and take you on at least one date.”

  Her eyes widen for a fraction of a second, so I put a finger over her lips, silencing whatever she was about to say. “You don’t have to give me an answer right this second. Think about it for a little while.” I kiss her and move off the bed. “I’ll be right back.”

  I have to stop myself from pouncing on her as I walk away backward. She looks sexy as fuck lying naked in my bed, waiting for me to come back.

 

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