by Kathy Noumi
I pushed up my sleeves. “I will sign him, you can count on it.”
An idea popped into my head. Maybe if I called a truce and somehow convinced Jameson to let me have City Net . . . After all that had happened, it was a long shot, but I’d try anything at this point. He didn’t deserve to have a deal I’d worked so long to close. I had to fight. He’d stolen his last client from me.
“Do what you have to do, Ms. Black.” Mr. Pryce’s words rang in my ears as he grabbed his tablet and cell phone off the desk and ushered me out a step ahead of him. While he closed the door behind us, he said, “A boss is never late. Let’s get to this staff meeting.”
Gwen nodded at us. “Remember, it’s been moved to conference room three.”
“Thank you, Gwen.”
“Sure thing, sir.” She grinned from ear to ear with puppy dog eyes, her voice sweeter than sugar. Gwen made a point to glare at me when she added, “Have a great meeting, Mr. Pryce . . . and you too, Melanie.”
I gave her a fake, tight-lipped smile and stalked off after Mr. Pryce. After the meeting I would hole up in my office and devise a scheme to snatch Thompson back.
Let the countdown commence.
Chapter Ten
Jameson
“Jameson, you’re always the last one to leave. You do know your dad owns this company, right?”
“Hardy har har. Yes, I’m well aware.” I shook my head at Chuck. He was the best finance guy on staff, and often pulled late hours right alongside yours truly. “You’re not doing much better. I’m pretty sure there isn’t anyone other than us here. Don’t you have anything better to do?”
He snickered. “Oh yes, so many better things to do. But unfortunately my idiot friend is being blackmailed by his dickhead father, so I’m helping him out. No big deal or anything.”
I cocked a brow. “No big deal, huh?”
“Eh, just one of the many things on my to-do list. What about you? What happened to what’s her name? Ilona?”
“I think you mean Elaina. That was just a friend thing.”
Charles laughed. “You might think you’re Clooney, but think again, my friend.”
“Fuck Clooney. I’m more James Dean. You know, old-school badass.” I winked.
He let out another laugh, this time one that could have been heard down in the lobby despite us being on the thirtieth floor. Charles slapped my shoulder. “Good night, Mr. Dean.”
“You’re funny for someone who is usually pussy-whipped.” I made a thrashing sound at him while he strode down the corridor toward the elevators.
The office fell quiet, nothing audible except the rhythmic punch of my fingers on the keyboard of my MacBook.
I swiveled my chair, faced the large glass windows of my office, and took in the city lights. I closed my eyes for a second. After all-day meetings, the muscles in my back ached. A few more proposal reviews, then I’d pack up for the evening.
My iTunes playlist transported me to an island, far away from everything. The soothing sounds helped me relax until a noise—
Heels?
The noise stopped. I could have sworn I heard someone walking down the hall. Maybe Charles forgot his keys? I popped one eye open and turned around.
Eden! What the fu—
I blinked a couple times. It was her; she stood in my office doorway with pursed lips. Her presence hit me like a fastball, knocking me on my ass. What was she doing here? Her cheeks were slightly flushed, her eyes bluer than the sea. Her V-neck top cupped her full chest, exposing her deep cleavage. Beneath my desk, I tightened my grip around the extra fabric of my pants. Fuck me.
She wore the tightest skirt I had ever seen—so tight, I wasn’t sure how anyone in her office got any work done. This woman was the devil, mocking me and any man who dared cross her path. The air between us crackled. She remained silent. I gazed lower, landing on her long legs, which were hidden by sheer black stockings. Polka-dot nylons never looked so decadent. They had my fingertips prickling. Always a fucking tease.
She blinked, batting her lashes. “Where is everyone? Don’t you people work around here?”
I swallowed the golf ball lodged in my throat. “There’s a company basketball game. Everyone left early. How the hell did you get up here?”
She shifted in her heels, placing a hand at her hip. “Give me City Net back, Winthrop. I don’t know what you said or did to Thompson, but I had the contract in the bag. Why are you so petty?”
I didn’t know whether to chuckle or give her an earful. I loosened my tie, savoring the moment. “He came to me.”
The color drained from Eden’s face. Gulping, she rasped out a word I thought sounded similar to “liar,” but I couldn’t be sure. She swallowed, giving herself a second to regain her composure. “Why in the hell would he come to you?”
Her anger floated between us, more of an aphrodisiac than anything else I could put into words; as her rage escalated, so did the thumping in my chest. She oozed sex appeal, even while her hands were clenched so tight they could juice a lemon.
The deal with Thompson must have meant more to her than I’d thought. Was it necessary for me to make her simmer? No, but I couldn’t control it. Leaning forward in my chair, I eyed her. “He didn’t tell me you were submitting a bid until after he’d asked me for one.”
Her jaw clenched, and she gripped the strap of her purse so tightly that her knuckles turned a ghostly white. “Is that, right?”
“Yes, princess.”
“Well, that’s fucking priceless now, isn’t it?” Eden threw her bag on the floor as she began to pace. “He told me your offer involved less capital. How’d you manage that one? And I know you’re conniving, so why should I believe you about him coming to you, anyway. When have you ever missed an opportunity to undercut me?”
Eden had surpassed livid and progressed into full-on apocalyptic fury. I had successfully rattled her. For a brief minute, it felt exhilarating—I’d only seen her this mad once before.
When I didn’t react, she took a step closer. “Answer me, goddammit,” she said from the center of my office.
“Why did you come here tonight?” I said instead.
Eden scowled at me. “Because I . . .”
“You can believe me or not. It’s not my job to tell you how to pitch a deal or what you did wrong. It’s also none of my concern how you should structure your bid for Thompson. You want to be behind the wheel?”
She shot me an I’m-going-to-strangle-you glower.
“Then don’t get distracted.” I leaned back, drinking her in. “You know better.”
Chapter Eleven
Eden
If Jameson thought I’d come unarmed to a gunfight, he had another thing coming. There wasn’t an inch of me that wasn’t pulsating with wrath.
“Are you willing to sacrifice Uptown Properties in order to keep the City Net deal with Thompson?”
The way his neck vein throbbed was gratifying; it was his turn to transform into a raging Hulk monster. Although he did his best to keep his icy exterior intact, I knew Jameson. He was ready to erupt at any moment.
“You wouldn’t fucking dare!” he barked, banging his fist down on his desk.
I raised a brow, not backing down. “Try me, Winthrop.”
He rose from his chair to round the desk, then stared down at me from a few feet away. Between gritted teeth, he bit out, “Who do you think you’re dealing with?”
Two could play at this game. I stepped closer, not backing down. He towered over me, but I’d be damned if I’d let him make me feel small. Bastard. I poked his shoulder, hard. His muscular bicep bulged. “Drop City Net or lose Uptown. Your choice.”
He scowled at the spot where my finger lingered. “I think you’re full of shit.”
“Mrs. Rodriquez from the Uptown board didn’t seem to think so.”
“Did you sleep with her, too?” Bitterness fortified his words.
Motherfu—How dare he. I don’t need this shit.
“Kiss Up
town goodbye, asshole.” I whirled in the direction of the door, but Jameson caught my wrist.
“We aren’t done,” he commanded in a low snarl.
I yanked my arm from his grasp. “Don’t you fucking dare touch me, Jameson.”
He stiffened. His lips parted, then snapped shut, unsure of what to do or say next. A wave of nausea hit me, and my stomach twisted into knots.
Shaking my head, I said, “You know something? For the past six years I’ve dealt with the backstabbing from your vengeful ass, but it ends now.”
“Eden—”
“No. You will shut your goddamn mouth. If you do not give me City Net, I’m going to take Uptown and then make it my life’s mission to steal every last client of yours. You can bet your ass on it.”
Jameson’s eyes gleamed with a dark and alluring regard, sucking the air from my lungs with one glance. As he snaked his arm around my waist, my mind screamed at me to push him away. Walk out. Anything. But a problem remained—his closeness was my undoing. The way he held me made my body weak.
He slid his hand to the curve of my rear. “You love to tease me, don’t you?” he breathed into my ear. “I can’t help myself when you demand things.”
I sucked in a breath. A shudder traveled down my skin, lighting each nerve ending on fire. I couldn’t think. My mind swirled from one thought to the next. Push him away! What the—Oh good Lord. Control yourself.
I’d loathed this man for five years. He made me irresponsible and unfocused. How could I let him touch me? But God, it felt good. He knew my body like no one else. While my mind said this wasn’t a good idea, my body had other ideas.
His gravelly voice filled the space, “You’re awfully quiet, Miss Black.”
I couldn’t communicate. His fingertips skated over my skin, exploring my body in delicate strokes, gliding up each valley and past every curve. My nipples hardened.
He pressed against me with more force, sliding a hand around to clasp my nape. He was greedy for me, hot to a fault, and painfully wicked. The craving for him took over, and I grabbed him back with equal vigor. Launching onto my tiptoes, I tugged his shirt, hauling him down to me.
Jameson intoxicated my senses more than liquor ever did. The greediness of our kiss belied an ache neither of us knew how to quench. Memories of the first night we were together came rushing back. His touch, his taste, the smell of his skin—sandalwood mixed with citrus—it all consumed me.
I withdrew to catch my breath. “Jameson, what are we—”
He put his fingers to my lips, dragging me with him as he moved toward his desk. In one swift move, he swept its contents to the floor. Pens, papers, his phone—everything—toppled to the ground. Nothing left except the slick, polished wood.
The need to trace his bare skin with my fingers drove me out of my mind. As though he could read my thoughts, he kissed me again, harder this time. When he pulled away, my swollen mouth throbbed, and I prayed for more. Much more.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” he said against my lips.
There was no going back now. As much as I hated how badly I needed Jameson, I still couldn’t deny it. Through my lashes, I glanced up at him in silent consent.
Even so, I gasped when he gripped my hips and spun me to face the desk. Anchoring me with his legs, he bent me at the waist, adjusting his stance so my knees were slightly wider than his.
Grabbing a fistful of my skirt, he jerked it up past my thighs then caressed my legs over the stockings, sending goosebumps prickling all over my skin. When he went to peel the nylons off, I groaned. “Rip them.”
His reflection in the window dazzled me. The way he sank his teeth into his lip and the dark glint in his eyes mirrored my own all-consuming need. I couldn’t take my eyes off this breathtaking man I hated.
He moved his palm farther south, then brushed the pad of his thumb at my opening, rubbing until my lips parted, allowing him to feel my wetness through the slick material.
I wasn’t wearing panties, and he let out a deep growl. He dug his thumb into me and I heard the fabric begin to tear. I stifled a moan. When the hole fit his finger, he slid it deeper.
Oh god! I couldn’t hold back my, “Mmm. Yes.”
He positioned a second finger, expanding the gash until it was the size of a fist. My pussy lips were soaked despite barely being touched. He pressed his length into my thigh, and I exhaled a needy breath. Before I could move, he bent, his mouth skimming ear. “Is this what you want?”
I closed my eyes, my head bobbing up and down in quick little movements. What was he doing to me? Christ!
Jameson sucked my earlobe. “Tell me. Say it. I need to hear it from your defiant mouth.”
“You’re such an asshole.”
I could imagine the smile spreading across his lips in the lingering silence. “That’s not very nice. You know better, princess. Rules are rules.”
When I didn’t reply, he leaned back and pulled something from his pocket. The buckle of his belt clinked as he unfastened it, followed by the sound of a zipper and then a rustling of some kind—a condom wrapper. At least he was being careful.
“Tell me you want me inside you.”
I bit my lip. “Fuck yourself.”
Jameson’s palm stung my ass with a firm slap, sending tingles over the cheek. “There goes that mouth again.”
Every fiber of my being wanted to turn around and smack the shit out of him. What stopped me? The itching need that only grew when he gave commands and took what he wanted. All the things I despised in my daily life, I desired in sex. I could rack my brain from now until eternity for an answer, but there wasn’t one. It was sick and twisted, but I didn’t care.
Jameson held his cock against my slickness. I pushed my butt back, trying to get him inside me. He seized my hips to keep me in place.
“Say it,” he ordered.
He wasn’t going to give me the release I wanted until I said it, and I no longer cared about my pride. I needed him inside me.
“Fuck me, dammit.”
He brushed the crown of his cock over my clit. I trembled to have him so near.
“You’re so responsive.” With those three little words, he dipped the crown into me, easing inside slowly to give me a taste. Then he thrust, filling me from root to tip.
“Ugh,” I grated.
I stared into the glass behind his desk. Jameson glanced up, our eyes locking. I arched my back in an attempt to torment him. He let his head fall back, and then his eyes closed, losing himself in the moment.
Jameson slid his palms up my back to my neck. He forcefully gripped my shoulders, making the angle deeper. I moaned, loud, and he plunged into me, harder this time.
“Please.” I clutched the edge of the desk tighter. “Please.”
He bent toward me, biting into the curve where my shoulder met my neck. “Please, what?”
My voice wasn’t my own. Someone else took my place, and in a low, needy purr I said, “Please . . . sir.”
His dick grew harder, his thrusts quicker, each stab more punishing than the last. My legs trembled, my core clenched, and we took on a new synchronized rhythm. The moans were the only sounds ringing through the empty office. I cried out, “More. I need more. Don’t st—”
A slow stab, and he did just that. He stopped. Pulling out of me gently he turned me to face him. His eyes burned with fire—from passion or anger, I couldn’t tell. When he leaned forward to scrape my cheek with his scruff, I released a breathy, “Ugh. Why’d you stop?”
“You’re not in charge here,” he said, pulling back. “Stop pretending you don’t remember.”
I licked my lips. His cock throbbed, and I extended my hand, taking him into my palm. A low groan came from deep in his throat as I slowly wrapped my fingers around his thickness, tighter with each finger, and began stroking. Jameson latched onto my shoulder with one hand.
“Yes, just li—oh fuck.”
Dropping his head, he seized my nipple in his mouth through my shirt.
The delectable suckling froze me in my tracks. He flicked his tongue over my bud, the peak hardening in response to his carnal exploit. I sighed, forcing my chest farther into his mouth.
Jameson squeezed his big hands around my waist, lifting me off the ground and placing me on the edge of the desk, all while devouring my lips in one quick motion. This time he deepened the kiss, his tongue lazily circling mine. I wrapped my legs around his torso.
A subtle fog formed around me as the tiny voice inside my head pecked away at my last resolve: Surrender to him. With my last nagging thought dispelled, we became hands and tongues, biting and kissing with passion and hatred, all rolled into one. In our frenzied state, all the emotions we’d held at bay exploded into a billion pieces.
I needed Jameson back inside me. Now.
He moved his hand south, adding friction to my swollen sex with his crafty fingers. I ground my hips into his palm.
“God, you’re so wet for me,” he groaned.
“Please,” I mouthed against his lips. Without thinking, I feverishly licked up his neck and over his jaw, nearing his ear. He tensed, so I returned my attention to his neck. “Why won’t you let me kiss your ear, sir?”
He squeezed my tender clit. I bit back a grunt. He locked his eyes on mine. Then, in a don’t-ask-again tone, he barked, “Because you can’t.”
I stopped my trail of pecks, my lips hovering a centimeter over his skin as I stroked his cock. “Tell me why.” I rubbed his length with each syllable.
An eyelash flutter later, I was lying flat on my back. Jameson promptly arranged my legs on either side of his shoulders. I closed my eyelids, squeezing tight, while I braced myself for his stimulating tongue. Gripping the edge of the desk above my head, he blew cool air on my throbbing pussy. I gasped, silently thanking the heavens for his skillful mouth.
