With one more measured look in my direction, Alistair redirected his gaze to my father. “Are you sure that you don’t want to consider other local companies for a contract of this size?” Alistair questioned. “Why insist upon an American based company when we could easily use Senturian Security or Fosseway?”
Alistair had made his feelings quite clear about the idea of branching out and working with a foreign company. His disdain for the United States, barely hidden beneath the surface. It all went back to his family and his family’s money. He was an elitist and felt that the West was far inferior to anything the U.K. or the rest of Europe could offer. But more importantly, his father Archibald Todwick sat on the Board of both of those security firms and would no doubt receive some kind of kickback for securing the multi-billion dollar contract with Aughton.
Unable to contain my misgivings and outright disdain for “good ole’ boys clubs” I quickly interjected. “Alistair we are well aware of your predilection for both Senturian and Fosseway. But personal feelings aside, we need to think about what is best for Aughton.”
I could see his temper rising. “Angelique, I am not sure what you are referring to, but I assure you I have only Aughton’s best interests at heart.” The tips of his ears turning red at my admonishment. “I am simply conveying a concern that we may be overlooking a more reasonable alternative than a relatively unknown company from the States.”
“And as Chief Legal Counsel for Aughton, I would be remiss in my duty if I overlooked the fact that your family is personally linked to both of those two companies. As much as I would love to support an employee relationship, I must be objective in providing my recommendations.”
Alistair huffed in anger, his mouth dropping open in shock of my open criticism. But, my father placed a hand up halting his response.
My father’s voice rang with authority, “Enough you two.” With a warning look at me he continued, “You both have made your views quite clear. However after careful consideration, I have made my decision to proceed with negotiations with Ingenix. And that is final.”
Realizing the reprimand had been directed at both of us, Alistair quickly backpedaled.
“Of course, Michael. I did not mean to imply that I did not support your decision. Shall we review some of the areas you deem most pertinent.”
Having dashed the squabble, for the remainder of the car ride we focused on ironing out the issues and key areas of the contract where we felt we were most vulnerable. By the time we pulled up to our hotel, everyone had relaxed and felt much more confident about our position going into tomorrow’s negotiations.
Scribbling the last few notes and amendments to the contract, I repacked the documents into my briefcase. Snapping it shut, I turned to my father and said, “I will type up the changes and will have them back to you later this evening; once I get settled into my suite.”
“Won’t you be joining us for dinner,” my father asked. “I made reservations at Mastro’s. It is supposed to be the best in the city.”
Normally, I would love nothing more than to enjoy dinner with my father away from the office. But the idea of having to sit across from Alistair and listen to his constant drivel gave me a headache.
Smiling apologetically, I politely declined. “I’m sorry father, but I feel the jetlag is getting to me more than usual, and I want to make sure that I am sharp for tomorrow. You and Alistair enjoy your meal.”
“Okay, honey. I’ll get us checked in and you can go straight on up to your room.”
Stepping out of the limo first, I was keenly aware of the tension rolling off Alistair in waves when my father exited. Not relishing the thought of being in the limo alone with Alistair, I made for the door. But he was too quick. He shut the door before I could reach it. Holding on to the handle, he turned back to me.
“And just where do you think you’re going lil missy,” he sneered.
“Get out of my way, Alistair!”
Stroking a finger down my face with his other hand, he grabbed a lock of my hair and pulled sharply. I cried out in pain as sharp needles stabbed my scalp. Wrenching my head back so it was mere inches from his he snarled, “Don’t you ever try to embarrass me like that again!” His breathe was hot in my face. “You will do well to remember your place. You may carry his name, but you will never be in charge.”
“Take your hands off me. Now.” I said with as much steel in my voice as I could muster. Truth be told, I was afraid of Alistair. He was becoming increasingly more desperate and volatile. Inside, I feared what he might do.
Thankfully, the door was wrenched from his grasp as the bellhop came to escort us to our rooms. Letting go of my hair, he forced a fake smile, extending his arm, “After you.”
Anxious to put some distance between us, I all but bolted from the car, forcing the bellhop to jog after me. I didn’t relax until I was in the safety of my hotel room and the chain was on the door. I had no doubts, this was going to be a very long trip.
Chapter Three
These security conventions were all the same, I thought to myself as I scanned the intimate gathering of private government contractors, politicians, high-ranking military officials and even a few foreign diplomats. All impeccably dressed and milling about, sipping on expensive champagne and snacking on professionally catered hors d’ouevres of oysters Rockefeller, Beluga caviar and mini salmon croquettes in the posh banquet hall of The Fairmont Hotel.
Tonight was just the standard casual meet and greet; a means to connect with potential clients. However, I was more interested in preparing for my meeting with Aughton Securities tomorrow, but I knew the importance of networking. Especially, since it did not come naturally to me.
Despite being the CEO of a multi-national security firm, and my military background, I still felt like an outsider. I couldn’t relate to these high-profile movers and shakers, nor did I want to. Having served 10 years in the Navy Seals running spec ops in remote jungles, deserts, and desolate mountain ranges of Afghanistan, I much preferred my solitude than to be in a room full of the ‘Who’s Who’ of Washington D.C. making small talk. After having spent the better part of an hour rubbing elbows with them, I was done. I didn’t have the patience to continue to try and make polite conversation with these elitists. I quickly made my exit, loosening my tie as I went.
I gritted my teeth at the sound of my polished wingtips tapping on the travertine floor of the hotel lobby. I couldn’t wait to get out of this monkey suit, but I was in desperate need of a stiff drink. Bypassing the hotel’s main restaurant and bar, I headed down the steps to the Loggia Lounge for a more private atmosphere. The lounge was nearly empty. Still, I bypassed the tables for a seat at the end of the bar.
I caught the eye of a perfectly coiffed blonde, with legs that went on for days, sitting at a high-top near the piano. She was dressed in a skin tight red dress that barely came to her ass and plunged in the front indecently to her navel. Her surgically perky tits, damn near falling out of the dress as she leaned forward to take a seductive pull from the straw of her drink. I knew I could have her dress around her neck and her legs around my waist in a matter of minutes, but my cock didn’t even twitch as I walked past her.
That kind of woman was trouble, only looking for a rich Georgetown sucker to bankroll her lifestyle. While my bank account could certainly accommodate her, I wasn’t interested. I didn’t care for money hungry whores, or plastic women. Personally, I preferred a woman with curves, but right now I just wanted a whiskey.
Ignoring the practiced pout from the blonde, I ordered a drink. “Woodford Reserve, neat and make it a double.”
Ditching the tuxedo jacket, I unbuttoned the cuffs of my tuxedo shirt and rolled up the sleeves. I hated the confines of suits but understood the necessity in this environment. I had to look the part. The bartender set my drink in front of me, and I took a generous swallow, closing my eyes as I enjoyed the familiar burn of the whiskey as it coated my throat.
“Angel’s Envy, one ice cube
, please,” a husky, accented voice to my left said.
I opened my eyes and glanced down out of the corner of my eye. A pair of thick legs clad in dark stockings and black open-toe pumps were perched on a barstool just a few feet away. My eyes were drawn to the hemline of her navy blue skirt as it slid up the smooth expanse of her plush thighs as she crossed her legs.
Turning to face her, I continued my slow perusal of her body, taking in her broad hips, curvy waist, and ample bosom packaged in the perfectly tailored suit. Her full lips, painted a sexy shade of red parted in a mischievous grin to reveal a perfect set of pearly whites.
“Like what you see?”
There it was again, that sexy timber that was the perfect seductive mix of gravel and honey. My cock hardened at the lascivious thoughts running through my head. What would it be like to hear that voice call out my name as I buried my face between those luscious thighs?
“Well, that depends…”
Arching a dark brow over bright green eyes, she traced the rim of her whiskey glass with her index finger, the nail painted the same seductive red as her lips. I could imagine that hand wrapped around my cock; bringing it to those lips. “Depends, on what?” she asked, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Enjoying the game, I stood up and walked over to her; my body pressed against her, letting her feel the hard length of my erection against her hip. Bending down so my mouth was right next to her ear I whispered, “On if you really are…” I was close enough that my breath tickled the tiny hairs at her nape, causing goosebumps to appear on her neck.
I’ll give her credit, she didn’t pull back from my intrusion. Only the pulse jumping at her throat, let me know she was as affected by me as I was her. Turning into me, she brushed her large breasts against my arm. Dark lashes lifted to reveal almond-shaped eyes of creamy jade. Mere inches from each other, I could see tiny flecks of amber in the pools of green.
“If I am really what?” she purred. Her tiny pink tongued darted out to slide across her bottom lip, moistening it as she spoke. I wanted to be that bottom lip, to feel the moist heat of her tongue slide across me.
“If you really are an Angel’s Envy.”
She laughed, her green eyes sparkling with mirth. Not one of those high-pitched placating giggles, that D.C. women typically give, but a rich, throaty laugh from deep in the belly.
“What’s your name sugar?”
“Rafe. Rafe St. James.”
“Well, Rafe St. James, you are about to find out,” she said as she reached into her tiny clutch and laid a plastic card on the bar top. Swiveling off her stool, she walked out of the bar and toward the private bank of elevators without a backward glance. The confidence with which she carried herself was just as mesmerizing as the sway of her hips.
Wasting no time, I threw a $20 on the bar to cover our drinks, palmed the room key card, and tried not to sprint after her.
Chapter Four
I didn’t give myself time to think about what I was doing, I just continued to walk toward the elevators. For once, I wanted to just live in the moment. It wasn’t as though I was celibate, but between finishing law school and working my way up at Aughton, it had left very little time for a personal life. I missed sex. I missed the feel of a man’s hands on my body, the hard length sliding into my warm heat. So when I felt the old familiar tingling of arousal when Rafe was openly admiring me, I didn’t hesitate. I just jumped. I threw down the gauntlet or in this case my elevator key.
It took every ounce of strength not to look back over my shoulder to make sure he was following me. I was a confident woman, but even I had never been so brazen before. But there was something about him.
I had been aware of him as soon as I walked up to the bar. A woman would have to be dead not to notice the raw masculinity that he projected. He was a very striking man in his own right. But, when he had taken off his tux jacket and rolled up his sleeves to reveal taut forearms covered in tattoos and that broad muscular chest, I felt the familiar heat between my thighs. The way he looked at me was almost predatory. I knew he was dangerous, but I didn’t care. It’s not like I was going to ever see him again. I wanted to walk on the wild side, just this once.
He caught up to me just as I reached the elevators. Standing so close, I could feel the warmth of his breath on the nape of my neck. Leaning forward he trailed his hand down my arm to my hand as I reached for the button. My breath caught in my throat as I felt the firm pressure of his erection pressed against my backside. He was large, and he was ready.
Before I could step into the elevator, one hand caught me around the waist pulling me close. “Make no mistake, once you step into that elevator with me, you are mine.” My heart pounded in my chest; in warning or arousal, I couldn’t be sure.
The hand around my waist slid up my shirt and in between the buttons. Pushing aside the black lace of my bra he began to stroke the top of my breast. Not stopping there, he slid his fingers down and pinched the pink bud tightly.
A gasp escaped my lips at the brief shock of pain that was quickly replaced by pleasure. Moist heat escaped the folds of my sex and began to dampen my panties. I arched into his touch, not caring if anyone saw. But he released his hold on me and spun me around to face him. Blue eyes, the color of the ocean, stared back at me. His pupils dilated with lust. The intensity of his gaze sent shivers of awareness down my spine, and I found myself at a loss for words.
Mistaking my hesitation for doubt he whispered, “Say the word, and I will walk away right now.”
Meeting his gaze square on, I replied, “I’ll let you know when I’m done with you.” Reaching forward to run a hand softly down his chest, I gripped the belt of his pants in my fist and tugged him into the elevator with me.
Eyes darkening, he pushed me back against the wall of the elevator. “I’m not a gentleman.” It was more a statement of fact than a warning.
Fighting fire with fire, I responded in kind, “Good. Because I’m no lady.”
He stalked forward, but the doors opened interrupting our foreplay. We had forgotten to press a floor. Rafe turned to glare at the couple about to enter, a predatory look in his eyes. The couple glanced from him to me and back to him uncertainly.
“Ah….we’ll, we’ll catch the next one. Sorry,” the man stammered before backing away hastily.
A nervous giggle bubbled up in my throat. Rafe whipped his head around to me.
“What floor,” he demanded.
“Penthouse. You need the card key,” I answered thickly.
He quickly swiped the card I had given him in the bar and punched the button for the penthouse. Closing the distance quickly, he was on me before the elevator doors closed. His hands tangled in my hair, as his mouth found mine. He tasted of Bourbon and a sweet, tangy hint of caramel.
He wasn’t kidding. He was no gentleman. There was nothing gentle about his plundering of my mouth and body. His tongue battled mine in a war for possession as his hands were everywhere. I gripped his forearms tightly trying to hang onto this wild wide. Not content to just be taken, I nipped at his bottom lip playfully. Letting him know that I wasn’t a passive party in this.
With a low growl, he squeezed my ass roughly in his hands before moving to grab my wrists. Yanking them above my head, he continued his assault with his mouth, teeth, and tongue. His mouth like liquid fire. I wanted to succumb to that heat. Securing both wrists in one hand, his free hand yanked my skirt up around my waist.
He cupped my sex, and I moaned deep in my throat.
“You like this don’t you,” he growled. Too overcome by the sensations as his fingers teased my clit through the fabric, I couldn’t respond.
“Answer me,” he commands.
“Yes,” I answer breathlessly.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I like it.”
“That’s better,” he grins darkly as he continues his assault on my body.
His fingers deftly move my panties to the side, and he wastes no t
ime slamming two fingers deep into my folds. Wet and welcoming they slide right in.
“Fuck,” he groans. “You are so wet.” He mercilessly fingers my pussy, plunging his fingers hard and deep. Something about being in a public elevator where the doors could open at any moment exposing us only intensifies my hunger for him. It releases something feral within me.
I break his hold on my wrists and thrust my hands in his hair. It’s my turn to yank his head back. His eyes on me I lean forward running my tongue along the ridge of his Adam’s apple, up his jawline to his ear. Biting his lobe, I reach my hand down to unzip his pants. Sliding my hand into his boxer briefs, I free his engorged member.
He hisses as my hands grip his cock firmly in my hand as I rake my nails lightly down the shaft, circling the head and back down again.
“Fuck this!” He releases me long enough to slam his hand on the emergency stop button. The elevator jolts to a halt. He advances on me again with a feral gleam in his eyes. I found myself retreating, my ass hitting the handrail at the back of the elevator.
He smirks as he reaches up and in one swift tug, rips my panties clean off my body. Without a barrier between us, he grips my waist and effortlessly hoists me up on the handrail. I am a curvy girl, and my heart skips a beat at the impressive show of strength. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his waist, the head of his erection pressing against my wet folds.
He let out a quiet curse as he enters me fully in one swift plunge. He punishes my body with deep hard thrusts. The sensations overwhelm as he is relentless with this punishing pace. I can feel the first waves of the orgasm build as my muscles clench around him firmly.
“That’s it. Cum for me sweetheart,” he purrs. Reaching between us, his thumb traces small circles around my throbbing clit, making me tremble. With a small little pinch, he sends me over the edge. Wave upon wave of sensations crash over me. I feel my inner walls contract with each pulse of my heart, matching his thrusts. The force of the orgasm must have been too much for him because he buried his face in my neck; his movements more frantic. With a muffled moan his hips jutted one final time, penetrating me deeply as my inner walls milk him of his seed.
His Takeover: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 36
