Made In America

by Jamie Deschain

  I stand, staring at this mad display. His laptop is open in front of him and Grant’s tapping the keys with purpose, mumbling along to the music filling his ears as he works. It’s uncanny seeing him like this. I mean, I knew he worked hard, but this? This is true, unadulterated passion, and when he looks up to see me watching him, his eyes flood with delightful recognition, and it’s all I can do to keep from ripping his clothes off because just the simple act of watching him work has turned me on so fucking much.

  “Hey,” he says, jumping to his feet, completely forgetting about the iPod. The earbuds tug at him and the device swings aimlessly around his thighs before he scrambles to remove them, spinning around to untangle himself from the cord. “Hey,” Grant repeats, dashing over to grab one of the coffees. “You read my mind.”

  Staring wide-eyed at him, I don’t know what to say when he pecks me on the cheek and stands broad chested, taking some serious caffeine into his system with a few, long gulps.

  “Ah, just what the doctor ordered.”

  “Have you been here all night?” I ask.

  He looks at his watch. “A little over 29 hours, actually.”

  “Jesus, Grant,” I step past him and place the tray on a chair, snatching my coffee from it. “What’s going on? And why is no one else here?”

  “I sent them all home. I can do that since, you know, I’m the boss. Everyone’s working remotely today.”

  “Everyone except you.”

  He nods. “I need the space. No distractions. I want you to clear whatever’s on my calendar until Thursday. No calls. No meetings. Nothing.”

  I sip my coffee, eyebrows raised over the cup as I wait for an explanation. Instead, he sighs and takes a look around his disheveled office.

  “We have a lot of work to do.”

  I step over a stack of folders and clutch his arm. My touch sends awareness through him, waking him from his work coma to really look at me for the first time since I came in. “Hey,” I whisper. “What’s going on?”

  He lets out an exhausted sigh and runs his fingers through his hair. “McCreedy moved his meeting up to Wednesday.”

  “McCreedy? Isn’t that the account you and Alan were hoping to land?”

  “Yeah, only now it’s just me and you.”

  I cock my head to one side, furrowing my brow. There’s a twinge of sorrow displayed on his face. “What do you mean?”

  “Alan resigned.”

  A quick breath escapes me. I know there’s still a lot of work to be done to nail McCreedy down, but the thought of never having to run into Alan Danziger again floods my system with so much relief it’s damn near palpable.

  Grant takes notice, grinning. “I thought you’d like that.”

  I clear my throat. I shouldn’t be taking pleasure from what is obviously an extremely stressful situation for him, but I can’t help it.

  “He wanted me to make a choice, Raven, and I made it.”

  Grant steps around me and goes across the room to lean his ass against the desk, knocking over a stack of papers. He ignores the blunder, staring at me instead. Staring into me.

  “That phone call I got yesterday morning? That was about him. He was at my condo, waiting for me. McCreedy called him on Saturday night while I was at your little shindig. Said he wanted to move the meeting up. Alan wanted to come back to work so we could be prepared, but I knew that would put you and us in an awkward position.”

  Us. His phrasing isn’t lost on me, and it’s not lost on him, either.

  “Us,” he repeats with a smirk and a shake of his head. “I can’t even believe I’m saying that. It’s crazy, but in the short time I’ve known you, you’ve come to mean more to me than Alan ever has, Raven. It was an easy decision, really. So Alan tendered his resignation and from there I—”

  “Shut the fuck up,” I whisper, dropping my coffee and crossing the room with quickening strides.

  Stunned, Grant says nothing as I wrap my hand around and grip the nape of his neck, drawing him into me. Our lips connect, only there’s nothing sweet about our kiss this time. It’s fueled by the desire that’s been building deep within my core since I met this man.

  Drawing breath, Grant’s own desires come to the forefront. His arms wrap around me, pulling me closer to him, and he soon takes over as my body buzzes while pressed against his. His mouth, his tongue, all of it glides over mine while I whimper and tremble beneath his touch, running fingers through his hair that so desperately need to grasp on to something before I collapse to the ground.

  “I want you,” he moans, sliding his hands down to my ass. He squeezes tight and my nipples become two rock solid nubs. I can feel his hardness pressed against my stomach. Feel just how much his words mean as he presses me closer still, rolling his hips to try and relieve the pressure. “I want all of you, Raven. I want to taste you, I want to fuck you, I want to make you come.”

  “Grant,” I gasp, eagerly tasting him. Sucking on his tongue. “Grant,” I moan again as he squeezes me harder. “We can’t.”

  “Please,” he begs, his hands continuing to explore my body. Sliding around and up, cupping my breasts. His lips glide down the shell of my ear, over my lobe and to my neck. Every part of me wants to keep going. My pussy’s on fire for him and his filthy mouth, begging to be touched and licked.

  But not like this, and not now.

  “No,” I whisper, managing to move him an inch. I place my hands on his solid chest and push, leaning him back against his desk. Looking into his eyes, I can see the passion in them—the hunger—and I want nothing more than to get to my knees and please him, but it would be too much, too soon. “We can’t,” I repeat.

  He lets out a desperate sigh and nods. His fingers find my hair, tucking stray strands back behind my ear as he smiles and says, “Alan should have resigned a week ago, huh?”

  I laugh into Grant’s Adam’s apple and breathe in his manly scent. “You have no idea,” I giggle seductively.

  He rests his chin on my head and caresses my shoulders in a tender display of affection. A display that tells me he knows how to be intimate at just the right moments, though deep inside I know he’s a caged animal waiting to be released.

  And I hold the key.

  “I’m not very good at this,” he says.

  “I think you’re doing just fine,” I smile, resting my cheek against him.

  He holds me half an arms-length away, looking again in to my eyes.

  “I’m serious, Raven. Whatever this is between us, I’m not good at it. I haven’t been for a long time.”

  I shrug. “Are any of us?”

  “I’m going to screw up.”

  His honesty is shockingly brutal. I don’t know what to do with it. The guys I’ve been with, old boyfriends and such, we’ve always just gone with the flow until things fell apart. Grant seems to want something more. Some direction. A road map to follow when there’s nothing but unpaved ground beneath our feet.

  “It’s okay,” I tell him, cupping his cheek. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “Did you see the news? They’ve got pictures of us—of you—coming out of that bar.”

  “If that’s the most compromising position they ever find us in, I’ll be surprised.”

  “That doesn’t bother you?”

  “It did, but it’s a part of who you are, right?”

  “And you’re willing to accept that?”

  His eyes betray a glimmer of surprise. “Look,” I say, “I don’t know what this is either, but for now, let’s just worry about what you have to do to get McCreedy, and go from there. We can worry about it all on Thursday, after you’ve landed the account.”

  Grant’s smile is warm, if not a little perplexed. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

  I tap him on the chest. “And don’t you forget it. Now c’mon, I got a calendar to clear and then it’s back to work for you. We don’t need Alan. You don’t need Alan, okay? We’re going to do this, together. Just tell me what you need and I’ll
do it.”

  He looks down at his cock, and though the bulge in his pants isn’t nearly as pronounced as when he had his hands all over me, it’s not difficult to tell that he’s still stiff. “Careful what you say,” he smirks.

  I roll my eyes and gather the strength to tear myself away from his heated gaze long enough to turn my back and step out of the office, flashing the widest smile I’ve ever had because whatever this is, I’m fucking loving it right now.

  - 15 -

  Grant

  “Tell me about Adam.”

  Raven pauses, her sandwich midway to her mouth. I didn’t even realize how hungry I was for food until she forced me to stop working at 11:45. I was, however, painfully aware of how hungry I’d been for her all morning.

  “Who told you about him?” she asks.

  “Tito.”

  “Bloody tosser. I’m going to have to have a word with him.”

  I laugh, just as amused by her British slang as the first day I met Raven. Probably even more so, since we’ve come so far since then.

  “Don’t be mad. He just mentioned him in passing. Said you guys were together for a year before you caught him cheating on you. Did you love him?”

  “I love everybody,” she says, taking a bite of her sandwich. “When I fall, I fall hard.”

  “So is it safe to say you love me?”

  “Don’t push your luck, Huffman,” she chews.

  “So what happened?”

  She wipes her mouth and chucks the remainder of her panini in a bag. I know she’d rather be eating a Big Mac, and it’s not lost on me that she’s eating something I prefer to try and please me.

  “Met him shortly after I moved here from London. We were at Columbia together. He was charming, dashing—blonde hair, blue eyes—the whole bit. We hooked up, and for a while things were going great.”

  “And then?”

  She sighs, scratching aimlessly at her cheek while frowning. It’s small, a quick jerk of her mouth, but it’s there. “And then they weren’t. He started pulling away, and I should’ve recognized the signs, but I didn’t. Or I did and just didn’t want to believe them. Then one day there he was, balls deep in another woman, confirming everything I’d suspected.”

  Raven stands and snatches up the bag of garbage, visibly bothered still by the memory of what Adam did to her. I don’t blame her.

  “That was my first introduction to American men,” she says, looking me dead in the eye.

  I wave off her statement. Brush it to the side like a piece of lint. “Come on, men are like that all over the world. American, Australian, Russian, German—it doesn’t matter. Show me a woman who has never been cheated on, and I’ll show you a virgin.”

  That coaxes a slight grin from Raven as she gathers up the remainder of our lunch. “Yeah, well. I stupidly thought it’d be different here, you know? America, home of the brave, land of the free. The whole American dream, right? Turns out it’s just as fucked up as every other place in the world.”

  I stand and catch her hand. I’m not a patriot. I’ve never fought in a war. I’ve never felt any great pride in the country I call home. For me it’s always just been the place where I was born. “Hey,” I whisper. “I’m sorry that happened to you, and on behalf of American men everywhere, that Adam guy was a fucking jerk.”

  She warms to my touch, her features softening. She tucks her hair back behind her ear and steps around the desk, leaning against it next to me. My office looks like a tornado’s run through it, yet Raven remains the calm after the storm.

  “But you’re not a fucking jerk, are you?” she asks.

  I shrug. “I have been, and probably will be again”

  She flinches, slightly taken by my honesty.

  “I can’t make promises, Raven. Not now. My life is…complicated, and not just because of my money, or who I am. It’s complicated in here,” I point to my heart. “All I can say is that I’d never hurt you on purpose.”

  “Why?” she asks. “Why is it complicated?”

  I shake my head. “I can’t. Not yet.”

  “But some day?”

  I offer her a lopsided grin that quickly fades. “No promises,” I repeat.

  She considers my words, staring into my eyes as if searching for something. I stare back, hoping to give her what she’s looking for while at the same time becoming intoxicatingly lost in her gaze without even realizing it. Her eyes are beautiful—gorgeous—and I quickly find myself burning with an overwhelming need to kiss her. It’s not sexual, which surprises me, but rather a desire to be connected to Raven as deeply as possible. To be near her, close to her.

  To be one with her.

  She leans forward, feeling my need without a word spoken. Her lips meet mine. Brush up against them tenderly as she pulls me closer to her. My body pulses with recognition, sending a shiver down my spine that travels to my balls, making my cock twitch with anticipation. Our kiss deepens as she drinks me in. Her tongue slips neatly into my mouth and she moans, breathing into me. I press up against her, letting her know what she’s doing to me with just a kiss.

  “That didn’t take long,” she giggles into my mouth.

  I press harder, letting her feel the girth of my erection. “You drive me crazy.”

  “Why?” she asks.

  I shake my head, never allowing my lips to drift from hers. “I don’t know.”

  “Does that scare you?”

  “It terrifies me.”

  I take her back. Kissing her hard and deep while trying desperately to control myself because if I were to have her now, I wouldn’t want to stop. I’d want her again and again and again. On my desk, on the floor, in my chair. I’d spend the rest of the day fucking Raven like she’s never been fucked before, allowing pressing business to fall by the wayside. As much as I’d welcome the distraction, now’s not the time for one.

  I pull to the side, my breathing hot and heavy against the shell of her ear. Raven wraps her arms around me and holds on tight.

  “Just promise me you’ll be good,” she whispers.

  I close my eyes, allowing her words to penetrate the deepest parts of me, and when they reach my heart I can feel it struggle against the weight of all that she’s becoming to me.

  “No promises, Raven. No promises.”

  The next time I concentrate on the time, it’s just past 8 o’clock. The day has been hectic, made bearable only by Raven’s enthusiasm. Together we’ve spent an endless amount of time going back and forth with numbers, projections, charts, and forecasts; peppered throughout with flirtatious touching, gestures, innuendos, and looks. I find myself constantly aware of her presence at every moment. Where she is, how she’s feeling. She’s never lost to me. Even when I’m buried in work, she’s still there. At the back of my mind. Her lips, her perfume, her smile, her breasts. All of her. Threatening to consume me like a roaring fire.

  I drop my pen on the floor and reach my arms above my head, stretching madly with exhaustion.

  “When’s the last time you spent this much time in your office?” she asks, still tapping wildly on my laptop.

  “About five years and never ago. I’ve always been a workaholic but not like this.”

  “This really means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”

  I nod. “You have no idea.”

  “Is it just because of Alan?”

  Her disdain for him is visibly evident by the way she spews his name from her lips.

  “Partially,” I say, dropping my arms back to my side. “It’s just…I want to be the best, you know? At everything. With or without him. McCreedy would go a long way toward adding that extra bit of umph to Huffman Financial.”

  Raven lifts her gaze from the computer. “Do you always have to be the best?” her head cocks inquisitively to the side. Her hair is a tousled mess around her shoulders, made rough by the day’s tasks. Her blouse hangs untucked from her skirt, with the top buttons undone for comfort, and for torture. She sits barefoot, her pumps long removed and resti
ng haphazardly on the floor somewhere.

  Even in a state of disarray she looks sexy.

  “I don’t have to be the best,” I tell her. “I want to be the best.” My eyes travel down the length of her body as she uncoils herself, crossing her feet at the ankles and resting her weight on her palms. Her toes wiggly aimlessly in the air and I imagine for a moment taking them into my mouth and sucking them. Licking them. Teasing every part of her before slowly grazing my way up between her thighs. The thought sends a tremor of wanting desire through me and I shift slightly, causing a knowing smile to cross her lips.

  “You’re an animal,” she says playfully.

  I growl, darkening my eyes to meet hers.

  “Well here, Simba, take a look at these and let me know what you think.” She turns the laptop toward me and I lean over, taking in her projected numbers before feeling a sense of pride.

  “You catch on fast, you know that? You ever think of getting in to finance?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. Never really thought about it, you know? Being cooped up in an office all day. And besides, it’s math, and I hate math.”

  “Yeah, but you’re good at it, Raven. I showed you the basics this morning, and you just ran with it. I mean, with numbers like these McCreedy is going to have a hard time saying no. You’ve taken the bare bones of his portfolio and increased it five-fold. I don’t know of many senior executives that could’ve done that in such a short amount of time, let alone a cocktail waitress.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause us waitresses are oh so clueless, right?”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. I’m serious, you seem to have a natural knack for this sort of stuff. You should think about it more.”