“And I will remain on the board as we discussed?” Vanessa pressed and Diren nodded enthusiastically.
At least until you are overruled by our board members, he thought dryly.
He marvelled at the game which Vanessa was losing handily, pretending to succumb to the terms with quiet dignity.
She wanted to sell the company no matter what the cost. It had always been George withholding.
Vanessa didn’t give a damn what happened to Windchime once her signature hit the contracts, as long as she remained on the board and continued to draw a fat paycheck, Diren was certain.
But with her grandfather losing all grip of his faculties…
Vanessa nodded, and he noticed she cast Ayla a quick look.
Slowly, he turned his head to look at her, trying to read her expression.
“Okay,” Vanessa said, exhaling slowly. “Where do we sign?”
Diren pushed the papers toward her and watched as she placed them before George to scribble his signature.
Vanessa followed suit, handing the pages back to Diren.
He added his name to the contract and gestured for Ayla to witness.
“I’m sorry we keep running out on you,” Vanessa said, rising and suddenly Diren heard a deep sadness in her. “But Grandad isn’t good on outings for very long.”
Even though she is a money hungry leech, she does love that old bastard, he realized.
“I understand completely,” Diren assured her, leading them toward the door. “And remember, if there’s anything I can do to help during this trying time, please do not hesitate to call on me.”
“I appreciate that, Diren.”
He watched as they disappeared toward the elevators, Catrina making a clicking noise with her tongue.
“It’s probably best that they sell,” the receptionist piped up. “With his health being what it is.”
“Why doesn’t she just run Windchime herself?” Ayla asked from behind them. “It’s her grandfather’s company, isn’t it?”
Diren snorted, turning back into the inner office.
“For what we offered them for their two-bit operation, they’d be foolish not to sell,” he replied.
“Why are you offering them so much if they aren’t profitable?” Ayla asked, following him back inside. “Especially for a company that doesn’t suit your audience?”
He laughed aloud and peered at her, wondering if she was joking.
“You aren’t serious, are you?” he demanded, and she continued to stare at him blankly.
“Because, they are a well enough known name, so we won’t need to start a company from scratch. After we get all their left-winged rhetoric off the presses, the company will run itself.”
Ayla froze.
“But you just told her that you wouldn’t do that,” she said, her face growing pale. “That’s the only reason she signed the papers.”
Diren scowled at her.
“Are you kidding me?” he snapped. “This is business, Ayla, not a pinky swear. If they don’t want to sell their company, no one is forcing them to do that but once it is in my hands, it is mine to do with as I choose.”
“But you promised!” she cried again and Diren was shocked at the naked anguish in her face. “That is a company that her grandfather built. The man is dying and I’m sure it’s taken some massive soul searching for her to give it up. If you strip her company, Diren – “
“Stop it!” he bit out, spinning to glare at her. “Take your idealistic, social justice, warrior bullshit somewhere else if you can’t handle the way it works in real life. This is how it’s done, Ayla.”
She gasped as Diren spun to leave the office.
Suddenly the smug feeling of closing the sale was overshadowed by the expression of disgust on Ayla’s face.
She really does think I’m an immoral son-of-a-bitch, doesn’t she? He thought as he forsook the elevator and took the stairs, their earlier conversation going through his mind.
As he jetted down from the twenty-third floor as if trying to escape the accusing look in Ayla’s eyes, he wondered again why he gave a fuck in the first place. It really wasn’t like him to care. And why the fuck couldn’t he stop thinking about her, anyways?
Chapter Nine
He’s an unrepentant asshole, Ayla told herself. He got where he is by stabbing people in the back and clawing his way up the ladder, without regard for anyone else. What the hell do I care if Ryland steals from him? she seethed.
It was almost becoming a song refrain but it really didn’t change anything. No matter how much she wished it did.
She did care and she could not stop her anxiety from mounting.
There was no doubt in Ayla’s mind that her step-brother would follow through on his threat to harm her mother.
Mom is even less important to him than I am. He wouldn’t think twice about harming her just to teach me a lesson.
Still, as they continued to work together, Ayla could not deny that the attraction she felt toward Diren Benning was growing – in spite of how cold and callous he could be towards people.
Perhaps it was the memory of his lips on her the day she had shown up drunk in his office.
Although her moral sense was deeply offended by his business sense, Ayla would be blatantly lying if she said she didn’t purposely try to catch his eye when they worked side by side in the office. Or if she said she didn’t breathe a little deeper when he passed, trying to inhale his scent.
And she would have to be blind not to see him watching her too.
Ayla was torn between following her already fragile value system, and following the heat in her ever-throbbing crotch.
Her mind was fighting a losing battle and she knew it.
But as the days passed, and Diren made no advances, and made no reference to the mind blowing sex they had had, she was beginning to think that, for him at least, it had been nothing special.
I’m just another notch in his belt, Ayla thought sourly. He never had any real interest in me. Not any more than he did Delia or any of the others he has banged in the past.
As she strolled through the twenty-third floor that morning, her heels clicking authoritatively across the polished tile, she had almost given up hopes of seducing her boss.
Just to get the information for Ryland, of course, she tried to tell herself, but then she forced herself to face the truth. I can’t even tell if I want him for me, or to get Ryland off my case. It’s for the best that he keeps his distance, I suppose. Besides, he would never commit to just one woman, she cautioned herself. His reputation precedes him and he seems to make a point of trying to prove to everyone that he doesn’t need anyone. Better to just forget about the mind numbing orgasms he gave me, she decided. Now if she could only get her libido on board with that statement.
Without waiting for permission to enter, she threw open the doors to the inner office and gasped.
Diren stood against one of the wide rectangular windows, his arms crossed over his chest as Ginny from payroll serviced him.
He glanced up at Ayla, but Ginny did not seem to notice her arrival.
“You’re here early,” he commented flippantly and Ayla gaped at him, a wild mixture of emotions flooding her. And the one that shocked her the most was…lust. How can I possibly get turned on by something like this? she asked herself. And why does my clit feel like it just received a double shot of espresso?
Ginny’s blonde head whipped up as he spoke and she turned crimson, leaping to her feet.
“Ayla,” she whispered, her face getting redder if that was possible.
Ayla spun to leave, a combination of shock and tingles sweeping through her.
“Where are you going?” Diren demanded. “We have work to do.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder and watched as he waved a manicured hand for her to join him.
Blood rushed to her face as she realized what he was thinking.
No! She thought but she could not deny the heat growing
in her body as her feet moved toward him – as if she was possessed by another person. A very dirty person.
What are you doing? She cried out silently but there was no denying that she wanted to see exactly what he would do. Or at least her body did. And at that moment, her body was superwoman while her mind was an itty bitty gnat.
“There is a punishment for insubordination in this office,” Diren told her lazily as she approached.
Ayla eyed him balefully.
“What insubordination?” she wished her voice hadn’t sounded so breathy when she said that.
He gestured at her blouse.
“What did I tell you about wearing red to the office?”
Ayla glanced at her blouse and scowled.
“It’s maroon,” she refuted, watching his lips as he smirked slightly.
“I have to get back – “ Ginny started to say, but Diren held up his hand to silence her.
“It’s red. And I loathe the color red on women. I already told you I find it whorish.”
Diren stepped toward her, his fingers reaching up to twirl a strand of dark hair between his fingers and Ayla shifted her eyes downward.
“What do you think, Ginny? Is red a little too…suggestive?”
Ayla glanced at Ginny, whose face seemed to be as crimson as hers but Ayla read something else in her light brown irises; desire.
Ginny licked her lips and shook her head.
“I think Ayla looks lovely in red,” she breathed.
“You do?” he asked innocently. “Do you think Ayla is beautiful?”
Without hesitation, Ginny nodded and Ayla’s breath hitched as she felt her skin explode with awareness, tingles running from her fingertips to the tips of her nipples.
She gnawed on her lower lip and tried to look away, feeling almost guilty at the combination of shyness and lust running through her, but Diren caught her chin before she could cast her blue eyes down.
“Show her,” Diren ordered, gently pulling Ayla and turning her toward Ginny. “Show Ayla how beautiful you think she is.”
Ginny raised her amber eyes, her tongue darting out nervously and Ayla closed her eyes, sensing the kiss about to brush against her lips.
“Deeply,” Diren ordered. “Show her how you really feel.”
Unexpectedly, Ginny’s mouth parted and she stroked her tongue into Ayla’s open lips.
Ayla could still taste the remnants of Diren’s cock on the clerk, but somehow that only seemed to arouse her further.
She felt Diren press against her backside, his member engorged from the oral Ginny had just given him – but not finished. Ayla almost didn’t notice the heat of him, lost in the other woman’s embrace. She had never kissed another woman before. Never felt the desire to. But oh my god, being ordered by Diren to receive Ginny’s tongue was enough to cause a torrent of sweet desire to flood her panties.
The blonde’s fingertips teased over the tops of her full breasts, her breath growing hotter as the kiss grew more intense.
Diren’s hands made their way to the slit between her legs, hiking up her skirt as he pushed his naked organ against her cheeks.
“Oh, I think she likes you too, Ginny,” Diren murmured, his mouth falling onto the curve of her neck as his fingertips slid her thong aside, massaging her throbbing core.
Ginny’s breathing quickened, unfastening the buttons of Ayla’s blouse, immediately leaning down to take her taut nipple between her teeth.
Ayla moaned slightly but it became a full cry as Diren’s fingers sunk into her, the amount of moisture down there a dead giveaway to her true feelings about what was happening.
Rhythmically, he began to pound at her as Ginny nipped on her tender skin and Ayla threw her hand forward to brace herself on the windowsill.
Ginny reclaimed her spot on her knees, her fair face at Ayla’s bellybutton while Diren’s hand came around to her front, replacing Ginny’s attention on her sensitive breasts.
A slick wetness spilled through her, as Diren pivoted her slightly and pressed her forward so both of her hands were braced on the windowsill as Ginny knelt between her legs and pulled her thong down slowly. Ayla gasped in disbelief, her mind not even able to process all of the sensations that were pouring through her.
Diren gripped her nipple tightly, giving it a sharp squeeze while his other hand continued its merciless assault on her core simultaneously. The sting sent another wave of lust through her and her head fell back onto Diren’s shoulder. Ginny’s mouth latched onto the throbbing button at her center, sucking and slurping, making Ayla dizzy with passion.
“Oh my God…” she cried out, “Please.” She wasn’t even sure what she was begging for, she just knew that she didn’t ever want these sensations to stop. She glanced down and saw that Ginny’s hand was under her own skirt, her fingers working furiously as she feasted on Ayla’s core.
Diren removed his hand slowly, his soaked fingers sliding along the slit of her cheeks, spreading the juices around while still fingering the sensitive skin there.
“How does she taste, Ginny?” Diren growled out, and Ayla could tell he was trying to remain conversational but there was a strained note of savagery in his voice.
He needed to take her as much as she longed to be taken.
Is he going to do it again? She wondered as he positioned himself noncommittally between two points of entry.
Ginny whimpered and her tongue continued to tease at Ayla’s clit, sucking even harder than before. “She’s so amazing,” Ginny breathed out, releasing her button for a moment then latching on tightly again.
Her tongue flicked about expertly and Diren gripped Ayla’s hips, pulling back, causing Ginny to fall forward slightly but not lose her suction.
Ayla began to tremble, feeling her orgasm growing inside her but before she could release, Diren made his move, thrusting deeply inside her pussy.
She cried out, the combination of Ginny’s tongue and Diren’s pulsating shaft irresistible, ratcheting up her approaching climax. He thrust forcefully into her, his bruising grip on her hips proving that his control may have slipped a notch after all. His hand snaked up and fisted in her hair, tilting her head to the side to make room for his lips as they attached onto the tender lobe of her ear. “How does it feel, Ayla? To have Ginny’s lips sucking your clit while I plow into you from behind?” He nipped her neck, then whispered into her ear, “I think you love it, angel, don’t you? You’re so wet that my cock is drowning in you.”
His words put her over the edge and she came harder than she ever had before. Her body tightened spasmodically, the tremors ripping through her as she felt Ginny at her clit, and Diren behind her, pounding even more forcefully into her, his moans tearing from his throat. She wasn’t sure why, but in that moment, she knew that he was trying, and failing, to hold back his groans.
It felt surreal as Diren shuddered, pulling Ayla’s hair back as he finished. His body tensed hard and Ayla could feel him reaching his own climax, his head falling forward onto the curve of her neck.
“Ah, fuck me,” he ground out as his body thrust into her one last time. At the very end, he nipped the tender skin there, causing another quake to move through her body, straight to her already overloaded clit. Ginny purred, tasting the nectar slithering down her legs in heated drops.
Ayla looked down at Ginny who returned her gaze, lust darkening her light brown eyes.
Then Ginny fell back against the wall, eyes glassy, as she reached her own climax. She sighed loudly and Ayla watched in fascination as her digits stopped manipulating the sweet spot between her legs, finally allowing herself to go.
Unexpectedly, Diren jerked his cock out of her, turning away and tucking himself back into his pants. What the fuck?
He sauntered across the room, adjusting his clothing as he went, leaving both women to catch their breath.
Ayla watched him reach into a cupboard by the bar and yank out a crystal tumbler. He poured two fingers of scotch into it as he dropped unceremonious
ly onto the sofa.
Slowly, Ayla straightened her clothes, maintaining a steadfast glare on her boss.
She knew it had more to do with avoiding Ginny’s eyes than with genuine anger with Diren, but she was annoyed with him all the same. Why did he have to be such a colossal ass all the time? Who had made him so insensitive and jaded?
Without a word to either of them, Ginny slipped quietly out of the inner office leaving Ayla alone with Diren.
Taking a deep breath, Ayla shook her head as Diren studied her face.
“Why are you sulking?” he asked her coldly as she fumbled with her buttons, but Ayla didn’t answer. She was still trying to process what had happened. Sulking? What the hell had pissed him off so badly? Ayla didn’t think he had the right to be angry.
She walked purposely toward her computer desk and sat down, intentionally averting her gaze so that she would not encourage conversation.
“The silent treatment?” Diren asked, his voice laced with amusement. “Sloane used to try that but she was never very good at keeping it up for long. Some people just need to hear themselves talk.”
Ayla’s head whipped up at the mention of his ex-wife. She narrowed her eyes dangerously.
“Do not compare me to Sloane. Or Delia. Or any of the hundreds of others you’ve taken.” she demanded.
Diren seemed entertained by her outburst.
“Did I say that?” he replied, rising from his spot. He took another sip of his alcohol before placing it carefully on the glass coffee table.
How dare he? Maybe that kind of interlude was normal for him, but her world had just rocked on its axis. “I am not like the women you use and dispose of like dirty napkins,” Ayla continued standing. “I am not at your beck and call for sex. I am your assistant only from now on. Do not think to touch me again.”
Diren froze in his tracks and slowly turned to peer at her.
“Are you accusing me of something?” he demanded, anger coloring his face. “Are you suggesting that I forced you to do this? To come while you had not one, but two sets of hands on you? To scream my name while I banged you and another woman tongued you?” he said low while he stalked toward her, a furious expression on his face.
BLACKMAIL_A billionaire blackmail romance Page 8
