And though working through lunch might not necessarily be considered healthy, I don’t care. I have a business to set up. And emails to respond to. Well, one in particular at least.
I bite into my juicy steak whilst I read.
Mr. Rush,
All formats for the required design are attached.
I hope you consider using Enhance Graphics & Design again in the future.
All the best with the launch of Rush House.
Maya Kennedy
Junior Graphic Designer
Enhance Graphics & Design
Does she really think this is goodbye? Just because the job is done, doesn’t mean I am. I finish my meal with haste, eager to get my hands on the keyboard.
Miss Kennedy,
I believe a drink is in order as a celebration of the impending success your creativity shall attract. Meet me at The Crystal at 5.30pm.
I’ll be waiting.
Grayson
CEO Rush Enterprises
I smirk to myself with satisfaction. I’m close to getting what I want. I can practically hear the bells of a done deal ringing.
No, wait. That’s the phone. . .
“Grayson Rush,” I say, clicking the speaker button. What? Having my hands free means I can multi-task.
“Mr. Rush. It’s Maya Kennedy. . .”
“Miss Kennedy. What a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?” I think about the email, knowing it’s the cause behind her flustered voice.
“Do you take all your hired employees out for a drink when a job is done?” She asks accusingly, her tone’s stern.
“No,” I reply honestly.
“Just the ones you want to fuck then?”
I smile at the phone, liking her directness. “Have I given the impression I want to fuck you?”
The line goes quiet long enough for me to double check that she’s still there. “I think your actions say more than your words, never mind your uncontrollable need to bed every woman that’s willing.”
“Are you willing?” What? I’m interested to see what she says. Aren’t you?
“Not in the slightest. I have no desires to be a number in your database.”
Fuck, what is it about this smart-mouth woman that I just can’t get enough of? She’s openly rejecting me, and I’m not even wounded. Not a scratch.
“I’m glad we cleared that up. I’ll see you after work,” I say, unaffected. You don’t think I’m going to give up that easily do you? Because like me, Maya’s actions speak louder than her words, too. And I know she’s curious about me. I’ve seen it in her eyes.
“Mr. Rush, are you not listening?”
“Of course I am, but I’m a man of rewards. Every successful part of this journey deserves to be celebrated, and I’d like you there with me. It’s just a drink, Maya,” I sigh. Am I really that repulsive? I’ve been led to believe that I’m quite a catch.
Why am I even doing this to myself? If she turns me down again, I’m done for good. There’s not enough time in the world to waste on an unsure thing.
“Okay. Goodbye, Grayson.”
The phone clicks off though I don’t really hear. I’m too mesmerised by the sexy way my name rolls off her lips. It goes straight to my cock, pinging to life with thoughts of her voice calling my name as I make her come.
I’m done with playing it safe. If I don’t have her soon, my balls will burst from negligence.
Chapter Six
~ £ ~
Half past five comes and goes, and I think I’ve been stood up. Every tick of my watch is a reminder I’m here alone, which is fine. I love my own company. What’s not fine is knowing why I’m alone.
Fucking psychology ruins me. Why do the most unattainable always have to be the most desirable? I’ve gotten used to having my way.
I’m getting ready to leave, as much as it hurts I’m admitting defeat, when she stands in the doorway. And she’s so fucking beautiful I’m not the only one staring.
She’s wearing smart, black trousers with a pink belt to match her baby pink sweater. Jewellery cascades from her neck to her chest, drawing my attention to what I already know is a divine set of melons.
I hear her heels clack on the floor as she comes towards me despite the elevated noise level of the room. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, and her fringe meets a pair of large, black-rimmed glasses, geek style.
“Grayson.”
“Maya,” I say, holding my tongue before ruining the start of what I’m sure will be a great night. The waiter arrives with the champagne I’ve pre-ordered, and disappears after filling our glasses. “I’m glad you made it.”
“Yeah, sorry about that.” She sips her drink before continuing, the movement of her plump lips has me distracted. “I hadn’t realised the time.”
“Are you a workaholic, too?”
She nods. “I have to be if I’m ever going to get promoted.”
I squint, remembering my unfair remark at her job title. In my defence, she had taken me by surprise.
“Have you been there long?” I ask, savouring the fruity flavour of the champagne on my tongue. I’m fascinated by what she has to say, especially when she looks up at me, her eyes seek mine.
“A month maybe?”
I cough. Did she really just say a month? “So, my reaction to your job title wasn’t completely unfounded then? You’re practically a baby in the industry,” and I mean that in the nicest way possible. That she’s new, young, not childish.
She finishes her drink. “Perhaps, but I’m aware of my qualifications and what I’m capable of. This business is brutal. I have to fight for each account, so if my confidence can get my foot in the door, then I know I have what it takes to follow through.”
She’s not wrong there either. She’s magnificent. And her confidence is the sexiest thing she’s wearing, though those glasses are really doing it for me. Men like women who know what they want, especially when they have the guts to get it. It’s pretty much an aphrodisiac. I should know. If my cock hardens any more, I’m going to rip a seam in my tailored trousers, and my brain will fall out right in her lap.
“I’m not complaining.” I smile, watching the waiter refill our glasses. “I think your work is phenomenal, but you clearly don’t like being a junior.”
Her lips tighten. It’s a movement I’ve come to learn she does when she’s concentrating.
“No, I don’t. There’s too much prejudice against the word. People think it means I’m inadequate of the big jobs. That I should only be trusted with collecting images.”
Uh, oh. Guilty. Haven’t I done the exact same thing?
“I have a BA Hons degree, and a Masters degree in Graphic Design, and yet the only positions I can apply for are at junior level. I get that I’m paying my dues, working up the career ladder, blah blah blah.” Her eyes squint as she mocks the system, her tongue lolls out in jest. “But what sucks about the fucking workplace is that my boss doesn’t have either qualifications, just experience. Which is fine, they came up in a time when that was more relevant. But now, you need qualifications and experience, but how the fuck am I going to get that if they won’t give me a proper job in the first place? It’s a goddamn catch-22, and I hate it.”
Her passion for work is alluring, I find I’m drawn to her even more. There’s something utterly unique about her that I just can’t quite put my finger on. Oh, but I want to. I want to run my hands all over her.
“How did you get my appointment then?” I ask intrigued.
Her eyes duck down to her glass, and I catch the blush in her cheeks. “I, uh. Well, my boss was sick, but I wasn’t the first replacement.” She laughs nervously. “I moved the meeting up that day to get in before anyone else did.”
Holy shit she’s got some balls, and I like it! “Ha! Well, they didn’t fire you so I’m guessing everything went okay?”
“Of course it did. I gave them their biggest account of the year, but they were pissed at how I went about it. I don’t care though
, if I hadn’t taken that risk, I’d still be collecting images for projects I don’t have any say in.”
“So it was worth it?”
“Hell yeah!” She grins, knocking back the rest of her drink. “Wait, are you pissed at me, too?” She shrinks in her seat as she looks at me.
“Do I look pissed?” I ask, smouldering to the best of my ability.
“No, you look sex. . .” She stops midsentence, and it takes every ounce of restraint not to shake the rest of what she’s about to say out of her.
Was she going to say I look sexy? Goddammit, talk about torture. My cock’s having a hard time deciding whether it should be up or down.
“If you don’t want to be a junior, what do you want, Maya?” I ask, very aware of her heated gaze. Is it the champagne that’s got her looking at me like she’s ready to fuck me, or has something changed between us? Either way, my dick is struggling to be let loose like the savage beast it is.
“Well, my goal is to make it to Creative Director before I turn thirty.”
“And when’s that?” I ask, looking at her beautiful young skin.
“Seven years.”
Which makes her twenty-three. Interesting. “I don’t see any reason why you can’t have what you want if you’re willing to work for it. That’s what I do, and look at me.” I laugh as she does, and the happy sound escaping her lips makes me territorial. I’m suddenly filled with this need to hear her laugh again, possibly forever.
What is that? And how do I get rid of it? These feelings are messing up my very simple life.
“Is there anything you can’t succeed at, Grayson?”
My magic wand and I can think of something. Oh, what I’d give to put a spell in her.
“Do you want to know my secret?” I lean on the table, closing the gap between her lips and mine.
“Yes,” she whimpers, her warm breath dances on the surface of my lips.
“I never give up.”
She closes her eyes as she swallows hard. I sit up, reinforcing the distance between us. I want her badly, I want her now. But when I kiss her, I want us alone where only I get the pleasure of watching her. I’m not about to put on a show for all the businessmen in the room.
“Come on, let me take you home.” I stand, holding out my hand to help her.
“Have I bored you already?”
“Quite the opposite,” I say, opening the door to let her through. On the quiet porch I guide her gently against the wall, away from the tumbling rain as we wait for Logan. “I’m captivated by you, Maya, and I’m not entirely sure what that means. I want you badly,” I press up against her, letting her feel how true my statement is.
She moans in my ear, clearly excited at the prospect. I harden even more, painfully so, just as Logan pulls up in my limousine. “Where to, Maya?”
“StarShine Apartments in. . .”
“I know where they are,” I smirk, relaying the info to Logan. I seal the partition as we drive through the rainy streets of London. “Do you want me, Maya?” I gaze at her hands fidgeting in her lap. She’s uneasy.
Now that the phone is out of her hands, and I’m sitting here in front of her, it’s clear her earlier words meant nothing. She can’t lie to herself now that I see the desire blazing in her eyes.
She swallows. “Yes, but I don’t want to want you.” Well, at least she’s honest about it.
“Why?” I urge, losing the will to hold back.
“Because I have too much pride and dignity to be reduced as another one of your conquests. I want more than a good fuck, Grayson. I don’t want to appear on tomorrow’s newspaper as they keep score on your triumph tally.”
And there goes my stomach. One word is all it takes. It’s like a foreseeable promise to be betrothed. More means too much than what I can give.
More means losing me. But I don’t blame her either. Hasn’t Cam warned me that this will happen? And I see it, too. Maya deserves more than what I’m offering.
In comparison, all those other women have been cheap renditions of the female form. But Maya is lively, vibrant, passionate. And fucking honest. Not to mention mind-blowingly stunning.
How long have I waited for a chance like this to come my way? How long have I been fucked up, blinded by my unforgettable past? I’ve been ruined. I’ve been burned.
Do I even have it in me to be the gentleman I once was eons ago?
“Say something.” Her voice is barely a whisper.
“I don’t think I can give you what you need. I’m not a ‘more’ guy, Maya. I like to keep my pleasure simple, and my business complicated. Not the other way round.”
Her eyes never leave mine, I feel like she’s pulling my soul to the surface, like she’s seeing a part of me I’ve never unleashed. It’s making me feel naked. Completely bare.
Vulnerable.
I’m losing control where she’s concerned. Everything I am is based on my need to dominate. Without that, I’m nothing.
Grayson Rush will not exist.
“I understand,” she says. “Kiss me, Grayson. Then tell me goodbye.”
I look up unexpectedly, wondering if she’s toying with me. She isn’t. Her shoulders are relaxed. Her hands are still. And her eyes, those sweet green eyes, are begging me.
I pull her to my lap, wrapping her legs around mine before she has time to negate. I crush my lips to her mouth, and every sensory nerve comes alive within me. I feel everything.
My body bursts awake. She gasps at the passion, allowing me entry. I seek out her tongue, melding it with mine.
Her hands are everywhere; my shoulders, my back, my hair. Whilst mine trail slowly from her hair to her neck, across her nipples which instantly harden. I linger a little while longer, enjoying the heavy weight in my hands. Fuck, they’re big.
She moans again as I venture further, cupping her juicy arse, squeezing hard as I pull her closer to me, letting my shaft rub against her heated pussy.
I nip her lip in the process, and she loses herself. Rubbing against me frantically. Dry humping has never been so fucking sexy.
I’m slipping my hands up under her sweater where I’m instantly graced with the heat from her skin. She tears her lips from mine to breathe coarsely, and I can see she’s on the edge which drives me wild.
I take her mouth again, not wanting to be separated as I tweak her bare nipples to delicious points.
“Grayson,” she moans. “I’m gonna come.” She rubs herself harder against me, and I’m straining. Practically crossing my toes to stop my load.
But it’s no good. She’s too damn energetic, too fucking beautiful.
“Come with me, Maya.” She lets go, and I watch the pleasure ripple through her face as I lose it. I’m panting like I’ve just run a marathon in ten minutes. My chest is pounding.
I rest my head against her forehead, composing my thoughts. What the bloody hell just happened? I’m a twenty-seven year-old man for fuck’s sake.
And I just came in my pants.
Chapter Seven
~ £ ~
“Shit! You did it, didn’t you? You fucked the junior.” Cam stares at me accusingly whilst I do my best to concentrate on the road ahead. Not that it takes much. Driving in London has you stand still for longer than the actual journey.
But I don’t care because it’s Thursday night, which is my dedicated evening to unleash one of the many cars I own. Tonight, however, is all about my newly-acquired matte black Ferrari 458. And she’s a beautiful beast.
Powerful. Hungry. Growl-worthy.
I look over at Cam. “I didn’t fuck her.” Well, in my books that wasn’t a fuck, just a horny hump with a satisfactory squirt. Not quite what I had in mind when I thought of getting Maya between the sheets. Not that it wasn’t spectacular either.
“Something happened between you. I haven’t seen you brooding like this in years. I warned you, Rush.”
I grip the steering wheel a little tighter, easing out of London and onto the equally frustrating M25. What’s
a guy gotta do to get a strip of empty road?
“She wants more,” I finally say between closed teeth.
It’s been a day. Twenty-four torturously long hours since I lost my mind to the all-consuming frenzy in the back of my limo.
One-thousand, four-hundred and forty minutes since I last spoke to the vixen. She’s kept to her word of no contact, so I have, too. And I’m dying with temptation.
I swear I only planned to kiss her, but the taste of her was too intense. I needed more. So did she.
And now I’m so fucked up with confusion between what I think I should do and what is best, that I can’t concentrate. On anything.
Sure, I’ve done more work today, but don’t ask me what. I have no fucking idea.
“And you can’t give it to her?” Cam questions, raising a brow.
I snort. “I can give her everything in the world, I just don’t think I can give her me. It’s a cost I’m not ready to expend.”
“Even if she’s worth it?”
I glance at Cam, seeing the sadness in his eyes that I know is a reflection of mine. I pull up in the driveway of our Thursday tradition, and find my sister sitting on the porch swing waiting.
“New car?” She asks, smirking with arms crossed.
“She’s a beauty, right?” I smile, getting a mouthful of her purple-red hair as I hug her in greeting.
“All that money and you waste it on cars.” She shakes her head as she hugs Cam, too.
“Hey, now. I didn’t see you complaining when it was your car I was buying last year.”
She laughs. “Touché. Come on, mum’s almost done with dinner.”
Though there are nine years between us, my sister and I are a lot alike. What can I say? I’m a fantastic role model. Well, as long as you don’t count my playboy ways into the equation. And God knows my sister will never become like me in that respect. I mean it. She’s wearing a chastity belt encased by an electric fence, fortified with a ten-foot cement wall for life. No one will be good enough to get near her precious cargo.
Wicked Sunshine Page 4
