Driven Collection

by K. Bromberg

  This is the type of man I usually fall for. Black and white, no grey area. Knowledgeable and passionate. This is what I find sexy. Not the arrogant, self-serving bastard from the other night who was reckless and uninhibited. Thank goodness I know the truth so I won’t fall for his act.

  At least this is what I’m telling myself when I hear my name pass from his lips.

  “What?” I ask as I shake myself from my thoughts.

  “Do you have any questions?” Colton asks, cocking his head to the side thoughfully. I can tell he knows exactly what I’m thinking about—him.

  “First of all, let me say that I hope your mother is feeling better,” I say, letting my manners override my contempt for him. When he nods, I continue, “What exactly does CD Enterprises do, Mr. Donavan?” I ask.

  “My mother is doing better, thank you. As for CDE, the company’s primary function is ownership and management of a race team. My race team,” he says, exuding pride. “Among other things, our biggest venture is a cutting edge technology that will help increase the safety quotient for drivers. It is currently patent pending.”

  “Hmmmm,” I contemplate, trying to figure out how this can all tie in. “And how exactly are you going to tie a race car or team, per se, into raising funds for orphaned kids and Corporate Cares?” I am back in business mode, my intellect unaffected by his charm. For the most part. But I have a feeling there’s a catch here.

  Once bitten, twice shy.

  “Thank you for the segue,” he says. “On Monday, I brought your organization to my team’s attention. After some research, discussions, and brainstorming, we created the following proposal.” He flips open the packet in front of me and looks at me, pleasure softening his hard features as he announces, “CD Enterprises proposes that up front, we donate one and a half million dollars to Corporate Cares.”

  Holy shit! I try to stifle the words from tumbling out of my mouth. Pride is evident in his eyes as he watches me pensively, quietly gauging my reaction before continuing.

  “In addition to the immediate funds, we plan to devote a portion of my car’s graphics in the upcoming season to promote your cause or mission, if you will.” He sees the confusion on my face and puts his hand up so he can finish. “We plan on using this advertising spot to entice other companies and race teams to add to the sponsorship. My team will get them to commit to paying a set dollar amount per lap that my car completes or a blanket sponsorship.”

  I widen my eyes in disbelief; this could bring in a staggering amount of money for the company. I glance over to Teddy, who is so excited he is fidgeting, a huge grin on his face. I look back to Colton and my eyes meet his, emerald to amethyst, warring between gratitude and confusion. Why us? Why our company?

  He smiles softly at me as if he knows what I’m thinking and acknowledges my dilemma. Accepting the donation means I have to accept his date. He continues, “We’re still figuring out whether we offer the sponsorship per race or over the whole season. My team is working on that as we speak, seeing as we only have a little under three months until the first race to get as many corporate sponsors as possible.”

  “Isn’t that unbelievable?” Teddy bellows from beside me.

  I turn to him and smile sincerely before turning back to face Colton. “It’s very generous of you and your company; I’m just a little baffled about why. Why Corporate Cares?”

  The corners of his mouth turn up. “Let’s just say that you can be very persuasive, Ms. Thomas.” He holds my stare as I inhale a sharp breath. “I think I’ll enjoy working with someone as passionate and...” he looks away, finding the word before bringing his eyes back to mine “...responsive as I found you to be on Saturday night.” He keeps his face impassive, although his eyes are anything but, as his tongue darts out to lick his lower lip.

  Despite the blood draining from my head at his words, I can feel a flush spread over my cheeks and down my neck. The corners of his eyes crinkle. I squirm under his gaze, wishing to be anywhere but here.

  Like in his bed, under him, with his fingers dancing across my skin and his lips possessing mine. What the fuck? It’s bad enough he’s in my face, now he’s corrupting my thoughts. This is not good. Definitely not good.

  I suppress my anger at the nerve of Colton. I can’t believe he’s just said this. Is referring to my indiscretion in front of my boss really that necessary? How dare he come in my office and provoke me, remind me of something I’m not proud of. Something I’m not going to forget anytime soon.

  “Responsive,” Teddy says, rolling the word over his tongue in thought. “That is a great way to describe my Rylee here!” He pats me on the back and pride fills his voice. He is completely oblivious. “Always going above and beyond.”

  Colton shifts his eyes to Teddy, who is unaware of our sexual tension. “It is, indeed. And a very hard quality to find in someone.” He nods, agreeing with Teddy. “I watched her in action on Saturday night and was quite impressed.”

  I’ve had enough of this, yet I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s agitated me. I don’t want to work with this man, but let’s face it, Corporate Cares has no other option to make all my blood, sweat, and tears over the past two years come to fruition. He’s stepping up to the plate, even if his motives aren’t completely wholesome.

  I have to think of this collaboration as a means to an end. My boys and the many others who can benefit from this new facility.

  “So Mr. Donavan—”

  “Colton, please,” he reiterates.

  “Colton, I understand the premise,” I state primly, wanting to get this conversation back on track. “What exactly is my involvement in this collaboration?”

  “Well, Ms. Thomas, I won’t need much from you from a business standpoint. I have a team that is very experienced in this type of thing. Obviously though, I’ll need you to be the point of contact for their questions and other miscellaneous things.”

  These “other miscellaneous things” have me worried. “So why—”

  Colton holds up a hand again, and I am getting rather annoyed by this habit. “As I discussed with Teddy, the contract between our companies for the donation is contingent on several factors.” He pauses, organizing the papers on the table before him. He looks up, his attention focused solely on me. “For the next several months and into the season, I will need a representative of Corporate Cares with me for numerous occasions.”

  He stops as I purse my lips, my eyes growing large as I hope my assumptions are incorrect. “Me?” I question, already knowing the answer.

  “Yes. You.” He mouths. I watch his eyes narrow as I lick my lips. All of a sudden, I feel hot. His lips part just a bit as he watches me, and I have to shake the inappropriate thoughts of them out of my head as he continues. “In conjunction with the announcement of our joining forces, there will be several events—some locally, some out of town—black tie affairs, press junkets, et cetera,” he says, casually waving his fingers, “that I will need you to escort me to.”

  “What?” I stand up, pushing my chair back with force and look between Colton and Teddy in bewilderment. How dare he? I turn down a date, turn down going beyond second base backstage, and he schemes up a way to tie me to him with a contract? What an immature prick! His ego must really be bruised from my rejection.

  I’m dumbfounded. No way. This is not happening. Words I’d love to say to him, to call him, run through my head as I seethe with anger.

  “Is there something the matter, Rylee?” Teddy asks, breaking through my haze of frustration. “I think it’s a brilliant idea.” I turn my head to him, opening my mouth to respond but nothing comes out. “If Colton’s willing to use his name, his connections, and popularity by standing beside you at a press filled event to get the word out about Corporate Cares, then—”

  “Why not take advantage of it?” Colton finishes for him, a smug smile spreading across his face.

  I’m starting to feel dizzy, my head spinning from the turn of events. I place
my hand on the table to brace myself as I slowly sink into the chair, my eyes focusing on an imaginary spot on the papers in front of me.

  “Ry? You okay?” Teddy asks, concerned.

  “Huh?” I raise my head up to meet his empathetic eyes.

  “You look a little flushed. Are you feeling okay?”

  “Yeah. Yes,” I answer, taking a deep breath. “I’m just—it was a long shift. That’s all,” I say, gathering myself. It’s a means to an end. “Sorry,” I apologize. “I’m just overwhelmed that the new project is going to be a reality.” Colton sits silently, analyzing me. I shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

  “Look, Rylee,” Teddy says, “I know you have a lot on your plate right now and this is just adding to it, but it’s so close now we can taste it. There is no one I’d rather have be the face of this organization. You’re the one, kiddo.”

  His high praise warms me despite the panic I feel from being trapped. From being forced into a situation that I know will be beneficial for Corporate Cares but no doubt devastating for me.

  Teddy glances at his watch and reaches over to pat my hand. “I have a conference call in five minutes.” He rises from his seat as does Colton. “I trust that I can leave you two in here to fine-tune the remaining details.”

  He reaches his hand out to Colton, sealing the agreement with a handshake. “Thank you, for your unexpected generosity. You have no idea how many lives you are helping to change with this gift.”

  An unexplained darkness flickers across Colton’s face. “I understand more than most people might think,” he says before releasing Teddy’s hand. “Thank you for your warm reception to the idea. My lawyer will be contacting you in the morning to draw up the paperwork.”

  With that, Teddy nods and exits the conference room. I stand watching the empty doorway, my back toward Colton as I contemplate my next move.

  I’m overwhelmed by his generosity. At his attempt to make my dreams come true, so why can I not feel gratitude toward him? Why do I just want to turn around and throttle him? I hate being forced into anything. It’s not that I have to be in control—well, maybe just a little bit. But at least I want to make my own decisions, not be treated like some compliant woman who submits without question.

  Why does he irritate me so much? Is it because every time I look at his lips or watch his fingers rub over his jaw, my body tightens in anticipation of how they felt on me? Or is it because I can hear his rasp of a voice in my dreams telling me how much he wants me? Shit! My life was perfectly fine until last weekend. And then I meet him and now I’m a flustered mess.

  I shouldn’t care that he was making out and doing God knows what with Bailey, but I do. I’m embarrassed that he probably thinks I let any guy I meet put his hands on me. I’m irritated that I know the only reason for his pursuit is because I’m not falling for his smooth lines and eloquent bullshit. I’m confused why a man who is like a Pied Piper to women much prettier, sexier—everything—than me is even glancing twice in my direction.

  My life is not some Hollywood romance movie where boring girl meets famous boy and they fall madly in love. I’m not naïve enough to believe that this is going to happen to me.

  And then, my feelings for Max further confuse things. I feel guilty that, despite loving him, I never felt as alive with him as I did with Colton.

  I sigh loudly, my body aware of his proximity.

  He chuckles, fueling my irritation, as I turn to face him. He is leaning back in his chair, an ankle resting on the opposing knee, his arms casually resting on the armrests. We stare at each other, observing and scrutinizing each other for the first time without observers. His eyes lazily wander over my body, pausing at my cleavage. I watch his smile widen in what I can assume is an appreciation of the feminine form in general, not just mine, before they travel further down.

  His beauty really is magnificent. Thick, dark lashes starkly contrast his green eyes. His strong nose has a slight curve, as if it had been broken. This imperfection in an otherwise perfect face adds to his overwhelming sex appeal. I take in his full lips, the top one slightly thinner than the lower, the darkened stubble that shadows his face, and the pulse that beats steadily under the curve of his jaw. I have the sudden urge to kiss him and nuzzle into him, to feel the pulse of this vibrant man beneath my lips. To be enveloped in his clean, earthy scent.

  I shake my head, trying to break the trance. He quirks his eyebrows and waits for me to make the first move. We stare for several moments as we measure each other. I finally break the silence. “Is this what you call taking matters in to your own hands?”

  “What’s wrong? Can’t handle the temptation, Ryles?” He flashes a wicked, arrogant grin at me, and as much as I want to roll my eyes, he’s all I can think about.

  “Hardly,” I snort.

  He shrugs indifferently. “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do, Ry,” he says. “You left me no choice.”

  “No choice? Really?” I scoff, throwing my hands up in disgust. “What are you, fifteen years old throwing a tantrum because you didn’t get your way?”

  “You owe me a date.”

  “All this for a frickin’ date, Ace? Or is it because I denied your sexual ministrations after I came to my senses?” Ugh, he is so frustrating!

  “Oh, you would’ve come all right,” he rebuts sardonically, raising an eyebrow, “and from what I recall, your senses? Those were strewn all over the backstage floor.”

  Smartass! How can he get me so fuming mad when it takes so much more to get me to this point with other people?

  “So because I said no, you offer up tons of money and bind me to a contract? Forcing me to have to spend time with you? Money in exchange for a date? I’m not a whore, Colton,” I rant, waltzing to the window trying to abate my anger. “Especially not yours!”

  I can hear him shuffling behind me as he rises and walks toward the window. He looks at me through his reflection in the glass and holds my stare. My body vibrates.

  “Let’s get something straight,” he growls. “First of all, I have my own reasons for donating the money that have absolutely nothing to do with you. Nothing! Second, I don’t ever pay for dates, Rylee. Ever. I have more class than that.” I can feel his fury roll off him in waves.

  “You paid for a date with me,” I retort.

  “Charity. Auction. Does. Not. Equal. Escort. Service.” He snarls, taking a step closer, but never breaking our stare. “Lastly,” he seethes, grabbing hold of my arm to emphasize his point, “I don’t ever want to hear you refer to yourself as a whore again.”

  We stand in silence as his words settle around us. Why the hell does he care what I call myself? He has no claim over me. I know better than to provoke when someone is angry, but I can’t help myself. For some reason I want to push his buttons. If I’m going to be forced to do something, then I might as well say my peace.

  “Then why the contract? The events that I’m required to be your escort for.” I yank my arm out of his grip. “Sounds like your ego is bruised because I won’t succumb to your dazzling charm, so you need to tie me to you to prove to yourself that you still have that magic Colton touch.”

  “I didn’t say anything about bondage,” he cuts me off, smirking. “But if that’s your thing, Rylee, I’d be more than happy to oblige. I can teach you the ropes.”

  I shake my head in disbelief as the meaning of his words sink in. Blood rushes to my cheeks before I can meet his eyes in the glass again. “I’m ignoring your last comment,” I say dryly, trying to recall what my point was since he has scattered my thoughts. Um—where was I? Oh! “Your ego’s bruised because I won’t fall helplessly at your feet and become your compliant sexual plaything, so you come to my job—take the one thing that I really want, the one thing that I’ve been working toward for over two years—and you serve it up to me on a platter.”

  “And the problem with that is …?”

  “The problem is that you offer it to me with terms that are self-satisfying to y
ou …” I falter because I realize I’m rambling now. And at some point I’m afraid that if I keep talking, private thoughts may tumble out—thoughts about him. And if I slip, then … he’ll know I think about him more than I should.

  Colton sidles up next to me, leaning his shoulder on the glass, staring at my profile. Our silence extends for several moments, my anxiety ratcheting from his quiet scrutiny.

  When he speaks, his voice is demandingly soft, “Why won’t you go out on the date with me?”

  Whoa, change of subject! A sliver of a laugh escapes my mouth from nerves. I keep my face averted, watching the world outside. “For what reason? You and I come from different worlds, Colton, that have different rules. You want a date so you can add another to the many notches in your bedpost. You said you wanted to fuck me to get me out of your system and move on,” I say, repeating his threat. In my periphery, I see him blanch at my words. “You may be used to women declaring their love for you and dropping their panties at clever lines such as that but not this one.”

  Colton starts to speak. I know he’s going to drop a witty one-liner about how I’ll have no problem dropping mine for him. Using his own tactic, I stop him before he can interrupt by holding up my hand. “Our encounter was a momentary indiscretion on my part. One that will never happen again.” I turn my face to look Colton in the eyes. “I’m not that kind of girl, Ace.”

  He regards me, the muscle in his jaw pulsing. He leans in, the coarseness of his voice making his words resonate with truth. “You know that deep down, a tiny part of that proper, respectable woman that you are wants to visit that reckless, sexy, uninhibited place inside you that’s begging to get out. A place I can undoubtedly help you find.”

  My eyes blaze while I try to reject the truth behind his words. He watches my internal struggle until I turn from him and walk back toward the conference table. I don’t want him to see the despair on my eyes. “You play dirty, Colton.”