by Jess Dee
She smiled grimly and shook her head. “Thank you. Your money is no longer required. Now if you could remove your hand, I need to get back to the hospital.”
AJ nodded and pressed G. “Please,” he said as the lift began to descend, “hear me out first. Riley Corporation wants to be involved.” He had to sit down before his skull exploded and tiny bits of brain splattered the walls of the lift.
“A night of shady sex would not be a solid foundation to base a children’s support group.”
“Shady sex?” he roared, then instantly regretted it as pain whipped down his forehead and over his eye. “You think that’s—”
The lift bumped to a stop, and the doors opened. A man stepped inside.
“Lift’s full,” AJ barked. “Take the next one.” He banged on the door close button, and the startled passenger jumped out backward as the doors shut again.
“What is with you?” she snapped. “Are you on a mission to insult everyone you speak to today? Or is this some kind of twisted attempt to trap me in a lift alone with you? Again?”
Okay, so she was as aware of the irony of their surroundings as he was. It didn’t help his head any.
“Was once not enough?” she seethed. “Is this how you prove your male domination? By trapping unsuspecting women in elevators?”
“Just one woman.” She was fired up and pissed off, but she was also turned on. He’d spent enough intimate time with her to recognize the look in her eyes when she became aroused.
She glowered at him with smoky, hooded eyes.
A fine trickle of perspiration ran down his spine. He had a hard-on and a killer headache, and he wasn’t sure which hurt more.
She bit her lower lip.
“Shit, woman,” he gasped and backed her into the wall. Before she had a chance to resist, he kissed her.
There was nothing tender about his kiss. It was brutal, dragging a response from her even as she beat her fists against his arms. He didn’t want to relish the jolt of desire in his stomach or the now-familiar pull in his chest. Her resistance appealed even less. He increased the intensity of the kiss, pushing his tongue past her lips, rediscovering the velvety depth of her mouth.
Although her wild flailing continued, her punches weakened until she no longer hit him. Instead, she grabbed at him. First his arms, then his waist, and then his hips.
He didn’t want to respond to her. He didn’t want to feel anything, except maybe her naked body against his. His head throbbed. He should have stayed the hell away from her.
No, he shouldn’t have.
Her hands found his ass and molded themselves to it as her mouth hungrily responded to his. This was no loving kiss. This was a fierce battle of wills. Neither of them wanted to be there; neither could stay away. Her tongue tormented his mouth with its violent counterattack. Nothing had felt as good in days.
He wasn’t close enough. Had to get closer, had to pull her, full length, against him. She beat him to it. Grabbing his shoulders, she shimmied against the wall and, using them both for leverage, hoisted her hips up to meet his as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
Better. At least now she was massaging herself on his cock. She rocked against him, and he thickened and grew beneath her movements. She groaned into his mouth, and he responded by nicking her tongue with his teeth.
The layers of clothing between them only heightened his sense of the forbidden. He shouldn’t be doing this. She was trouble. The thought didn’t stop him from kissing her. She was aroused, and he was hard, and she was bucking wildly against him, making soft mewling sounds that echoed in his stomach and his heart.
God help him, she had him so hot, if they carried on this way, he’d lose it right here in the slowly descending lift. Fully clothed.
Even as he thought it, her legs stiffened around him. She cried out, stilled completely, and, just like that, climaxed.
Her body shuddered and shook in his arms, and she panted in his ear, the warm uneven puffs of air tickling his neck. He held her tight as she slowed to erratic shivers, knowing that if she groaned so much as once, he’d come, too. He was so close. So bloody close. There was little to no chance of holding out. Hearing her voice her satisfaction would do him in completely.
Focus on the headache. Suffer the pain. It was a vague tickle compared to the throbbing in his cock.
The lift dinged.
Her horrified gasp gave him the control he so desperately needed.
“Close your eyes,” he ordered as common sense returned in a rush. “Relax your legs, and for Christ sake, trust me.”
…
By the time the doors slid open to reveal the ground floor of the building, Lexi lay seemingly unconscious in his arms, her face hot and her breathing irregular.
“She needs some air,” Riley said as he began to walk, his steps fast and purposeful. “Give me some space and I’ll get her outside. She’ll be fine.”
Just as well he carried her, because the orgasm had ripped through her from nowhere. One minute she was frantic to have him inside her, and the next she was convulsing madly around his waist before collapsing in a boneless heap in his arms.
If her life had depended on it, she couldn’t have walked out of the lift on steady legs.
Oh God. How could she lose it like that? With one kiss, she’d come apart at the seams.
Except it wasn’t just the kiss.
There was something about AJ Riley. No matter what other emotions he evoked in her—extreme rage or warm content—when he was around, a savage, sexual hunger besieged her. A hunger only he could sate.
A rush of air hit her. They were outside. She opened one eye and looked at him, aware her face must be a thousand different shades of red.
“You okay?” The timbre of his voice was warm honey and liquid sex, rendering her incapable of responding.
He walked to a shadowed alcove. “I’m going to put you down now,” he warned, and the hot honey dripped over her skin.
She shuddered.
“I’m going to put you down,” he repeated unnecessarily and didn’t move.
He simply held her, and she simply let him.
Until she realized she must weigh a ton and shifted awkwardly.
Carefully, he removed his arm from beneath her knees, the same arm with which he held her briefcase, and she eased her feet to the ground. He kept his other arm behind her back, so the only way she could maneuver herself into an upright position without knocking them both over was to slide down his body.
He was still every bit as hard as he’d been in the lift—and she was as flustered. She tilted her head and looked up at him, only to find herself drowning in his blue eyes. “Mr. Riley, I—”
“Adam.”
“What?”
“My name,” he said and smiled. “It’s Adam. Not Riley or AJ or Mr. Riley. Just Adam.”
For a full minute, she couldn’t breathe. The smile lit both his face and the shadowed alcove where they stood. It thawed the ice in his eyes and in her heart. She could have stared at it all day because it was so damn sexy.
“Adam,” she repeated stupidly. He had the kind of smile that stopped cars. If anyone else saw it, Sydney would be caught in the worst traffic jam in history.
Lexi stood transfixed, trapped against the hard length of his body.
“Adam,” she said again.
“I apologize.” He took a deep breath. “Today’s meeting got out of control.”
She nodded.
“There’s a restaurant across the road.” He motioned behind him. “Join me for a coffee? Maybe we can start again. On the right foot this time.”
Because he smiled as he said it and kept his arm on her back, she walked beside him without argument as he made his way across the road and into the coffee shop.
Chapter Five
Lexi pulled papers from her briefcase and bit on her lower lip.
That little habit of hers would be the death of him. It was totally provocative and elicited a bone-deep re
sponse from him. It should be his lip she chewed, not her own.
He wanted her. So bad he considered tossing the coffee out of the way, hauling her across the table, onto his lap, and possessing her mouth again. That way, at least he could hold her sweet butt against his cock, which was still rigid and demanding the release he’d ruthlessly suppressed in the elevator.
The pressure did little to relieve the pain of his headache.
His thoughts stretched back to Melbourne. He couldn’t stop them. Their night together had been the most intense experience he’d had in a decade. The sex had been amazing, but it wasn’t the only part that had gotten to him. She’d given herself to him completely, held nothing back.
As a result, he’d done the same.
Which was a bit of a shocker, really, because he never let go anymore. Not with anyone.
When he’d woken to find her spooned against him, still asleep, his gut had churned with emotion he wasn’t ready to acknowledge. Lexi represented everything he no longer believed in. She embodied life and love and hope, and it vibrated through him, straight to that dark place in his heart. That place where hope and dreams had died.
He hadn’t been able to deal with it, nor had he wanted to. So he’d come home to Sydney and left Matt behind to complete the business deal. Back at the office, Genevieve had dealt the killer blow. She told him about the appointment.
One thought had dominated. He’d wanted to see her again as much as he hadn’t wanted to. Right then, he should have canceled or referred her on to Matt. Why hadn’t he?
“You haven’t heard a word, have you?” Lexi raised her voice slightly, forcing his attention back to her. “I’m not sure why you suggested coffee if you’re not really interested in what I have to say.” Her cheeks were still flushed, although her erratic breathing had evened out.
He massaged his forehead and thought about her orgasm in the lift. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s not you—”
“Headache?” she asked.
“Blinding.” Made worse by a serious case of blue balls.
She scratched around in her bag and pulled out a box of painkillers. “Help yourself.”
Grateful, he accepted, drinking two pills down with a gulp of coffee. He wondered if somewhere in her bag she had a cure for a perpetual erection.
“Better?” she asked.
“It will be. Thanks.” He passed the box back to her.
“Look, Mr. Riley—”
“Adam,” he corrected and repressed a smile. “After what we’ve shared, ‘mister’ sounds a little formal.”
“Look…Adam.” The color in her face deepened. “Regardless of what we’ve shared, or of what just happened, I’m only here to discuss the sibling program. I’m honestly not interested in trading insults or arguing with you. Or making reference to…us. Can you handle that? Can we keep this meeting on a strictly professional basis? This project’s too important to waste my time with anything else.”
This time he couldn’t hold back his smile. “Go ahead. You have my full attention.”
For a moment she just stared at him, then she blinked and shook her head. “As I said, the initial letter I sent outlines the basics of the project. This proposal is more detailed.” She pushed a folder to him. “Anything we don’t cover today is mentioned in there. The project will be based at POWS, even though it’s not aimed at the patients. Its primary purpose is to provide support to siblings of children with cancer.”
Adam settled back in his seat. Despite his headache, she had his full attention, and he knew she could see it. Her tone warmed to her subject.
“The siblings are the forgotten victims in the fight against cancer. All focus is put on the sick child, which is understandable. The problem is, the brothers and sisters also experience anxiety and distress, and their needs are often overlooked by parents and caregivers in the struggle to treat the patient.”
The trend wasn’t foreign to him—he knew more than any lay person should need to about childhood cancer.
Lexi continued. “These kids have to adapt to so many new things so quickly, the experience can be overwhelming. Their once-healthy siblings are sick. How are they supposed to cope? Apart from the obvious worry about the sibling, they may also experience associated guilt, guilt that they’re healthy and the sibling’s not. Or there’s the fear that they could get sick, too. They have no control of the situation. They’ve learned the hard way that no one’s invincible.”
“It’s a traumatic lesson,” Adam agreed.
“And there’s so much more,” Lexi said, her voice filled with passion. “They need to learn new patterns of relating to other family members. All the family dynamics change. For example, parents may focus more on the sick child, neglecting the healthy sibling. Or that sibling may suddenly find him or herself looking after younger siblings, or doing the housework, or performing other roles formerly done by the parents.”
She paused and took another sip of her cappuccino. Her eyes settled on his face. “How’s your head?”
He nodded, surprised. “A little better, actually.”
“Good.” She smiled and got straight back to business. “These kids have no outlet for their new emotions and anxieties. Their parents are involved with the sibling. The sibling is often too ill to speak to, and their friends can’t comprehend what they’re going through. Where do they turn? Who do they talk to?”
“There are counselors at the hospital, social workers and psychologists like yourself. Surely it’s your role to speak to these children?”
Lexi nodded. “It is and we do. Most times, however, intervention is aimed at the parents and the sick child. Don’t get me wrong. Plenty of siblings receive counseling or are referred to appropriate support groups, and they do well. It’s the ones who slip through the cracks who suffer. Our project targets all the siblings, not just those lucky enough to have already been reached by the system.”
“So what is it exactly you plan to do? Why do you think you can reach these children when others before you haven’t?”
“We intend to identify siblings from the first hospital admission. When a new patient is admitted, notes will be made about siblings and the information sent through to us. When the time is right, a staff member will approach the parents to discuss the possibility of the siblings joining the program.”
“When the time is right?”
“The family’s in crisis. They’d need time to adjust to both the illness and the treatment before we introduce the concept of sibling intervention. We can’t let too much time pass, though. The siblings are in crisis, too, and the sooner we get to them, the better.”
“What will your program offer?”
“It’s a threefold service with a primary focus on counseling and support. We’d also offer education about the disease, maybe even a chance for the kids to meet with the doctors and ask questions that their parents can’t or won’t answer. Finally, the program would give the children a place to go when they don’t know where else to turn.”
“Where would your offices be?”
“Next to the pediatric oncology ward. I have approval from the hospital board to utilize a few empty rooms. We’d convert them into a lounge, a toy room, a counseling room, and an office for the staff members.”
“Who is the ‘we’ you keep referring to?”
“Hospital social workers and nurses who’ve volunteered to help. I still need a full-time person to coordinate and manage the whole project. Someone new. The volunteers can’t give more than a few hours a week of their time. They already have full-time jobs.”
“What about you? This is your baby. Why not see it through?” She’d be good for the job. She knew her stuff, and she obviously had an invested interest in the program. Most of all, she cared.
Lexi laughed. “I’m already employed full-time by the hospital. I’d be able to set a few hours aside each week to help out, but it’s not enough to ensure the program runs smoothly.”
“Why the interest in t
his specific program?” He knew the answer. He knew almost everything about her.
Lexi hesitated. She gave him a wary look then shrugged. “I was once one of these kids. When I was ten, my sister was diagnosed with leukemia.”
“Is she…did she survive?”
“Yeah. She’s one of the lucky ones.”
“What was it like for you, when she was sick?” He shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t find out any more about her, but he couldn’t help himself.
“A year straight from hell,” Lexi said. “I was too young to grasp the severity of the situation. Sarah was sick, my parents were distraught, and the family almost fell apart.” She played with her cup. “I was an emotional wreck, swinging from sad to happy, to angry, to jealous. I had trouble concentrating at school, and apart from my brother, I didn’t have any real support.” She looked him dead in the eye. “I could really have used a little professional help then.”
“What about now?” Did the trauma still haunt her?
“I’ve worked through it. Took a while, though. I would’ve coped better if I’d received intervention when Sarah was first diagnosed.”
“And thus the sibling program?” A project he liked more with every word she spoke. Adam had no doubt his company would give Lexi the necessary sponsorship.
“And thus the sibling program,” she agreed. “POWS can provide a more comprehensive and holistic service if we treat the whole family and not just the patient.”
Lexi cared. She gave a damn about what happened to people, even if she didn’t know them—and she had no trouble showing it.
A sudden sense of claustrophobia overpowered him. He’d seen this side of her at her brother’s exhibition, and he’d liked that she gave a damn. He’d liked it too much. Now it scared him shitless. What if she began to care about him? What if she began to show it? Worse, what if he began to care about her?
He wouldn’t. AJ Riley flew solo. She might be the caring type, but he wasn’t. Not anymore.
The threat of a migraine might have passed, but now his lungs seemed to stop functioning. He couldn’t breathe. His chest closed, and his heart beat jaggedly. Black spots impeded his vision.
