Oui: A BWWM Romance (The French Connection Book 1)

by Brooklyn Knight

  “So you believe that by having this conversation with me, you somehow jeopardize that?”

  “Yes.”

  I stared at her, now even more curious and intrigued. I leaned in, my elbows resting on the table, my gaze grabbing her. “Let’s pretend for a moment.”

  “Pretend?”

  I nodded. “Let’s pretend that you’re not the intern and that I’m not Dylan Hamilton...”

  She recoiled. “I don’t know that it’s appropriate for me to pretend any such thing, Mr. Hamilton.”

  “Dylan,” I corrected her quickly. “Go with me, just for a second,” I urged. “Pretend you’re at a business conference. You’re wearing that suit; the one with the jacket that flares over your waist.”

  She moistened her lips. “The gray one?”

  “Yeah.”

  Our eyes were locked.

  “You look across the packed room and you see me standing there. I’m looking at you and you immediately sense that I’m infatuated with you.”

  “Infatuated?” She narrowed her eyes.

  “Absolutely.” I lowered my voice and leaned closer. “I cross the room, heading in your direction, never once taking my eyes off you. Now, we’re standing in front of each other. What do you do?”

  Laila inhaled, tugging at the bow of her necktie blouse. She shifted in her seat. “Dylan, I am not the kind of woman who seduces her bosses or is even attracted to them.”

  “I never assumed that you were,” I replied. “What do you do?”

  Her eyes glittered under the lighting as she gazed at me. They softened, and a small smile creased the corners of her lips. “I look away,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I can’t handle your intensity,” she admitted. “Like in the boardroom on the day of the shadow, or whenever I bump into you in the halls. You’re electric. I melt when I’m in your presence.”

  My heart lurched. “So you feel it too?” I whispered.

  “Yeah.” Laila closed her eyes and drew in a ragged breath, wringing her hands. Her eyes popped open. “What the hell are we saying? We shouldn’t be having this conversation. You’re my boss. I’m the intern. Your girlfriend would slay me.”

  “This has nothing to do with my ex.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she objected. “We need to stop talking about this. I appreciate your admiration. You already know that I hold you in high esteem. You’re one of the most influential businessmen on the west coast, and to know that you believe in me in a professional, well, that is all I need from you. Respectfully, of course.”

  I stared at her, my mouth going dry. I pulled myself back and nodded.

  “Of course,” I agreed.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dylan

  ‘I’m Rich’

  At the end of the night, I pulled up outside of Laila’s apartment. We were sitting quietly, staring ahead into the darkness, yet neither of us reaching for the door.

  The conversation wasn’t over.

  Despite what Laila had said about not wanting to discuss the topic, I could read through her. Her imagination had run wild. Thoughts of what she would’ve done if things were different were taking over her mind. I had come too far to let the topic drop. Intrigue and curiosity had put me on autopilot and there was no way I could leave it alone.

  I cracked the silence. “I enjoyed your company tonight,” I said, looking at my fingernails.

  “Me too.”

  I huffed and turned in the driver’s seat, reaching across the gear. I touched her hand sensually and a shock of electricity made me wince. Laila trembled, but she didn’t pull away. I ran my rough fingertips against hers and the small measure of friction made me drunk with desire.

  “Laila, I don’t think you understand how much I want you,” I said.

  “What about all those things we talked about at the restaurant, Dylan?”

  “None of it matters,” I said.

  “It does matter.”

  I exhaled. “Listen, I understand your fears.”

  “You have no idea what my fears are.”

  “I do,” I insisted. “I was where you are once, trying to make a name for myself, trying to make my way up the corporate ladder. I know how important this time is, but I was honest with you. I was hoping that you’d have been honest with me.”

  Laila looked at me as the headlights of passing cars sliced through the dark, tinted car windows and made us glow.

  “Okay, I’ll admit it.” She pulled her hands out of mine. “I think you’re amazing.” Her eyes glistened. “You’re gifted, you inspire me; you’re everything any woman would want. I’ve seen you in magazines and textbooks. I see your portrait every day I come into the office; but when I saw you in the flesh...” She trailed off, chuckling to herself.

  The silence that dropped threatened to crush us.

  “I’m flattered.”

  “As if you’ve never been that before.”

  “Coming from you it’s different,” I said, pausing. “So what does it mean? What are you saying?”

  “All I’m saying is that I feel what you’re feeling,” she said, “and perhaps we’re on the same page about some things. But you’re taboo, Dylan, so despite what you say or think, you’re right: none of it matters.”

  “I ended my relationship with Emily because I wasn’t happy,” I told her, “but I wasn’t happy before I met you. And then I see you, and we start talking, and I realized there was something else out there. Something else that actually made me smile.”

  She turned her face away from mine.

  “Laila, I know you’re afraid of me – of this,” I said gesturing between us, “but tonight, spending time with you has been incredible and I want to connect with you so badly,” I mumbled. “You’re not a crutch, I promise. Just... let me touch you. I promise it’ll just be this once.”

  Our faces drew closer.

  “Dylan...” she called my name, but it only stoked the fire.

  Our noses touched. Her eyes were poised on my mouth. My chest rose and fell and her lips, lacquered with soft, pink gloss; they blushed and quivered. I gently caught her bottom lip with a tender kiss and her eyes flew closed. Then she turned away from me, denying me access.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered, our faces still close.

  “We can’t do this Dylan. Neither you nor I can afford to do this.” Her words penetrated my brain the way water did a duck’s back.

  “That bottle of wine was three-thousand dollars,” I said. “I can afford anything.” I touched her face, my fingers lightly tracing her jawline, and we kissed again. It lasted longer, but not long enough.

  “Please don’t do this to me,” she begged. “You may be rich, but I’m not and I cannot afford you.”

  “I won’t hurt you,” I promised.

  Her eyes hardened. “There is no way you can guarantee that,” she asserted.

  My eyebrows crowded.

  “I told you, I am not that woman. You’re my boss. I operate with a high level of integrity, and there is no way I am willing to jeopardize this internship for anyone. Not even you.”

  I sat back in my seat and closed my eyes, willing my emotions and anatomy to cool off. The last thing I needed was a ‘Me Too’ situation, yet the torture was unbearable.

  “You’re right,” I muttered, ashamed. “I need to leave this alone and have more self-control. I came on too strongly and I apologize. I’ve been wrong tonight.”

  Her bottom lip trembled, and she shut her mouth. Her eyelashes fluttered as she turned to the car door, pushing it open.

  I huffed and got out of the car, following her to the edge of her apartment door. I stood silently, my hands shoved deep into my pockets. There was only one thing they were itching to do and if a kiss was off-limits, anything else was definitely out of the question.

  She turned to face me from her open doorway, fidgeting with her keys.

  “Well...”

  I rocked back and forth on my heels. “Well...”r />
  “I guess we can call our conversation tonight an inside joke between the two of us.” She smiled.

  “You mean our little secret,” I said. “This is hardly a joke for me, Laila.”

  Her smile faded, and she pulled the door further open. “I’ll see you on Monday. Thank you for the wonderful evening.”

  I smiled. “The pleasure was all mine,” I said, and I watched as she disappeared behind the door.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Laila

  ‘Behind the Door’

  I closed the door, leaving Dylan on the welcome mat, and then I stood there, frozen, staring at the natural lines etched in the oak. My breathing was labored. I couldn’t catch my breath. I put my hand over my breast, not surprised to find my heart pulsating like it was going to come out of my chest.

  I replayed scenes of the night over and over in my head, trying to identify the point at which everything had gone spiraling out of control.

  Had I known the CEO was attracted to me?

  From the very first meeting the electricity of our exchange was potent. There was an indescribable heat and intensity in the smallest interaction, but I thought it’d just been me. Now I could see that it went both ways. I had something that he wanted. The question was, would he get it?

  There could only be one answer, I determined, yet I was still staring at the door.

  Dylan was my boss and he had just ended his relationship with another woman, and whether he had been happy had nothing to do with me. He was on the rebound and wanted to use me as his outlet, to get over Emily. That’s what I wanted to believe, but how could I explain the look in his eyes or the genuineness of his words? It was like he connected with my dreams. It was as if he understood the deepest parts of me.

  I shuddered and leaned on the door, placing my hands on the thick wood. I let my fingers run across the oak until my fingerprints matched the impressions. I could still feel his pulsating energy. My insides were disintegrating as I thought about the way his mouth had captured mine behind the tinted windows of his luxury vehicle. My body was hot and throbbing. Electric shocks zipped through me, landing in the core of my femininity. I pressed my cheek on the door and pretended again. This time, I pretended that I had been open to him tonight. I could still smell the tantalizing scent of his cologne. I wanted Dylan Hamilton and I couldn’t deny it.

  Maybe he hadn’t left yet.

  Maybe...

  Without thinking, I ripped the door open and when I saw him standing there, my breath caught in my lungs.

  His eyes rose slowly, and the fire burning behind them scorched me to the core. Dylan stepped inside and slammed the door closed. In an instant, he shrugged out of his blazer and lifted me off the ground. My skirt hoisted up and my legs wrapped around his body as he pressed a firm, salacious kiss on my mouth. His lips fell to my neck and my head fell back. He sucked and licked my tingling skin, forcing moans of pleasure from deep inside of me.

  With one hand, he pulled open my shirt, exposing the delicate lace of my bra, and his long fingers toyed with the edge before he pulled my throbbing nipple from underneath. His neck bent, and he captured my breast in his warm mouth. His other hand, which had secured my bottom, squeezed my ample cheeks, causing a delightful mix of pain and pleasure.

  I grabbed his face, kissing him vehemently, but I wanted more from him.

  Unleashed passion caused him to stumble backwards and we collapsed on the couch.

  I undid his Gucci belt and unzipped his pants to release his strong, throbbing erection. He hovered over me, touching me expertly. His fingers entering my warm body produced a constellation of stars on the ceiling of my apartment. He moved me to the edge of the couch and dropped to his knees, spreading my legs gently. Then he put his mouth on my treasure. His hot, minty breath was like a blanket on a winter evening. He sucked and licked until I thought I would lose my mind. I held his head firmly in place, raking my fingers through his blonde hair, pulling at the golden strands. My hands traveled down his thick neck to his strong shoulders, and my nails scraped across his back.

  He nuzzled and groaned on my sensitive jewel sending vibrations through my entire body.

  “Dylan...” My voice was raspy and unrecognizable.

  His head shot up in response. An erotic and desperate glint was in his eyes. “Say my name again,” he demanded.

  I examined his face in the darkness. I could see him. Emotion brimmed in his eyes. His skin was flushed and hot. He stared at me.

  It wasn’t lust.

  It was something else.

  “Dylan.” I whispered more forcefully this time, my eyelashes fluttering wildly.

  He groaned in approval, climbing on top of me.

  I wrapped my legs around his waist pulling him into me, hungry, thirsty for what he would give.

  “Say it again,” he grunted.

  “Dylan!”

  He plunged into my secret cavern with a pleasant force unlike anything I had ever experienced. My eyes shot open at the sensation and my body jolted under his touch.

  “Don’t stop calling my name,” he ordered, though he didn’t need to issue the command. Each stroke was stronger and more direct than the first. He was Robin Hood and with each stimulating arrow, he was tearing apart my bull’s eye, ripping it to shreds. Arrow after arrow was smashing into my most tender spot. I screamed his name, unable to maintain my composure. I cried tears of complete ecstasy as he pumped and drove himself deeper inside me. My sheath was wrapped around him like a glove, and I could hear his guttural groan.

  He crawled further onto me, climbing lower into my molten abyss, his fingers entwined in my tresses, causing waves of intense pleasure to course through my body. I vibrated under his comprehensive and authoritative manipulation, and Dylan cursed in one ragged breath. He covered my mouth urgently as the apex of our lovemaking hit us simultaneously. My mouth opened as he thrust his tongue deep. My eyes rolled back and soon we were sprawled on the couch, completely intertwined, staring at nothing. Our chests heaved while our pulses regulated

  Dylan showered my face and neck with affectionate kisses. The feel of his mouth on my body sent shivers cascading through me all over again. I held his face, wanting more of him already. I had never experienced anything like him, and I began to wonder how the hell I was going to learn to live without it.

  He peered at me in the darkness and ran his knuckles across my cheek. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised in a whisper.

  “I don’t want promises from you, Dylan,” I said shaking my head. “I’m not looking for a relationship. I know that’s unrealistic, but that’s not what I want.”

  His mouth bunched.

  “The only thing I want you to promise is that what happened tonight won’t affect my professional goals,” I added.

  He kissed my face and my neck, and then he dotted a line of kisses along my jaw. My eyes fluttered.

  “I promise, ma belle fille,” he whispered.

  I smiled hearing his sweet words, and soon, he was initiating round two.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ryder

  ‘A Little Complicated’

  I adjusted my tie as I prepared to meet with Mr. Hamilton about the project. Things were going smoothly. We had passed the proposal stage and now we were going to get the ball rolling. As the project lead, he had called me into the office to discuss the details.

  I looked through the mirror to see Laila sitting in her cubicle, typing on the computer. The gulf between us had widened and the feud was more intense than ever. I was tired of fighting with her. In fact, my anger had waned significantly. Every morning she arrived at work looking more enticing than the morning before. The only thing I could think about was the weekend I had her in my arms.

  So close and still so far away.

  I pulled the tie up to my neck, almost choking myself. “I have a meeting with Mr. Hamilton,” I mumbled, fixing the collar of my shirt.

  “Okay,” Katelyn responded. She looked at me
and smiled.

  I smiled back but glanced at Laila. “Laila, did you hear me?”

  “Yeah, okay,” she said, but she didn’t look up.

  I inhaled, tugging on my fitted suit jacket. “And then I’m going to lunch,” I announced.

  Katelyn’s mouth drew into a straight line.

  Laila’s eyes rose. “Okay...”

  I headed for the door, but then I turned to look at her. “Laila, I’m trying,” I said with a shrug. “I’m really trying.”

  “Trying to what?” She stopped typing and stared at me.

  I glared back, not knowing the answer or how to express what I was feeling without looking like a jackass. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I just thought that maybe you wanted me to grab something for you. I don’t know... maybe you were hungry or something.”

  “I’m fine,” she assured me. “I have plans for lunch.”

  I stared at her, wanting to say something more, but realizing anything I said would be misinterpreted or used against me.

  “Fine,” I said swinging the door open.

  I headed through the corridors and hopped into the elevator, then I waited patiently as it whizzed up to the 34th floor. When I arrived, I approached Mr. Hamilton’s secretary and let her know about the meeting.

  She smiled and instructed me to go right in. “He’s waiting for you,” she said.

  I nodded and approached the imposing door, but before I could knock, Mr. Hamilton’s voice boomed from the other side beckoning me inside. I walked into the mammoth office, trying not to ogle at the surroundings. An open door revealed an en-suite bathroom, complete with tub and shower and a minibar, generously stocked with fine wines and spirits, flanked the left side. Behind his commanding desk, an expansive panoramic window offered a view of the magnificent skyline.