It was like riding a bike. You never really forget what your lover likes.
Peter was like an extension of my own body. That’s how well I knew him. I’d always enjoyed sex with him — in the myriad ways it came — but right now was different. It was completely apart from the role playing we’d enjoyed in his office, different from the times we’d sought physical comfort outside of his office, in my penthouse. I slowly realized, as we ran our hands over each other’s bodies, both of us painfully aroused, that this was the result of two people loving each other inescapably, neither of us interested in fighting what was right anymore. We’d both tried to get out of this at different times, but it was inevitable. We were meant to be together. I didn’t have to guess at it, or analyze it any further. Our bodies had brought us together, but our hearts had just learned how to be together.
We touched each other for the longest time, both of us delighting in how equally we were able to make each other shudder. When he finally did enter me, we had to hold onto each other for dear life, the two of us almost swept away by sensation.
We moved in tandem. We didn’t have to say a single word, our eyes locked on each other the entire time. My body felt as if it had been reunited with its beloved, and my heart felt the same way. What we had was special and undeniable. What we had was forever.
We finished almost simultaneously, a testament to just how in sync we were with each other, and we might’ve slept for a while, exhausted and relieved and in love.
“Why don’t you come back to work for me?” Peter asked, hours later, tracing circles on my back.
“I already told you. I have another job.”
“But what about Paris? We were going to go there to buy up those hotels you lied about.”
I snorted at the memory. “Well, you don’t have to buy them.”
“Too late for that. They’re bought. I wanted them.”
“Then there’s no need for me to go to Paris with you on business,” I said, turning my head to face him. “But maybe when I find out what my benefits are going to be and what kind of vacation time I’m going to be getting, we can go for vacation.”
His face lit up. “Do you mean it? Do you really want to go to Paris with me?”
“Of course I do. I’ve been imagining it since you mentioned it.”
“Then let’s go. Let’s go right away. Right now.”
“Peter, I start my job on Monday. I want to do Paris justice.”
I disappointed him, but I would’ve disappointed myself if I’d not pursued my dreams.
“You know,” he said slyly, “most people would jump at the chance to live their lives without having to report to an office every single day. If you told them they could live the way they wanted to, doing whatever they wanted to do, with all the money they’d ever need, most of them would be grateful to have the opportunity to do so.”
“I’m not most people.”
“I know you’re not. I think I would be gutted if you were. I want you to say yes, to spend all my money and come be my plaything again, but I think part of me would be saddened if you did, if you gave up on what you truly wanted.”
“I mean, there’s nothing wrong with us continuing to play around.” I smiled suggestively, and Peter threw his head back, guffawing at me.
“Gemma Ryan, will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend once more?” he asked. “I’d get down on my knee, but I wouldn’t want you to think I was proposing and run away.”
“I don’t know how much running I’m going to be doing with this leg,” I said. “It still doesn’t feel like it belongs to me quite yet. But I think I’m ready to try again.”
“That’s excellent news,” he said, beaming.
“I think I never stopped loving you, not even when I was certain that I hated you.”
Peter’s face softened, and he kissed me, his stubble scraping my cheek. “I love you, Gemma. I ache for you, now and always. You have my heart. You are my heart.”
I was finally certain that this was my year when I kissed him again. I couldn’t ask for anything more.
###
LAWSON
Chapter One
Nico
He’s coming back to the United States, and I don’t know how to handle this new turn of events. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve known this was coming, that eventually I’d have to face the music and put a few plans into action, but I’d thought—hoped really—that the spoiled Law James would spend at least another ten years chasing tail and being a playboy in Europe.
But no, his father Jack, my boss, my best friend really, suffered a heart episode and his wife Minnie isn’t hearing of him going back to his high-powered, high-stress job.
I can’t say I blame Min, not when the poor woman has had to watch her beloved husband single-handedly run a multibillion-dollar company that happens to have so many offshoots that even I, as acting VP, sometimes have difficulty keeping it all in order.
So yeah, can’t blame her. I just wish they’d given me more than eight hours’ warning before the prodigal himself is set to return to the fold. If I’d known, I would have handed in my resignation and set Jared Fowler up as VP—as Jack and I had always discussed if anything should happen. Of course, it was not as if Jack ever intended on letting me go.
I am a kick-ass VP. I know my job like the back of my hand. I know how to delegate, and more importantly, I don’t cut fucking corners to get what I want.
I just go for it, balls to the wall, and watch the powerful men in my path scramble to get out of the way. I am one hundred percent the best VP ever acquired by The James Conglomerate, and they fucking know it.
That’s why I earn the big bucks. That’s why my boss is willing to give me slack where my son is concerned.
So, yeah, I’m the VP. The one who now has to spend many hours of every day working with Law, the one man I swore never to set my eyes on again. Ever. In this lifetime or the next.
And now I’m stuck.
“Jack, you know this isn’t a good idea.”
I hear a huff on the end of the line and roll my eyes because I can already see his expression. Smug. Satisfied.
“You knew this was coming, Nico. I understood and even agreed with you those first years because I saw what an ass Law was. I agreed that he needed time to grow up. I even understand your need to keep this secret; it’s just…you know this can’t go on.”
I snort at that because he’s right. I always knew this day would come, the day I would have to face my ex and somehow find the strength to stand tall after what he did to me, but as I said, I had planned on pulling a runner.
Now I can’t, and not just because I feel terrible about leaving Jack in the lurch, but because James is my life. I would never leave the company to flounder and fail. And it will, make no mistake.
After Jack collapsed and word got out, we had to scramble to keep things together. Hell, even the board had been gearing up to vote a “no confidence”—and that would have severely weakened us and had investors pulling out left, right, and fucking center.
Nothing spooks an investor like the thought of the Big Cheese taking a fall. And then, I am the VP, and believe it or not, no matter how good I am at my job a lot of men aren’t happy with the thought of a skirt taking over at the helm.
Hence the reason Jack had finally caved and called Law home. We need that son of a bitch at the helm to keep confidence and stop the board from pulling a fast one.
What does it say about society in this century that they’d rather have a no good, useless playboy at the helm than me, a very accomplished VP, who just happens to have a vagina?
Assholes.
“Look, Jack, you know I love you and Min, and that I would do just about anything for you, but this is a bit much. You know exactly what your asshole son did to me and why I don’t want him to be a part of my life.”
Another sigh, this one I know means he is tired and a little shamed because, as much as he loves his son, Jack is no fool. He knows that
Law didn’t just hurt me, he publicly humiliated me. Crushed me in a way that I don’t think I would have survived if not for Brody and his unfailing support.
As a widow and a mother, I have more to think about now than what happened in the past. That doesn’t mean I can stop thinking about it and the very real fear that the minute I lay eyes on that douche I will plant my fist in his crotch.
“Just don’t kill him. I need you all in on this, Nico. He doesn’t have the first fucking clue about running one company…never mind all of our interests, and I can’t…just promise me you will help him keep things afloat. Teach him.”
Yeah, sure. Like he’ll even be interested. The only thing Lawson James knows how to do is gamble, fuck, and party till the sun comes up. Yeah, I read the tabloids; I know what my ex is.
“Fine, but you promised to talk to him. If I say something isn’t happening, he has to at least consider my expert opinion. I’ve worked too hard to see James fall because Lawson is a cocky little brat.”
That gets me a laugh that soon turns to a wheeze, and I hear Minnie on the other side, admonishing us both.
“I think you will be surprised by Law. He’s not as vapid as you’ve convinced yourself he’ll be, Nico. He’s my son; he was raised right—even if he’s taken the wrong path of late. Once he’s got a purpose, he’ll be good. You’ll see.”
“Yeah, sure. You get some rest now, old man. I plan on insulting you for many years to come, so stop worrying and let the rest of us minions take care of things.”
“I love you, Nico.”
“Yeah, yeah. Me too.”
Going back to work proves harder than usual, but they don’t call me Cy for nothing. It’s short for cyborg and a running office joke that most don’t know I’m aware of. I’m cool with it since I couldn’t give a rat’s ass what they all think.
I’m in the middle of nailing together a plan B for a cell phone company we just acquired—poor baby was going under from bad marketing—when my door burst open and in walked my very own worst nightmare.
And by nightmare, I’m not talking about that weird “I think I’m scared” shit that most people have, but the kind where some machete-wielding psycho is gaining on your ass and in the midst of taking a swipe at your body parts.
That kinda nightmare. Only this one is in over-the-top sexy clothes and so drop-dead hunkalicious that I feel my nether bits pop up for a quick look-see and a lot of hooraying.
Fortunately for me, I know how to control my hormones around Hannibal Lecter, so instead of seeing six four of buff, muscled perfection, golden-blond hair that falls just so over his forehead, and piercing, panty-dropping blue eyes, all I see is my arch nemesis.
Thank you, baby Jesus.
No way in hell will I ever revert back to that stupid young woman who’d allowed herself to fall prey to Lawson. It’s been ten years of bitterness that I have diligently festered and the pipe dream of never seeing him again.
So yeah, Mr. GQ is now standing in my doorway, staring at me with a flirtatious smile that makes my nails want to claw his face off, and all I can think is, damn, the man is all kinds of sexy.
With an effort, I kill my temper and decimate the stupid fool inside that’s screaming at me to jump on that, and I give him a raised brow, the exact same one I give to my son Cody when he’s out of line.
“Lawson.”
My use of his name and the deadpan tone seems to give him pause, and I almost cheer when his eyes blink for a few seconds before the cocky bastard closes the door and turns to me with a wide smile.
“Nic. You look great, babe.”
“That’s Mrs. Sharp.”
Chapter Two
Law
Fuck me, but that woman is still as gorgeous now as she was a decade ago. All that caramel-colored hair and those eyes…she’s the reason my favorite color’s blue.
Even now, ten years after the fact, I look for women with the same color eyes, and every time, they turn out to be a shade lighter—or most times, not even close—and I’m disappointed.
Turns out that dumping the best thing that ever happened to me to live the life I wanted hadn’t brought me a whole lot of happiness. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been plenty happy being free and living my life by no one else’s rules but my own, but Nicolette Gr-Sharp will always be that one regret—because to gain my freedom, I had to drop the one woman for whom I truly felt something.
And now it seems that my plans of returning and maybe striking up a hot romance with the delectable lady are crushed. She’s married? Mrs. Sharp? Well fuck!
I pull my head out of my ass, just as Mrs. Sharp rises from her seat and breezes past me. She snatches a frame from the table beside me and scrambles back to her desk.
The damn frame is clutched so tightly in her fist I wonder what has her so skittish, but hell, I don’t really care. Truth is, I haven’t really cared about a damn thing in years, and odds are, that I won’t care for some time to come.
Okay that’s not true; I care about Dad and Mom and the future of the company. Not that I want to run this old shipwreck, hell no, but the company has been my destiny since the day I was born, and Dad had warned me expressly that I would one day have to return to run it.
That was the deal. I got ten years to live as I wanted, and then I had to return to take up the yoke. Granted, I’ve had a little over ten years. Dad gave me an extra six months, but unfortunately, he couldn’t keep it up and collapsed. So here I am, ready and willing to take up a responsibility I never wanted.
Although…with a hot ticket item like Nico at my side, I just may be open to all sorts of overtime.
“So, you’re married, huh?”
I battle down pure…? I don’t know what that emotion is. I walk further into her plush office, taking a seat and attempting to settle the feelings surging through me.
I find that I don’t quite like the thought of my Nico being tied to another.
She doesn’t answer, just raises her left hand to show me a huge rock sitting on her finger, and bile churns in my gut. Dammit! Why do I feel this way when just two nights ago I was buried in a hot woman named Contessa, not caring about anything but what I could get out of the foxy sexpot?
I haven’t allowed myself to think of Nico in a really long time, and that had worked for me just fine. I can’t regret shit if I don’t allow it to intrude, right?
Seems now I can’t escape it, and just thinking of what I did, for the first time in a long time, I feel ten shades of shitty and a lot of regret. A lot.
“Nice rock, Nic. So tell me, what are you hiding there?”
Her face flushes before leeching of all color and going a sickly shade of pale green. Then she growls, rips open her desk drawer, drops the fame in, and shoves it closed with a bang.
“None of your business. Now then, we should discuss your role.”
I smirk and cock a brow at her, feeling my insides go hard at the commanding tone. Nico has always been a take-charge sorta woman, and while that revs my engine in a big way—always has—I have no intention of letting her, the VP, control anything I do from here on out.
This is my show now.
“My role…let’s see. I’m taking over, so I suppose my role would be all round Big Dick,” I say, enjoying the way her eyes stretch just before her face colors and she gets that pinched look.
Yeah, I am very familiar with that look. Nico, when we were together, had been my one and only—until she’d started putting pressure on me to toe the line and do what my parents wanted me to do.
At twenty-two, I was just starting to live, and no matter how sexy, smart, or sassy my girl had been, I wasn’t about to lock myself down to please her.
Don’t think about that, Law. Just focus on the here and now. The rest is in the past where it belongs.
“Lawson—”
“Nic. Whatever you have in mind, you can get it right out of that pretty little head of yours. You’re a great VP, and one of the youngest women to take on the role, but don�
��t think for a second that I’m taking orders from you. I’m the CEO all the way.”
And yeah, I can see how much she hates that idea when her jaw locks and she gets the same mutinous expression I remember seeing so many times before.
God help me, the woman is magnificent and…. Stop, Law! Getting a hard-on while you’re laying down the law for your old flame is not professional.
“That may be, Lawson, but you need to be brought up to speed on the job. We’re currently in negotiations with—”
“I’ve studied everything Dad sent me. I know what’s going on, Nic, and I have every intention of running this place the same way my dad did—with one exception. You’re VP only. Any decisions go through me first, and that’s an order.”
She doesn’t like that, not if the tightening of her lips is anything to go by, and I almost laugh when she takes a deep breath, as if she is looking for patience before nodding once, picking up a folder, and tossing the heavy pile of papers onto the edge of her desk.
“That’s a deal I’ve been working on to buy out Smith & Sons, a little mom-and-pop construction company that runs out of the Queens area. We’re looking to incorporate—”
I let her continue, zoning out enough to appreciate her beauty from afar. Jesus, she’s more beautiful now than she was at nineteen—if that’s even possible—and I find myself not caring one wit that she’s married.
I want her, and God help me, I don’t know if I can work that closely with her without making a play. I still remember everything about her, from her vanilla scent, to the way her skin glistened with dewy sweat after sex, to the way she tasted between her legs.
In all the years I’ve pursued and screwed other women, I have yet to find one who tastes as good as my Nic does.
And there goes my imagination.
In the blink of an eye, I see my buttoned-up, prim little Nic spread out over her desk, her skirt hiked up around her waist, as I sit in her chair and bury my head between her golden thighs.
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