Connectivity

by Aven Ellis

  Oh. My. God. My heart is pounding as I take in Danielle’s words.

  “Isn’t that fabulous?” Danielle says, continuing. “Mr. Cumberland said he had a conversation about it in London with someone who had never truly been encouraged and supported to pursue that career dream. He said he felt it was something he was called to do for girls in every city where he has company offices.”

  I rapidly blink away tears as I realize what Danielle is saying. William did this because of me. He is doing this for girls like me.

  I can’t even speak. The lump in my throat is huge and I can barely swallow.

  “You know, MK, on second thought, I’ll just shoot him an email. Have a good weekend!” Danielle says.

  “You, too,” I manage to get out before hanging up the phone.

  Heart pounding, I put down the phone and glance at William’s office. He did this for me. And he wasn’t even going to say anything about it. William wasn’t going to impress me with this by drawing attention to it, or say, “Look what I am doing because of you, Mary-Kate.” No. William had done this from his heart.

  And just like that, I know.

  William has never talked about a future beyond now. He hasn’t told me he loves me. We have only been together a month, and almost half of that time we have been on different continents.

  But with William—William who is so cautious, William who speaks more with actions than with words, just told me, without saying a single word, everything I need to know.

  I get up and walk toward his office. I pause in the doorway. He is bent over reading a document, his crisp white dress shirt open at the neck, his dark waves even more unruly due to humidity in the air from the impending spring storm that is headed our way.

  He has his silver pen to his full lips, totally engrossed in reading. William doesn’t even know I’m watching him.

  I step through the doorway and shut the door behind me.

  William looks up and furrows his brow.

  “William,” I say softly, “I’m ready.”

  He taps the pen against his lips and goes back to his contract. “Give me a few more minutes and I’ll then I’ll be ready to finalize that presentation. I want to finish this contract first.”

  “I am ready to sleep with you.”

  William’s head snaps right up. He drops the pen from his hand, his eyes widen in complete shock.

  “Sorry?” he says, his beautiful blue eyes searching mine as my words sink in.

  “William,” I say gently, staring at this man I love with all my heart, “I want to be with you. Tonight.”

  William stares at me, surprise etched all over the most gorgeous face I have ever seen. He stands up and rakes both hands through his hair, causing the waves to shift sexily all over the place.

  God, I cannot wait to make love to him.

  “Tonight,” he says slowly.

  “Tonight,” I say firmly.

  Then I see it. The surprise in his stunning eyes is replaced with intense desire.

  William walks over to me. He glances toward his windows, and the blinds are open, so I know he won’t touch me. But I can tell he is desperate to.

  “Mary-Kate,” he whispers, standing in front of me, “are you sure? Really sure?”

  “Yes,” I whisper back to him, “I am absolutely sure.”

  William simply stares at me for a moment. God, if those blinds were closed I’d seriously consider having him take me on his desk. I am that desperate to make love to this man.

  “Well, Ms. Grant,” William says, and I can see a gleam come into his eyes. “In light of the present situation, I believe it would be most appropriate if we finished the presentation on Monday.”

  “Indeed,” I say, smiling at him. “In fact, Mr. Cumberland, I think it would be most appropriate if you take me home to Penthouse 57 right now.”

  “Give me five minutes,” William says.

  I smile at him and leave his office. I save what I am working on and undock my iPad, my heart slamming against my ribs the entire time. I gather up my things and wait for William.

  A few minutes later, he’s ready. My heart is pounding as we walk out together. Since it is already past six o’clock, most people are gone for the weekend. I keep a good distance from him, so it just looks like we are walking out together to the elevator and then going on our own separate ways.

  A couple of other people are on the elevator as we step on. Of course, anytime William is around, people want to talk to him, to get face time with the most powerful man in communications. I listen as William responds, his answers short and to the point. I know it is because he is desperate to get out of here, just like I am.

  Finally, we hit the lobby. We had decided earlier today that we would simply walk from Collective Media Enterprises back to his place, but now dark storm clouds are rolling in from Lake Michigan and as we step outside, the air smells of a spring storm that is about to hit.

  And just as I step on to the sidewalk, huge drops of rain begin falling from the ominous clouds.

  “I’ll get a cab,” William says, stepping toward the curb.

  The rain is now beginning to fall.

  “No.” I smile at him. “Let’s make a run for it.”

  “Mary-Kate, are you mad? You’ll get soaked!”

  There is a crack of thunder and umbrellas pop open all around us. People scurry for cover or stick hands up for cabs, and the temperature continues to drop as the storm moves over downtown Chicago.

  “I don’t want to waste time in a cab when it is faster to get home this way,” I say smartly. And as the skies open up, and rain just begins to pour, I run down Michigan Avenue, toward his street.

  I turn and look over my shoulder, and William has the biggest smile on his face. And just like that, William Cumberland, ultra serious to the rest of the world badass mogul William Cumberland, is running after me in the rain.

  He catches me, of course, and pulls me around so I can see him. I am stunned, as his hands are now on my waist. Oh my God, we are both drenched, and never, ever, ever has he looked sexier than he does at this moment. An errant curl drops down across his forehead; his crisp white shirt is now soaked and clinging to his chest.

  “I don’t bloody care if anyone sees this,” William says, raking his hands through my hair and pulling my mouth to his in a hungry kiss.

  Oh Jesus. His mouth is moving over mine, and here we are, in the middle of a downpour, kissing on Michigan Avenue.

  He breaks the kiss and I am breathing hard. William wraps his hand over mine and we run down the street, anxious to get back to Penthouse 57.

  Finally we make it. We dash up the building steps, greet the doorman who holds open the door for us, and we both try to catch our breath as the elevator attendant provides us access to William’s level. He wishes us a good evening as the doors open, and we step inside.

  The doors close. We are alone. I stare at William, and I am breathing hard. So is he. And as the elevator begins to ascend to the 57th floor, my heart rate does, too.

  “I want you,” William gasps, taking me in his arms and pressing me up against the elevator wall. “I want you desperately.”

  William is kissing me again, his mouth urgently seeking mine. My senses are in frantic overload. I feel his wet body pressed against me. The scent of him is intoxicating—a combination of rain-soaked skin and pine cologne. His hands are on my face, then down my neck, then to my waist, then back up to my hair.

  “I want you so much,” I murmur against his mouth.

  A moan escapes his lips in response and he kisses me harder.

  The doors open and we are stumbling out, kissing and grabbing at each other until we get to the door. William thrusts the key into the lock, opens the door, and we drop our bags in the foyer as we continue
to kiss and touch and make our way into the living room.

  Suddenly William abruptly stops kissing me and puts his hands on my arms, holding me.

  “Are you sure, Mary-Kate?” William asks, breathing hard. “I want you to be sure. We can’t go back if we do this.”

  I fight for breath and I see nothing but concern in his blue eyes. Once again, he is putting me first. Wanting to make sure I was absolutely certain in the decision to have sex tonight.

  “I,” I say, fighting back tears, “have never been more sure of anything, William. Please make love to me.”

  William responds by kissing me. Frantic, desperate, pent-up desire-for-months kisses. I begin to unbutton his shirt, my hands trembling as I do so.

  We are kissing as we move down the hallway, and I have his shirt unbuttoned. I yank it off him as we make it into his bedroom. I run my hands over his sculpted shoulders, down to his glorious chest, hardly believing he is mine to touch tonight.

  William reaches for my cardigan. He begins tugging it off, and I help him as we enter his room. We are still walking, kissing passionately, and I slide my sweater shell over my head as he moves me toward the bed.

  I watch as his chest rises and falls the second he sees me in my black lace bra. I swallow nervously as he reaches around and slowly unhooks the clasp.

  William raises his hands to my shoulders and gently takes my bra off, sensually easing the straps down my arms, his fingertips grazing my skin. He lets my bra fall to the floor.

  I watch as William draws a breath as he sees me for the first time.

  “My God,” he whispers, his eyes growing soft, “you are more beautiful than I even dared to dream.”

  Then his mouth is on mine, his hands caressing my face as he pulls my body into his.

  We fall back onto the bed, our wet bodies entangled together. I grab his wet hair and he is now kissing my neck.

  “Do I need,” William murmurs against my neck, “to use something?”

  “No,” I say, lifting his head back so I can look into his eyes. “I’m on the pill.”

  “Okay,” he whispers, lowering his lips back to my neck.

  Oh God. I close my eyes, lost in him, lost in this moment of feeling his body pressed against me, of his hands exploring me for the first time, of his kisses claiming me as his own.

  And as the rain pounded against his bedroom window on this April evening, I give everything I am to William Cumberland.

  Chapter 26

  “Did you notice,” William says slowly, linking his fingers through mine as we lay facing each other in bed, “that it has stopped raining?”

  I feel my heart flutter as I gaze into his beautiful blue eyes. The eyes of the man whom I’ve just made love to for the first time.

  “No, I did not,” I say honestly. I smile happily at him. “But I have been rather preoccupied with a certain gorgeous, insanely sexy British man to have noticed the rain has stopped.”

  And that is a complete understatement.

  What we just shared—oh, my God—it was passionate and hot, yet very emotional, too. Because when we made love, I felt this utter sense of connection—both emotional and physical—to William that I have never felt in my entire life.

  “I’ve lived like a bloody monk forever,” he whispers, his eyes burning into mine, “and I would do it all over again to be with you like this, Mary-Kate.”

  I love you. My eyes fill with tears as I stare at the man I have just given everything to. I love you so much, William.

  “William,” I say, my voice shaky, “I . . . I have never experienced anything like this before.”

  “Me, neither,” William says, caressing the side of my face with his hand. He leans forward and brushes his lips against mine. “Stay with me,” he murmurs against my lips. “Stay the weekend here with me.”

  We kiss again. I slide my hand to the back of his neck, caressing his damp, wavy hair with my fingers as we kiss slowly and sweetly.

  Then I tilt his head back so I can look into his eyes. “I find it most appropriate that I stay here with you this weekend.”

  I smile at him and he bursts out laughing.

  “Well, I am glad you are agreeable to that suggestion, Mary-Kate.”

  We both laugh and then William rolls onto his back, bringing me with him. I lay my head down on his chest, and I feel his fingers raking through my hair.

  “I don’t have any clothes,” I say aloud, thinking of my wet sweater and pencil skirt that are on his bedroom floor.

  “Don’t worry, you won’t need them,” William quips.

  I push myself up, and see that his mouth is curved up in a wicked, sexy smile.

  “Oh, is that so?” I tease.

  William acts like he is thinking that over. “Do you need clothing? Hmmm. No. I prefer that you wear none.”

  “William!” I cry, laughing. “I have to be dressed at some point!”

  “Why?”

  “William!”

  “All right, if you insist, I shall get you clothing.”

  “What? No, we can just dry mine and run over to my apartment. I can pack a bag.”

  “No,” William says.

  “No?” I ask, confused. “Why on earth not?”

  “That,” William says, running his fingertips suggestively up and down my arm, “requires leaving this penthouse tonight and I am not interested in that. What size do you wear?”

  I furrow my brow. “Size 4, and how are you getting me clothes?”

  William gently rolls me to the side of him and then reaches down to the floor. I prop myself up so I can see and he’s reaching in his pants pocket. He whips out his iPhone and draws me next to him, into the crook of his arm, and holds as he goes through his phone.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, watching as he swipes through his contacts.

  “Hold on,” William says, touching a contact and putting his phone to his ear. “Yes, this is William Cumberland, and I need some outfits delivered tonight . . . No, not for me . . . For a stunning redhead, size 4 . . . Get something casual to start . . . let me ask her . . .” William pauses and looks at me. “What size jeans do you wear?”

  “27,” I say, staring at him in complete amazement.

  “27 . . .” he continues. “I need pajamas, yoga pants, hoodie, T-shirt . . . athletic shoes . . . Right, let me ask.” William again turns to me. “Shoe size?”

  Oh my God, this is unreal.

  “Uh, six and a half.”

  William goes back to his phone and dictates casual outfits, shoes, one formal dress and heels, underwear, asks me what my bra size is, what beauty products I need, and instructs the person he is talking to that he wants it delivered by 9 p.m. tonight. Then he hangs up.

  “William!” I gasp. “What did you just do?”

  William puts his phone onto his nightstand. “I called my personal shopper,” he says simply, as if this is an ordinary thing to do. “She’s going to have everything sent over once she’s done.”

  I sit up and stare at him, stunned. “I . . . My God, I really do forget you are William Cumberland and things like this just . . . happen. You make a phone call to one person and you have everything delivered right when you want it.” I study him, my beautiful man with his dark hair against the white pillowcase. I reach over and gently stroke his hair. “To me you are always William first. Just William.”

  William takes my hand and gently places it over his heart.

  “I know that, darling,” he whispers, his eyes never leaving mine as he squeezes my hand. “And that means everything to me, Mary-Kate. Everything.”

  Oh God! He just called me darling. I mean, I know that is a British term of endearment but to hear him call me that . . . My heart is melting.

  And as I look at this
man, this gorgeous man who is giving me everything I have ever wanted and more, I really want to make love to him again.

  But I have a question for him first.

  “Why did you request a dress and heels?”

  William sits up and cups his hands on my face. “I want to take you out tomorrow night. For dinner. That’s kind of my thing, you know.”

  I gasp. “But . . . what if someone sees us?”

  William continues stroking my face. “I don’t care. I don’t want to be in bloody hiding. I want to be with you. I want to go places with you. I want . . . ” He pauses, a worried look crossing his gorgeous face. “Unless . . . unless you don’t want that, Mary-Kate.”

  I immediately wrap my hands over his. “No, I don’t care. People are already talking, William. I might as well enjoy dinner with my badass mogul if they are going to talk anyway.”

  He smiles and presses his forehead against mine. “I’m glad you feel that way. Let’s go to the restaurant at the Peninsula Hotel. We can have drinks in the bar afterward. Like we did before. When I wanted to kiss you but I didn’t dare.”

  “You . . . wanted me then?”

  William cocks an eyebrow. “My darling, I have always wanted you. I just wasn’t sure you wanted me in the same way.”

  Holy shit. I really can’t believe this, I really can’t.

  “I did,” I say, smiling at him. “So you have most inappropriately wasted a lot of time by not kissing me sooner.”

  William laughs and so do I.

  “Then I think it is most appropriate that I rectify that immediately,” William says, brushing his lips against mine.

  Okay, now I really want to have sex with him again.

  “Are you hungry?” William asks after breaking the kiss.

  I think about it. “Yes,” I say, omitting the fact that I would rather have him again than dinner.