by S. L. Scott
Reegan checks his watch then looks to one of his associates. “You’re the ultimate winner if he accepts this deal. That company could go under without you.”
“Not could,” I add. “It will go under without me, but I’m betting two million it lasts five years.”
“You always were a risk taker. Draw up the offer. We have ten minutes.”
In a flash, everyone is scattering. When Reegan and I are left alone in the conference room, he says, “I bet he won’t go for it. He’s such an asshole. Always was.”
“How much?”
“How much of an asshole is he?”
I laugh and push back from the table. Lifting my feet onto the surface, I kick back. “No, how much do you want to bet that he’ll take the deal?”
“Two K?”
“Done.” We shake hands and I sit back with my hands behind my head. “I’ve given him plenty of opportunities to man up and make everything right. His ego is way bigger than his balls these days. He feels unbeatable, but he’s about to learn that no one is invincible.”
As we wait, the pleasure I thought I’d feel being in the power position isn’t there. There is no satisfaction in losing your dreams and best friend through betrayal.
Reegan stands. “Is it wrong that I hope you’re right and we close the agreement today?”
“It’s been nine months of hell. Not wrong to want to end it, even if it comes at the cost of two K from you.”
He laughs and reaches out to shake my hand. When I take it, I stand. “You deserve better than you got.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that, and I appreciate your friendship.”
“Don’t thank me too soon. It’s not over yet.” He walks to the door. “Let’s go seal our fate.”
I’m so anxious to wrap this chapter of my life up. I’m done. The bastard has won . . . short-term anyway. I need to be able to focus on my other companies.
We get the call during dinner.
My assistant, Reegan, and the three other lawyers join me at the restaurant. We were told a response would come today, so we’re waiting it out over a perfectly cooked Kobe steak and expensive wine that I’m going to charge to the company I’m about to lose.
Just as the food arrives, my mouth waters for different reasons. Dressed in a navy-blue business suit, it’s not the clothes that take my breath away. She could wear a bag and look good.
It’s that smile and the way her body moves so smoothly under the stiff fabric. It’s the way she looks at me like I’m the only man she sees. She makes me feel invincible despite my earlier proclamation.
I stand to greet her, a polite public and platonic kiss to the cheek, and whisper to her ear, “I’ve been thinking about you naked all day.”
She smiles, and I love her confidence as she reacts as if I only said a simple hello. With a little flirtatious swing of her hair, she whispers, “I’ve been thinking about how good it feels when you take me from behind and fuck me until the only comprehensible word falling from my lips is Ethan.”
“Fuck me,” I mumble on a strangled breath. My pants feel tight and I button my jacket to hide the erection I know I’m sporting.
“Gladly.”
I like her smart mouth. I like kissing it. I like fucking it. I love hearing those strawberry lips say my name as if it’s a swear word, or a prayer to a higher power.
Escorting her to the far end of the table, I whisper, “You’ve gone and done it now, Ms. Davis.” I’d slap her ass but we’re in public. I’ll save it for later. I introduce her to everyone and just as she takes a seat at the far end of the table, Reegan’s phone buzzes across the wooden tabletop.
The guests go quiet and he stands, grabs his phone, and heads for a quieter space. I’m assuming it’s the enemy, but I won’t let my steak go cold for them. “We should eat.”
Dinner conversation picks up, and as expected, Singer charms the gentlemen flanking her.
Her gaze drifts to me each time she takes a bite or a sip of wine. I raise my glass, the minutest to not be caught, in her honor. She’s gorgeous even in a suit that’s not quite tailored to show off her curves. My beauty still has all eyes on her. She doesn’t need expensive clothes to garner attention.
I see the looks she gets. I notice the envy of other men wishing she were theirs. I want to kiss her, to mark her as mine, but I continue to eat my steak, trying to satisfy a craving I know it never can.
Only her.
The most delicious flavor.
Now that I’ve gotten a taste of her, I know she’s the only one I want to devour. “Fucking hell, Everest.” Reegan returns, startling me.
Fucking hell is right, sneaky fucker. “Shit, you scared me.”
“You did it, man. The offer is golden.”
“What?”
His laughter permeates the air, drawing attention in the restaurant from surrounding guests. “They took the offer.”
“They took the offer?”
He grabs me into a hug, patting me on the back. “They accepted the fucking offer, Everest!”
“Holy shit. They took the offer.” Patting his back, I’m in shock. It was a shit offer for him, and a great offer for me. “We did it, man. We did it.”
The team is standing and congratulations are circulating. When I reach Singer standing and smiling proudly, she says, “I’m so happy for you.” I squeeze her tight, closing my eyes and dipping my head to her shoulder.
The heaviness that’s plagued me this last year starts to slip away. In her arms, I feel the joy and safety of her trust and honesty. She doesn’t ask me about the money, and she doesn’t ask about the logistics. “I know this has been trying. Are you okay?” She just asks about me. Me.
What have I done right in life to deserve this woman?
I step back, restraining myself from kissing her. “I’m really okay. This is amazing news. I lose one of my businesses, but I have others. I’m more than one company, and now I can move on and prove it.”
“I don’t doubt that at all. You can do anything you want, Ethan.”
I’m about to invite her for a quickie in the restroom when Reegan spins me around. “That’s quite an increase in the net worth. Congratulations.”
“And yours by ten. Thank you again.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Oh, and since I won the bet, you can write that check for two grand to the charity of Ms. Davis’s choice. I’ll match it tenfold.”
Reegan’s eyes follow mine that lead to Singer. She sits when we do, her laughter mingling with ours when he leans over to me and says, “Fuck the press. I would have kissed her too.”
A smile creases my cheeks even though I should punch the fuck out of him. “She’s good. Too good for me. She’s more beautiful on the inside if you can believe it.”
“You deserve someone good.”
“I met her at the same party I met Dariya.”
“Fuck.” Shaking his head, he says, “That sucks. It doesn’t matter how you begin. Only matters how you finish. Eat up. We have some celebrating to do.”
“Not me.” I look across the long table. “I have plans.”
His laugh doesn’t distract me from the eyes that have captured the light and shine into my heart. A small smile appears on her sweet face, and she looks down. Even in candlelight she can’t hide the pretty blush coloring her cheeks. When she takes a sip of her wine, she tips her glass for me.
I eat faster because I don’t want to be away from her anymore. The sooner we eat, the sooner I get to eat her.
After we charge a solid amount on the company card, I cut it in half and toss it in a bin with a big fuck you very much. Aaron stands curbside, and I see the debate in Singer’s eyes. “Not much longer, and then I’m showing you off all over this damn city.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
“You can hold me however you want. I’m yours, baby.”
“I like this good mood. Should we continue this celebration at my place?”
“Okay.
You take the car, and I’ll see you there shortly.” I’m feeling so good she could demand anything she wants, and I would give it to her.
Aaron pulls away, and I hit Reegan on the arm, then shake his hand. “Thanks again.”
“It was a shit deal. I’m glad he took it. You were right pushing to settle. This way he can make his own billion instead of lawyer fees costing him everything.”
“One down.”
“One to go. She reported to the center for the paternity test two days ago. The envelope, by court order, will remain sealed until the private hearing on Thursday.”
“Okay.”
“What are the odds?”
“I’m feeling good enough to gamble on it.”
“Good. Stay strong and I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.”
“See you.” I step out and catch a cab. I have a hot date waiting and I refuse to be late.
25
Singer
Ethan has been weighed down in work and his trial, but three nights away from him is too long. That’s what worries me. I openly admit to myself that I’ve completely fallen for him. I didn’t expect a floodgate of romance and swoons to follow. It’s like he’s been freed from some invisible shackles that had been holding him back, and now he’s sweeping me right off my feet. Who does that?
Ethan Everest.
That’s who.
The minute Aaron drops me off in front of my building I dash inside and run up the stairs to the apartment. I want it to look as nice as it can, and considering I was like a tornado this morning before leaving for the office, I know I have some work to do. With Melanie practically living with Mike these days, I don’t have to worry about us being interrupted.
I hang the jacket to my suit on a hook inside the closet door, step out of my black heels, and then work on the zipper on the back of the skirt. It seems to be stuck though. Shoot. Running into the tiny bathroom, I turn around and try to see what the problem is. But the mirror is too high and even on my toes I’m not tall enough.
With no time to waste, I take my blouse off and pull on a tank top. I rush back into the living room and grab the mug I used this morning and an empty Little Debbie donut wrapper. I deal with those and grab the four pairs of shoes that have been left by the door, tossing them into the closet. I run back out and fluff the pillows, light a candle, and start the oven.
I’m breaking into a sweat, but time’s ticking.
In a bowl, I mix half a cup of milk with a bag of blueberry muffin mix and whisk furiously. I pour the mix into the muffin pan and shove it into the oven before it’s even preheated. I need it to start baking so the magic waft begins.
A knock on the door causes me to pop up and look. Shoot. That was fast. Bending over, I run my fingers through my hair and shake my head to fluff and give it body. I stand up and pinch my cheeks and then with my hand on the door, I take a deep breath.
When I open it, there he is. Smiling. Handsome in his suit with eyes that strip me of another item of clothing with each slow, devouring blink.
I pull him in by the lapels and land my lips right on his. Without a second to spare, our lips part and our hands are frenzied to touch. He charges forth with me guiding him inside. The door is kicked closed, the back of my knees hit the couch, and I’m on my back before we even say hello. My need for air causes me to gasp, and I look up at this gorgeous man and take a deep breath. Hovering above me, he says, “Hello, Singer.”
My lips tingle. My body hums. And I feel it, his love for me growing. Not just against my leg physically, but inside—passion blooms. “Hello.”
Still staring at me, he smiles. “So this is your place?”
Although I’m in a compromising position, I laugh, then offer, “Yes, would you like a tour?”
He pushes up and takes my hands, helping me to my feet. “I would.”
Leading him just four feet, I say, “This is my kitchen. I like to cook, but I don’t cook all the time.”
“What’s that smell?”
“Oh. You just reminded me.” I bend down and peek at the muffins through the oven door. Almost ready. “Muffins. Do you like muffins?”
“I love muffins, especially yours.” There’s a devious glint in his eyes.
“You haven’t even tried my muffins.”
“Oh, I’ve tried them.” He licks his lips, and it’s so seductive I’m not sure if my panties will survive. “And I can’t wait to eat more of your muffins . . .”
Oh.
My.
God.
I fan myself with my hand, but his body blocks me in, cornering me. The back of his finger grazes along my jaw, his thumb toying with my bottom lip. “Is it hot from the oven? I’m feeling heated.”
“It’s not the oven, baby.”
His other hand slides up my waist, exposing my midsection. My gaze finds that Adam’s apple of his, and damn if I don’t lose all train of thought. “We should, um . . . what were we doing?”
“You were giving me a tour of your . . . apartment.”
“Right,” I breathe out before slipping around him. “If you keep this up, we won’t make it past the kitchen counter.” And I’m totally not against this idea . . .
“And the problem is?”
“The bedroom is back here.” I grab his hand and drag him past the bathroom and into my bedroom. “And that’s my bed,” I say in an eager-beaver voice.
Ethan turns to look at me because I’m all pitchy, and my hand is now sweating. I try to shake his off, but he holds mine tighter, causing my temperature to rise even more. “I should turn on the fan.”
“I’m comfortable,” he replies. “Are we alone?”
“Melanie is at her boyfriend’s place.”
Eyeing me head to toe, he definitely notices my weird ensemble. “Nice outfit.”
“It’s the zipper. It’s stuck. Do you mind helping me out of it?”
An eyebrow is raised in my direction. “Is that a serious question, because the answer is no, I don’t mind one tiny bit. Turn around.”
I do, but he doesn’t start on the zipper like I expect. So I look back at him and ask, “What are you doing?”
“Enjoying the view. I might want you to wear this skirt a little longer. Have you ever played office?” Now I’m the one cocking a brow up. “Can you take dick-tation, Ms. Davis?”
“Depends on the dick-tator.”
My backside is pulled against his front. “I’m very good at dick-tating my commands.”
The oven timer goes off, and I jump. “Zipper?”
The damn thing is broken. I eventually have to take the muffins out and he’s holding pliers to the zippy thing while in the confined space of my kitchen. We stop for a hot muffin and then go at it again. Eventually, it gives but with too much damage to the teeth to save it. “I’ll take it to the dry cleaners. They can put a new zipper in.”
“I want to take care of it for you.” He grabs me around the waist and holds my ass. “You planning on wearing those panties all night?”
“I thought my muffins would be enough to satisfy.”
“Your muffins are delicious. Go lay on the bed and let me take another bite.”
“Biting?” Rawr. “I didn’t know you were so kinky, Mr. Everest.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet.” I’m lifted over his shoulder and carried into the bedroom, before he drops me on the bed. I bounce while laughing. Lying in the middle of the mattress, I pull off my top and bra and signal him with my best come-hither. “Don’t keep me waiting, babe.”
His jacket flies off, his shoes are kicked away, and while working on his shirt and tie, he says, “You called me babe.”
Lifting up on my elbows, I ask, “You call me baby sometimes.”
His dress shirt and undershirt come off, and while working on his belt, he smiles. “I like you calling me babe.” The rest of his clothes come off and he climbs onto the mattress. “Now about those muffins . . .”
His mouth is gloriously talented. After losing mysel
f to the ecstasy of it, twice, I return the favor.
Pinning him down, I kiss him first, my body burning with desire for this man. I rise above him and slowly slide down, his cock stretching me, igniting me in a deliciously different way. With my hands leveraged against his chest, I start to move, slowly at first and picking up speed just to watch his breathing change.
He’s different tonight—direct, but conceding to my sexual pleas for more. Strong and agile, but happy to let me lead. His muscles are relaxed, but his focus intense.
His fingers dig into my hips as I rock back and forth on top of him, watching me take what I want. “God, Singer, you’re so fucking beautiful.” I lean down to kiss him, my nipples brushing against his chest, the feeling incredible.
Reaching above him, I grab hold of the headboard while he takes control, thrusting into me from below. His hands take my breasts and his tongue swirls around one nipple and then the other.
My head falls back, ecstasy seizing my body. His movements become erratic, my own a mess of twisted coiling, so tight I’ll unravel at the hands of this man so easily once again. “Ethan. Ethan. Ethan.”
“Fuck,” he says, his voice riled as he bites his lip and slams me down, holding me in place. His hips press three more times before he falls under the spell that drags me under with him, an orgasm thundering through me as I squeeze around him.
Dropping on top of him, my forehead presses into the pillow under him until each quake subsides, and my breath returns. I lie still, my heart pounding against his, not able to decipher between his heartbeat and mine.
This beautiful man would do anything for me. I feel it with my eyes closed, deep inside. I know it when I open them and see it in the way he looks at me, the way he worries about me, and how he cares about me. I’ve never known such adoration. “I love you.”
His head turns and his hands cover my back. He smiles so much the lines on the outside of his eyes crinkle. He’s the kind of man who gets more handsome every day. Age will only increase this attraction. “I love you, Singer.”
Our lips press together, our tongues mingling, love swirling all around. My arms wrap around his neck, and he rolls us onto our sides. The words have been felt, hanging on the tip of my tongue, but this time it’s different. Not because we just had sex, but because we just made, created, grew our love.
