by Lia Davis
Without another word, Brock turned and left. Asher watched until Brock was back inside the main house and the door closed behind him. He’d heard her moving around behind him. If she tried to escape through the French doors leading out to the back deck, he was sure with his dragon quickness he’d be able to catch her in time. That assurance established, Asher took his time preparing to face her again. With Brock gone and no more time left to stall, he turned back around to find she’d put on a lightweight zipper hoodie.
Damn.
She’d placed those spectacular breasts behind a covering. He had to be honest. That was for the best. It would only distract him from what he had to do. Reframing the situation like it was one of his business meetings and not a showdown with a woman who made him want to groan with want, Asher formed the best next statement he could and launched it.
“Care to tell me how you managed to get in here and live?”
Chapter 7
Daryl
Talk about blunt. The ridiculously gorgeous huge man had come right out with it. She’d have to woman up and answer.
“Do you mind if I sit while I answer that?” she asked.
Big green eyes, the adult intense and complex version of Brock’s, stared down at her. He was tall, muscular, and spectacularly sexy. His thick black hair was messed about like he still had bed head. It took everything in her not to go to him and run her hand through it to fix, much like she’d done a few minutes ago with his son. This man made her so self-conscious, she trembled.
While he watched to make sure Brock obeyed and went back to their main house, she’d taken the opportunity to throw on the closest piece of clothing she could find. The sight of him made her body ache. The light sleep bra she wore under her skimpy tank had failed miserably at hiding how hard her nipples had gotten. The decent thing to do was to cover up and show him some respect in his guest house. She’d zipped the hoodie up to the neck in a pathetic attempt to hide how her body reacted to him. It was clearly too hot for the hoodie, but she’d played that off.
The confusion that confronted her in his expressive eyes when he’d turned around had thrown her off like she’d done something wrong. Being around him was throwing her into a tailspin. Her “don’t give a fuck” demeanor that she prided herself for was in serious jeopardy of fizzling out in a major way with him in the mix. Daryl pushed down the ache to want to please him. That wasn’t her, not by a long shot. Whatever this guilt she had about getting caught living in his guest house had to be quashed. The only people she wanted to please were her dad’s memory and herself. Everyone else could go fuck off.
Still, being near to him, her pussy itched and ached to be touched. She was turned on. The best thing for her would be to get this over, fast. The sooner she got away from Mr. Long Thick Dick—yeah, she’d peeped how generously blessed the man was—the better it would be for her freedom and continued virginal sexual status. Only a few times before had she ever felt like this with another person. And her secret crush on Omar Jones from college didn’t count. Unlike those guys, this man seemed to possess the power to make her do things—things she’d never considered before.
Her panties were wet, and she needed the shield of the table to hide that little surprise too. How could she be so aroused by the man who was about to have her arrested? That was clear as the day was long. It was sick, her desire for him. He was here to get her out of his house, most likely before his real girlfriend showed up—Brock had said he hadn’t come with a woman up here—but seriously, look at him. There was no way a man this fine was going to be up here alone, without some female companionship for the entire summer. Nope, he hadn’t let his son know the plans.
And here she was throwing monkey wrenches in everything. The best way to mess up a man’s plans for some great sex hook ups was to have another woman hanging around. The writing was everywhere, she had to go, but where? Daryl still only had about three hundred dollars left. And, by the looks of it, her prototype was beyond repair. She’d have to start over, and that would take more time than she’d agreed to deliver a working commercial prototype. Yep, her first contract job looked like it was toast. Instead of putting up a fight to defend herself, all Daryl wanted to do was find a way to touch him before she had to leave. It was insane how badly she wanted to get close to him. She didn’t know this guy, and yet she was like a wanton woman from one of those old movies her dad used to love.
“Sure, please sit,” he said, pulling her back from the daydream of what it would feel like to touch those hard muscles that rippled across his body whenever he made the slightest move.
Plopping down ungracefully at the table in the dining area, she reached for her laptop. Positioning it as a barrier between them would give her the courage to have this talk. Daryl stole another quick look at the insanely hot grownup version of that cute little kid. This man was definitely his son’s father and more. She marveled at how he scratched the same side of his face when he sat down across from her at the table that had instantly become way too small now. His presence snuffed out everything else in the room so that her attention had nowhere to go but to him. Brock’s dad, the little guy, had said his name, but she couldn’t remember it now with how the hot, sexy, real-life version was throwing her mental circuitry into overload.
Looking down at a black screen of the laptop that wasn’t even on, Daryl waited until he settled into the wooden chair that looked like a preschool version with how big he was. It was rare that a man made her feel small. She was a woman who was firmly planted in the double-digit clothing sizes, and not the lower ones either. Yeah, she was proportioned, but there were still plenty of rolls, dimples, and fluff to go around.
Gah! Why was she still devolving into a stupid little girl who wanted this man’s approval? Duh, because he was fine as ten fucks and so close she could reach out and touch at least his well-formed, powerful hand. It rested on the table and flexed as he subconsciously made fists and released them. Uh-oh that was a sign of anger. He was pissed, and she was the object of that anger.
What to do?
He spoke up. “Looking around, I can tell you’ve been here for a while. Although you’ve kept the place in great condition, the fact remains that you’ve been living here.”
“That’s true, and I want to apologize. Things happened, and before I knew it, I was here and living in your guest house. It’s obvious I’m not your guest.” Daryl hated that she couldn’t bring herself to look the man in the face. It was hard enough facing the fact that she’d been caught in a criminal act in his home. The way he looked and looked at her was messing with her ability to think straight too. What kind of sick fuck fell for the owner of the place she’d been squatting on for months? Um, that would be her, that’s who. Yep, sitting here as uncomfortable as she was, Daryl knew she had a bad case of sexual feels for this guy. He did it for her.
Who knew it would be a guy like him? She’d always been into her work. Now she was tripped up on a rich guy who was about to have her tossed in jail. He so didn’t have any attraction to her. It was obvious she wasn’t his type in any sense of the word. He had pretty model-type written all over him.
Self-consciousness about how gaga she was over a man who couldn’t care less about her crush on him berated her ability to remain poised. She hated how stupid she must appear to him, all wide-eyed and fawning over him. Pitiful. This time her inner critic had saved her from continued embarrassment. Determined to focus on the matter in front of her and not him, Daryl sat up and paid attention to what he said.
“It’s clear that my son has formed a strong attachment to you. I’m caught in a strange position here. Either I contact the authorities and press charges for you trespassing, I let you leave, or I figure out a way to not break my son’s heart and have him never speak to me again. You, Miss Daryl, have put me in a precarious position.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be here this long.” She had to be an adult about this. Closing the laptop and pushing it aside, Daryl
squeezed as much courage out as possible to say her next words. “It doesn’t matter why I was here. The fact is still the fact. I was here illegally. You caught me, and now I must accept the consequences. I’m not going to ask for any special favors. My father didn’t raise me to shirk responsibility. Do what you need to, Mister… excuse me, I don’t know your name.”
“Oh, pardon me. I’m Asher Princeton.”
Princeton—that was the name of the company she’d gotten a contract from—Princeton Technologies. Tingles of connection bubbled up throughout her body. There was something to his name.
“You wouldn’t happen to be affiliated with Princeton Technologies, would you?”
She’d dared to look up only to see his eyes narrow in suspicion. “Why do you ask?”
Now wasn’t the time to be shady. She would answer the man openly and truthfully. She owed him that.
“Because I got a contract from them to work on a possible project.”
“You? And what is the project on?”
Still wasn’t going to be her usual smart ass self, she answered, “It’s an alternative energy source.” Pointing at her clearly mangled prototype on the floor next to the door, Daryl added, “That’s the prototype right there. Looks like I’ll have to start over if they’re willing to wait until we sort out what’s going to happen here.”
There, she’d said that she knew the guy was going to call the cops and press charges.
He turned to look back at the last hope she’d had for getting back on her feet, and then to her. “That was your prototype for an alternative energy? It’s damaged. Can it be repaired?”
Daryl wanted to believe her ears. The guy sounded like he was sincere in his concern about her floating wind turbine, but she couldn’t be sure. He could have said he could make her Queen of the World and she’d believe him. Everything about his presence made her cuckoo and daft. Why was it that attraction could make her lose her damn mind? Pressing past his questions to figure out how her father would handle a discussion like this, Daryl reined in her stupid desire to please this guy and answered, “It might be, but, I’ll have to see.”
That was elusive enough for him to back off. He still hadn’t answered her question about being related to Princeton Technologies. She did see why his son was the way he was. They were like dogs with a bone, homing in on doing what it took to get what they wanted.
He got up and went back over to where the destroyed prototype sat. “You seem to be on the up and up with me, so I’ll be straight with you as well.” His words were unexpected and appreciated. “I need to come clean. I might have had something to do with the damage you sustained to your prototype. And, to answer your question, yes, I’m the CEO and President of Princeton Technologies.” Returning to the table with the machine in his hand, he sat it on the table and asked, “What’s your full name? I remember a brilliant man I once knew whose name was also Daryl.”
She smiled, thinking that this guy might have known about her father. “I’m Daryl Livingston, Junior.” And with that proclamation, she extended a hand to shake his. “Wish I was meeting you under different circumstances.”
Asher’s eyes grew wide. She couldn’t place the emotion riding his face. Was he angry, surprised, or shocked?
“You’re Daryl Junior? You?”
“Yes, what does that mean? Do you know something about me?” Now Daryl was starting to get weirded out. What was going on with him? She hadn’t done anything to him or his company, except squat at his private residence for months.
“It means that I was the one to approve your project personally. Harry Sonders brought it directly to me to fast-track its approval. I was excited about the prospect of what your proposal could become. I didn’t know you’d already made it work.”
Daryl wanted to snatch her machine off the table and hide it. Old memories of how companies like his had raped her dad of his dues beat down on her. There would be no way she’d allow him to do the same to her. Shame on her if she allowed a gorgeous smile and body to die for make her lose sight of what was at stake. This project would restore her father’s reputation and memory as a genius in a world who had never supported or embraced him for his immense contributions.
She inched her hand close to the machine and pulled it back to her side of the table. The man before her was her client. With his resources and power, nothing stopped him from taking the prototype and having a team reverse-engineer it. Daryl faced a whole new set of problems. Not only did she have to figure out how to get out of here with the least amount of jail time, she now had to find a way to hide her work from Mr. Princeton before the police carted her off.
“Because you have a working relationship with my company, which changes things,” he said. “I’m not going to pretend that I don’t have a vested interest in seeing this project completed. A successful completion on your part would mean a lot of applications and revenue for my company.” He leaned back and placed his hands behind his head. Daryl looked down to keep from staring at the sculpted muscles of his arms as they flexed and toyed with her emotional restraint. “From a business standpoint, I owe it to my company to make the best choices that keep it profitable. Your technology is a probable asset to my company. Therefore, I cannot, in a fiduciary sense, press charges against you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Princeton,” she said, heart in her throat with relief. “I’ll be out of here within the hour.”
“Wait, not so fast there, Daryl. And please, call me Ash or Asher. Also in my fiduciary duty, now that I know how far along you are with your project, it would be reckless for me to allow you to take that project to a less secure location where others might become aware of what you’re working on. Trust me when I say the energy technology development sector is vicious when it comes to innovation and inventions. Your project qualifies as both.” He straightened, leaned forward and unleashed a smile so powerful Daryl wanted to call on Jesus for strength when he added, “Ms. Daryl Livingston, Junior, would you consider the added compensation of room and board here as my guest in the guest house while you complete your project?” he winked. “See what I did there? I figured out how to keep Brock from running away, you from going to jail and my company from losing out on a tremendous opportunity.”
Dumbfounded but relieved, Daryl exhaled and tried to reboot her brain to process what he’d said.
Not sure sound would come out when she attempted to speak, Daryl formed the words and blurted out, “Are you saying I can stay here and finish my work?”
“Yes, did I stutter?”
“Oh, so you have jokes then?” she said, clasping a hand over her mouth.
Mr. Princeton might look like a mountain she wanted to climb and place her flag on top, but he wasn’t some guy she kicked it with. Fighting the urge to squirm in her chair, Daryl prepared to correct herself when he let out a bellowing laugh.
“Yes, I do. And, please do me a favor.”
“What’s that?” she asked, amazed it came out in a whisper.
“Lighten up. I don’t bite. You see how that kid of mine has me wrapped around his finger. I can tell you’re good people as well. I also remember your dad when I was younger and starting out. He was a superstar in the industry.”
“Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”
Daryl was confused again when his face scrunched up as if what she’d said caused him pain. Asher Princeton was a hard man to read.
“You don’t have to thank me. Now that I think about it, I should be doing more. Have you received the contract Harry sent over yet?”
“Yeah, I got it yesterday.” Now was her chance to voice her concerns. “And, there are a few things I’d like to counter.”
“Such as?” One of his thick masculine eyebrows arched in question.
“Um,” she had to speak up and not be mealy-mouthed as her mother would call it. “I don’t want to be exclusive, nor do I want a non-compete clause. I’m an independent contractor, not an employee. As such, I’m not held to the same ru
les of operation as your employees are. My company has the right to work with whoever it pleases, and when I’m not producing a project for you, I should be able to work with whoever I like.”
“That’s reasonable. It sounds like you received a standard work contract where they added a few bits here and there. Is there anything else?”
“Yes, the timeline for producing and submitting the prototype needs to be changed now that I have to start over. I’m sure there was something else, but these are the biggest ones I can think of.”
“What about the compensation? You don’t want to counter on that? I’ll let you in on a secret. I’m going to make a shit ton of money on that project.”
“Well, should I? I mean, I do want to have more projects with you in the future. I’m not trying to be greedy. I want to make sure I can live and do the best job possible.”
Green eyes stared at her—for a while. Daryl felt the intensity like a tangible heat as he continued to stare. But, more was going on. There was thought and planning going on behind that stare. Again, his son had done the same thing to her earlier. Could this meeting with him be more de ja vu?
“Daryl, give me the contract. I’m going to go over it, have it redone, and increase the compensation component too. Don’t worry about Harry either. I’ll have my assistant handle him while I get you the contract you deserve from Princeton Technologies.”
With the release of those words, relief flooded her being. An invisible heavy weight lifted, allowing her to take a deep breath for the first time in a long time. Mr. Princeton—Ash—might be the cool dude his son wanted him to be.
He looked around and zoned in on her hot plate. “Please don’t tell me you’ve been cooking on that thing instead of using the stove?”
