Rough Harbor

by Andrea Stein

  His smile turned to something dark and simmering. His hand went to stop her, but she loosened the buckle.

  “Not here,” he said. His breath was ragged as he looked at her, and she saw the desire for her in his eyes.

  She didn’t know if she could make it upstairs, but Noah took the decision out of her hands, pulling her up and to him, so that her legs were wrapped around him as he carried her out of the kitchen and into the hallway, pausing only to lean her against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, pinning her up against it while his tongue ravished her.

  “Now,” she panted, feeling the desire rise in her.

  “Shh,” he whispered, starting up the stairs, “We’ve waited this long… what’s a few minutes more?”

  She wanted to argue, but her brain wasn’t thinking. She was aware of only the sensations racing through her body, the feeling of need that was building. Caitlyn barely noticed what door he opened once they made it up the stairs, only that there was a bed and a lamp on, throwing a soft light.

  He dropped her on her back, and she lay there, with him standing over her, looking at her, his eyes devouring her. Noah stripped off his belt, and his trousers dropped. Deftly, he took off his shoes and then turned his attention to her, one hand grabbing her panties, which were snagged around her knees, drawing his hand up her leg, inch by exquisite inch, until she could barely take it, barely hold on. Then he removed her shoes, one by one, tossing them gently on the floor, followed by her panties.

  His grin was wolfish as he undid the belt of her dress, letting it fall back against the bed. Caitlyn felt her insides grow liquid once again as his eyes never left her face.

  Noah skimmed his fingers over the length of her legs and up her body, coming up to the white lace of her bra. He cupped a hand over her breast, squeezed one gently, then the other, while his other hand deftly undid the snap of her bra and they lifted free.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said, bringing his mouth down, sucking at her, nipping at her bare, exposed flesh until she felt herself aroused all over again. Sensing her impatience, he let her undo the buttons of his shirt, and she shook it free, sending it over the side of the bed. She reached for his waist, but he stopped her, holding her hand and hovering above her, while he took off his underwear, and he sprung free, ready for her, his eyes impatient.

  Noah leaned over her. She circled her arms around his neck, and he hiked her up, her legs wrapping around him. Caitlyn was dimly aware of the cool satin of the bedspread beneath her, but her mind went blank as he entered her, slowly at first, testing her, thrusting slowly, each one pushing her to new heights of pleasure.

  His rhythm changed, more insistent as he worked towards his climax, and she matched him thrust for thrust, pleasure for pleasure, until she could take it no longer, and she was pushed over the edge, calling out his name, her hands kneading his back, her head flung backwards. He watched her and then followed, the two of them riding the crest until it exploded over them and everything faded away.

  <<>>

  Noah looked at her, his beautiful Caitlyn, her pale skin lit by the soft lamplight, her long, lithe body spread out beneath him, her legs and arms entangled around him. He was leaning heavily on her, and knew he should move, get up, get her clothes, a drink, something, but he was spent, too overcome to do anything but admire her. He brushed his hands through her hair, feeling the thudding of her heart against his chest. Her hands were stroking his back, touching his hair, and she was looking him with a mix of wonder and satisfaction.

  He smiled back at her. “Worth the wait?” he asked, hoping against hope that the answer would be yes.

  Caitlyn nodded. “Yes. Well worth the wait.” She said each word slowly, and he felt a wave of relief wash over him, as she asked shyly, “For you?”

  “Oh baby,” he said, kissing her nose, “you have no idea.” She laughed, a simple happy sound, and he pulled her close to him again, just letting her warmth wash over him. Yes, it had been worth the wait, every minute of those ten years, all he had done to be sure that he was worthy of her. His Caitlyn.

  They talked after that. He found a shirt for her, and she wore that down to the kitchen, where they had their wine and their dinner from the Hideaway.

  “I didn’t know you knew how to cook?” she said, looking at him as they sat at the small table tucked in a corner of the kitchen. She had lit candles for them and changed the music to something a little more upbeat.

  “Well, I’m a man of many talents,” he told her, and let his knee touch her under the table.

  “Funny, the chocolate cake seems an awful lot like the…”

  “Shh.” He put a hand to her lips. “Just enjoy the experience.”

  Caitlyn took his finger, held it to her lips and said, “Oh, I am.”

  He felt himself growing ready for her again, but he let her finish her cake before he pulled her from the table and led her upstairs.

  Chapter 22

  Caitlyn had risen, getting up carefully so as not to disturb Noah. He was big, stretched out in the bed, the covers bunched up over him. His arm skimmed the place where she’d been, and he gave a slight sigh. She watched, scarcely breathing, until his hand found the pillow and clutched it to him.

  Last night had been amazing, she thought smugly as she found a brush in the bathroom, ran it through her hair and availed herself of some mouthwash. The best sex of her life? Caitlyn looked at herself in the mirror, at her tousled hair, her lips, slightly swollen, as if they’d been kissed too much and too hard.

  She had borrowed one of his shirts, a soft chambray one that smelled of clean laundry, soap and Noah. She breathed it in, closing her eyes, and when she opened them, looking in the mirror, she saw someone, herself, with a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin.

  Yes, she felt great, better than great. If she and Noah had been together when she was eighteen, would she have ever wanted to do anything else, to be with anyone else?

  One last look over her shoulder told her Noah was still sleeping. So she moved quickly, gathering her clothes, dressing herself in the semidarkness. She was almost at the bottom of the stairs, heading towards the door, before she heard his voice.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was rough, sleep–thickened, and he was just a shadow in the early morning gloom. Then a light went on, the foyer’s chandelier, too bright until he dimmed it down.

  Caitlyn felt her mouth go dry. “I have to go to work.”

  “At dawn.” He came down the steps with just his boxers on. She saw the firm outline of his shoulders, his well-muscled arms.

  “You weren’t running away from me, were you?” he asked, his voice light, but his eyes begging her not to.

  She shook her head, letting him wrap his arms around her. “Please don’t go,” he said, barely whispering.

  Caitlyn felt his strength wrapped around her, fell his desire for her through the thin film of his shirt. One of his hands dropped, caressing her thigh and then inching up. She trembled at the pleasure it brought, felt her nipples grow hard.

  He trailed his lips against the length of her jaw, and she let her shoes drop to the floor again, giving herself up to him. Noah looked at her, one hand still inching up her thigh, drawing closer to the space between her legs, teasing, tantalizing her.

  Noah kissed her then, a rough, fierce kiss that seemed to want to possess her, and Caitlyn gave in, arching her back into him, wrapping her own arms around his back and his neck. He hiked her up a bit, driving one of his thighs between her legs, opening her wide and stroking, gently stroking there until she moaned in pleasure.

  He started to turn, to carry her to the bedroom, but she shook her head. She couldn’t wait.

  “Right here,” she told him, and he leaned her back against the stairs, one arm grabbing her wrists, holding them there. His eyes watched hers as his hand touched her, and she let herself go, enjoying the feeling, her whole body shuddering, bucking with pleasure. Caitlyn could fe
el her body slick with sweat, knew that the only thing that mattered was Noah and his hands and what he was doing to her, how he was making her feel.

  His fingers kept at their work, and then his head slid down, nudging her legs a little wider until she felt him down there, one hand playing with her breasts, massaging her nipples into little fierce points of pleasure.

  She moaned, felt the moment come, savored it and then let herself go, her body shuddering with the explosion of her climax, her head thrown back, her legs open, her whole body heaving.

  There was silence, just a moment. “Are you okay?” Noah asked, his face drawing level with hers, a wicked smile on her face.

  Caitlyn let all the feelings wash over her and settle for a moment. One of his hands was still casually stroking her inner thigh, the other over her thudding heart.

  She smiled. “Your turn,” she said, her hand finding him, hard and ready. She stroked, and his eyes widened. Then she brought him to her, guiding him into her, receiving him, giving him as much pleasure as he gave her, his eyes boring into her, and then finally, finally closing in pleasure as he came, too, pouring himself into her.

  Chapter 23

  “Miss Montgomery, so nice to finally speak to you again.” Peter Flynn’s voice poured from the phone and over her. Whatever glow Caitlyn had on arriving at the office evaporated, and she cursed herself for answering the phone. Of course Heather was nowhere to be seen, probably sucking up to Sam Harris, the jerk.

  Caitlyn considered hanging up the phone right then and there.

  “I hear you’re getting closer to the boss.”

  She waited, suspended, barely breathing. “Are you spying on me?”

  There was a chuckle. “I don’t have to, now do I?”

  Caitlyn cursed herself silently. She’d just fallen into the oldest trap in the book.

  “So, Miss Montgomery, are you ready to deal?”

  “Deal what?”

  “I think you know. In fact, I think you know more than you’ve been letting on this whole time.”

  Caitlyn hunched over in her chair, leaning down close over her desk, concentrating fully, trying to imagine the man on the other end of the line.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she hedged.

  “It’s funny what waiters and busboys, even valets, remember. Anonymous to most of us, but so many of them have very sharp hearing and very acute memories, especially when offered an incentive.”

  He was talking about the night at the club, the last night Maxwell had been alive. She had been ready, ready to demand more from him.

  Maxwell had been through one cocktail and a full bottle of wine by then. By the second bottle of wine, he had said it was a mistake to hire her, that maybe she was really tainted – and then he had threatened her.

  “We had a disagreement,” Caitlyn said. “That’s common knowledge.” The police had asked her about it. Just about everyone at the club had heard them – or Maxwell, at least. After Caitlyn had been rebuffed, she had been mostly silent and fuming, taking Maxwell’s abuse, not because she thought she deserved it, but because she saw that, despite the kindness towards her, he was old, sad, and a broken man.

  And she owed him. A little bit. So, she had endured his barbs and his rants, and yes, even his threats until the club manager had stepped in and quietly convinced him to go home.

  “Yes, a disagreement. The cause, well, no one is quite sure what it was, but they certainly heard Maxwell take you to task. Tsk, tsk.”

  Peter Flynn’s voice hissed on the last words, and Caitlyn felt a shiver run down her back. This guy was a first-class creep.

  “Don’t you want what I’m selling Caitlyn? I told you what you know isn’t the whole story. Don’t you want the truth? It’s a doozy of a story. I call it the Curse of the Sound.”

  “How come you know so much about it?” Caitlyn asked, stalling for time. Her eyes closed, and she rubbed one hand against her forehead. Migraines, sweat, nausea, that’s what she got when she thought about that time. Ten years ago, and it still had the power to stir up those feelings. Rage, powerlessness, hopelessness. Her grandfather was gone, and Maxwell had taken it all.

  “Let’s just say I have been following the Montgomery-Randall Group for a number of years, off and on. I will give old Maxwell credit. He was a tough son of a bitch to pin anything on.” “What are you talking about?” Caitlyn’s voice was stronger, and she had straightened up. She could see Noah through the front wall of her office, all glass, see him moving down the aisle of desks, greeting people by name.

  “The truth. What I will tell will blow your mind. I can prove to you that what happened to your grandfather was not your fault. In fact, you’d be surprised about who you’ll be able to blame.”

  Caitlyn kept her eyes on Noah, watching him, tall, trim, so self-assured, greeting, smiling, taking the time to get to know everyone. Did she want to reopen old wounds? Wasn’t she ready for healing? Wasn’t that what last night had been about?

  “Come on, Caitlyn, when was the last time you dreamed about him? About how they found him?” God, Flynn knew her too well. The image of her grandfather, lying in his car, haunted her, invaded her dreams still.

  Caitlyn was about to agree when there was a sound on the other end, a loud honk, something whizzing by, then an angry shout.

  “Gotta go. I’ll be in touch.” Flynn clicked off, and Caitlyn was left looking at the phone.

  She glanced up. Noah was almost at her office door. Quickly, she disconnected the call on her end just as he leaned in her door.

  “Hello, Mr. Randall,” she said, trying to smile. “You seem awfully happy today.”

  He grinned at her. “I had a very interesting meeting last night, Miss Montgomery.”

  Well aware that the door was open and that their conversation could be overheard by the entire office, she asked, “Business or pleasure?”

  “Why, a little bit of both,” he took two long strides across the carpet until he was standing in front of her desk, hands resting on the back of one of the chairs.

  He was wearing a blue checked collared shirt, open, no tie, and a dark blazer, with dark blue jeans, a belt and brown shoes. He looked casual, yet commanding, and Caitlyn felt her heart race and her stomach flip as she remembered just how those long, elegant fingers had made her feel the night before.

  Noah caught the drift of her gaze, and he flexed his hands while the smile disappeared from his face to be replaced with a harder, more considering look.

  “If only you didn’t have a wall full of windows, Miss Montgomery, I think I might just be able to show you a little more of that pleasure.”

  “Oh.” Caitlyn felt her stomach turn to jelly and realized she had forgotten to breathe.

  “But,” he said, standing back up, his voice still low enough that it couldn’t be heard out in the hallway, “I was thinking maybe we could just have dinner?”

  She swallowed, tried to speak, and nodded. “My place or yours?”

  “How about yours?”

  “Eight o’clock then?” Caitlyn said, well aware that Heather was back at her desk, her chair tilted back, straining to hear every word.

  “Delighted. Glad we’ll get to talk business, Miss Montgomery,” he said, winking at her and turning to go.

  “My pleasure, Mr. Randall.”

  He stopped, looked at her and dropped his voice, “I sure hope it is. See you later.”

  And with that, he turned and walked out the door.

  Heather was up out of her chair and in her office in an instant. “Can I get you anything, a cup of coffee?”

  Caitlyn busied herself with her computer screen, pretending to type, trying to keep her head down, trying to let her heart rate return to normal. She knew Heather was being nosy. Though Caitlyn had never expected Heather to fetch her coffee, Heather had never offered to either.


  “No, I’m fine.” Caitlyn thought for a moment. “But you know I do need some files, maybe you could help with those?”

  Heather nodded, and Caitlyn gave her instructions.

  Chapter 24

  It was after lunch that she finally got around to finding Tommy Anderson. He looked up from his computer, surprise on his face.

  “May I come in?” She hadn’t really spoken to him since the day of the funeral. His office was at the other end of the floor, and they rarely met each other, even in passing. She supposed it also had to do with the fact that they were technically rivals. Maxwell had made no bones about that.

  “Sure, come in.” She took her seat, looking around the office and at Tommy. He dressed expensively, in French cuff shirts and well-tailored suits. His straight brown hair was slicked back so that it looked permanently wet, and he sometimes wore tortoise shell glasses. Even in his pictures, which showed him with his wife and his son, he looked over-dressed, as if it were difficult for him to be comfortable, casual.

  But she needed to talk to him. He happened to have what she wanted. Caitlyn knew she needed to wow Tony Biddle, give him access to something he hadn’t seen before – something like the Platinum Fund. And now, with Maxwell gone, Tommy controlled it completely.

  “You look pleased with yourself,” he said.

  Caitlyn just smiled. Tommy had asked her out for a ‘casual’ drink after work when she first started working here. She’d been almost certain he’d made a pass at her, a subtle one, since he was married, but a pass nonetheless. Since then, she’d done her best to avoid him.

  “We seem to be doing well. Sam Harris said profits were up, client retention had been fine since Maxwell passed away. I guess stories of our demise were greatly exaggerated.”

  “Good, no hard feelings against the new owner, I hope?” Tommy smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “What are you talking about?”