Crave Me: An O'Brien Family Novel (The O'Brien Family Book 3)

by Cecy Robson

  “He does.” She analyzes me closely. “And because of it, he’s the one who knocked on his door along with a few other cops. Bryant was arrested, but was out in a few hours once his big-time lawyers, who he shouldn’t be able to afford, arranged his release. I filed a report, but it’s not enough, not when the security cameras didn’t capture his face, and not when an airtight alibi popped out of nowhere. All charges were dropped as of last night.” She eases away from me. “So when I told you this wasn’t the best time, I wasn’t exaggerating.”

  “Why?” I hold up a hand when she frowns. “This happened after we met. What was he doing to you before?”

  Wren isn’t happy that I picked up on what went unsaid. But as much as I don’t want to force her to relive the experience with this imbecile, I need to know what’s happened so I can help her.

  “He called me the day you stopped in looking for a car. I probably pissed him off when I hung up on him. He also texted me, but we can’t prove it was him,” she explains. “Curran thinks he lashed out because he found out I went out with you.”

  “He doesn’t want me with you,” I say.

  Again, she hesitates. Her worry as palpable as the strain between us. “That’s what Curran thinks,” she admits.

  “Like I give a shit,” I snap.

  Her small brows knit. “Evan, I’m serious.”

  I scoff. “So am I.” I mull over what she says. “How often does he contact you?”

  Her brows knit as if bothered by my questions. But I think it’s more than that. “Not often enough to press charges, but enough to remind me he’s still there.” She releases a small breath. “He’s smart, Evan. But most sociopaths are.”

  “Sociopaths?” I ask, although by now it’s obvious he is.

  “That’s right. My problem is I found out a little too late.” She steps away and heads to the door. “Still want to hire me?”

  “Yes.”

  My words stop her dead. She glances over her shoulder. “Are ‘must have a psycho ex-boyfriend’ on your list of requirements for new hires, Evan?”

  The reminder that he was her former lover irritates the hell out of me. Not because I’m threatened by him, not in the least. But because he clearly threatened her. “I’m not asking him to work for me. I’m asking you.”

  Her dark hair falls along her breasts as she covers her face with her hand. “Evan,” she says. “I can’t do this to you.”

  “Why did you come here?”

  She drops her hand away as if unsure why I say what I do. “I wanted to see you.”

  “To tell me goodbye?”

  The misery in her demeanor is telling enough, although she takes her time to explain. “I couldn’t just blow you off, not after everything that happened between us. And I felt bad about not returning your texts.” She sighs. “The least I could do was stop by and tell you I couldn’t see you anymore.”

  “Because of him?” She doesn’t reply, but I know it’s the reason. She wants to protect me. But I already assumed that role for both of us.

  I walk toward her slowly and wrap my arms carefully around her waist. “I don’t want to say goodbye. Not to you.”

  Her hands clasps my arms. “I don’t want to either. But you’re a good man. You don’t deserve all this crazy.” She purses her lips. “Curran warned Bryant to stay away from me. So far he has, but that could change. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “It won’t.”

  “You don’t know that,” she says.

  “Wren, look around,” I tell her. “My company is virtual fortress. There’s no safer place for you or us. Work for me.”

  For a long moment, she doesn’t respond. Her gaze on mine as if waiting for me to reconsider. When I don’t she finally says, “If I work here, he’ll think we’re together.”

  “Let him. It’s what I want for us.”

  She regards me as if I’m mad. “But if I work here, we can’t be together,” she says slowly. “I can’t have sex with you.”

  I freeze, my mind taking me back to the time I was six and I learned there was no Santa Claus. “You don’t want me?”

  Ardor warms her stare. “You know that’s not true. But if I take this job, I can’t have you, not like that.” She groans. “Things are messy. You understand? I was part of a really bad relationship with a twisted and cruel man. And now this hot guy, I can’t have, wants me working directly under him.” She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

  “Why can’t you have me?” I ask. “Hear me out,” I add when she regards me as if I’ve lost my mind. “I would never ask or obligate you to anything you didn’t want to do. But you’re an exceptional woman, who can help me with the challenges I’m facing. So why can’t we have both? We’ll see each other, and we’ll help each other. To me, it’s a win for both sides.”

  “Because I already screwed up once, pretty damn bad considering the type of man that I dated. I don’t want to screw up again, not with you. You and me, sleeping together and working together, that doesn’t just have the potential to wreck things to hell, it has the ability to implode with like, flying monkeys flinging flaming chunks of zombie bits. You know, End of Days crap.”

  “Then we won’t sleep together,” I tell her, ignoring her reference and the shock riddling her features. I don’t blame her for doubting me. I’d take her to bed now, if I could. But I don’t want to ruin what we could have. Just as she’s made mistakes with past lovers, I have as well.

  Her silky strands glide through my fingers as I push her hair behind her shoulder. “You came here to tell me goodbye despite your desire for more.” She bites down on her bottom lip, the motion confirming my thoughts. “If you take the other job, it will be goodbye given the schedule I keep. That’s not what I want.”

  “I don’t want that either,” she admits. “Before all this, I wanted to get to know you.”

  “Then say you’ll stay. Here, you’ll know me at my best and worst.” I smile softly. “And with time, I’ll know you in the same manner.” My lips pass over her cheek. “We don’t have to touch or wake up next to each other, never mind that I want to.”

  She shudders when I whisper against her ear, “Very much want to.”

  “Evan,” she says, her words releasing with a soft moan.

  “The decision is yours,” I say. I step away, although the last thing I want between us is distance.

  She crosses her arms, appearing torn. “I don’t know what’s happening with Bryant,” she says. “But my gut tells me he’s not done with me.”

  “This is one of the most secure buildings in the city,” I remind her. “He can’t hurt you here. And if he tries, I’ll make him regret the day he was born.”

  An emotion I don’t recognize flashes across her face. She turns away, reaching for her phone as she walks out. I follow her, certain she’s leaving until she opens the cupboard behind the desk and tosses her purse inside.

  “Hey, Marcelo. It’s Wren O’Brien,” she says into the phone. “I’m sorry to call you at the last minute, but I won’t be available to see you.” She looks up, the corners of her full lips, lifting into a hopeful smile. “I just accepted another job.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Wren

  Evan wasn’t kidding when he said he was overwhelmed. It was almost one in the morning when he insisted I go home last night. He walked me to my truck and returned back to the office, but not before bending to kiss my cheek.

  “Thank you,” he’d said.

  My fingertips circle the spot where his lips brushed over mine last night, and every night for the past two weeks since I started working here. I can tell he wanted to do more. And he’s not alone.

  Hotness and brilliance aside, Evan is a total sweetheart. But not everyone sees that side. His staff of engineers, techies, financial advisors, marketing and legal teams, bustle in and out of his office all day long. He takes meeting after meeting, directing them so they can give him what he wants, or brainstorming with them when the
y can’t. They see a professional man driven to succeed, but while he’s polite, he keeps a professional distance. Except when it comes to me.

  As much as I’m flattered, I want others to see the real Evan, the man who wants his company to succeed not just for him, but for them, and everyone who can benefit from his vision.

  “Hi, Wren.” The little intern grins when he sees me. “Here’s the coffee for Mr. Jonah.” He waits, appearing nervous. “Do you want me to bring it into him?”

  “No, he’s in a meeting. I’ll do it.”

  The kid’s puny frame sags with relief. Like too many people who work here, he’s worried about getting sacked.

  The door to his office opens and everyone piles out. No one looks happy, which of course sends the intern bolting. I email the proposal I’m working on, making sure I smile at everyone leaving and reach for Evan’s coffee.

  “Come in,” he calls when I knock.

  I find him slumped forward with his head on his forearms and his sleeves rolled up. His glasses lay in front of him while the multiple screens in front of him create a strobe effect along his dark blue shirt.

  This is another side of Evan most don’t see either. But he knows I always ring his office when someone else is with me.

  My hips swing a little too seductively in these heels. Not that he notices with his head laying on his arms the way it is. In a way, I wish he did and that I could spend the night tangled in the sheets with him. But I want to do right by Evan.

  The more I know him, the more I realize how human he is.

  When he first caught the business world’s eye back in London, he graced the covers of all the money mags. Now, any references made about him are buried between larger columns applauding the next big business mogul. And instead of praising Evan, they only mention the “tremendous loss in revenue under his leadership” and the “empire on a bridge of collapse”.

  The latest column bashed him for all the people fired “amidst rumors of his inability to afford talent”. The rumors (of course) were confirmed by Ashleigh Mitchum, former assistant and chief administrative lead, who was more than happy to rip Evan to shreds. Oh, but she was careful not to say anything that could be construed as libel.

  That didn’t mean I didn’t want to punch her in the nose, especially when I saw her smug face featured in the middle of the article.

  Christ. It’s like no one cares about the millions of dollars and tech he’s donated to hospitals and schools that serve the underprivileged worldwide.

  But I do.

  His kindness adds to his allure, and gives me hope that a healthy relationship is something I can have. But it’s like I did too much, too soon, and maybe sent us accelerating full-speed ahead instead of taking our time to enjoy the ride.

  Don’t get me wrong the sex was mind-blowing. But damn it, I want more.

  I want, I don’t know, love.

  I place the coffee in front of him and go around to massage his shoulders. “So, how did the finance meeting go?”

  My sarcasm isn’t lost on him and he chuckles. “About as well as you can imagine. What time is my next sales meeting?”

  “Quarter to eleven.”

  “Quarter to eleven?” he asks, shifting his weight. “That’s an odd time.”

  “I have a hairstylist coming in at ten-thirty to cut your hair. She’s fast, good and promised to hook you up.” My hands glide in wide smooth strokes. “I’ll be in to supervise.”

  “I thought you said she’s good.”

  “Oh, she’s the best,” I admit. “But she’s also kind of slutty, and no way in hell am I leaving her alone with you.”

  His laughter turns to groaning real fast when I find a knot in his shoulder. “Jeeze, bossman. What the hell did you do to yourself?”

  “I think it’s the way I slept on the couch.” He tenses beneath my touch. I don’t have to look at him to know he’s grimacing. “Yes. Right there.”

  His fingers press against the sleek mahogany when I go deeper. “Do you want me to hook you up with a chiropractor? I know a guy, but I don’t think he makes house calls.”

  “No,” he bites out, letting his head droop forward. “There are days I don’t make it home. I don’t have time to leave this office to go to another.”

  He doesn’t have time to do a lot of things, including take care of himself. But that’s why he has me. It’s funny, as much as we’re not getting naked we are becoming more intimate, making me want him more.

  I shake out my hands and move down his back. “Are you sure? It’s like every inch of muscle along your back has been tied in knots. I can’t even imagine the condition your spine is in.”

  He thinks about it. “Maybe you could schedule a masseuse. They often travel directly to their clients.”

  “You sayin’ I don’t give good massage?” I ask in my thickest Philly accent.

  His shoulders tremble as he laughs, but as he settles, the strain in his muscles seem to double. “Not at all. I like you touching me.” He waits and adds, “Perhaps a little too much.”

  I can’t help the smile that comes. “Oh, yeah? Then why are you talking about me hiring some hot masseuse who can come here and give you a happy ending?”

  “I never said she had to be hot,” he says.

  “But you wouldn’t deny that happy ending if she offered, would you?” I tease.

  I expect him to laugh, but he doesn’t. “Like I mentioned, you’re the one I want touching me.”

  “Good,” I tell him, quietly.

  I flex my fingers a few times and return to his shoulders, working them in longer gentler strokes. “You’re very good to me,” he says.

  “I can say the same about you,” I tell him.

  “I don’t agree.” He eases himself up when I return to his shoulders. “If I were, I’d take you home and make you dinner, rather than keep you here working late.”

  “You’d make me dinner?” I ask.

  He tilts his head so I can see him. “There are a lot of things I would do for you, Wren.”

  My hands glide down to his pecs. “There are a lot of things I would do for you, too, bossman,” I whisper.

  Like the rest of him, the muscles lining his chest strain beneath my fingers. I want to stay and play, I want to do a lot of things right now. But the hot union of sweating body parts doesn’t a great relationship make. With Evan, it’s safe to say I want it all, a good time in and out of bed.

  “Can I talk you about something?” I ask.

  The shift in my tone alerts him that at least for now, I’m done flirting. He leans his head forward, rubbing the spot on his shoulder I spent a lot of time on. “Does it involve me making more decisions?”

  I adjust my position and his so I can reach his lower back. “Of course it does, but that’s why they pay you the big bucks, and why you’re going to launch this company into the cosmos.”

  He groans. I’m not sure if it’s from his lingering doubts or because he’s already fearing what I have to say. “Your administrative staff kind of sucks,” I tell him truthfully.

  His groans increase even though my kneading grows lighter. Well, at least I know where he’s coming from.

  “And your mid-level staff isn’t that much better. But the good ones you have are awesome.”

  “Tell me something I’m not aware of,” he says.

  “Okay. I’ve assembled a team.”

  He stills beneath me, lifting his head. “What?”

  “A team of specialists you might say.” I cup his neck so my fingers and thumb work both sides.

  “And who might these specialists be?”

  “Most are car reps. Some worked in finance and even fewer worked desk jobs. But we need more support staff so I made a few calls.”

  “Car reps?” he repeats.

  I’m not sure if he’s fixated on those two words or if he thinks I’m screwing with him. “I’ll show you what I mean.” I scoot around him and pull up my proposal on his workstation, a mammoth piece of machinery w
ith multiple screens that lifts up from the front of his desk with a verbal command.

  The first picture that appears is Oscar’s. Not the ray of sunshine he was expecting.

  “Isn’t this the man who was rude to your friend?”

  “Oh, yeah, he’s a total asshole, but he’s smart and an animal when it comes to sales. It’s the reason we’re always neck and neck in revenue.” I scroll down, showing him a picture of each rep, followed by their level of experience. It puts a face to a name and makes it more personal. Not that Evan seems blown away.

  “Wren, there’s over thirty people here. I can’t hire thirty people.”

  He pushes away from the desk and rubs his face. It’s something he does when he’s close to his limit.

  I plop onto his lap, shocking us both. But I hate seeing him like this and want to feel close to him. A man so consumed with running an empire can become lost and isolate himself from the rest of the world. He needs reminding I’m on his side, and that he’s not alone.

  His hand slides along my hip and onto my ass. I smile. Maybe he needs to feel close to me, too. “Hear me out, okay?”

  “All right,” he answers.

  I have a lot to say, but don’t say it right away, taking a moment to play with the hair curling along the edges of his ears. He didn’t shave today, and if it wasn’t for the dress shirt, he’d resemble a sexy construction worker ready to pound nails. But he did wear the shirt, reminding me that this is business and not play. Damn, no matter how much I want to play. Hard to be a good girl when all I crave is time with him in bed.

  “Your marketing team isn’t hungry enough. Most are burnt out or just here for the paycheck. These guys,” I say, jerking my head in the direction of the screen. “Are out of work. They’re not just hungry, they’re starving.”

  “I can’t pay them,” he says. “My recent dismissals have allowed me to save some money, but not enough to hire all these people. It’s only enough to keep those I have.”

  “How bad is it?” I ask, seeing beyond the specks of gold in his irises to the worry lurking beneath.

  “Bad enough that I’ve given up my salary to keep us afloat.”