We sit in the silence with the city twinkling around us for longer than I can bear. The need to fuck and the urge to soothe is too much. And truce or not, emotions and feelings are further than we can go.
Grabbing the bottle, I stand, the loss far too palpable.
“He won’t answer my calls.”
The waver in her voice makes me pause, and the sight of her at my feet is more satisfying than any liquor or workout or…
Stop, I tell myself before things get more complicated than they need to be.
Reaching down, I grasp Ava’s hand and pull her to her feet. Before the silence engulfs us again, I say the one thing that will douse whatever this is. “I’m an asshole. He’s an asshole. We’re all assholes.”
As I predicted, she pulls back with a snarl. “My father is not an asshole.”
“Yeah, he is.” Heading back to the drink cart by my desk, I place the bottle of whiskey back. When I turn, she’s right there, so close that I can feel her potent heat.
“No.”
“Yes,” I snap at her.
Ava takes a step back. My desk at her ass blocks her escape.
“It’s what it takes to be who we are. Mice can’t fight lions.”
“Sometimes they do,” she retorts with a growl.
“In fairy tales perhaps. But not in boardrooms. You ever think that’s why he picked Marsh over you?” Her hand flies through the air, and I only just manage to catch it in mine before it greets my face. “You’re soft, Ava. You believe in peace and harmony and kumbayas. But that’s not how this world works.”
“I hate you so much.”
“Because I’m right.”
“You ruined everything.” She fists the unbuttoned collar of my shirt.
“You came to me. You left your family and came here. Did you think that you were going to get special treatment?” Her audible swallow is all the answer I get. “I’m not that guy, and you’re not that woman. You’re better. You deserve to be at the top, but you need to wise up on what that entails.”
Pulling away from her, I give her space to walk away. There’s no hesitation. She slips her heels back on and grabs her things from the coffee table. And although the place feels like it magnifies with every step she takes away from me, I hold my ground.
Before she makes it out of the door, I tell her, “Truce is over.”
There’s no place for feelings in business. After all, isn’t that what I just preached to her?
Chapter Six
DAMON
The sun rises high above the cityscape. Grayson from legal sits opposite me with a scowl on his face. We’d agreed to give the transition a cooling period before we announced Robert Rhodes as one of ours. We should’ve had enough time to produce a real fanfare that would’ve been the focus of the media this morning. Instead, people are talking about publishing wars, broken families, and sordid affairs.
“Fix this.” I slam my hands down on my desk in frustration. I’ve never made headlines; I’ve made darn sure that the only headlines I’m a part of are the ones reported by the media umbrella of CPM.
“Damon, the media is the least of your concerns. This suit…” He gestures down at the paperwork on the desk with both hands. “You didn’t even give Monroe twenty-four hours before you made the announcement.”
“Somebody leaked the news. I wasn’t going to let it become worthless gossip. This needed a bang.” Standing, I toy with the different bottles of whiskey on the cart beside my desk. “We’ve been sued before.”
“Not like this, and certainly not this publicly.”
I check my watch. It’s barely past seven in the morning, but… Fuck it.
I pick a twelve-year-old Japanese single malt. The honeyed color and sweetness bring out Ava’s delicate scent still trapped between these walls. My mouth waters as I pour and then inhale the warm liquor.
Dex saunters in unannounced with Fran hot on his heels. It feels like my office has become a revolving door for everyone. No one bothers to fucking knock anymore.
Taking the whiskey from me, Fran hands me a cup of coffee. “Let’s stick to the soft stuff this morning.” She smiles, sitting on the edge of my desk. When I sit back into my chair, she leans forward, smoothing over the creased shirt I’ve had on my back for almost twenty-four hours.
“What do you want to do?” Fran asks, sniffing the whiskey she’s still holding. “Fuck, I miss this so much.”
Her hand falls from my shoulder to then settle on her stomach like she needs a reminder of why she can’t have a hard drink. “I’ve gone through the figures, and you have options, but as CFO, I have to remind you that a loss like this will affect our turnover dramatically.”
“The only option here is to cut the Monroe girl loose.” Dex leans over the side of my desk. “It’s not about options or what you want to do. It’s about what needs to be done. This whole thing has gone far enough, Damon. Monroe isn’t worth it.”
“God, you’re a pussy,” Fran spits at him. “The whole point was to weaken them. Take away their most valuable assets to bring their market value down.”
“You’re all fucking crazy.” Grayson blows out a long breath. “But a lawsuit of this magnitude puts them in an awkward position, and it could be beneficial in terms of a buyout.”
“See?” Fran sticks her tongue out at Dex. “Options, dickhead.”
“So mature, Franny. My faith in your mothering abilities just rocketed.”
“More than I can say for my faith in your dick ability.” Rolling her eyes, she focuses back on me, putting the whiskey down before she reaches for her large purse and takes out her MacBook. “I looked into the baller biography you mentioned yesterday. I’m not into basketball, but from my googling, I got the impression Callum Warner is king of the court right now.”
“Callum Warner is writing a book?” Dex pulls up a chair from the small meeting table. “Can he even read?”
“God, you’re an entitled prick, you know that?” Fran grits out. “Anyway, he’s set to earn over three hundred million this season on endorsements alone. That’s impressive and it tells me that whatever he puts out will bring in enough to swallow any loss.” She laughs, and jumping from my desk she adds, “Now tell me my game is off!”
The look she gives me is identical to yesterday’s outside the boardroom.
“This isn’t college. Stop using me to make her jealous.”
“Getting knocked up has cost you your game.”
Looking up at me, she laughs. “Careful, Damon, you might actually care about this one.”
Fran isn’t wrong, but she’s not right either. I care about Ava. I care about her assets and what she can bring to my company. It’s why I wanted her here in the first place.
“She’s an asset,” I grumble at her.
“Oh, gathered that when I looked up Warner’s agent.”
“What the fuck are the two of you talking about?” Dexter groans, echoing Grayson.
“I’m going to go over this again. Find a loophole or make one that will stand up. Just don’t fuck any more shit up, all right?” Grayson collects his things, and before he leaves, he presses a kiss to the top of Fran’s head. “I love you. Stay out of trouble.”
“Aww,” Dexter teases her when Grayson disappears out of the door. “Pity you won’t agree to marry him.”
“Shut up, asshole!” she smarts back at him. “Anyway, I need to talk to my boss alone.”
“Technically I’m your boss too.”
“Technically you can go fuck yourself. Now, seriously…I have womb talk to tend to.”
Ugh, I knew this was coming. I’ve tried to put it off as much as I can because I don’t want to think about Fran leaving CPM, even if it is just for a year or so, until the baby is old enough to be left with childcare. I’ve tried to talk to her about options, but a wet nurse is too medieval, and the idea of breastfeeding at work isn’t appealing to her either. Ugh!
When Dex leaves us, she takes his chair and sits there looking at m
e with narrowed eyes.
“Go on, tell me the bad news.” I twist to face her. “I’m still all for a wet nurse or opening a company crèche.”
“You’re a bad, bad man, Damon Coldwell.”
“The crèche would benefit the staff…”
“I’m not talking about maternity leave. We’ve settled that. Come end of June I’m officially out of here, and I won’t be coming back for a year. We discussed this—we agreed.” She rolls her eyes as she twists her MacBook to me. “If this was the real reason for bringing Ava here, why bother with Rhodes?”
I look over the photo of Ava and her friend. She’s perfection; thick pink lips, neat straight nose, and piercing eyes that feel like they see right into your soul, even in the picture.
“Why not?”
“I’m a pregnant woman. Don’t make me exert myself.”
“Business, that’s why. Monroe were meant to be too busy licking their wounds to make a move for Callum Warner.”
“But not only have they made a play for him, they’re suing the shit out of our asses!”
“Like you said, Warner will more than swallow any losses.”
“And Ava?” Fran scoots her chair closer until her knees touch mine. “Are you prepared to lose her?”
“Once Warner is in…”
“I’m going to stop you right there before you become a liar to everyone around you.” Cupping my jaw, she leans closer. “I’ve always loved you, Damon. You’re the brother I never had. I’ve held my tongue and waited for you to realize that this…” She looks around us. “This place isn’t everything. I mean, you’ve had everything all your life. Your parents loved you beyond reason. They gave you the best life possible with all the things a person could ever want or need. You have no reason to be this man. You might think you don’t care if she leaves, but that’s because she’s here now. Don’t spite your heart for the sake of your wallet and your pride.”
She stares me out with soft glittering eyes. And while her hands smooth down my face, I hold in all the things I want to retort.
Standing, she sighs as she packs her laptop back into her purse. I walk her toward my office door, pausing halfway to adjust my shirt.
“Listen,” she breathes, stepping to me. Her hands busy themselves righting me before they land on my chest. “It doesn’t matter what Grayson and Dex say. At the end of the day, this is your company and you can do whatever you want.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“I’ve told you a thousand times before, I’ll always have your back. But please, make sure Warner happens. As the CFO, I’d like to leave with fireworks and champagne popping.”
“You can’t even drink.” A laugh finally leaves my lips, and she wraps her arms tightly around me.
“I’ll get drunk off the smell.”
I hug her back, and in the middle of our snickers, a soft “Oh” breaks us apart.
Chapter Seven
DAMON
Ava stands frozen in the open doorway, eyes flitting between Fran and me.
“I’m sorry,” she finally speaks. “I can come back later.”
Licking her red painted lips, she looks at me with disappointment furrowing her brows.
I hate it. I hate that all I can think about is how I want to devour her mouth. How much I want to push Fran out of the door so I can have her.
“We’re done here,” Fran says, walking past her. When she’s out of Ava’s sight, she looks back at me and winks while closing the door.
God, she’s such a girl sometimes.
I head back to my messy desk, and before I sit down, a white envelope lands in front of me.
“I saw the headlines,” Ava murmurs. “You got what you wanted. I can’t go back to Monroe after this and…” She pauses when I rise and round the desk. “And I can’t stay here.”
Fran’s words swirl around my head—Are you prepared to lose her?
I fucking hate her sometimes. She’s always getting into my business.
Picking the envelope up, I put it in Ava’s hand.
“Rip it.” I level her soft gaze with my pissed-off one.
I knew she’d bolt first chance she got. I just didn’t think she’d pick a shitstorm of a day.
Maybe she’s more lion than I thought.
“Damon…” She holds it out to me.
“I said rip it up.” Grabbing her other hand, I close it around the envelope. “I told you, you only leave when I say. Until then I own you.”
“You don’t own shit,” she laughs with tears flooding her eyes. “Blackmail doesn’t give you ownership of me.”
“Then walk out, Ava.” In spite of my anger, I step closer. “Leave. After all, the press will want something new to expose of you.”
“What is wrong with you?” Her growl vibrates through me with a fire so strong that all I can do is grab her and throw her on the desk. Leaning over her, I brace myself on the cluttered tabletop with my dick hardening in my pants. “I’m trying to help you!” she spits breathlessly.
The only thing she’s doing is driving me insane. Her shimmering eyes soften as I lower myself on her. My erection presses to the bottom of her stomach and throbs to my hammering pulse as I breathe her in greedily.
“You don’t need me anymore.”
I need her more now than I did before, because I won’t take a hit lying down, and I certainly won’t lose to anyone. Especially not a blind old man.
Ava looks perplexed as I stand and pull her up to a sitting position.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
Surprisingly there’s no argument, only scrutiny and deep consideration while she silently studies me. Eyes roaming up and down my chest, they settle blankly on the open collar.
“You didn’t go home.” She drops the envelope scrunched up in her hand and presses her manicured finger to the first done-up button.
I bark a curt laugh, and when she looks up at me with those ocean eyes brimming with pity, my clenched mouth loosens.
“I have one thousand four hundred and thirty-three people on my payroll that I can’t let down. So no, I didn’t go home.”
Her eyes soften, dropping down my front to where her legs are spread around me.
I hate her so much. I hate that she can so easily unravel me. I hate that she has the audacity to pity me. And most of all I hate that even hating Ava, all I can think about right now is fucking her. All I want is to bury myself in her and punish her flesh for all the ways she’s got me all fucked up.
“What do you want from me, Damon?” she asks, her finger raking down my front to the top of my belt.
Her chest is heaving. Her voice is raspy. Her cheeks are warmed crimson.
“You,” I state.
“You can’t have me.” She’s wrong. I can have her, and the way her body opens up a little more for me, coming closer so that her cunt hovers over my hard-on…it’s all the proof I need.
Lowering myself into Grayson’s vacated chair, I bring myself flush to her, my chest bracketed by her thighs as I breathe into her chest, “I already have.”
Ava tries to push away, but in her efforts, she lands in my lap, and when she tries to stand, I hold her down.
“You can’t have me!”
“But I can smell how much you want it.”
“I meant professionally.” She pushes the heels of her hands into my chest and launches herself off me. She stumbles a little in her high heels, but when she finds her balance, she perches on the edge of the desk. “What do you want, Damon?”
I can tell she’ll give whatever I ask for, so long as I don’t make her accept the fact that she wants me more than she can bear. It’s an affliction we share.
“Callum Warner.”
She levels me with a heated glare and her cute little nose flaring. She’s angry. I like angry Ava.
“No, I’m not—”
“You are because there’s no one else that can land him as easily as you.”
“If that’s what you wanted to
begin with, you got the wrong woman,” she snarks. When she tries to stand, I rise and block her. “You must really think very little of me.”
“On the contrary, if I did, I wouldn’t want you here, and I certainly wouldn’t have fucked you.”
“Stop!” Her hand pushes to the base of my neck. “I won’t play your game anymore.”
“Yeah, you will.” I lean over her even as her hand tightens around my throat. “Because you want to. You want to take as much from Marsh as he took from you. It’s why you’re here. To prove you’re better.”
“I know I’m better, just as I know you’re trying to play me again.”
“I’m giving you the opportunity to break him.”
Ava swallows. She can pretend she’s holier than me, but we’re exactly the same. She only needs to accept it and embrace it.
“Take what you want, Ava,” I whisper into her ear.
“You don’t know what I want.”
“Yes, I do.” I nudge her legs open wider, lodging myself flush to her. “I know exactly what you want.” Closing my hand around her slender throat, I press my thumb to the bottom of her jaw.
I want it too.
With her head tipped back, her hair cascading around her, it’s impossible not to undress her with my eyes. It’s impossible for me to contain any of my need to take what I want right now.
I lick up her neck to her ear. “You want it as much as I do.”
There’s no argument. Her pulse pounds in my hand, the skin beneath my lips prickling with her desire.
Hands flattened to my stomach, she gasps, “Where’s the camera? I’d like to know where to look this time.”
It’s cute she’s still sassing me, but it’s pointless.
I run the tip of my nose over the side of her face before touching our foreheads so that our eyes are boring into each other. “Cheese, little mouse.”
Standing, I bring her up with me, and when she’s on her feet, I spin her to face the city below us.
Without my aid Ava sheds the black leather jacket she’s wearing over her clingy, black wool dress. Peering over her shoulder at me, she twists her hair over the other suggestively. In a bid for control, she folds her body over my desk, her gaze unwavering from mine while she hitches her dress up her legs and over her ass.
Forbidden: A Romance Anthology Page 31
