And wonder, why would he care about who I dated or whether I was over them or not? This man had to be a grade-A player. He was a billionaire, or at least at the helm of a company valued at a billion dollars, I didn’t know how all that worked. And I never would. We lived in two completely different worlds. We’d happened to collide for a brief, strange moment, but that would surely be all.
“There’s no reason you’d care about whether or not I’m over my last boyfriend.” It wasn’t an accusation or an attempt to get him to protest. It was a mere statement of fact.
“Yet, strangely enough I do.” He looked down at me in the shadowy light, part moon, part street lamp. “And I’m glad you’re over him.” Brushing his knuckles lightly along my cheek, he cherished me with his touch. I had to look down. It suddenly felt so intimate.
“Well, I’m glad I’m getting to you,” I joked, awkward with how serious he seemed. “My friend Hannah did tell me to use my feminine charms to persuade you to not build the resort here.”
“Oh, I’m still building the resort here,” he assured me, not missing a beat. He didn’t even take his hand away from my cheek. But I pulled away.
“What?” Had I heard him correctly?
“I’m still building here. That’s not in question.” Arrogance, thy name was Colton Kavanaugh. My mouth fell slightly open. He really wasn’t trying to sweet talk me, was he? He apparently assumed everyone ate out of the palm of his hand no matter what he did. Despite my reaction, he kept right on with the seduction. “What I also want to do while I’m in town is sample what you have to offer.”
“Is that right?” I drew myself up to my full height plus heels. “Well, it’s your lucky day because I do have something to offer you.” I held up my middle finger right in front of his face. “How do you like that? Is that to your liking?”
He looked down at it, unphased. Then he looked back up at me with an amused smirk. “It’s not what I had in mind.”
“I’m done here!” I declared starting to spin on my heels.
“Wait, there’s something I want to show you first.”
Before I knew what was happening he wrapped his arms around me and brought his head down to mine, capturing my mouth with his in a searing, dominant kiss. His hands holding me close, his lips searched mine. I found my arms up then around his shoulders, my hands buried in his hair, entwining around him, grabbing, clutching. He kissed me so deeply, so fervently, his tongue at once so teasing and rewarding, exploring and claiming. I wanted more of him, more of his hard body pressed against mine, more of his lips and tongue and hands roaming down along my ass, cupping me, pressing me against him.
Dazed, swooning, I looked up at him as he broke our kiss, still holding me in his arms as he looked down into my eyes.
“You see how good that felt, Caroline?” he asked, low and wicked as he restored me to standing. Breathless, I needed to hold onto his arms to gain my footing. What strong, hard biceps.
“That’s what I wanted to show you,” he continued. “How good I can make you feel. That’s just a taste of how it’s going to be between us.”
My fingers ran lightly along my lips, still feeling his kiss there, already missing it.
“Now tonight, Caroline, I want you to do something for me.” His eyes grew dark as he leaned in to my ear, his hand lightly cupping the swell of my breast, thumb at my stiff nipple. “I know your sweet pussy is already slick and wet for me.” I gasped at his dirty words. He stroked the pad of his thumb over my aching tip.
“When you get home,” he continued, “I want you to slip your hand down and think about me. Imagine everything I’m going to do to you. I want you touch yourself and think about all those fantasies you’ve had, everything you’ve wanted to explore. And when you come on your pretty little fingers I want you to call out my name. And know the orgasms I’ll give you are going to be even better.”
He released me. Wide-eyed, I turned and walked to my car without saying a word. I didn’t think I could talk. I felt so shocked and turned on and confused and so desperately horny I did the only thing I knew to do. I opened my car, got behind the wheel, started the engine and drove right out of the parking lot.
I made it home. I’d had a single beer, total, so I was OK to drive. The giddy, laughing, crazy whirling-around way I felt? That wasn’t the alcohol. That was all due to Colton Kavanaugh.
I wish I could say I was a good girl. That I got home, had a responsible chat with my younger sister checking in on how her nursing rotations were going, changed into sensible pajamas and turned out the light.
But I didn’t. My sister wasn’t home. And his instructions were too fucking hot. I barely made it into my bedroom before I unbuttoned and ripped off my jeans. My fingers down under my panties, I closed my eyes and moaned. I was already so wet. All that touching and flirting at the bar, the way his hand had felt on my hip, pulling me toward him. His voice, low and demanding, telling me to spread my legs. And that kiss.
I stroked myself just like he’d told me, and that turned me on even more, knowing I was obeying his discipline, following his naughty rules, stroking and circling my throbbing clit. I’d been so aroused, with the seam of my jeans pressing against me the whole ride home. It happened fast, a wild orgasm building up and then tearing through my whole body.
“Colt!” I called out, mouth open wide, eyes closed, fingers up inside my pussy as I shuddered and bucked against my own hand. Panting, gasping, quivering, I couldn’t believe how strong it felt.
And then I remembered the last thing he’d said. The orgasms he’d give me would be even better.
CHAPTER 5
Colt
My night in Palo Alto went as planned. Fine wine, fine dining, fine company. I felt as restless as a tiger in a cage without a fresh meal.
It wasn’t like me. I enjoyed what I did for a living. True, I hadn’t exactly chosen it. I’d more been born into it. I’d risen to expectations.
And, true, every now and then I felt…constrained. Growing up I’d been the rock for my mother, the golden boy for my father, and now I stood at the helm stewarding the entire Kavanaugh fortune. It was a lot to handle every day. But I was tough as hell and smart as a whip and all the rest of it. I knew how to get by on five or six hours of sleep a night, wake up before dawn no matter where I was or what I’d done the night before to get in a killer workout. Physically sharp, mentally sharp. Emotionally? Closed off. That made the most sense.
But I generally enjoyed the pressures of my day-to-day life, the wheeling and dealing, crafting strategy and dodging bullets. I had immense power at my fingertips and it was enough—more than enough—to keep me engaged every minute of every day.
Yet during dinner, I felt distracted. My collar was a little tight. I kept checking my phone. I confirmed and then re-confirmed my planned departure time tomorrow morning.
I wanted to go see Caroline Porter again.
Later on, I lay awake in my lavish hotel suite. I was right at the epicenter of the tech industry in Silicon Valley, ideas and opportunities and new enterprises literally pop-corning all around me. And instead of thriving off of the frenetic energy, diving right in, rolling up my sleeves, mucking around with all the other entrepreneurs, I wondered what was cooking in Redwood Bay, Oregon.
She baked. How about that? Scones and muffins and breads. Apparently pastries were difficult, though. Her eyes had lit up with the challenge when she’d talked about it. That shy reserve, the sweet struggle I so enjoyed watching in her and toying with as she attempted to resist her attraction to me? She’d forgotten all about it once she’d started talking about her passion.
Baking. I didn’t think I’d ever known anyone who’d baked. Was that strange? It had never struck me as strange before. But now I wondered what I’d been missing. It almost seemed like an endeavor from a former era, a time gone by. A day when you couldn’t have anything and everything you wanted delivered to your doorstep within hours, including whatever gourmet baked good you might be craving
.
But that still wasn’t the same as fresh out of the oven, now was it? And I had the most delightful image of Caroline taking out something delicious and piping hot, pulling it apart and stealing a taste before it really even was cool enough but it would be too hard to wait. She’d close her eyes to savor the flavor, her tongue darting out to catch crumbs, a soft moan it tasted so good.
Now I was hard. Damn it. I shifted my position in bed. And wondered whether she’d followed my instructions tonight. I shouldn’t have grabbed her and kissed her like that in the parking lot. That wasn’t my style. I didn’t do impulse and lord knew I never chased women. On the rare occasion that a woman didn’t show interest, I let her walk away, her loss. Who was worth the time and effort of a chase?
Caroline. That delicious struggle she put up in the bar, the way her body called out to me every time I stole a touch, brushed against her, adjusted her stance. Even though she wanted to fight it.
And it sounded like she had reason to protest our plans to build the resort. We were going to demolish her store? No one had told me that. I couldn’t get into the details of every one of our construction sites, of course, but I should have been briefed on that piece of information before I’d shown up to deal with the protests. Then again, the protests had officially been over an endangered species of lichen. That I’d heard about.