But I was sure we could do something about her store, if not re-consider the placement of the parking, perhaps we could discuss compensation. In fact, someone should have already been on that. I grabbed my phone off the bedside table and sent a quick text. My team was used to my all-hours style of communications. You wanted to make the kind of money we made at Kavanaugh Investors, you signed away your life to the company. There was no such thing as time off.
I, personally, had never experienced time off. I’d taken vacations, of course, to gorgeous and exotic locations, but I never actually unplugged. When you ran an international company with stakes in far-flung ventures all over the world, business traveled with you. Every meal was an opportunity to network, every moment filled with an ever-changing list of Must Do On Fire items.
I’d like some time off with Caroline, though. With my phone conveniently dropped into a tank of water and the door locked to whatever room we occupied. When I’d taken a chance earlier tonight and grabbed her, clasped her in my arms, pulled her to my chest and kissed her, she’d melted against me instantly. Signing, clinging, kissing me back with such an aching desire. I’d known the spark between us was hot, but to get that turned on from just a kiss?
I brought my hand down to my cock, bulging and erect in my briefs. I’d told her to touch herself tonight. Had she? I slipped my hand under the waistband and wrapped it around my shaft. Stroking leisurely, taking my time, I wondered what she’d done when she’d gotten home. Had she resisted the urge, tried to go right to bed like a good girl but then tossed and turned, unable to sleep until she gave in? Or had she caved right away, stepping out of her jeans the second she got into her bedroom and plunging her hand down to her sweet pussy?
She’d gotten wet from our flirting, I could tell. The way her breath caught in her chest. How she bit down on her lip. When I placed a hand around her waist, she’d leaned into me, wanting more of my touch. And out at the limo, her amazing breasts, so full and ripe. When I’d kissed her, her nipples had stiffened with arousal, pushing against her bra, her T-shirt, making me crazy.
I needed to get her alone so I could treat her right. Take that nipple right into my mouth and play with her, suck her, lick and bite and listen to her moan. She’d need to be tied up to let me do it. Otherwise she’d be too shy, too reserved and shocked to let me take my time the way I needed. So she’d have to give up control. I couldn’t wait to see her bound again, those sensitive wrists I’d stroked tied together but to my bedpost this time where she could pull and twist and scream as much as she wanted while I played.
Damn it. I sat up. What was I doing, jerking off like a teenager? I didn’t want to come in a goddamned gym sock. I wanted to come all over Caroline’s huge, ripe tits. She could spread it all over her breasts, feeling how I’d marked her while I ate out her pussy and made her come while she screamed my name.
I knew any number of women I could call. Women I knew from school, from circles of friends in New York. They’d be thrilled to hear from me and would probably show up at my hotel room in designer lingerie within the hour. Or I could head to the private party I’d been invited to by one of the guys from dinner. I knew the club he mentioned, so I knew what kind of party it would be. A select few would be invited to view the show on a stage draped in velvet yet styled after a dungeon. Then there’d be private rooms for anyone interested in continuing with their own shows.
Or I could take a cold shower. I had an early flight. That had never stopped me before, but tonight I didn’t want other women. I wanted Caroline Porter. Naked. Now.
That shower didn’t exactly get set to cold. In the steamy, hot pulse of water I took my cock back into my hand and let myself fantasize. Stroking, pulling, picking up the rhythm, I could imagine her lying across her bed, her head tossed to the side, eyes closed as she worked her pussy. Moaning, pressing against her hand, she wouldn’t want to be so turned on, but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t help thinking about me as she came, calling out my name. Just like I couldn’t help coming, hard, calling out hers.
§
Nine a.m. the following morning, Caroline walked into the small conference room at the Redwood Bay Chamber of Commerce. She’d dressed up, with an ivory blouse and a knee-length dusty rose skirt, so feminine, all curves. She wore ballet flats and she made it work on her, but I wanted to see her in heels again. Like those boots she’d worn last night. Or some stacked heels, all straps, just those and nothing else.
“Good morning,” she said to everyone in the room, taking a vacant seat across the table from me. All the better to watch you in, my dear. I gave her a wolfish smile.
“How was your night last night?” I asked her. “Sleep well?” None of the other five or six people in the room looked askance at the question. But she knew exactly what I had on my mind.
She’d been trying to take a sip of her coffee. Now she sputtered and flapped her hands, bringing one over her lips as her cheeks flushed pink. Swallowing, taking a deep breath, she answered, “Just fine, thanks!” not meeting my eyes. Oh, she’d followed my instructions. And she’d liked doing it.
The meeting dragged on, possibly the longest half hour I’d ever wasted in my life. Except for the view. I never would have devoted my time to their ridiculous list of demands—just the kind of thing perfect for delegating—but it all became worth it when Caroline rose to speak.
She had some slides and she stood at the front of the table, clearly hating every minute of it. She didn’t like the spotlight. I’d picked up on that last night at the bar. And now she squirmed with discomfort over having to be the spokesperson for the protest, laboring her way through densely worded slides and text elaborating on the phylum and species of various coastal lichens.
“Excuse me.” I cleared my throat and drew her attention. She hadn’t looked up once during her entire presentation, her eyes glued to the paper she clutched in her hands. I shouldn’t play with her. But I had to.
“Yes?” she asked, reluctant, distrustful.
“Could you repeat the name of that lichen species you just mentioned? Bryoria…?”
She glared at me, clearly wanting to tell me the name of the species was Fuck You, Fuck Off. But she didn’t, she said the seven-syllable name again, with effort.
“Thank you.”
“Are you taking notes?” she asked, looking down at the completely empty table space in front of me.
“It’s all up here.” I tapped my head. She looked like she wanted to kill me. And, yes, I was just fucking with her. It was also true that I had a nearly photographic memory. Tell me or show me something once and it went in the vault. Like it or not, I’d now k
now the name of that lichen species for the rest of my life.
After she spoke, other people spoke, and then, finally, they wrapped it up. Everyone looked at me expectantly. I hadn’t even been listening, just gazing at Caroline as she fiddled with her pen, bit her lip and tried very hard to not look up and over at me. I didn’t remember when I’d last enjoyed disconcerting someone so much.
“Excellent points,” I agreed, standing up. “I’m going to need to discuss them further with Caroline.”
That got her to look up. “What?”
“Those were some pretty dense slides,” I remarked, shaking my head. “I’m going to need you to go over them with me again.”
“We’ve also made you a copy for your review. And some additional information.” A woman to my left spoke in a near-whisper and handed me a stack of about 700 sheets of paper. And they called themselves an environmental group.
“Don’t you have a response now?” Caroline asked, incredulous.
“Rome wasn’t built in a day,” I informed her.
“Yeah, but we’re not asking you to build here. We’re asking you to NOT build here.” She spoke to me slowly, as if I were having trouble understanding, fire flashing in her eyes. I smiled.
“There are many finer points I’d like to discuss in greater detail with you.”
“Talk to him,” a guy sitting next to her hissed under his breath, clearly frustrated with her resistance.
“Fine. Do you want to just stay here and…I can go over the slides again?” She said it as if suggesting dental surgery.
“Everyone else can go.” I dismissed the rest of the group. They weren’t required.
She fidgeted while they filed out, adjusting her skirt, straightening her papers, not looking at me. I slowly walked around the table, coming to join her by her side.
“You’re going to have to look at me when we go out to dinner,” I teased.
She rolled her eyes. “Who said anything about going out to dinner?”