Don’t Go Page 6

  The sound of the waves echoed off the balcony, and I immediately braced myself when I felt his hands wrap around me and lift me from the floor. He settled me on a chaise. I hadn’t noticed the set of lounge chairs when we first stepped on the balcony, but there were two side by side. He worked the button on my skirt and began to shimmy it over my hips. It was enough to jar me back to reality.

  “Wait,” I breathed. My head spun.

  He tossed the skirt on a table. “What is it?” He kissed behind my ear as he lowered his body against mine. He was warm.

  I tried to find words. “Th-the interview. You promised me an interview tonight.” I tried to steady my voice. Nothing in me was calm. Every part was raging to touch him.

  His fingers inched over my hips and roamed the inside of my thigh. I tried to read his expression in the dark.

  He sat forward and I worked the buttons open on his shirt. My body was reacting one way, while my mind was trying to latch onto the idea that I still had work to do. I traced the lines of his chest, taking in the way his body was sculpted and athletic. There were ridges under his ribs, and his muscles flexed along his torso. God, he was sexy.

  “Interview?” His mouth was on mine again and I melted into the chaise.

  I nodded, although not convincingly. There was a heat burning between my legs which was taking over all rational thought. Logic was drowning and sinking helplessly against his skilled hands. I started to rock lightly as his fingers moved closer.

  “Yes.” I tried to still my hips. “I have a deadline,” I pleaded uselessly.

  “Go ahead.” He hooked the edge of my panties on his thumb and wiggled them down my thighs. His eyes unyielding. “Ask me a question,” he dared.

  “I can’t interview you like this.” I tried to sit forward, but realized I made it that much easier for him to finish his task. He flung the panties across the deck.

  I was completely naked.

  “Why not?” His hand ran along my ankle, crossing over my knee until he had pressed my thigh to the side.

  I groaned as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of my leg, sending pulses to my core.

  “Afraid you can’t concentrate?”

  Everything about him was laced with teasing and torment. Even his voice.

  He bent to blow air across my breast. It was delicious torture the way he kissed me before moving on to the next part of my body. It made the tightening feeling in my stomach lurch with pleasure. Too much pleasure.

  I reached for the buckle on his pants. To hell with concentration. To hell with logic. Damn the interview. I needed this man. He was driving me wild, teasing and toying with me.

  “I don’t want to concentrate,” I whispered. I slid the leather belt from the loops, and freed him from his pants. I watched in awe as he shed his boxer briefs on the deck floor.

  This was a man who could have been sculpted from a block of stone. I stared in disbelief at the symmetry of his body. His huge cock bobbed in front of me. What did I expect? He was ripped everywhere.

  My palms pressed against the flesh over his heart. He was warm and solid.

  “Good. Because this is all I can think about. Concentrate on me, baby.”

  His tongue parted my lips and I greedily sucked and kissed him, desperate to stop the burning that was raging through my body. It had built to a peak that was so consuming I thought the pain would start to rip me apart if he didn’t fill me. I pressed my nails deep into his back, urging him to take me.

  He hovered over me, his eyes piercing even in the dark. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

  His hand moved between my legs, settling over my heat. His fingers swirled between my slick folds as he pushed a finger inside me.

  I hissed as he sank another finger in my pussy. I clenched against him, bucking for more.

  I couldn’t stop the need tumbling through me as my hips jutted back and forth. He flicked my clit and I whimpered. It felt good how he threaded pleasure and pain together. He thrust inside me again, withdrew and pinched my clit with a twist and I moaned.

  “Oh God.”

  “Spread your legs for me,” he demanded. His lips skimmed over my stomach, dusting my navel with kisses before moving dangerously low.

  My knees fell wide and I watched as he grinned, settling over my clit. He nipped at it and I jerked toward him, hungry for more.

  He drew a long slow lick, his eyes landing on mine. “Such a sweet pussy.”

  “Oh shit,” I whispered as he buried his face in my heat.

  I was lost. The world spun as he drank me in. His tongue darting in and out of my entrance. His teeth nipping. His thirsty moans vibrating against my thighs.

  He lapped forcefully, sucking at my clit while I pressed his head between my legs without shame.

  I was going to come like fireworks launching over the water. Full of explosive force and loss of control.

  “So damn sexy,” he growled.

  My fingers twisted in his dark hair. I had nowhere to go but pressed hard against his face as the orgasm hit me with violent shocks. I pulsed and vibrated, shaking from the intensity.

  Aiden sucked harder, clamping my clit with the sweetest pressure I’d ever felt.

  “Oh my God. Oh my God,” I whimpered, drowning in him.

  My body hummed as the quivering started to subside.

  Aiden leaned forward, kissing my stomach and pulling my nipple between his teeth.

  I wrapped one leg against his waist, pushing him toward me. I arched forward ready to take him, needing to feel him, wanting him to rock my body into total oblivion.

  “See?” I grinned. “I can turn off the reporter side.”

  “It seems so, Miss Strickland.” There was a hungry wolfish grin on his mouth.

  His head twisted to the side. We both heard it. His phone was ringing.

  Aiden hesitated. The pause was long enough for me to believe he might answer it. Any normal person in this situation would ignore it.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked completely breathy.

  He rested on his palms. His movements slowed.

  He sat back on his heels. He shook his head, running in hands through his hair. “Damn it.” He reached for his pants, digging for his phone. He stood, grabbing his pants with him ready to pull them on over his toned legs. “Fuck,” he cursed.

  “Aiden?” I sat forward, realizing none of my clothes were in arm’s reach. I was naked on display on the balcony.

  “Carter, what do you have for me?” He cupped the phone to his cheek.

  He dropped my clothes in a pile at the end of the chair.

  He was cold and distant. How did this happen?

  Before I could protest or wallow in my utter humiliation, he walked inside the condo, sliding the glass door behind him.

  Seven

  Aiden

  “Carter, what the hell is going on?” I demanded.

  “Sorry, it’s late, sir.”

  The last thing I wanted was him to regret the call. If he was going to interrupt me, the least he could do was be confident about it.

  “Don’t apologize. Just tell me.”

  I walked into the bedroom and grabbed a T-shirt from the top dresser drawer. I kept the phone pressed to my ear. I pulled a pair of running shorts on and headed for the bathroom. I splashed my face with cold water, knowing full well I needed to soak in a damn ice bath after what almost happened on the balcony. My cock was a rod of steel and throbbed like hell. What the fuck was I thinking?

  I paced, running my hands through my hair. She was sexy, gorgeous, smart as hell and somehow I had forgotten she was a reporter.

  I felt my body go rigid thinking about what a damn disaster it could have been. I almost fucked the girl on my balcony. I shouldn’t be surprised. She was after something no one had ever gotten.

  Too many drinks, I cursed, although I knew I wasn’t drunk. Far from it. I wanted her. I wanted my name on her lips along with my cock.

  I wanted to fuck her on the balcony. I
wanted to fuck her on her knees. I wanted that girl from the minute I laid eyes on her this morning.

  “Sir?”

  I was shaken back to the present.

  “What, Carter?”

  “Do you want me to send those files by courier?”

  I exhaled. I hadn’t heard a word he had said. Only, that there were papers to sign.

  “Send them down. I’ll be in Padre for a while.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll have them ready tonight.”

  “Anything else?” I was scattered. Distracted. Why did I answer the damn phone?

  “That’s all, sir. I’ll take care of it. Have a good night.”

  I tossed the phone on the bed.

  I dried my face then waited for Veronica in the living room. I thought maybe she would have come back inside by now. After a few minutes the door opened and she walked in. Her shirt was tucked in, her skirt back in its proper place. It was almost as if nothing had happened on the balcony. The only problem was I wasn’t going to be able to forget it. I could still taste her sweet honey on my tongue. Hear her moans in my ear.

  “Sorry about that.” I cleared my throat. “It was my assistant from the Dallas office. He usually calls for a good reason. Usually.” I smiled. “I realize it’s late and you have a deadline. I apologize, Miss Strickland.” Using her last name reminded me this was supposed to be a professional exchange. Maybe it would remind me how much I hated the press.

  Her eyes focused on the floor. “Thanks for being so concerned.” The sarcastic tone was tinted with something soft.

  My chest tightened.

  I had fucked this up. Whether she wanted to have sex or not, it didn’t matter. I slept with a lot of women, but not ones who could cause problems for my empire. And a business beat reporter could do just that. Only I hadn’t made all of that clear to her.

  I should have stuck with my gut instincts and left her the hell alone, but I was feeling cocky from the deal and too many drinks. Shove a gorgeous woman in my hands, and there was only one way I was going to react. I wanted to kick myself for thinking it was okay to take her home. For thinking I could ignore who she was. Who I was.

  I stood and walked into the kitchen. Kaitlyn had set me up with one of her fancy one-cup coffee dispensers. I threw in a dark roast, made the first cup and then a second. I walked back toward Veronica and handed her one of the mugs.

  “Here you go. Drink this. It might be a late night.”

  She took the mug. “Thank you.” Her eyes avoided mine.

  “So, where do you want to start?” I asked.

  She scooted back on the couch when I sat close to her. I couldn’t blame her. I had confused the hell out of both of us. But, no harm done. I stopped it before it happened. I would honor the promise I made to her and then this would be over. No need to see Veronica Strickland again.

  “I-I need to get my notes.” She placed her coffee on the table and walked to the door where she had left her bag. She walked back through the room, flipping a few pages in the tablet. I waited for her to get comfortable on the couch.

  God, I needed that cold shower. Watching her hair fall against her cheek, all I wanted to do was pull her under me and start over where we stopped. I could yank her off this couch and carry her to my bed right now. Fuck the interview. Fuck my rules. I only wanted to fuck her.

  “How old were you when you sold your first property?” she asked.

  I shook my head. The question jolted me back to reality.

  “I was twenty-two.” I drank the coffee. I needed to kill the buzz her lips had created. She had tasted like the sun. Her skin was like warm light under my fingertips. And her breasts were gorgeous. I had to stop thinking about her body and how velvety perfect her pussy was.

  “And was that one in Dallas?”

  I nodded. “Yes. It was a warehouse that I converted into apartments.” I smiled. It was my first deal, and even though I didn’t walk away with much money, I walked away with enough to buy two more tracts of land. It was the start of everything for me. This was good. Talking about business kept my mind off the sweetness of her thighs.

  “And why do you think you became interested in land acquisition and development?” She hadn’t lifted her eyes off the page.

  I could give her the real answer or the canned speech that the public relations department liked to distribute.

  “The truth?”

  She finally looked at me, and I knew then how much I had fucked up. Her eyes were brimming with it. Hurt. Confusion. Anger. She was mustering together everything she had to conduct this interview. I had stripped her down on my porch, kissed her, held her, made her come hard and then I dropped all of it for a fucking phone call. There was a reason she considered me a prick.

  “Of course the truth. I can’t print lies.” Her words were curt. I deserved it. I was a fucking bastard.

  I slid closer to her and moved back against the cushion. “Look, let’s stop for a second. We need to clear the air. I’m sorry.” I exhaled.

  She straightened her shoulders. “I don’t want to talk about it. I have an interview and then a story to write. It’s getting late. Can you please just answer the questions? This is all-business now. I get it.”

  I couldn’t let it go. My fingers brushed against her leg. “It’s not that I don’t want you. Wanted. I do.”

  “Stop.” She held up a hand. “It never hap—”

  “Let me finish.” I stared hard. “We were seconds from this turning into a mistake. That phone call possibly saved us both from doing something we shouldn’t.”

  Her eyes widened. “Wow. That’s your big speech? That makes it all better?” She threw her pad and pen on the floor. “I will add complete dick at apologizing to the headline.”

  My forehead pinched together. “I said I’m sorry. I took it too far. I know I did. I let things get out of hand.”

  “Well, if the mighty Aiden Thomas is sorry, then we’re all good.” She leaned over to reach for the pen, and I grabbed her arm.

  “What? You don’t believe me?” I accused. “You heard the phone ring. I had a call.”

  “Oh, I believe you thought it was a mistake. I know your type.” Her eyes narrowed.

  “Type? What’s that supposed to mean?” I huffed.

  “You think you can sleep with any girl you want and there’s no consequences to any of your decisions. You’re so gorgeous and sexy, women just line up to jump in your bed and you don’t give a shit about any of them. You’re nothing new, Mr. Thomas.”

  She stood and I could see she was shaking.

  I rose from the couch. “Hold on, sweetheart. I stopped things from going too far. I’m the good guy here.” I made an excellent point.

  “Are you?” She glared at me. “I thought it was a phone call that saved us.”

  “Yes. If we had—if I had—”

  “What? You didn’t think I could take it? Did you worry I would fall madly in love with you? Fucking you would somehow change my life forever? Get over yourself,” she fumed.

  I shook my head. I had lost complete control of this conversation. “No, I never said that. I just know how these things go.” There was a formula to one-night stands.

  Her hands landed on her curvy hips. “Because you have so much experience fucking random women?”

  “Yes—I mean no—that’s not what I’m saying.” I shook my head.

  “I wasn’t trying to be your next girlfriend or move in with you,” she seethed. “I just wanted to fuck. Okay?” Her eyes bore into mine.

  I sat on the couch, throwing my hands over my head. Why in the hell were women so damn confusing?

  “You just wanted to fuck?” I looked at her, trying to stop myself from smiling. I hadn’t expected that from a pretty mouth like hers.

  “Yes. Why is that so hard to believe?” She slumped onto the couch next to me.

  “I don’t know. Because you don’t seem like a one-night stand kind of woman.” I turned to face her. Her cheeks were flushed from arguin
g.

  “What kind of woman do you think I am?” she questioned.

  “The kind who is determined and beautiful.” I moved a flyaway curl from her cheek. “The kind who can understand business and write about it.” I moved in closer. “The kind who is strong and independent enough to move halfway across the country to follow a dream. And is so fucking sexy I had to stop myself from asking you out three times today.”

  Her eyes darted to mine. “What are you talking about? The entire day you avoided me like I was a case of food poisoning.”

  “Ever wonder why?” My hand slid against her throat, tracing the lines of her neck. Her pulse quickened under my fingers. I couldn’t help myself. Her skin was addictive, just like her lips.

  “I thought it was because you hated reporters,” she smarted back.

  “I do,” I growled against her ear as I grazed my teeth against her skin.

  She pushed against my shoulder. “We can’t start this up again. You don’t know what you want.”

  My free arm wrapped around her waist, drawing her against my chest. “It’s not obvious?”

  My cock was rock hard again. I only wanted one thing.

  Her muscles tensed. “Let’s just blame it on the tequila.” She sighed. “I’ll finish the article and we can be done.”

  She was right. The call with Carter had thrown me off balance. I had chosen work. No more back and forth. No more starting and stopping. No more second-guessing. I wanted her. Plain and simple. I had to have this woman and know what it was like to be buried inside her.

  “This is what I know.” I tipped her chin toward my gaze. “I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight if all I can do is think about these lips.”

  “Sorry to hear that. I’m not doing this again.” She untangled herself from my arms. “I don’t like feeling like a conquest or accessory for the night. You left me on your balcony. Naked.”

  “I’m sorry about that. I am. It wasn’t intentional. I’m running a billion-dollar company. Calls late at night tend to be important.” How did I explain? “Look. I didn’t know about your attitude about sleepovers. I think we might be on the same page. More of the unattached types.” I had gotten her back in my hands. I couldn’t stop a second time.