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  Jae runs through the presentation flawlessly, covering each of the topics we’ve discussed in our research in a manner that is both professional and entertaining. Nervous to make eye contact with anyone—especially the man who left me unsettled with one handshake—I keep my focus on either the monitor or the table. Both Madden and Emerson make comments throughout the proposal, all of which are positive and encouraging, and when Jae wraps it up, they both clap in appreciation.

  “Well done, well done,” he exclaims approvingly. “I’ll have to give it to you; you may have convinced me this project can be profitable yet. I’ve spent the last week running numbers on it, and to be quite honest, I didn’t think there was a shot in hell for this to work. Your opinion, Em?”

  “I think you’re right,” the faceless female to his right responds. “Maybe Easton did know what he was doing with this one.”

  “What do you think, Blake? Do you think my brother knew what he was doing when he bought this company?”

  At the sound of my name, my eyes shoot up from where they’ve been fixated on the table, to where the two of them are seated. I’m not sure if the smirk on his face suggests he thinks he’s caught me unaware, or if he simply senses my wish to not participate in the conversation. Thankfully, I’ve been paying attention to the discussion, so I know exactly what he’s just asked me, but I have no idea of the correct way to answer the question. If I answer truthfully, I’ll be suggesting the brother is a dumbass, but if I lie, I may get caught with another question.

  “I think your brother knew what he was doing when he hired JDT Graphics to come up with the solutions for fixing this company,” I answer softly, my gaze once again locking with his.

  Throwing his head back with a hearty laugh, I take a few moments to soak him in. Earlier, I hadn’t made it past the piercing stare and intense handshake to notice much else. His hair is a dirty blonde that’s cut short in the back, but a little longer and tousled on top, and his strong jawbone is cleanly shaven. Only visible from the waist up, he’s wearing a light gray business shirt underneath a charcoal sports coat; however, his broad chest and shoulders are undeniable despite the layers of clothing on top.

  Bringing his stare back to mine, his expression grows serious and his eyes penetrate me, traveling down to my chest and back up to my face. “I agree wholeheartedly with that assessment,” he says in a tone that makes me think he’s no longer talking about the video game company. A surge of heat spreads throughout my body, causing my cheeks to undoubtedly blush and a warmth to settle between my thighs.

  “I was the one who actually suggested we go with JDT,” Emerson pipes up, interrupting the moment—a moment that’s most likely being experienced only by me, and hopefully not noticed by anyone else in the room.

  I turn my attention to her and smile graciously. “Thank you for the opportunity to show you what we can do.”

  In return, I receive a half-snarl, half-smile from the face of a truly beautiful woman, framed with picture-perfect strawberry-blonde ringlets. Immediately, I sense she’s not a fan of mine, despite the fact I’ve said two sentences the entire time I’ve been here.

  Mr. Thompson and Jae also offer their gratitude, which Madden quickly acknowledges and states isn’t necessary. The meeting wraps up with the four of them deciding on the next step in the process and a formal acceptance of our proposal without Easton Decker ever appearing. I stay silent, afraid I’ve already said the wrong things.

  All five of us stand to leave the room, the four of them making small talk as we mosey towards the door I can’t get out of soon enough. Emerson leads the way out, followed by Mr. Thompson, Jae, and myself, while Madden brings up the rear. His closeness sends my senses into high alert as I pray he doesn’t speak to me directly again. Just before I step out into freedom, he grabs my hand and pulls me back into the conference room.

  “We’ll be right out,” he informs the other three, who all look back at us curiously before the door closes, separating us from them.

  Startled by the entire chain of events, I’m frozen in place, staring at him with bewilderment.

  “Have dinner with me tonight, Blake,” he demands—not asks—as he turns to face me.

  “Excuse me?” I choke out. I’m not sure I’ve heard him correctly.

  “Have dinner with me tonight,” he repeats, stepping closer to me while still holding my hand in his. He strokes his thumb over my ring finger. “You obviously aren’t married, so tell your boyfriend you have a business dinner. I can pick you up at your office when you get off.”

  Swallowing hard, I shake my head and pull my hand free. “No, I’m sorry, sir. I can’t.”

  “Of course you can, and you will. I’ll let Mr. Thompson know I want to discuss the project with you in more detail. I heard your coworker speak about it plenty today, but I want to hear your thoughts.” He closes what’s left of the gap between us; our chests are nearly touching, and every nerve-ending in my body is begging for contact, despite my brain’s silent plea for him to retreat. Placing his hand under my chin, he lifts my head so I’m staring directly into his eyes. “And it’s Madden. There will be a time and a place you can call me Sir, but we aren’t there…yet.”

  “I’ll pick you up at six. Wear exactly what you have on,” he pauses to tenderly swipe his thumb over the tattered part of my lip, his stare glued to my mouth, “and we’ll discuss this.”

  Then he walks out the door, leaving the room spinning wildly around me as I struggle to find my breath.

  MR. THOMPSON, JAE, AND I walk to his car in silence. I’ve no idea what they’re thinking, but my thoughts are twisting and twirling so rapidly in my mind I’m not sure what in the world just happened. As soon as we are in the privacy of his vehicle, they both turn around from the front seat and look at me inquisitively, waiting for me to say something. I stare back at them blankly, unsure of what exactly to tell them.

  “Well? What did he say?” Jae finally asks. “You can’t just leave us hanging.”

  “Um, well, he said that he wanted to hear more of my thoughts about the project,” I answer, partially telling the truth.

  Mr. Thompson smiles brightly and turns around to start the engine. “Oh, well that’s terrific,” he beams. “I think they were extremely impressed with you two.”

  “Mhmm, I think they were too,” Jae agrees. Her almond-shaped eyes are still fixed on me; her look tells me she knows there’s more to the story than I’m admitting, but thankfully, she doesn’t ask anything else.

  The remainder of the drive back to our office, the two of them discuss how to implement the next phase of development, while I slump against the backseat wondering how in the hell I’m going to get out of this dinner. War breaks out within me as the reasonable and rational part of my brain quarrels with the sensual and carnal side—a portion I thought was all but dead. However, after one simple look, a brush of the hand, and a few spoken words by Madden Decker, it’s apparently alive and well, perhaps just a little dusty.

  By the time we arrive in Burbank, I decide I don’t have much choice other than to go tonight, especially if I want JDT Graphics to stay on as a consultant for Decker Enterprises, but I will view it strictly as a business dinner, and not allow my recently-wakened sexual imagination to run away with me. Perhaps it’s because I’ve been away from the male population for so long I simply don’t know how to interpret their comments and body language. I’m sure his suggestive comments were only playful teasing, a way in which he talks to many females.

  During the last year, I’ve undergone massive amounts of psychiatric testing and counseling, thus learning more about myself than most other twenty-two year olds ever want to know. I accept that the situation I found myself in with Ish wasn’t my fault, nor were the brutal acts he took part in. Blinded by youthful naïveté and the desire to be loved, I got swept away by someone who treated me like a princess—a name I now detest—and didn’t realize who or what I was getting involved with until it was too late. Despite knowing his f
ather is most likely searching for me, I’m attempting to start over fresh, and although I understand the vast majority of people aren’t anything like him or his family, it’s only natural to be cautiously skeptical. More than anyone, I know how different people can be behind closed doors.

  As soon as we are alone in our office, Jae spins around on her heel and orders, “Spill it now, sister. What really happened?”

  “I told you,” I reply, expressionless. “He told me he wanted to hear more about my thoughts and ideas, since I didn’t talk much during the presentation.”

  “When?”

  “When what?” I ask.

  “When does he want you to share these thoughts with him?” Her hands are now on her hips, and she’s giving me a don’t-you-dare-lie-to-me glare.

  “Tonight,” I whisper.

  “Holy shit, I knew it!” she cries out. “He couldn’t pay attention to anything but you the entire time.”

  “Shh!” I try to quiet her. “What are you talking about?”

  “Tell me you noticed it, Blake. I mean, come on. The guy was all but fucking you with his eyes across the table.”

  “No, I tried not to look at him—or anyone, for that matter. I was really nervous and didn’t want to mess anything up,” I explain.

  A wide grin spreads across her cheeks, and she shakes her head in disbelief. “You are something else, woman. First, Greg, and now, Madden—you really don’t pick up on it?”

  Walking over to the sitting area, I collapse onto the sofa, forgetting to be lady-like. “Jae, I know you don’t understand, but I’ve been out of the dating world for a really long time. It’s hard for me to differentiate between being nice, playing around, and seriously flirting.”

  She joins me on the soft, brown leather surface, rubbing my arm soothingly. “You’re right. I don’t understand, because you won’t tell me, but I know you have your reasons and I respect that. But I can assure you—that hunk of a man today was most definitely flirting. Do you really think he wants to talk about business over dinner? Why didn’t he ask you about your opinion during the meeting?”

  “I don’t know,” I admit, shrugging my shoulders. “The last thing I need in my life is anything to do with a guy, unless it’s in a professional manner.”

  Her comforting rub turns into a stinging slap across my bicep. “Nonsense! A good fucking is exactly what you need,” she scolds me, “and unless you’re into women, a guy will be necessary. And let me just say—there’s no one much better out there than Madden Decker. He’s sexy as hell and loaded. Let him wine and dine you, and then allow that fine ass body to help you forget about all the shit you’re running from, even if it is just for a few hours.”

  “I can’t, Jae. I’m not wired that way. And what if things go all wrong? What about our contract with them?”

  “I’m not talking about marrying the guy, Blake. It’s only sex. Plus, Decker Enterprises needs our firm much more than we need theirs. Nothing will happen to affect the business relationship; just don’t let Mr. Thompson know it’s anything more than business.”

  Sighing loudly, I slide farther down into the couch. “It appears I really don’t have much choice but to go to dinner, but I’m not sleeping with him. I’m so not ready for that.”

  “How long has it been since you had sex?” she asks deadpan.

  My mouth gapes open at the brazenness of her question. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, I’m serious. How long has it been?”

  “About a year-and-a-half,” I admit, shuddering with disgust just thinking about it.

  Squeezing my cheeks in her hands, she forces me to make eye contact with her, much like my mom used to do the few times I got in trouble as a kid. “Listen to me, Blake. Fuck him tonight. He won’t say no, and you better not either.”

  She releases my face from her grasp and smiles, then stands up and marches over to our workstation. “Now, let’s get back to work.”

  THE AFTERNOON PASSES AT a snail’s pace. I can’t stop staring at the clock, waiting for the end of the workday to arrive. It’s been a long fucking time since I’ve experienced this sensation surging through me—an overwhelming desire to consume someone, body and soul.

  The moment I laid eyes on Blake Martin sitting in my conference room, my hunger for her was triggered, and as I continued to observe her throughout the meeting¸ it quickly escalated into a craving I could no longer deny myself. The way she followed her coworkers over to shake my hand, her eyes fixated on the floor. The way she stared at the table throughout the entire presentation, never making eye contact with anyone. The way she remained silent until she was asked a direct question, and even then—despite her clever remark—her voice was subdued and acquiescent. Breathtakingly beautiful and splendidly submissive in every fucking thing she did, she unknowingly awakened the beast inside me that has been sleeping for years.

  Finally, five o’clock rolls around, and I can’t get out the door fast enough. Earlier this afternoon, Caroline contacted Mr. Thompson to confirm Blake would be expecting me to pick her up for a business dinner at six. I wasn’t taking any chances with her not showing. The helpful boss even provided my secretary with Blake’s cell phone number, in case I needed it. This was proving easier than I thought, but that didn’t matter to me. Unlike most men, it’s not about the hunt for me; I outgrew that immature notion in college. For me, it’s about the feast, and fuck if I can’t wait to devour that woman.

  On the traffic-laden drive to Burbank, my cell phone rings, lighting up the dashboard inside my black S63. Pressing a button on the left side of the steering wheel, the call connects, and I hope to hear good news.

  “Talk to me, Caroline,” I answer. Rarely do I actually say hello to anyone.

  “Reservations are set at Arnie Morton’s for six-thirty, and they guaranteed me you’d have a table with privacy,” she reports. “Also, Easton called looking for you. I told him you could be reached on your cell.”

  “Perfect. Thank you, as always,” I reply gratefully, “and I’m sure he’ll wait to call tomorrow to give me time to cool down. He thinks I’m pissed because he was two hours late for his own damn meeting today.”

  Without Caroline and Sarah, I’d be completely lost in the day-to-day management of my life. My friends and brother like to give me shit about having older women as my housekeeper and secretary, but there’s a reason I keep women old enough to be my mother in these vital positions—so they can act like my mother. Only trouble can come out of getting sexually involved with the women who clean up your messes, both at home and the office.

  “My pleasure, Madden. Is there anything else I can do before I leave for the day?”

  “Nope, just wish me luck tonight,” I tease, knowing damn well attracting women isn’t a problem for me. Typically, evading their unwanted advances is the issue.

  “No luck is needed. I’m sure the young lady will quickly realize what a catch you are.”

  “You deserve a raise, Caroline. Have a good evening.”

  “Goodnight,” she says before hanging up.

  Chuckling to myself over her comment about me being a ‘catch’, I know she hopes I’ll find someone to settle down with soon. Caroline’s been with me for nearly a decade, so she’s well aware of my dating tendencies, or lack thereof. It’s not that I’m opposed to monogamous, loving relationships; I’m just not a fan of getting my heart broken. One time was enough for me. I know I need to tread lightly with this new one though. I can’t allow this yearning for her to engulf me. I can offer everything but my heart.

  Nearly an hour after leaving my office, I pull up in front of hers. Grabbing my phone, I type out a text to the number Caroline had written on a piece of paper for me.

  I’m waiting downstairs. Black Mercedes.

  She doesn’t send a message back, but a few minutes later, I see her blonde hair and long, lean legs pushing through the glass revolving door. Throughout the afternoon, I’d wondered several times if I’d over-exaggerated her beauty in my
head—maybe a week without sex has started fucking with my mind or something—but the moment she steps out into the early evening sunlight and I get a good look at her, my hands itch with desire to feel her skin again, and my dick gets rock-hard thinking of the various wicked things I want to do to that body. Nothing about my memory of her had been overstated; she is fucking gorgeous.

  As she hesitantly approaches, I get out of the car, flash her one of my most charming smiles, and walk around to the passenger side. “Good evening, Blake,” I greet her, enjoying the way the sound of her name rolls off of my tongue. “Seeing you twice in one day—I didn’t know I’d be so lucky when I woke up this morning. Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me.”

  “Good evening, Mr. Decker,” she replies politely.

  Wanting terribly to touch her once she’s within arm’s reach, I refrain for now, and open the car door for her instead. She looks up at me nervously before sliding onto the tan leather seat and offering a small smile. At first, my eyes lock on hers—an exquisite shade of blue—but when the corners of her mouth curl up, my focus is brought down to her full lips and that fucking bruise I noticed earlier. My chest tightens as I run through all of the possible ways that would happen, and I’ve got a bad feeling I don’t want to know.

  I slam the door harder than I mean to once she’s securely inside, and then make my way back to the driver’s side. Once I’m comfortably settled with my seatbelt on, I turn to study her. She’s obviously tense as she fidgets with the purse-strap and visibly clenches her jaw, her focus glued to her lap, even though I know she feels my gaze on her.

  “Are you in the mood for a good steak?” I ask, praying she doesn’t say she’s a vegetarian, vegan, or some other crazy shit.

  She nods agreeably. “That sounds good.”

  “Perfect,” I answer as I pull out onto the street in front of her office. “Is there any kind of food you don’t like, for future reference?”