Chapter 19 #2
“I’ll be the first female CIO my company has ever had.”
“I said why is it so important to you?”
Silence. Then: “I don’t think I’ve ever been asked that question,” she said finally.
He wondered if she’d ever asked it of herself. “You’re devoting an awful lot of your life to it. Makes sense to know why.”
“I told you what drives me: I don’t ever want to be in the position Mum was, stuck at home, playing housemaid to Dad, afraid
to go and get a job, do something for herself.”
“That explains why you work, why you want a career, but not why you want to keep going upward.”
“I . . . I love what I do. I’m aware I’m making sacrifices, but if I get the promotion, I’ll have something to show for it.
The sacrifices will mean something.”
“It will be one hell of an achievement,” he agreed. He wanted to tell her it would also mean more sacrifice, more stress.
Less time to enjoy herself. But whereas in Nantucket he could have said that, now he had to carve out a new relationship with her. “Tell me
about Stuart.”
She groaned. “He’s good at his job. Sharp, confident, bordering on arrogant, but in the finance world, that works. Investors
want to believe the people who handle their money know what they’re doing. He’s better at playing the game than me, knows
how to talk to the right people, get them on his side.”
“From what you said, all that takes is a dick.”
Her soft laughter echoed back at him. “That certainly helps, but he can be charming when he puts his mind to it.”
A flash of something hot and twisty burned through his gut. “Have the pair of you got history?”
There was a heavily pregnant pause. “We’ve never dated.”
His heart faltered. “But?”
“He asked, and I turned him down. It hasn’t helped our working relationship.”
Connor gave a silent fist-pump. “No, but it helps me. Means I can hear you mention his name and not have the urge to punch
a hole through the wall.” At her sharp intake of breath, he cursed. “Sorry, should have kept that to myself.”
“It’s late, Connor.”
He’d screwed this up. Time to go back to where he was more sure-footed. “I wish I were there with you. In your bed. Your head
on my chest, your hair tickling me.”
“You never said it tickled.”
“Because I loved it. Loved everything about having your naked body pressed against mine.” As he remembered, his dick began
to swell. “Are you naked now?”
She let out a strangled laugh. “No.”
He groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re wearing those little black silky shorts? The strappy vest top?”
“Yes.”
Lust scorched through him and he gave his dick a rough pull. “Would you take them off for me?”
She gasped. “Are you . . . touching yourself?”
“Of course. You seriously expect me to picture you in bed and not get turned on? Not need to relieve the ache you’ve created?”
“Me? I’ve not said anything.”
“You don’t have to. I don’t need words or even a photo, only the knowledge that it’s you on the other end of the phone. The
rest—how fucking incredible you feel, how responsive you are, the little noises you make—is embedded in my mind.” He closed
his eyes, gave himself a few more hard pulls, his hips thrusting. When he heard no reply, not even a rustle of bedclothes,
he halted, disappointment rocketing through him. “Wait, are you telling me you’re not touching yourself? Am I the only one
horny as hell right now?”
“No.” Her voice was barely audible.
“Thank fuck.” He exhaled heavily. “Touch yourself, Livvy. Let’s do this together.”
“I’ve never . . .” Her voice trailed off and finally, finally, he heard a rustle followed by a sharp intake of breath. “I
can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“You’ve never had phone sex?”
“No.” She let out a half laugh. “I seem to be having a lot of firsts with you.”
“First skinny-dip,” he rasped, body hot with arousal at the memory. “First sex on the beach.”
He heard one of her sexy little moans. “Yes, and . . . the rocks.”
“Christ, yes, that first time, when you came from me dry-humping you.” He groaned, hand tightening, arousal pumping through
him, balls feeling as if they were about to explode. “I’m embarrassingly close already,” he warned. “You need to catch up,
fast.”
“Keep talking to me.”
She sounded breathless, which turned him on even more. “Keep telling you I’m remembering how tight you felt when I sank into
you? How wet, how perfectly you fit me.” Fuck, this wasn’t helping. “I’m seconds from coming, Livvy. Seconds from spilling
all over my fingers, my stomach. Please tell me you are too.”
“Oh God,” she cried. “Oh . . . oh.”
That was all he needed. With a hoarse shout, he erupted into his hand; the feeling intensified as he listened to her gasps
and the little breathy moans that followed.
“You sound beautiful when you come,” he murmured as his breathing slowly returned to normal. “I only wish I could have seen
your face.” Silence echoed down the phone. Had he blown it? Now that her lust was sated, was she embarrassed at what they’d
done? “Livvy?”
“You’re not going to stop phoning me, are you?”
There was resignation in her voice, but also humor and, if he wasn’t mistaken, a smidgen of hope. It was enough to make his
heart flip-flop. “Too right I’m not. Block me if you don’t want to hear from me. Otherwise, I’ll keep calling you. If all
I can do is hear your voice at night now and again, I’ll settle for that. Night, Livvy.”
“Good night, Connor.”