Chapter Twenty
A ubrey stood before Serge with her hands on her hips, her breasts incredibly high, and madder than he'd ever seen her. He leaned back in his office chair and put his feet up on the desk. He'd ignored her for five minutes when she'd barged into his office building and shut the door behind her.
He expected her to come. He also expected her anger.
She had no idea how irresistible she appeared to him when she put on her serious face, stuck her nose in the air, and tried to put him in his place.
"I mean it, Serge. Call your thug off." She glared. "I don't need a bodyguard."
"I need to make sure you don't walk into the homeless camp again playing Mother Teresa to every sad story you hear."
She gasped. "Sad story? It was a child. A sick child."
"Come here," he said.
"No." She looked away from him. "I'm perfectly safe while at work. All my employees are men who can watch out for me and each other. There's no reason to have someone watching the building. What if he scares off someone who needs shelter?"
"He won't because he lives on the street." He clasped his hands behind his head and stretched back farther in the chair. "Get over here."
"You infuriate me," she mumbled, stomping around to the other side of his desk.
"Sit on the desk. I haven't seen you all day." He moved his feet to the side.
She wore a long skirt with a half shirt. A casual look worn with sneakers and her hair up in a bun.
Aubrey put her hands on his desk and jumped up, landing with a soft plop. "Please, let me do my job without making me feel like a prisoner."
"Hitch your skirt up and widen your knees," he said.
Her gaze went to the corner of the room, but she spread her legs. He dropped his feet to the floor and swiveled his chair until she was in reach. "Antonio is taking care of what is mine. You are mine."
He slid his hand along the inside of her thigh. With no hesitation, he shoved her panties to the side, and his finger entered her hard. She gasped, and her hands went back to brace herself on the desk.
"Now, you can either stay with me every day or you can deal with Antonio hanging around." Without taking his finger out of her, his thumb found her clit. "Antonio has instructions only to follow you if you leave the building and call me. He's not going to interrupt your work."
"I don't think it's necessary to—oh, God." She briefly closed her eyes as his middle finger joined the first inside her.
Damn she was tight. And wet. And fucking sexy.
"I do think. You're important to me, and I won't put your life at risk." He wanted to fuck her on the desk, but with a meeting in ten minutes, enjoying Aubrey would have to wait. "Remember what I told you. No one is allowed to touch you but me."
She panted, lost in the pleasure he brought her. He rolled his chair forward and leaned between her legs. He pushed against her thighs with his arms and eased his fingers out of her. She moaned a protest that was quickly replaced with an oh-God-yes when his lips sealed around her clit.
The enlarged bud peeked out of the hood, and he swiped his tongue over her. Her womanly scent sent his blood surging through him, leaving him lightheaded. He could spend all day between her legs and never tire or become accustomed to the heady high she gave him.
Her legs trembled against his head. He hooked his arm around her hips, holding her in place. His attention was directed to the very part of her that'd bring her release faster than she could control. He stroked, caressed, nibbled. Finally, she stiffened, her thighs clamping down on him. He exhaled a sigh, lapping up the added wetness between her legs.
When her tremors slowed, he eased away and rolled his chair back. He stood and entered the attached bathroom, washed, and returned to the office with a wet paper towel.
Aubrey stood next to the desk, her dress back in place. Color dotted her cheeks, and her gaze trailed him under eyelids that went half-mast. He approached and kissed her, wishing they were home, and he could share how addicting her flavor was to him. But he had a meeting and his cock, which demanded attention, needed a distraction.
"Are we straight? You won't try to get past Antonio?" He adjusted the crotch of his pants.
"Fine," she whispered, quickly wiping herself before throwing away the used paper in the wastebasket. "I don't like it, but I'll deal with it because you have a nice way of changing my mind." She kissed him. "Very nice."
He chuckled. "I need to get to a meeting across the street. I'll walk you out."
"Okay." She glanced down, and a soft breath escaped her lips at the state of his arousal. "Can I...?"
"No." He put his hand on her lower back and led her to the door. "Tonight, you can take care of me."
She waited until they were in the elevator. "I'm going to be late."
He frowned, wondering why she'd say such a thing, and noticed the way her eyes danced. "Then you'll be in trouble."
She leaned into him. Her hand went to his stomach, and her mumbled okay had him trying not to smile. She wanted to disobey.
The elevator door opened, and he slid his hand down and grabbed her fingers into his palm. For the first time, she'd shown herself to him without any urging on his part. Her admittance came freely, and that pleased him.
On the sidewalk, he spotted Antonio but directed his attention to Aubrey. "Are you going straight home?"
"Yes, and then I'm going to your house." She curled into the front of him and lifted her face. "Would it be horrible if I kissed you out here where everyone can see us?"
"Do you think I'd beat you if you tried?" he asked.
"I could hope." She pursed her lips. "But I don't think you would."
"Then you don't know me very well." He wound his arms around her and slapped her ass with his hand. "Don't tempt me, Bree."
She laughed. He shook his head in amusement, enjoying the carefree emotions she showed. He wanted to capture her spirit and keep it with him.
He was the polar opposite of her. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed because something or someone pleased him, or a moment struck him as humorous. Yet, over the last six weeks or so, he'd felt lighter. That was the only way to explain the way his chest felt with Aubrey in his life.
He'd marked the improvement in his life by physically releasing the darkness. Aubrey gave him his outlet. But for how long would he be content with what they shared together before he needed more?
A few spanks, a couple of slaps, and taking her as roughly as his body demanded catered to his needs now. What happened when he grew immune and wanted to unleash? He could end up hurting her.
"Get going." He kissed her. "Antonio will follow you."
As part of his payment when he hired Antonio, he'd bought an older vehicle and given it to him. He'd need something to follow Aubrey as she went from her place to his and the shelter. One day, he hoped to convince her to move in with him permanently. But he didn't trust himself enough yet.
"See you later." She walked backward until he nodded, then twirled away with a smile, giving him a jaunty wave over her shoulder.
He glanced at his watch. Shit.
Five minutes late for his meeting, he checked the street and took an opening in the traffic. Jaywalking, he hurried toward the Concord Building. Wishing he could go home with Aubrey and skip the meeting, he pushed through the doors, rode the elevator to the fifth floor, nodded at the receptionist, and walked into the conference room ready to throw down business and get the hell out of there.
"Afternoon, gentlemen." He stood at the head of the table.
He once felt like an impostor doing business with men twice his age. He was fresh off the street and had earned his money ripping cars off until he had enough to invest. That investment paid off, and his money grew.
Suzanne already supplied the material needed for the meeting, and he knew every detail without looking at his notes. He directed them to the first page. Business came easily to him.
Whether on the street, jacking cars, or sitting at the table discussing a twelve-billion-dollar expansion to the Winston Tower and bringing in over twenty new office buildings, the subject matter was a game. An entertaining way to make money and come out ahead, and he enjoyed the challenge.
"Do you have a deadline in mind?" John Bieker, attorney at law, addressed him.
He loved this part. "I'm willing to give you five minutes. Walk away from the table, and I have no problem with providing the funds myself. I'm opening this venture up for partnerships right now. You know the benefits, and it would be foolish to turn the opportunity down. Or, you can walk away, knowing you just threw away at least a ten-million-dollar profit in the first year. Your choice, gentlemen. Are you going to play?"
Terry Longtan and Bruce Carlson stood. He ignored them and looked at the others.
He was in control. Nobody owned him. They should cater to his needs.
He took his skill at wearing a poker face and not giving a shit. Because he was different from every single man at the meeting, he had power over them. His emotions never entered into the equation. These men were beneath him. Raised with a hand in their daddy's bank account, the others in the room knew nothing about fighting for survival. They'd die on the streets.
He played them for entertainment purposes only. He could take or leave the game. Money meant nothing. If he lost it all tomorrow, he'd be fine sleeping under a tarp and scrounging food out of the dumpsters.
"All right. Sign the paperwork, and fax it to my office by—he peered at his watch—five thirty-five. Suzanne will get the notarized papers back to you by courier at six o'clock on the dot." He pivoted and walked out the door before anyone could utter a word or question him.
The high he usually felt after a big proposal was lacking. He rode the elevator down to the lobby. Instead of an adrenaline rush, he wanted to go home to Aubrey.
With her, he'd work toward achieving the fulfillment he craved. He loosened his tie as he walked through the automatic doors to the sidewalk.
Most days, he surprised himself at how attached he had grown to Aubrey. Adding her to his life had settled him in ways he hadn't expected.
He'd never done anything for anyone before, except for Alain, and he wondered over the significance of his and Aubrey's relationship. Was it love?
He had no fucking clue.
All he understood was that when it came to Aubrey, he had a desire to make her happy.