Chapter 8
HUNTER
Strumming my fingers against my thigh, I do my best to decompress in the brief elevator ride back to my office.
I just came from a meeting with my legal department that made me want to fire every single person in the room and hire a brand-new staff, but that isn’t reasonable.
I know the cause of my irritability. She’s a five-foot-nine spitfire. She has a sassy mouth that I’d love to fill with my cock, and she answers to the name “Heartbreaker.”
When the doors part, I come face-to-face with the source of my frustrations.
Savannah hops backward, placing her hand on her chest. “You scared me.”
Attempting to prevent myself from laughing, I reply, “I scared you?”
“Don’t be sassy,” she scolds.
I step out of the elevator, blocking her way when she tries to dip inside. “Where do you think you’re going?” The ding behind me indicates the doors have shut. Glancing at my watch, I realize that it’s just after five.
Savannah growls in frustration, gesturing to the biometric palm scanner. “Home. Or at least trying to go home.”
Ah. She doesn’t have security access to the elevator. I should remedy that.
Or perhaps not…
“Perfect. Give me just a moment.” I move around her, strolling to my office to gather my things, and I shoot a text off to Sterling.
When I return to the elevator, Savannah stands there with her shoulders raised until they’re just under her ears. “Seriously?”
I go through the security measures to get the elevator going, pretending as if her fit isn’t amusing. The ding sounds again, and I motion for her to enter ahead of me. “Shall we?”
She eyes me warily as she passes. “Sure.”
Neither of us speaks a word for the short elevator ride, and when we reach the first floor, Savannah takes off, crossing the lobby at a light jog.
Internally, I groan, then run after her. She struggles with the revolving door, slowing her down and allowing me to catch up.
Sterling waits at the curb, standing at the rear of the limo. When he sees me, he opens the door, but Savannah darts away down the sidewalk.
I throw my briefcase to Sterling like it’s a football, and I don’t stick around to see if he catches it.
Savannah can run all she wants, but she’s not getting away.
When I found out that she lives in Brooklyn and commutes to her job every day by using the subway, I almost lost my mind. So here I am putting a stop to that part of her routine. Even if it means I look like a crazy person in the process.
Shouldering people out of the way, I catch up, I grasp her hand and pull, bringing her to a stop. Spinning her around, I bend my knees, angling my shoulder in her stomach. My arms wrap around her thighs, and I stand up straight.
“Put me down!” She screeches. Savannah struggles, kicking her feet and pounding her fists on my back, something I’ll feel tomorrow. But this is worth it.
“Calm down. You’re making a scene,” I mock scold her.
I don’t actually care if people are staring. They can take a damn picture for all I care. It’ll be something they can show their friends later.
When I approach Sterling, who has my briefcase in one hand and uses his other to hold the door open, he asks, “Everything okay, sir?”
“Just peachy.” I bend back down, dropping Savannah in the seat. She looks up at me, outraged and adorably rumpled.
“Seriously,” she shouts while slamming her fists on the bench on either side of her.
Pinching my lips together, I hide my smile before opening my mouth again. “Mind scooting over? I need to get in.”
Savannah’s mouth opens and closes, shocked and unsure what to say.
Tired of the cold air, I start to get in the car, causing Savannah to instinctively move over and make room for me.
Sterling sets my briefcase inside the limo on the floor by my feet and shuts the door.
“What are you doing? Do you kidnap all your employees, or am I just that special?”
I don’t respond to her outburst, which only serves to amplify her indignation.
Savannah waves her hands around wildly. “You can’t just grab people off the street.”
Frowning with a shrug, I reply, “I don’t grab people off the street.” When she points to herself, I add, “You’re not people.”
She rolls her eyes. “Then, what am I? An alien?”
I snort at her dramatics. “No, you’re a beautiful woman.”
The way her lips part tells me she wasn’t expecting that answer. “Why am I here?”
“I’m giving you a ride home,” I say it as if it’s obvious, which in my opinion, it is.
She sighs, irritated. “Again, why?”
“You really think I’m going to let you take a taxi? Or worse, the subway? I think the fuck not,” I retort. “Give Sterling your address,” I instruct Savannah.
“Who’s Sterling?” Her nose wrinkles adorably as she looks around.
Tilting my head toward the front of the car, I reply, “My driver.”
Again, Savannah’s jaw drops as she finally takes in her surroundings. I watch as her eyes bounce from the leather seats to the minibar to Sterling and back to the leather.
A horn blares outside the car, and someone shouts at us for remaining parked, making Savannah jump.
I urge her again. “Address.”
She eyes me but relents, rambling off her address. I didn’t actually need it, but she doesn’t need to know that I already know almost everything about her. That’s not a smart way to start a relationship.
Savannah doesn’t need to know how crazy I am…yet.
Sterling merges with the flow of cars and heads for Brooklyn, raising the privacy window into place.
Savannah makes herself comfortable, nestling into the seat and removing her jacket and purse. “I’ve never had an employer insist so strongly to give me a ride home.”
I position my arm along the back of the seat and behind Savannah, leaving a gap between our bodies. “But I’m not just your boss, Savannah. I’m a friend.”
“Friend is a strong word.” Savannah raises her brows, turning to me.
“Way to kick me when I’m down,” I mutter quietly, but not so quietly that she can’t hear me.
“How are you the one that’s down in this situation?”
I frown. “A beautiful woman refused my offer to drive her home.”
“You didn’t give her much of a choice.” She pokes me in my side. I don’t know if it’s supposed to hurt or convey her annoyance because her touch is a little more than a tickle.
“My car is much nicer than public transportation,” I comment.
Savannah shakes her head at me and looks out her window. I don’t like that her focus isn’t on me anymore. I need her every thought to be of me, just like all of mine are of her.
“I highly doubt my refusal to be your charity case did any real damage to your pride. I’m sure there are plenty of other women who would jump at the opportunity. You could just ask Blair and you’d feel all better.”
Her voice ends with a little bite to it, and she still doesn’t look at me.
Is my Heartbreaker jealous?
I’m sure I look like a smug bastard right now, but I don’t care. The woman who has been on my mind from sunup to sundown doesn’t like the thought of me with another.
Of course, I’m smug right now.
I drop my arm and move closer to her, closing the space between us. “Savannah.” She won’t look at me, so I place my hand on her cheek, guiding her to face me. But her eyes are glued to her lap. “Look at me.” I infuse my words with a commanding tone.
Nibbling at her lip, she finally gifts me with her beautiful eyes. “You’re pushy.”
Ignoring her accurate observation, I give her some honesty. “I wouldn’t bring another woman in here.”
“Why not?”
Nodding my head down, I answer. “Because that’s your seat now.”
Her voice becomes timid. “You don’t even know me.”
Oh, but I do. I’m willing to bet every penny I have that I know more than most, if not all, of the people in her life.
Sitting back, I let go of her face and shrug. “I know enough.”
“Really? Like what?” Savannah’s distrust is warranted. I’m practically a stranger. I should be proud of her for keeping her guard up, but I don’t like that it’s with me.
I place my hand on her knee, playing with the fabric of her jeans. “Your clothes. They tell me you’re practical and material things don’t mean much to you.”
She gasps at my touch, causing her words to come out breathy. “Or they just mean that I’m poor.”
“I don’t think so. You strike me as the type of woman who goes for what she wants. If you wanted to wear five-hundred-dollar jeans, you’d wear five-hundred-dollar jeans.”
“What else?” She asks.
“Your hands.” Releasing her leg, I grab one of her hands with both of mine and trace her palm. I feel her pulse increase in her wrist. “You’re not afraid of hard work. You’re not a trust fund baby, and you don’t like people doing things for you. It makes you uncomfortable.”
“Not all people,” she grumbles stubbornly. “Only people I just met.”
“Liar,” I accuse.
She rolls her eyes again. “Anything else?”
“Your face. Minimal makeup. Appearances aren’t important to you. In fact, you’d rather go unnoticed, which is why my attention makes you squirm. If I’m not looking, you can hide. But when I’m around, there’s a spotlight on you.”
“Not true,” she denies adamantly.
Arching a brow, I call her out. “You really need to stop lying to me, Heartbreaker.”
She folds her arms. “I’m not so sure I like this game anymore.”
“Who said this was a game?” I lean in, invading her space, and she gasps. The pulse in her neck quickens. “This is the only time I’ll let you tell me ‘No’, Savannah. Say the word and I’m gone.”
It’s a huge lie. There’s no way I can ever leave her alone. I need to make her just as obsessed as I am. It may take some time, but I’ve never backed down from a challenge.
“I—I’m not saying no,” she whispers, her breath hot on my lips.
I don’t wait for her to change her mind. My mouth meets hers, and she melts into me. One of my hands wraps around the side of her neck possessively, and my other hand goes to her hip. Savannah places her palms on my chest, gripping the lapels of my suit.
The soft touch of her lips causes my length to harden. She moves with me as I lead her in a sensual rhythm. She lets me have complete control, yielding to me completely.
Savannah is everything.
The little sounds she’s making burrow themselves in my chest, filling the empty caverns of my soul.
With my hand on her hip, I guide her into my lap. Her knees land on the seat on either side of my thighs, and both of my hands engulf the luscious globes of her ass.
Savannah mewls into my mouth, and I drink it up greedily.
Her hips move forward timidly, grinding the apex of her thighs against my swelling cock. I moan, allowing the sound to rush out of me. My reaction spurs her on. Savannah draws out her next thrust, wrenching another sound of pleasure from me.
What I wouldn’t give to tear our clothes so I can feel her skin against mine.
I want to trace every curve with my tongue.
I want to glide my hands up her legs, right to her center.
I need Savannah on her hands and knees and her thick curly locks wrapped around my fist as I pound into her heat from behind.
Savannah’s movements become increasingly confident. She throws her head back, her face to the ceiling as her climax approaches.
My hands remain clutching her backside as I watch her lose herself in pleasure.
I’m close to coming myself, but I hold back. I haven’t come in my pants from making out since I was a teen.
The car rolls to a stop, and the little jolt causes Savannah to jump out of my lap and land on the other bench. Her hair is mussed, her lips are swollen, and her cheeks are a rosy pink.
Savannah takes a quick glance out the window, letting her know we’ve arrived at her apartment building, then her hand covers her mouth as she looks back at me. “Oh my god.”
I reach for her hand to pull her back into my lap, but she dodges my touch and gathers her things.
“Where do you think you’re going?” My brows raise in question.
She stumbles over her words in her rush to get away. “You gave me a ride home, and now we’re here. So, I’m going…home.”
“Oh?” My relaxed state contrasts with her frantic disposition. It’s a comical sight.
She pauses, staring down at the floor. I look down with her and realize she’s looking at my briefcase. “Your last name is Reed, right?”
“Yes,” I answer, confused as to why she’s asking a question she knows the answer to. Then I remember which briefcase I’m using today.
I don’t buy things that have my name on them, but this was a gift from Rory last Christmas. If I don’t use it at least once a month, he notices.
“Are you…No…That’s too much of a coincidence,” she mutters.
“Am I what?”
She studies my face for a few moments before she opens her mouth again. “Oh my God. You have the same nose and cheekbones.”
There’s only one person she could be talking about. “Have you met my son, Nathaniel?”
Her brows rise. “Nathaniel?” She chuckles.
“He goes by Nate.” I shake my head. “I take it that you know him?”
“You—uh—you could say that.” Savannah scratches lightly at her cheek. “We met a couple of weeks ago, and we may have dated for a minute.”
My body and mind don’t react to the new information. After taking a moment to process, not even the slightest hint of remorse enters my conscience. “I take it you two have broken up.”
Savannah searches my face. “Yes.”
My posture relaxes. “Then I don’t see the issue here.”
Her voice rises in pitch. “You don’t?”
“Nope,” I reply simply.
“I need to wrap my head around this.” Savannah moves around me, opening the door, but this time I don’t let her avoid me.
“Wait.” I grab her wrist, pulling her back to me. I give her a passionate parting kiss, and she participates insatiably. When I break the kiss, her lips follow mine for a moment. “This isn’t over, Savannah.”
“Okay.” She nods her head in agreement.
“Tell me you believe me,” I demand.
She complies. “I believe you.”
“Good girl,” I growl.
Savannah shivers at my praise. She hesitates as she goes to leave, seemingly reluctant.
And I don’t want her to.
I rein in the innate compulsion that urges me to be around her every hour, every second of the day, and I watch her leave.
I won’t let this be the last time I have a taste of Savannah Foster.
With the press of a button, I roll down the privacy window.
“Where to, Mr. Reed?” Sterling questions.
“We’re going to sit here for a bit,” I tell him. Then I add to myself, “I’m enjoying the view.”