Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
DEENA
In the aftermath, the room was too quiet.
Every breath, every heartbeat, every rustle of fabric sounded thunderous in the pulsing emptiness.
The sounds of the party in the next room seemed closer, and I wondered if everyone had heard.
My body twitched and flushed in waves, even as Cal helped me back to my feet.
My thighs were sticky. My dress was a crumpled mess.
I blinked, coming back to myself. Half of me was utterly horrified. The other half wanted to do it again.
I’d never had an orgasm like that in my entire life. Never felt like my body was not my own, like every bond I’d forged to keep myself together was broken and remade.
Cal’s belt was still unbuckled, but his pants were fastened. He moved closer to me while I reeled, his fingers touching my cheek so I’d look up at him. I gulped. We smelled like sex.
Seconds stretched as he watched me, his eyes back to their remarkable pale blue, and I began to worry that this had been a mistake.
Then he spoke. “You are perfect, Deena,” he rumbled a moment before pressing a soft kiss to my lips. Lips that were still brushing mine when he asked, “You hear me?”
The praise warmed my chest, sending tingles through my extremities. I wanted more. Desperately, pathetically wanted him to tell me that again and again. It felt like everything I knew about myself had been pulverized in this room, and I scrabbled to pull myself back together again.
I needed walls. I needed to feel like my body was my own, like my mind was mine once more.
I wanted more from life than to be a man’s accessory.
But he was here and he was gorgeous, and he was telling me all the things I never knew I needed to hear.
Even as panic began to take root, a substantial part of me wanted to strip my dress off and beg him to take me again.
Beg him to make me feel like I was flying, like every weight that kept my feet on the ground had been stripped away.
The thing was, though…I liked having my feet firmly planted on the ground. Didn’t I?
This could not happen again. But how to put distance between us when all I wanted was to feel his hands on my skin?
In my pleasure-addled mind, I clung to the one thing that had never failed me. My ambition. My brain. My business. I leaned away from Cal and said, “I’ve reconsidered your offer. I’ll work for you.”
The effect of my words was immediate. He took a step back, his eyes shuttering. “I see. What caused the change of heart?”
“Post-orgasm clarity,” I quipped.
He huffed, moving to fasten his belt. I watched the movement of his knuckles, his long fingers, his broad palms. He had beautiful hands.
I wanted him so badly I was sick with it. Tearing my eyes away, I nodded sharply. Convincing myself this was the right move.
“And how much will it cost me to hire you?” Cal asked, and it didn’t exactly sound like he was talking about money.
“You said you needed six months from me,” I continued. “I think I can make that work. Of course, if we work together, this can never happen again.” I flicked my fingers between us.
His jaw tightened. “I see,” he repeated. He watched me for a beat—long enough that I had to fight the urge to squirm—and said, “How much?”
He’d told me to name my price. The true price was never, ever giving myself to him again.
If I could keep him at a distance, then I wouldn’t have to face how earth-shattering it had been to surrender to him.
I could rebuild myself to the woman I knew I was.
The woman who’d left her hometown and created a life for herself based on her own values, and not the ones of the family who wanted to keep her small.
That was who I wanted to be. That was who I would be.
As we watched each other, I wondered if I could make Cal go away altogether. If I demanded a high enough salary, he’d balk. He’d gotten what he wanted in this room, and now I needed to make him lose interest.
I plucked a number out of the air, the biggest number I could force past my lips.
“Three hundred grand.” That would pay off my student loans, give me a small emergency fund, and allow me to actually put some money away for retirement.
I might even be able to start a small down payment for my own house.
I’d be financially secure for the first time in my adult life.
Cal’s eyes dropped to his cuffs, which he adjusted with sharp movements. “Done.”
Damn it. I’d gone too low. My heart fluttered, and I didn’t know why. Was it the thrill of knowing I’d be making enough money to finally have stability and a nest egg?
Or was it the thrill of knowing I’d be working with Callum Frost for the next six months?
I narrowed my eyes, wanting to make one final effort to push him away. “Half paid up front, nonrefundable. Even if I quit at the end of my first day.”
His eyes snapped up to meet mine. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Sounds like Mr. ‘name any condition you want written into the contract’ was full of shit, after all. What a surprise.”
His gaze had lost all its warmth, and I knew I was dealing with the director of a successful venture capital firm now.
Not the man who thought I was beautiful and perfect, who’d kissed me and called me love.
He squared his shoulders and drilled his gaze into mine.
“You want me to hand over a hundred and fifty grand when I might get nothing out of it.”
“You’ll get to know you convinced me to do something that every fiber of my being is telling me is a bad idea.
And you’d get at least one day. That’s gotta be worth a hundred and fifty, no?
” I smiled. There was a wall between us now, and that was good.
It made me feel like I was dying inside, but it was good.
He blinked slowly, arched a brow, and tilted his head to concede the point. Then he smiled, sharklike and dangerous. “Can you start Monday?”
“I can start when my lawyer’s reviewed the contract and I’m happy you’re not going to screw me over.” I didn’t have a lawyer, but that was neither here nor there.
His smile widened. “I like you, Deena.”
He’d said all manner of things to me, over the phone and in this room. He’d ripped me apart and put me back together. But that one sentence… that was the one that felt truly dangerous. Something was shifting between us, and I had the distinct impression I’d played my cards all wrong.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “The feeling is most definitely not mutual.”
He laughed again, the sound of it making a shiver tremble through my body. Then he extended a hand toward me to shake on it. I looked at it for a second, certain that I was making the biggest mistake of my life.
I’d failed in pushing him away, and I had a feeling the boundaries I was trying to erect between us were as solid as cobwebs to him. But I had to do something. I couldn’t leave this room feeling like I was falling for him, for God’s sake.
Besides, with a hundred and fifty thousand dollars, I could pay off my loans. I wouldn’t have much more than that, but I’d be able to afford a new laptop. All I had to give him was one single day.
I could do one day. Couldn’t I?
Inhaling sharply, I slid my palm against his.
Despite everything, the touch was electric.
I felt it like lightning in the veins of my arm, forking through my body as warmth settled between my thighs.
His eyes were the color of winter, but they were alive with triumph.
That, combined with the feel of his broad, hot palm against mine—and the stickiness of our mutual pleasure still coating my thighs—made me feel like I’d just agreed to snuggle up with a very hungry lion.
“Pleasure doing business with you, Deena.”
“My lawyer will be in touch,” I replied, pulling my hand away.
“And until then?” he asked.
I frowned at him, not understanding.
Cal tipped his head toward the door. “How do you propose we handle the rest of this evening?”
A breath whistled out of me. Somehow, I’d forgotten where I was. I bit my lip and blinked at the door, remembering everything—and everyone—who waited beyond it. “Oh, crap,” I muttered.
In my peripheral vision, I caught the curve of Callum’s smile.