Chapter 8
EIGHT
Efa
In between scrolling for my next Netflix addiction, I’m trying to find out more about Ben Fort. And Fort Inc. I’m also brainstorming ideas for apps and daydreaming about a job with Bennett Fordham as my boss. I’m also overlooking Manhattan while doing all of the above. There are worse ways to spend an evening.
What I like about tech is getting under the skin. Some people like the marketing or the packaging. I like the coding and technology beneath the surface, which is another reason why I think Fort Inc. and I are so well suited. They have never taken products to the public. They know it’s not where their strength lies, and they’re not going to be arrogant enough to think they can do it all. They do the hard stuff—invent the technology, work out the bugs, then they sell it to Apple or Google or whoever can bring it to market. The companies everyone has heard of do the marketing and branding and make everything look pretty, while Bennett gets on and does the important work.
Having met the man behind Fort, it makes complete sense. He doesn’t mess around. He has no need to prove himself. He knows what he’s good at and sticks to it.
If his sharp jaw and tight, hard body weren’t enough, I have to have an intellectual crush on the guy too.
A knock at the door makes me jump. The building has a doorman. No one has ever knocked on that door.
I scramble to my feet and head to the door, wondering if I should open it.
“Efa?” a familiar voice booms out. “I know you’re in there. Open the door.”
I roll my eyes and wrangle with the locks and catches and pull open the door to find Bennett on my doorstep, looking like he just murdered someone—or wants to murder me.
“How did you get past the doorman?”
“You really need to do something about security in this place.”
“Did you bribe him?” I hold the door open for him, even though I don’t have an explanation for what he’s doing here. He brushes past me. I try to cover up the deep breath I take of his earthy scent. I never did discover what it is that makes him smell that way.
“No, I didn’t bribe him,” he replies, and I follow him into the living space. “I just told him I was coming to visit you, Efa Cadogan. Then he didn’t know Efa, so I gave him that ridiculous nickname.”
“Eddie isn’t a ridiculous nickname,” I say. “It’s what everyone in my entire universe calls me.”
He fixes me with a stare. “Not me.”
My skin starts to vibrate. What is it with this man? I think he could make me come just looking at me.
“Well, you’re difficult,” I say. “Want a drink? And then you can tell me what you’re here for.”
“Sure, I’ll have a beer.”
I’m shaking my head before he’s finished his sentence. “I have some questionable red wine and water. That’s it.”
He winces at the options, which doesn’t surprise me. I’m used to wine snobs.
He picks up the bottle on the coffee table in front of the sofa. “Why?” He turns to me.
“I like to think of myself as an egalitarian when it comes to wine.”
He rolls his eyes, but I know he’s semi-impressed by my word choice. It’s who he is.
“I’ll order up a beer,” he says.
“How long are you planning to be here?” I say with a laugh.
“You’re right. We should get down to business.”
“Funny business?” I say, pulsing my eyebrows up.
He pulls out some papers from his jacket pocket. “NDA. I need you to sign.”
I snatch them from him and take a seat on the sofa. “What for? You?” I unfold the documents and scan the first page. Yeah, he doesn’t want me spilling any of the top-secret info I’ve managed to uncover about him, like the fact he smells nice.
“I’ve told you, I won’t tell anyone. How many of these have you given out in your life? I bet the entire population of New York has signed an NDA with you. We all know who you are, but no one’s talking about it.” I laugh at the idea, but Bennett’s face is like stone.
“Everyone at Fort has signed, but no one knows I’m also Bennett Fordham except you. You’re the only one who’s ever guessed.”
It’s as if someone’s taken the air from my lungs. I snatch a breath in. He’s so earnest, like he’s part terrified and part impressed I’ve discovered him.
“You see?” I say. “I’m one of a kind. I’d be perfect at Fort. Perceptive and clever.”
“Sign the document,” he says, taking a seat next to me on the sofa.
“On one condition,” I reply.
“As long as it doesn’t involve an orgasm.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I should refuse to sign without an orgasm. But actually, it’s only a temporary fix. I think if I was going to use sex as the consideration, I’d make it an ongoing obligation. How often would be appropriate, do you think?” I curl my legs underneath me, when what I really want to do is climb into Bennett’s lap.
He narrows his eyes at me in mock outrage. “I can’t see how you’d find it a problem getting sex if that’s what you want. You don’t need anyone contractually obligated.”
He’s right I suppose, but what I learned from a night with Bennett is that not all sex is equal. In fact, sex with Bennett is an entirely different experience to having sex with any of my previous partners. Like taking a quick, perfunctory shower compared to swimming in the Indian Ocean at sunset after a cocktail.
“It’s a matter of quality control,” I say. “I know what you’re capable of.” I nudge his thigh with my sock-covered foot, just wanting that physical connection to him.
I don’t expect him to react, so when he circles my ankle with his fingers and pulls me towards him, I’m once again startled out of a breath.
My legs bridge over his and my bottom is tucked against the side of his thigh. Our faces are inches from each other. There’s just a layer of thin cotton separating me and him. I want to unbutton my top, have him lick between my breasts. Have him consume me like he did just a few nights ago. Other than a job at Fort, it’s all I want right now.
He slides his hands up my thighs. “We’ve been through why this is a bad idea.” His voice has that gravelly edge to it, like his stubble against my skin.
“But,” I say on an exhale, tipping my chin up, as if my neck is craving his mouth just as much as the rest of me. “Have we properly considered all the reasons why it’s a good idea?” My fingers trail against his jaw. “A really good idea.”
He growls and I gasp.
“Efa.”
He pulls away and stands, pushing his hands through his hair. “I can’t think straight when you’re so close.”
A small smile nudges at the edges of my lips. I’m taking a victory from that. He wants me. He’s fighting it, but it’s an ongoing battle.
“Thinking straight is overrated,” I say.
“Sign the NDA,” he says.
I stand up and move toward him. It’s provocative, but I can’t help myself. It seems like a waste for us to be far apart in the same room, when there’s no one here to catch us.
“Why should I sign it? What are you going to do if I talk? Imprison me? Sue me? All this does”—I pick up the papers—“is put a moral obligation into a legal document, but there’s no real remedy if I breach it. Not one that works, because once the cat is out of the bag, there’s no putting it back in.”
He growls again and grabs my face, pressing his lips against mine, his tongue pushing into my mouth like he’s searching for something. My hands slide up his chest and he presses up against me.
All I can feel is his hardness. His chest, his stomach. His cock.
I’m shaking with anticipation of feeling it all and more and everywhere.
He pulls at the buttons of my pajama top, not letting go of my face, holding me in place, like he just can’t get enough.
I know that feeling.
I don’t help him. Won’t help him. I dig my hands into his hair, and all of a sudden, he pulls away.
“Fuck,” he gasps, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Fuck, Efa.”
I can’t think of anything to say.
“Yes, please?” I ask.
“No,” he booms. “I’ve told you. We can’t. Not now. Not when I know you want a job. It’s like I’m taking advantage of you.”
“But you’re not,” I say. “I’m not thinking that if I sleep with you, you’ll hire me. It’s Fort Inc., not Buy Your Discount Electricals Here Inc. You want the best. I just have to convince you that I meet your criteria. Sex has nothing to do with that.”
He scrubs his hands over his face. “I can’t. It doesn’t matter what you say, I can’t let it happen. I would feel like I’ve abused my position.”
Gah. Why does he have to be such a stand-up guy?
“I have to leave,” he says and heads to the door.
I follow him. “Then why did you come?” I ask him.
He stops, one hand on the door handle, and frowns like he thinks I’ve missed something. “To get you to sign the NDA.”
“You could have put it in my letterbox.” I fold my arms. “Handed it to me tomorrow when I change your sheets. You could have slipped it under my door. You had other options. But you didn’t use any of them.”
He pushes his thumb over his temple. “I wanted to make sure you signed it.”
I raise my eyebrows because I haven’t signed it, and he came right on in and took a seat on my sofa. “How’s that working out for you?” I ask.
“Good night, Efa,” he says and leaves.
I’ve not gotten the six orgasms I deserve, but at least I’ve left him frustrated as hell, in every sense of the word.