Chapter 1
Chapter One
R eed Donovan stared at the flat-screen TV in the corner of the bar, and though his eyes were seeing the baseball game, his mind wasn’t processing a single aspect of it. He leaned back in his chair and tried to shake off the lingering traces of jetlag. Two days earlier, he’d flown back to the States after nine months in London. He only had tonight left to recover from the trip before he returned back to work bright and early the next morning.
He picked up the drink in front of him and took a long, deep swig. His throat was parched and his mouth dry. Clearly the stress of his day job was affecting his mind, messing with his head. He’d gone to London in the early fall to clean up the mess the former manager had left in his company’s branch office.
“Have to admit I didn’t think you had it in you to be quiet for so long.”
Reed looked up and found his cousin, the owner of the bar, looking down at him. He gestured to the chair across from him and watched Carter sit.
Reed lifted his glass. “Trying to drink away some of my damn tiredness. Not looking forward to going back to work tomorrow.”
“Nine months is a damn long time to uproot from your home, Reed. And I know you hate playing the admin role, know you’ve been gritting your teeth every minute of these last few months, wishing you were back doing what you love.”
“Uncle Brian needed my help getting the London branch back under control. The last manager only managed to run the damn thing into the ground. It was my job to clean house, to put the pieces back together.”
Carter leaned back in the chair, put his hands behind his head and studied his face. “So what’s stuck up your ass? You’re home now. Figured you’d be happy and celebrating that little fact.”
Reed rubbed his eyes wearily. His cousin was right, he should be doing fucking flips around the bar. Instead, he felt tired, irritable. “You want me to make a bulleted list for you?”
Carter grinned. “Is this gonna be a long presentation, Mr. Exec?”
Reed leaned forward, not bothering to acknowledge his cousin’s joke. “Number one, I’m pissed as shit about Brian sending me to London. I’ve worked my ass off for that man for years and I don’t appreciate being used as a lackey to do his goddamn dirty work. I’m going into his office tomorrow and let him know it’s not something I ever intend to do again.”
Carter winced. “Fuck, man. That’s not gonna be a fun conversation.”
“You’re right. It’s not. Number two, while I was off wasting my MBA skills playing office manager, he let my marketing partner lose two prospective clients to The Wilkerson Team. I could have landed those accounts if Brian would have let me do my job.”
“Sounds like your partner sucks.”
“You’re missing the point, Carter. If I’d been there, those companies would be The Donovan Group’s clients.”
Carter waved a waitress over and ordered a whiskey, straight up, before gesturing for Reed to continue. “Anything else you need to get off your chest?”
Reed leaned back. “Frankie Carlyle.”
“Who’s that?”
“The bastard who stole my deals. Some hotshot upstart from The Wilkerson Team.”
“Ah, so you’ve finally got some competition, eh?”
Reed narrowed his eyes. “Hardly.”
“Damn, you’re a sore loser. Always have been.”
Reed wanted to argue, but figured it was pointless. Carter knew him too well. “Lucky for me, I never lose.”
Carter burst out with loud laughter.
Reed scowled. “I’m simply going to tell Brian I’m not cleaning up any more messes. I’m a marketing guy and if he’d let me do that job instead of shipping me off to goddamn London for nearly a year, Frankie Carlyle wouldn’t have two jobs that should have been mine.”
Carter sat up, leaning across the table to slap him on the shoulder in a supportive way. “You and I both know anger doesn’t win an argument with Brian. He had his reasons for sending you away. Whether or not he cares to enlighten you on the whys of it is another matter entirely.”
Reed nodded, but didn’t elaborate on his real concerns regarding Frankie Carlyle. He’d seen print copies of the presentations that landed the deals. They were good. Very good. And there was a small part of Reed that wondered if he could have landed the deals if he’d been around.
He attempted to stretch a tight kink out of his neck. He was stressed out and tired. There were three more big bids looming in The Donovan Group’s immediate future and Reed intended to land every single one of them. Carlyle was about to meet his match.
“Earth to Reed.”
He glanced across the table and realized his cousin had been speaking to him.
Carter gave him a shit-eating grin and shook his head. “Damn, man. Grab yourself a woman and fuck this aggression out of your system. You gotta blow off some steam before you talk to Uncle Brian or you’re bound to get your ass fired.”
Reed snorted and nodded. Carter was probably right. He scanned the bar for the first time since he’d walked in tonight. He hoped to spot Genevieve. Though he didn’t date—his job didn’t allow him much time for romance—he did enjoy the occasional hookup with Vivi. When he spotted her in the corner of the room, he smiled.
Carter caught the direction of his gaze and nodded his approval. “Good call. Vivi will cure what’s ailing you.”
“I think she just might.”
He grinned, about to stand, when a woman seated at the bar turned to retrieve something from her purse and caught his attention. She was clearly a businesswoman. Her expensively tailored suit, the briefcase at her feet, and the Droid she was typing into fast and furiously all proclaimed her role. He could only see her in profile, but he was taken aback by the delicate curve of her face, the single loose tendril of jet black hair that had escaped her stylishly pinned-up French twist. She appeared to be tall, with long legs that just wouldn’t quit. She was slim and, much to his chagrin, the size of her breasts was concealed by her suit jacket. He was a breast man through and through.
As he continued to watch her tap away at the tiny phone screen, he wondered for a moment what it was about her that was holding his attention. She was lovely, yes, but he’d seen more beautiful women. And while her body—what he could see of it—was hot, Vivi was just as shapely, just as sexy.
However, there was something about the way she held herself as she sat at the bar, quietly sipping from her glass of red wine. She simply exuded confidence and the image struck him as vaguely familiar, though he’d bet his entire life savings he’d never seen her before. He stared at her for several moments before he realized Carter had turned to see what he was looking at.
“Ah, the fair Francesca,” his cousin said.
“Francesca?”
Carter gestured toward the beautiful woman. “She’s a regular here. Comes in a couple times a week. Sometimes alone, sometimes with friends or colleagues. Trust me when I say you should stick with Vivi.”
“Why?” He wasn’t sure what prompted his question. Until Carter spoke, he’d had no intentions of approaching the woman. Now that his cousin had piqued his curiosity, he wasn’t so sure.
“Because she’s the female version of you, Reed. Powerful, successful, used to being in control. She wouldn’t go for that macho routine of yours. Women like her aren’t into men like us. When she settles down, it will be with a nice, biddable man who doesn’t mind a woman who wears the pants in the relationship. That’s sure as hell not you.”
Reed turned his attention away from the woman’s face and back to his cousin’s. “You seem to know quite a bit about her.”
“We’ve talked, just about shit in general, nothing personal. She’s smart and she’s funny, but she’s also…” Carter paused, and Reed sensed his cousin was searching for a word he couldn’t find, “…dominant.”
“Dominant?”
Carter shrugged. “I don’t mean in a leather-wearing, whip-wielding way, but yeah, she’s, well, hell, she’s you, but with boobs and nothing dangling between her legs.”
Reed laughed. “So you’re warning me away?”
“Honestly? Yes. You’re feeling sort of down right now and you need a pick-me-up, not more complications. Vivi’s made-to-order, no muss, no fuss. You two can get together, wrinkle the sheets for a little while and come tomorrow morning, your perspective on life will be clearer.”
Reed glanced at Vivi and knew his cousin made a good point. Being with her was easy, relaxing, comfortable. They knew what the other liked in bed and neither of them expected a morning-after courtesy call. Simple.
Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw Francesca move, turn her face toward the room. Her gaze met his and held. He leaned forward in his chair. It was the first time she’d acknowledged his presence. He narrowed his eyes, wondering what she was seeing. Was she feeling the same attraction? The same fascination? She studied him for only a fraction of a minute, mere seconds, but in that time, Reed felt as if he’d been shocked by the electrical current flowing between them.
“Should have saved my breath,” Carter said, rising.
“What?”
“I’ve never known you to take the easy way. Good luck, bud. You’re going to need it.” Carter turned and walked to his office, leaving Reed alone.
He looked at Vivi once more. She’d drop everything to spend the evening obeying his every command if he walked over and offered the invitation.
He didn’t.
Instead, he stood and walked toward the bar, toward Francesca.
Claiming the empty seat next to her, he waved the bartender over. “Hi, Joe. I’ll have a Guinness, and get another glass of red for Francesca here.”
She’d already been looking at him as he ordered, but when he mentioned her name, he noticed the slightest narrowing of her eyes.
“Do I know you?”
He shook his head. “No. My cousin Carter owns this bar. He mentioned your name to me.”
She digested that information as he studied her face. She was gorgeous. Now that they were in closer proximity, he was able to spot the slightest amount of her generous cleavage through her blouse.
“Up here, babe,” she said pointing to her face, when his eyes lingered too far south for a second too long.
He grinned at her joke. Oh yeah. She was everything his cousin described. Trouble in a thirty-four D cup. Good stuff.
“So, your cousin suggested that you buy me a drink?”
“No.” Reed pointed to where Vivi still sat behind her. “He told me to buy her a drink.”
Francesca glanced over her shoulder. “Pretty girl. Did you miss your mark? Need me to draw you a map? Help you get over there?”
“My sense of direction is just fine.”
She rested her chin on her hand and, for the briefest moment, he wondered what the hell was going on in her mind. Then the bartender returned with their drinks and distracted her.
She sighed heavily as she looked at the full glass of wine. “I really shouldn’t drink this. I’ve had two glasses already. I have a big day at work tomorrow and attempting it hungover isn’t a good strategy.”
He grinned. She clearly wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t even sure he’d call her tipsy, but she was definitely enjoying the relaxing effects of the wine.
“You strike me as the type who can handle her alcohol. And anything else that might come her way.” It was an obvious come-on, but he didn’t care. There was something about her that screamed sex…and something else. Some elusive something he couldn’t put his finger on.
He took a sip of his Guinness. The alcohol was working on smoothing his rough edges too. His neck wasn’t stiff anymore, and he was feeling looser, freer from the stress of work.
She leaned closer, her cheek still resting on her hand. “You know, I’ve always had this fantasy.”
He moved toward her. Her voice was low, husky, sexy as fuck. “Oh yeah?”
“Sex with a stranger.”
Her words hit him like a punch in the stomach, and his cock filled the maximum weight recommended for his pants in three seconds flat. There was no way he could adjust them without drawing her attention to his dilemma. Then he grinned and made the adjustment anyway.
Her eyes followed the motion of his fingers.
“Up here, babe,” he teased, mimicking her words.
She laughed. “You’re really Carter’s cousin?”
“Yep, I’m Re?—”
She cut him off quickly with a wave of her hand. “No. You tell me your name and we stop being strangers.”
She had a point. And a set of knockers that had him feeling light-headed.
Taking a deep breath, he decided to go for broke. “Where do you wanna do this?”
“Follow me.”
She rose from her barstool. Reaching down, she picked up her briefcase. “Hey, Joe. Do you mind stowing this behind the bar for me for a few minutes?”
Joe shook his head. “No prob.”
She threw her small purse over her head and shoulder, the long strap crossing between her breasts, accentuating the perfection of her figure. She took one of his hands in hers and led him toward the back hallway. Passing by the restrooms, she stepped through the outside door the led to the dark alleyway. While it was empty at the moment, they both knew anyone could walk their way in a moment’s notice.
Strangely, he liked that idea. He’d never considered himself an exhibitionist. Hell, he’d never taken a woman’s hand and let her lead him anywhere, yet he was following Francesca like a dog on a leash. The feeling, though uncomfortable, wasn’t unbearable. While she might have initiated the starting gate, he had no doubt he’d be driving by the time they crossed the finished line.
“Here,” she said, thrusting something into his hand. “Put this on.”
He looked down. She’d handed him a condom. He was equal parts horny and annoyed. Time for the tide to change.
Stepping closer, he turned her as he walked, pushing her against the wall. “You put it on me,” he demanded.
For the briefest moment he thought she was going to protest, but then she reached down and started tackling the button and zipper on his jeans.
He reached up, pushed her jacket and purse off her shoulders, and cupped her breasts. They were full and firm. Perfect. Tweaking her nipples through the thin material of her silk blouse and her bra, he enjoyed the image of her eyes drifting closed, the acceleration of her breath and the slight flush covering her cheeks.
“My pants,” he prodded, reminding her of her task.
She opened her eyes and gave him a smirk he immediately distrusted. “Say please.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Take my cock out and put the condom on it, Francesca. Now.”
Her hands stilled. “Beg me,” she taunted.
He moved his hands from her breasts to the wall at her back, caging her in, letting her feel his height, his size. It was a power play, pure and simple. She needed to understand that while he let her instigate the game, he was taking over. “Pull up your skirt.”
She shook her head. “One little word. That’s all you have to say. Say it. Say please.”
He gritted his teeth. He’d never been denied, never bedded a woman who didn’t play by his rules. “I’m not going to say it. Now, lift your skirt.”
“No.”
Reed took a deep breath, tried to calm his ragged nerves. “Have you changed your mind?”
“No. Have you?”
Reed rested his forehead against hers and tried to get his bearings. She was screwing with his head, messing with his needs. Fuck it.
She reached up and let one button loose on her blouse, baring more of her gorgeous cleavage.
No, he decided, fuck her.
He reached down to the hem of her skirt and thrust it up, bunching the material at her waist. Yanking hard, he pulled her panties down as she resumed releasing him from his pants. Their actions were frantic, hungry, and several times their hands bumped into each other in their rush to resume the fantasy.
“I’m going to fuck you hard,” he warned. She’d pushed him too far. He’d been a loose electrical wire all night and she’d triggered the spark.
“Do it,” she demanded. Her hand grasped his hard cock, and he sucked in a pained breath. He’d never been this erect, this ready. Jesus. He’d never make it to her cunt if she kept touching him like that.
Pulling her hand away, he took the condom from her and covered himself in one smooth, practiced move. Lifting her hips, he positioned himself at the opening of her body. Pausing, he realized he was about to take her, take this virtual stranger against the back wall of the bar. They were out in the open, in clear view should anyone venture their way. The idea was heady, the moment one of the most exciting of his life.
“What are you waiting for?” she prodded. “An engraved invitation?”
Smart-ass.
God, she was fantastic. Fascinating. Fucked.
Francesca moaned as the man pushed into her. What the hell was she doing? She wasn’t this kind of person. She didn’t invite a complete stranger to have sex with her against the wall of a bar.
It was stress, pure and simple. She was letting her everyday life get to her and she was acting in a way so out of character, she wasn’t sure she could even recognize the feminine voice begging the man to take her harder, faster.
The brick wall at her back scratched her sensitive skin through her shirt, the slight pain driving her arousal higher. She was on fire, her body at war with her conscience. Sex had never been this raw, this hot, this damn good. His grip on her ass tightened as he lifted her higher. She arched her back slightly, guaranteeing he could move in deeper. The adjustment had him touching that very magical place she could usually only find alone with her vibrator. No man had ever managed the feat.
“Jesus,” she groaned, her fingers digging into the material of his shirt, looking for something to anchor her to this spot forever. Stars started to appear behind her closed eyelids, and she knew she was quickly approaching the point of no return.
The man growled as her orgasm struck. It was no slow buildup. No gradual occurrence. It struck like lightning, flashing through her with such intensity, her toes curled in her high heels, her legs gripping his waist like a vise. He continued to thrust inside her as she came. He gave her no surcease, no rest. Her head swam with the realization he wasn’t finished with her yet.
Thank God.
“Put your legs down.” His voice was gruff, hard, the unfamiliar sound reminding her that she was indeed having sex with a stranger.
She frowned, wanting to protest. She may be a shark at work, but she always played fair. He hadn’t gotten his due. “We’re not stopping. You didn’t come yet.”
“I want to fuck you from behind.”
His declaration sent a fresh round of juices to her pussy and she quickly complied, dropping her legs, though the damn things were unable to support her weight. He’d fucked her silly already.
“Easy,” he murmured, wrapping his arm around her waist, twisting her until she faced the wall. He moved her body like she was made of clay, forming her, molding her until she was positioned just the way he wanted. She’d never let a man guide her like this.
Another part of the fantasy? She wasn’t sure, but there wasn’t time to consider her response when he shoved his cock to the hilt in one rough push.
She moaned, her body instantly welcoming him back with a mini-climax that shuddered throughout her frame. She vaguely heard him curse and she grinned, aware of the knowledge she was shaking some of Mr. Cool, Calm and Collected’s well-practiced restraint.
She’d seen him the second she’d entered the bar. He was hard to miss, sitting alone with a quiet confidence that seemed to proclaim the world was his for the taking. She could relate. She saw that same look in her mirror every morning. There were some people who were simply born to lead, born to conquer. She’d long ago given up fighting her nature, trying to fit into a man’s world as society’s vision of a woman. She was strong-willed, opinionated, smart and driven. She wouldn’t apologize for any of those things. One look at this stranger’s face had proven she’d found a kindred spirit.
“Bend over more,” he commanded, his hand on her upper back, pushing her lower. She complied, her palms flat against the bricks. She used her arms not only to support her against his potent onslaught, but to move back into his painfully beautiful blows. She couldn’t get enough of him.
“God,” she gasped. “Harder.”
His hands on her hips tightened and he doubled his speed, pounding inside her in the way she’d only ever dreamed of. Her dominant personality tended to scare away stronger men, leaving her with bedmates who were too gentle, too meek, too fucking lame to waste her time on. She craved this man’s strength, his confidence, his skill.
She’d covertly watched him all night, warring with herself over whether or not to approach him. The closeness she’d seen between him and Carter had solidified her decision to approach him. She knew Carter to be a shrewd, intelligent, honorable man. He wouldn’t be friends with anyone who didn’t share at least some of those traits, and it was then she knew she’d offer her one-night stand. She’d been shocked when he approached her first.
“Goddammit,” he murmured against the back of her head. She tilted her face, loving the feeling on his hot breath on her cheek as he bent over her. “So fucking good.”
She agreed. It was perfect. His words triggered a reaction, and she gave herself up to her third—and strongest—orgasm yet.
This time, she took him down with her, his body jerking into her one, two, three more times as he came. She rested her forehead against the wall, praying it didn’t leave scratches on her face. They could be hard to explain in the morning.
Both of them were gasping for breath, neither of them in a hurry to move, to part. She felt his cock softening in her body. It was over. Her most wicked fantasy realized. How many nights had she lain in bed and masturbated to the image of some faceless man approaching her in an alley, pushing her against the wall, taking her? She’d just given herself to a tall, dark, handsome, commanding stranger, and she had to admit the reality was a hell of a lot hotter than the dream.
Her traitorous body quivered a bit, sorry to see it end and ready to do it all again. He must have felt her reaction, so his words surprised her.
“Stand up.”
Regretfully, she pushed herself upright, reaching down to slip her skirt back over her hips. He pulled off the condom and disposed of it in a dumpster a few feet away before zipping up his pants. Within seconds, they were both decently covered once more.
Her panties were lying on the ground and she bent to retrieve them, but he halted her with a firm hand on her upper arm.
“Leave them there.”
Her eyes narrowed and she bristled at his continually condescending tone. It wasn’t one that ever worked well with her. It reminded her too much of her strict father.
While she’d enjoyed this stranger’s strength as he fucked her, she wasn’t a woman who would ever be commanded, ordered about.
“No,” she said, starting to bend once more. She was surprised when he released her arm, bent down and quickly scooped up her panties before she could reach them. She held out her hand, but he shook his head and put them in his pants pocket.
“Give them to me.” She held her hand up higher.
He grinned. “Nope. They’re mine. Little souvenir.”
“I’m not fucking Disneyland. Give me my panties.”
He moved forward, once more pushing her against the bar’s rough wall. Before, it had been a turn-on, but now it was a power play that merely annoyed her. He may have her in the height and build category, but she wasn’t that easy to push around. “Give them to me or I’ll make you very sorry.”
“No.”
He turned quickly as she struck, her knee finding only his firm, muscular thigh.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. I wouldn’t be so quick to maim me, sweetheart. What about round two?”
Now it was her turn to shake her head. “There won’t be a round two. I got what I wanted. Game over.”
She expected her self-assured tone to do the trick, call him off. God knew it worked on at least ninety-nine percent of the people she’d ever met. All she had to do was look the person in the eye, give them the tone, and they’d back off. No matter what the argument. This man didn’t move.
“Not yet, it’s not.”
“Excuse me. I told you what I wanted and I got it. Now step away and give me my panties.”
“I’m keeping the panties.”
“Listen, you son of a b?—”
He cut off her words with a firm hand on her chin, interrupting her. “I’ll pay you for them.”
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. He was standing too close, holding her too sweetly. No one caressed her, coddled her, but that’s what this felt like. “Pay me? I’m rich. I don’t need your money.”
He laughed. “I wasn’t talking about money. I was talking about this.”
He bent down, leaned in for a kiss. She panicked. “No.” She turned her head at the last moment, his lips grazing her cheek as she twisted. “No kisses.”
“Why not?” He was still standing too close, and his question tickled her ear. She could tell by his tone he was undeterred.
“Because I don’t want you to kiss me. That’s not what this was about.”
He leaned back, and she breathed a bit easier. “Just sex with a stranger.”
She nodded.
“I want to see you again.”
She barked out a laugh. “No. No way. In case you haven’t been paying attention, we’ve already stretched our compatibility limits to the hilt. A few more words from either of us and the cable’s gonna break and slice us both in half.”
He seemed to enjoy her assessment, and she could see by the look in his eyes, he agreed. “Maybe you’re right.”
“I’m always right.” She hadn’t meant her words as a joke, but his laughter seemed to insinuate that he’d taken them that way.
“You are a very interesting woman, Francesca.”
She shrugged, but a small part of her liked his flattering remark. Knew that coming from this man it was high praise indeed.
“Keep the panties,” she said at last, pushing against his chest. He took two steps back and she knew it wasn’t because of her force, but because he was ready to free her.
“I’d planned on it.”
She snorted out a brief laugh. Oh yeah, they’d never be able to coexist in the same room for more than three minutes. Neither of them willing to give an inch.
“You have a very pretty smile.”
She sucked in a breath at the compliment. Men didn’t shower her with flowery words. She wondered if they thought she was so self-confident she didn’t need them.
“Thank you.” Though she’d spoken them in response to his comment, she realized she was thanking him for much more than that. “I have to go. Early day tomorrow.”
He nodded. “Me too. Good night, Francesca.”
She gave him another smile. “Good night, stranger.”
As she walked back into the bar, her thoughts whirled over the evening and her actions. In her professional life, she was used to taking what she wanted, fighting to achieve every goal she’d ever set for herself. Tonight was the first time she’d done the same for her personal life.
“Hey, Joe.” She waved to get the bartender’s attention.
“Leaving?”
She nodded as he bent down to retrieve her briefcase, handing it to her.
“Happy Birthday, Francesca.”