Page 11

Dirty Rich Obsession Page 11

by Lisa Renee Jones


“Hi, Carrie. I’m Connie.”

And prettier up close. Late thirties I think, around Reid’s age. “Hi, Connie.”

“You’re stunning,” she says, shocking me with the compliment “I love it. The next CEO of the company, and you’re young, gorgeous, and in control.”

“Thank you, but Reid is in control.”

Her lips quirk. “Right. Reid is in control.” Her blue eyes dance with mischief and some private secret that I find disconcerting. “I’m running to the DA’s office to grab a file for Reid. Can I get you anything on my way back?”

“That’s very thoughtful, but I’m fine, thank you. I’m headed downstairs. I’ll walk with you.” I motion her forward and we head toward the lobby.

It’s not until we’re in the elevator that I say, “I hope that’s the settlement for the victims of that serial killer you’re picking up.”

Surprise lights her eyes. “You know about Reid’s case.”

“I do,” I say. “But he assures me that fighting for the innocent doesn’t make him a good guy.”

She snorts. “I wonder if he’s trying to convince you or him. Actually, I’m surprised he told you about the case.”

“I just happened to be around at the right time.”

“There’s no such thing with Reid. I’ve been with him for ten years. I know. There is what he lets you see and what he doesn’t let you see.”

I’m reminded of last night, of me accusing him of being an asshole because I see too much, but I set that aside for now. I focus on her. “Are you two—”

“No,” she says. “Never. I’m not beyond seeing his beauty, but I’m not into arrogant alpha assholes. I have enough of those I call family, but that’s also why I get him, and why we work well together.” She lifts her wrists and shows me the dainty diamond watch on her wrist. “And he buys me gifts.”

My eyes go wide. “He does?”

“Well, I buy me gifts after he works me to death, blows a date I might have enjoyed, or he’s a big ass in a larger than normal way. I have his AmEx. I use it.”

I laugh. “You must get gifts all the time. He’s such a big ass.”

The elevator dings and she sobers, “You can handle him. I can tell. So can he, and that’s a good thing. It’s why he respects me. I can handle him.” She catches the door. “So can you,” she repeats. “I’ll be back soon.” She heads out of the car and takes off. I follow her, repeating her words: There is what he lets you see and what he doesn’t let you see. Reid didn’t accidentally tell me that I was in his head. He wanted me to know.

I set the thought aside out of necessity and walk to security. After fifteen minutes of coordination, I’m just about to get on the elevator back upstairs when my cellphone rings with a new number that has my eyes going wide. Elijah Woodson is calling me. Elijah, who is a billionaire that I’ve all but groveled to, to get to invest with us. I step to the side of the elevator to avoid service interruption and answer. “Elijah,” I say. “How are you?”

“I hear you’re the future CEO over there.”

“That’s the buzz,” I say.

“That works for me.”

My heart starts to race. “As in, you’ll invest?”

“In you, yes. For the right project. Find it and make sure it’s really right, Carrie.”

“How much money are we talking?”

“How much are you going to convince me to give you?”

“It’s going to be a large sum.”

“That I better not lose. Send me a contract. I’ll be waiting.”

“Wait,” I say quickly. “Why now?”

“Because your father is gone.” He disconnects and my stomach knots. What was happening with my father that other people knew and I did not?

My stomach knots and I punch the elevator button. I need to set the personal part of this aside. I was just given a gift that makes that financial goal Reid set possible. I need to get the team working on prospects before I consider the implications of the negativity surrounding my father. The elevator doors open and I wait impatiently to arrive back on our floor. My destination is not left toward the lobby and my office, but right, where I enter the offices that house our sales team. Walking down a path between cubicles, I waste no time gathering my best half-dozen to the edge of their cubicles.

“I need your biggest plays for Elijah Woodson and I need them by tomorrow. The bigger, the better, and if you aren’t sure it’s the right project, get me facts and let me decide. Call the investors that know you. Get them interested in whatever we do with Elijah.”

“Hold the name back,” Reid says, stepping to my side, and glancing down at me, those blue eyes piercing mine. “There’s a development we need to discuss first.”

Anger boils inside me but I manage to contain it. I glance at the group. “Get to work. Get me your proposals by tomorrow.” I rotate and start walking.

Reid is instantly by my side, keeping pace but neither of us speak. I’m too angry. He’s too in control. We exit to the elevator banks. “Let’s go to my office,” he orders tightly.

“I’ll meet you there,” I reply without looking at him, aware that I need to cool off before I talk to this man. I cut to the stairwell and exit. I’ve barely made it inside and Reid is there, pressing me into a corner, his big body framing mine.

“Running again?”

I press my hand to his chest. “I’m not running. I’m sparing your life. You do not want to fight with me when I’m this angry. You say I have the chance to be CEO and yet you pull the rug out from under a huge deal I brought to the table. Me. Not you.”

“If you’d hear me out, you’d know your anger is misplaced.”

“My anger? Or my attraction to you that is completely misplaced? I must be a sadist.”

He tangles fingers in my hair. “Let me remind you what keeps you coming back for more.”

“Do not even think about kissing me.”

“Too late,” he says. “I’m always thinking about kissing you. I can’t change that. I’m done trying.”

“If you kiss me—”

His mouth closes down on mine.

Chapter Eighteen

Carrie

Reid kisses me and I know I should resist. I’m furious with this man over the Elijah deal, and yet when his tongue strokes past my lips, I moan with the connection. In other words, I don’t resist. I lean into him, I savor the hunger I taste in him, and I tell myself he owes me this. And so I give myself just a few moments to be lost in this man when suddenly, he’s on his knees and my dress is gliding up my hips.

“What are you doing?” I demand, trying to catch his hands.

“Reminding you why you don’t say no.”

“You mean because I apparently like assholes? Anyone could come in here.”

His hand slides between my thighs, cupping my sex. “Then I’d better be fast.” And damn it, he rips my favorite panties off. I yelp with the force and the next minute, his mouth is on me and I try to resist the drugging effect, but the man is really good at this.

I moan, unable to stop the sound from sliding from my throat, and my head falls back against the wall while he licks and explores. He is without mercy, flicking my clit with his thumb while his tongue is delving in and out, over and around. His fingers slip inside me, stretching me, and traveling my sex. My breath rasps from my dry throat and I reach for him, my fingers tangling in his hair. I am not gentle. I want to punish him. He’s punishing me, showing me who owns who and I can’t stop it from happening.

His fingers and tongue work magic together, stroking me, driving me wild. Blood roars in my ears and the stairwell fades away. There is only what he is doing to me, and the sweet spot he’s touching, and the next. Every place he touches is a sweet spot. My sex tightens into a hard clench, and remotely, I hear my own panting echoing in the small space, seeming to bounce off the walls, but I can’t seem to care. Not with Reid’s tongue in all the right places. I’m mindless and without inhibitions. I ar
ch against him, pump my hips against his hand, and with one more lick my body clenches. I tumble into orgasm, oh God, I tumble hard, and it’s over far too quickly. I’m barely back to reality when a door somewhere slams and I jerk. “Reid,” I plead desperately. He licks me once more, drags my dress down, and stands, cupping my face. He kisses me, a long stroke of tongue before he says, “I’ll leave out the lobby door and come back up.”

He releases me and heads for the stairs. “All that did was prove that your power plays know no limits. Elijah is a big business for us.”

He’s back in front of me in two seconds. “Elijah hates me. He came to you with the full intent of burning you to burn me. Like it or not, you’re with me now, and that means he’s not just my enemy. He’s yours. But I’m not, Carrie. I’m not your enemy.” He heads down the stairs.

I am struck by the fact that a) after giving me an orgasm in the stairwell, he’s actually concerned about discretion, thus leaving separately, and b) that comment about me being with him felt far more personal than professional, but then I’m riding the intimacy of his mouth on my body. And actually, there is a c) which includes questions I need answered.

“Reid!” I call out, racing down the stairs. “Reid, wait. Reid.” I’m a full two flights down and working my way past another when he appears at the bottom of that level.

I hurry the rest of the way down the stairs. “I have a question,” I say joining him on the landing. “What enemy would come at you this directly? He knows you’ll know. He knows you’ll stop an attack.”

“Which is the point,” he says. “He knows. I know. When I turn him down, and I will, the board will want an explanation.”

“How can we get burned if he hands us money?”

“He has a plan.”

“Maybe that plan is to get you to say no and look bad to the board,” I counter. “And you’re doing what he wants.”

“We aren’t doing this deal with him.”

“You’re good at what you do,” I say, stepping closer to him, wanting to shake the man. “You can beat him and take his money. I know you can. If I didn’t know you were that good, I wouldn’t be here with you.”

His hands settle on my waist and he pulls me to him. “We are not taking this risk.”

I don’t push away from him. Somehow, talking to this man, with his hands on my body, has become more normal than not. “We or you?”

“You’re with me now. I’m protecting us both.”

“Then we can beat him together, Reid.”

“No.”

“Yes,” I say.

“Woman.”

“You said saying it’s possible makes it possible.”

“No.” He backs me up and presses me against the door. “Just because you can doesn’t always mean you should.”

“Does that include us?”

“Yes, but at least we want the same things, including each other. He does not.”

It’s the first time we’ve talked about wanting each other without denial.

“There’s more to this story than you know,” he adds. “We will not do this deal. We’ll get a new deal.”

“Tell me the story.”

He studies me several beats, his expression unreadable before he pulls me to him, kisses me and says, “No,” and with that, he releases me and leaves.

***

I spend the afternoon researching Reid and Elijah, looking for a connection that I can’t find. What I do find is details on the case Reid is handling. People died and the DA charged the wrong man, and even after he was acquitted, the DA didn’t look for the real killer—who killed again. And Reid is suing the DA. It’s not his kind of case—well, not now, but looking back, he represented a lot of random cases that weren’t just about money. I am curious about the man who is so much more than all of his money, but tonight isn’t the night I find out. By five, my email is already filling with staff ideas for Elijah and I move to my conference table to start working through them because we are doing this deal. I’m going to make it happen.

“Have you eaten at all?” Sallie asks, motioning to the sandwich still on my desk.

“Cookies. A lot of cookies and tomorrow it will be a salad.”

She shoves blonde hair from her eyes and sits down next to me. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’m good. Go to your Tuesday night yoga class.”

“I don’t care about yoga. I’ve been with you for five years. I know what this company means to you. You made it matter to me. And frankly, I’m thirty next month. I don’t want to start over somewhere else. What can I do to help?”

“You already are. Really. You are amazing. Go. I just need some time to work on my own.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive,” I assure her.

“Okay. Can I at least get you food?”

“No food.” I point to the bag of cookies next to me, with only one left. “I’m quite well taken care of.”

She smiles and hurries toward the door. I quickly get back to work and have a thought. I dial Royce Walker. “Problem?” he answers.

“Why do you always think there’s a problem?” I ask.

“That’s why people call me.”

“Right. Elijah Woodson. I need to know everything about him, how he might burn our company, how we might burn him.”

“You want to know how to burn him?”

“That does seem the best way to keep him from burning us.”

He’s silent for two beats. “I’ll look into it.”

We disconnect and I feel good about that call. There’s a way to do this deal and while I don’t like to play dirty, if someone plans to burn me, I have to ensure they can’t.

It’s at least another hour before Connie pokes her head in the door, a long blonde curl bouncing by her face. Good Lord, I’m surrounded by gorgeous blonde women. “I’m headed out, but Reid wanted me to tell you that your call to Royce was unnecessary. He has it handled.”

I am instantly hot under the collar. “Did he now?”

“Yes,” she says. “I take it that doesn’t please you.”

“No,” I reply tightly. “It doesn’t, but I’ll handle it.”

She laughs. “I’m certain that you will. Good night.” She disappears and I am on my feet in an instant. I exit my office and walk toward Reid’s open door, the sound of voices lifting in the air. His brother again, and I don’t care.

I enter Reid’s office and he looks up as I do, those blue eyes lit with expectation. He knows what he did. I know what he expects. For me to back off with Gabe present. I don’t. I cross to his desk and stop between them, leaning on the endcap of the desk to stare at Reid. “If you think your brother being here will shut me up, you’re wrong.”

“There are only a few things that shut you up and we both know it,” he replies dryly.

I ignore his reference to us fucking on this very desk. “I had every right to call Royce for the answers you won’t give me.”

“If you want information, ask me,” he says.

“I did. You said no.”

“You know what you need to know,” he replies arrogantly.

“What you want me to know is more like it.”

Gabe clears his throat. “Either you two need to get a room or I need to leave to give you this one.”

“Stay,” I say, looking at Gabe and then Reid. “We both know we don’t communicate when we’re alone.”

“On the contrary,” Reid counters. “Those one-on-one sessions have proven enlightening.”

“I think you use anything you can to distract me when we fight, your brother included, because I’m winning. And you don’t like to lose. This isn’t over. We aren’t done.” I turn and walk toward the door.

Once I’m in my office, I gather my things and I leave.

***

Hours later, I’ve finished a run, and I hate that I hoped to run into Reid. I hate that he’s become damn near an obsession. He’s all I can think about. Determined to g
et him out of my mind, I shower and have pulled on sweats to hunt down food when the doorbell rings with what has to be a delivery. No one but security, who brings the packages, can get up here without me knowing. I answer the door to find a small box in the guard’s hands.

Curious, and certain this must be from my father, I sit on the couch and open the box to find four pairs of panties inside. My heart starts to race and I reach for the card that reads: We agree. It’s not over and we’re not done.

Chapter Nineteen

Carrie

I don’t really spend a lot of time fretting over what to do about the panties Reid just had delivered. I curl up on the couch and call him. He answers on the first ring. “You got my package.”

Oh God, why does this man’s voice do funny things to my stomach? “And you,” I say, “tore my favorite panties today.”

“Favorite? Well then, I’ll have to give them a closer inspection. I was more interested in the woman wearing them.”

“You mean in shutting down my anger. Distracting me from the fight.”

“I like fighting with you, Carrie. Every time you get angry, I want to fuck you.”

“And yet you, intentionally pissed me off tonight when Gabe was in your office.”

“Connie was supposed to leave sooner than she left, and Gabe showed up without warning. Considering that fact, and how much I wanted to be inside you again, Connie did us a favor. Gabe would have interrupted and the office isn’t enough. I want you here with me.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Why? You don’t want me to fuck you out of my system?”

“I don’t want to be laying in your bed when you say: ‘get dressed and go home,’ like you did in your office.”

He’s silent for two beats before he says, “That’s not going to happen.”

“I just—No.”

“Carrie.”

“No, Reid.”

“Then meet me at the railing where we were last night. We’ll talk.”

“You want to talk?”

“Yes, Carrie.” His voice is sandpaper and silk. “I do.”

“Why?”

“Meet me.” He hangs up.