Page 14

N eed, desperate and unfettered, churned inside my chest like a whirlpool pulling me deeper.

“I think we should skip dessert.”

I had my driver pull over the second she said that and kicked the fucker out of the car. He could walk home for all I cared.

Then, I walked my little Darlin’ to the passenger side and settled her in, buckling her safety belt for obvious reasons.

Next, I got in on the other side and I started driving like a bat out of hell.

I didn’t need one of my guys waiting around for me to be finished with this. And I sure as fuck didn’t want him anywhere near her when she looked all soft and sweet.

Desirable as fuck.

In fact, I had to remember to punch my driver’s fucking face for sneaking that peek at her legs earlier.

I liked Shane, but if he ever did that shit again, he was a fucking dead man.

Clementine didn’t seem to question the fact she hadn’t given me an address or directions.

Her chest was rising and falling faster with every second that passed, and I realized this impossible attraction I felt for her was mutual.

She wanted me, and it made my dick turn to steel.

I entered the underground garage and tossed my keys to the valet service, stopping the punk with one hand as I opened her door.

“Good evening, Miss Aziz,” the man said, and nodded at her.

“Good evening, Laurence. Please park the truck in my guest spot,” she told him, making me growl.

She had a guest spot.

Why didn’t I know this? And did she use it often?

No. I shook my head. I’d been surveilling Clementine Aziz for a year now. I knew she wasn’t seeing anyone.

Still, jealousy gnawed at me like an angry beast on the hunt. I placed my hand on her lower back, guiding her to where two elevators waited at the back wall.

“The left,” she murmured, and I led her there, pretending like I didn’t fucking know that was her private elevator.

Opening my hand, I took her keycard from her and swiped it, waiting as she lifted her hand to unlock the biometric system that would bring the car to her apartment.

Very nice.

But I would expect nothing less for the daughter of the founder of Sigma International.

I returned the card, growling at the fact it wasn’t mine to keep.

It was stupid.

This was her home, not mine.

But something inside me was pushing me to take charge. The feeling was primal and unrefined. I wanted to stake my claim.

To mark my territory.

And that was not the plan. Not at all.

Plans changed , my inner voice reminded me, and I had to bite back a snort of disbelief.

What the fuck was wrong with me? Besides the obvious.

My heart was beating so loudly I was worried she could hear it. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her, otherwise I might try to fuck her right here.

Goddamn, her skin felt warm beneath her dress. I slid my fingers from the small of her back all the way up to her neck, gripping her there and breathing in deep.

She smelled good.

Sweet.

Innocent.

Like warm vanilla and bright citrus.

I suppose that went with her name, but Christ, I didn’t expect how it would affect me.

My balls felt heavy, like my dick was liable to explode at the first touch.

Not damn likely.

I was not what I would call a giver when it came to sex, but I knew how to please a lady. I just never cared very much before.

But now, with her , as I breathed in her vanilla citrus scent, I found myself wanting to.

Give that is.

It was unsettling, in a way.

I’d always prided myself on control, on keeping a safe distance from anyone who might get too close.

But now, I was here, standing in the glow of her presence, with that sweet scent in my lungs, and for the first time, I didn’t mind the idea of losing a little control.

I wanted to—no, I needed to —give.

“You okay there, Stud Muffin?”

“Stud Muffin?” I snorted.

“You call me Darlin’,” she said and shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I’m not a fucking muffin,” I growled, squeezing her neck.

She grinned wickedly and her green eyes sparkled with mischief as she bit her lower lip.

“Just Stud then, alright,” she teased, and I growled, bending my head and nipping her lip myself.

God, she was fun like this. Sassy and sweet. I couldn’t help it, I savaged her mouth, driving my tongue deep.

I tasted vanilla oranges, and fuck me, it was the kind of flavor that I knew would linger on my lips like a soft whisper.

It was subtle yet undeniable.

It made me think of lazy summer mornings when the sun was just beginning to rise, casting everything in a golden haze.

Her presence was like that, refreshing and calming all at once.

My life wasn’t easy. My father had fucked things up for my family for as long as I could remember, but his final masterpiece had lasting effects.

I’d been in my twenties. A punk, really. But the things he did ensured I would have no place in the underworld where he conducted his business.

I had to find my own way. I had to claw and scratch and dig myself out of the shit pile he’d buried the Callahan name under.

So I learned to be hard.

Ambitious.

Cunning.

Relentless.

And I was close, too. So close to making it bigger than the old man ever dreamed.

Clementine was the means I intended to use to deliver the final piece of my plan. I had to remember that.

Only I wasn’t expecting this.

I didn’t think she had it in her to catch me off guard. But I was wrong.

I breathed in again, and her scent filled me just as the elevator doors pinged and opened up right inside her penthouse.

It was like her. Warm and bright.

High ceilings.

Large, unadorned windows.

Polished wood floors.

Ivory walls.

Everything was tastefully decorated with bold splashes of greens, oranges, and yellows.

It was beautiful. Striking. Homey even.

Her warmth seeped through my fingertips where I still held on to her as we stepped off the elevator.

Like I was afraid she’d disappear if I let go.

I let her warmth surround me even as I took her jacket and placed it on a hook, mine beside it.

Everything else faded into the background as she turned to face me in that spectacular fucking dress, leaving only the sharp clarity of her fragrance.

It was almost like an invitation, drawing me closer, but also making me feel something I wasn’t prepared for.

A little dizzy, perhaps.

Maybe even a little vulnerable.

I’d heard people talk about how a scent could be intoxicating, but I never really understood it until now.

Until her.

And just like that, I was already hooked.

My cock pressed against my zipper, eager to be set free.

Clementine was twenty-seven. Fifteen years my junior.

Too young for me.

Too damn sweet.

But I wasn’t foolish enough to walk away from this.

From her.

Oh, I’d fully intended to seduce her, if necessary. If the opportunity arose.

I’d gone over dozens of different ways to plant the virus I carried on my phone onto her business laptop. The best option was always this.

Take her to bed.

Stuff her with my cock.

Plant the bug while she slept.

Then leave.

Easy peasy.

But every scenario left my brain the second those doors opened.

“Second thoughts?” she asked as she reached behind her.

My mouth opened as I listened to the zipper being pulled down.

I shook my head.

The lights were off, but there was a glow coming from the windows and the city below or the one across the Hudson, I couldn’t be sure.

Or maybe that was just moonlight seeping in through the reinforced glass of the one-way wall of windows behind her.

“Good.”

Then she shrugged her shoulders and that wisp of verdant silk that had been teasing me all night long fell to her feet in a gentle swoosh of fabric and need.

I paused.

Her beauty was enough to render me immobile.

Then she sucked in a breath, and it was all the green light I needed to pounce.