The One You Want (9 page)

“Not another sound, honey. Okay? All right?”

“Yes, yes,” she said more loudly than she’d probably intended, and he covered her mouth with his free hand. All the while he continued to work her, thrusting his fingers, the palm of his hand pressing where she ached the most. Her hips moved with his motions, rocking, rocking, seeking more, seeking something deeper. He gave it to her, sliding in another finger. Just like that, she shattered, coming apart in his arms.

He released her mouth and yanked her against him, pressing her face in the hollow of his neck. She bit the cord running to his shoulder and the pleasure-pain of it almost sent him over the edge.

He was ripping at the waist of his pants when he heard someone call, “Who’s back there?”

Kenna went rigid again, and this time it wasn’t because of the pleasure.

Well, well. He had more restraint than he’d realized. For her—for what was best for her. He hurriedly straightened her clothing, then his own, and whispered, “Stay here and rejoin the festivities from the other side.”

Though he was trembling, he stepped into the light. “Can’t a guy take a piss in private?”

CHAPTER NINE

K
ENNA
’
S
MIND
PACKED
up and moved into the clouds, and she just sort of floated through the next few days, even though she hadn’t gotten to see Dane again. He was back in the city, working, and hadn’t visited his new ranch. Which was good. She had Norrie and work. More work than ever, since she was picking up every extra shift she could, now that she didn’t have school. But every night he called her, checking on her, thrilling her.

I want you back in my arms,
he’d say
.

She wanted that, too. Wanted another earth-shattering kiss. His beautiful taste, all male. The feel of his skin against hers, white hot. The prickle of his five o’clock shadow. The hardness of his muscle. The pleasure of his erection rubbing against her, stoking her need for him higher and higher. The thickness of his fingers, impaling her. She shivered, even now.

She had to see him again. Like, yesterday. He’d awoken a storm of yearning inside her, and there was no getting rid of it. So, she did something she’d never done before. She arranged for someone else to take her shift at work and for Norrie to stay the night at a friend’s house after school, and then borrowed Brook Lynn’s car. The old clunker barely made it to the offices of MG&E.

It was as Kenna stood in the back of a crowded elevator, riding up to the top floor of the chrome-and-glass building, that she began to doubt the wisdom of her impulsive act. Dane was a busy man. He could be in meetings, or even out of town. And what if she embarrassed him? She wore her usual T-shirt and jeans while other females nearby wore dresses and high heels.

Chin up. Shoulders back. Smile.

Maybe she should step to the side and call him before she actually went knocking on his office door.

Ding.

The elevator doors opened up. Everyone flooded into the lobby, and she realized there was nowhere to move aside. Though spacious, every inch led to the reception area, where two women manned the counter. Both were pretty and young and as well dressed as everyone else.

Three of her elevator mates bypassed the counter without a word, two going through the door on the right and one going through the door on the left. Must work here. Another elevator mate, a female, stopped at the counter.

“I’m here to see Dane,” she said, and Kenna frowned.

Know that voice.
But from where...where? The answer clicked into place. Jada from the engagement party.

Kenna stiffened, her heart dropping into her stomach. At least the receptionist didn’t immediately take the girl back.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No,” Jada huffed. “Just tell Dane I’m here and that I’d like to speak with him. It’s important. A matter of life and death.”

The receptionist picked up the phone, muttered a few words. So. Dane was in the building.
Still.
I should leave. I’m acting just like his other women, dropping by without an appointment.
That had to be annoying to him.

“I’m sorry,” the receptionist said, returning the phone to its receiver. “But he’s in a meeting.”

“Did you tell him who I am? Jada Hamilton. And that it’s an emergency.”

“I told him.”

Jada sucked in a breath. “Bastard,” she muttered. She spun on her heel and almost knocked into Kenna. Her eyes widened. “You!”

“Me,” she managed. She took a step back. Coming here had been a mistake. A huge mistake. He was in a meeting, and she had no right to disturb him.

“You might as well go,” Jada said, tone clipped. “He’s in a meeting.”

“I heard.”

Jada linked their arms and guided Kenna back to the elevators. “You’re his sister, right?”

“Stepsister.”

“But you still know him well.”

Did anyone ever really know a man like Dane? “I suppose.”

“Tell me. How many others have you seen him with? I try and try to get him to open up, to commit, but he never will. He’s like an island, you know, and only a few people are allowed to visit...before being shipped off. I know I can make him happy if only he’ll give me a chance.”

The words were flying at Kenna without pause, and she could barely keep up.

“He resists anything long-term,” Jada said. “Has he ever told you why?”

Ding.
The elevator doors opened up and an older African-Amarican man stepped out. He nodded at them and moved on, and Jada and Kenna took his place inside the box.

“Well,” Jada prompted.

“No,” she replied honestly. But she could guess. His dad.

“He told me we were done,” the woman said with a sigh. “Why would he do that unless he’s scared of what he feels for me?”

Because of what he feels for
me
.
Warmth poured through Kenna. He’d kept his word. Wasn’t seeing other women.

“I must have gotten too close,” Jada said.

“You mentioned an emergency,” Kenna said, changing the subject. “A matter of life and death.”

The girl sighed. “The life and death of our relationship.”

“Miss Starr!” a harried voice called. The elevator doors were in the process of closing. An arm shot through the center, stopping them. The frowning receptionist stepped halfway inside. “Mr. Michaelson will see you.”

She blinked, surprised. “But his meeting...”

“He’ll see you.”

Jada stiffened.

How had Dane even known Kenna was here?

She pulled from his ex, hating that the girl was hurt by his rejection but also happy for herself—was that wrong?—and followed after the receptionist. Details of the office she’d missed because of her nervousness registered. The gleam of the hardwood floors and the plushness of the rugs. The paintings on the walls were all florals, and she wondered who had chosen them. Not Dane, surely. The counter was white marble veined with rose.

The door on the right opened into an active hallway with multiple office doors on one side and cubicles on the other. Many eyes watched her curiously as she passed, and she curbed the urge to smooth her hands over her hair and clothing.

The receptionist opened the French doors at the far end, and several males stomped out. She motioned for Kenna to enter. Then those doors were closed, and Kenna was alone with Dane.

He strode toward her, and wow, he looked gorgeous. Like a model himself, set apart from the rest of the world, utterly unattainable.

“I interrupted your meeting,” she said, heart hammering against her ribs. He’d had those lips on her, those fingers inside her.

Hammering harder.

He reached her, wrapped his arms around her. She could feel the long, rigid length of him, and it only made her craving for him worse. “Let’s get out of here,” he said.

Yes, oh, yes. “No,” she said with a shake of her head, and pulled from his embrace.

He followed her, even as she evaded him. “I’m not ruining your workday,” she insisted.

“No, you’re not. You’re making it better.”

Even harder.

“I don’t know why you came, but I’m glad you did.” His voice was husky with arousal. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” She allowed him to catch her again and ran her hands up his chest, discovered his heart was beating as erratically as hers, and framed his cheeks. “I know we said we’d take things slow, but I thought we could negotiate and speed things up.”

He pressed his lips against hers, taking the barest taste with his tongue.

“I agree. Like I said, let’s go.” He grabbed her hand, yanked her toward the door. “We’ll do our negotiating in private.”

A buzz sounded from his desk. “Mr. Winstead is here,” the receptionist announced.

Dane cursed under his breath and released her to scrub a hand through his hair. “I forgot. Damn it. I can’t reschedule this. Give me an hour and we’ll go back to my place.”

“Shall I wait in the lobby?”

“Honey, you just got here. I’m not letting you out of my sight.” He led her to a plush leather couch, gave her another kiss, then another, this one lingering. His tongue came out to play with hers. He wrapped his arms around her.

“Mr. Michaelson?”

With another curse, Dane released her and stalked to his desk. He jabbed a button and said, “Send him back.”

Not knowing what else to do, Kenna eased onto the couch. The door opened a minute later, and the receptionist stepped inside. She gave the office a visual sweep, stopping on Kenna and gaping. The African-American man who’d exited the elevators strode inside behind her. She exited, and the door closed.

As Mr. Winstead and Dane shook hands, the other man noticed her. She gave a little wave.

“Miss Starr will be taking notes,” Dane said, then winked at her.

A blush warmed her cheeks. The meeting kicked off, and she picked up words like “drilling,” “refining” and “processing.” Something about NYMEX again, and a “benchmark.” Just like at the engagement party, everything went over her head.

At one point, Dane called out, “Do you concur, Miss Starr?”

What else could she say but, “I concur, Mr. Michaelson. Of course.”

He sighed with exaggerated heaviness. “That certainly complicates things.”

She almost had a panic attack. Had she just ruined his meeting? “I mean, I
don’t
concur!”

While still talking to Mr. Winstead, he walked to the wet bar and poured a drink. She expected him to give it to his guest, but he gave it to Kenna and traced his fingertip along her jaw before returning to his desk. Her need for him returned in a rush.

As if it had ever really left.

She took a sip of her drink—ginger ale. One of her favorites.

“No, I did not say that,” Mr. Winstead suddenly burst out.

“You did,” Dane said calmly.

“Miss Starr. Repeat back to me the last thing I said to Mr. Michaelson.”

Uh...”No, I did not say that.”

Dane covered his mouth with his hand—to stop a laugh?

Mr. Winstead glared at her. “Before that.”

“I don’t actually know,” she admitted.

“Then what the hell are you doing here?”

“All right. Enough,” Dane said, all pretense of calm gone. “This meeting is now over.” He stood and extended his hand. “My terms are nonnegotiable. Take them or leave them.”

Mr. Winstead mumbled something, but the two shook hands. When Mr. Winstead left, he winked at her as Dane had, surprising her, making her think he’d gotten what he’d wanted out of their deal, whatever it was, but had played a role for show. Men! She would never understand them, but she would probably always enjoy looking at them.

The door shut, and Dane was pulling her to her feet, wrapping his arms around her. “Finally.” He kissed her, stealing her breath, feeding her his own, ensuring her life revolved around his, that he was a part of her, branding her, owning her.

But she could own him, too. She rolled her hips against him, nestling against the hardness between his legs. “I want you, Dane.”

He groaned. “And you’ll have me. But not here. When I get you naked, I don’t want to be disturbed. Don’t want to risk anyone seeing what’s for my eyes alone.”

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go.”

* * *

M
UCH
TO
D
ANE
’
S
displeasure, Kenna insisted on driving her own car. He did his best to change her mind, not wanting to miss a single second with her, but she remained stubborn. Now he motored down the road slowly, even though he longed to hit the gas, ensuring she was always seen in his rearview mirror. He even stopped for every yellow light. No way he’d lose her.

Finally, after what seemed an agonizing eternity, he reached his home. The palatial estate in the middle of thirty acres was low and sprawling and bigger than a single male with zero pets or livestock needed, but he liked his space, and he liked not having neighbors nearby. He parked in front rather than in back, eager to get out and get Kenna out of her car and into his arms.

He led her inside quickly, flipped on the living room light, and eased her down on the couch. He was more than ready to rip off his clothes, then hers, when a feminine voice called from the hallway, “Oh, Day-ayne, I’ve got a surprise for you....”

He stiffened, fighting dread as footsteps pattered.
This isn’t happening.
Then, almost in slow motion, like a villain appearing in a horror movie, Courtney rounded the corner—naked.

With a gasp, Kenna jumped to her feet.

Courtney noticed her and shrieked, running back to the bedroom.

Oh, it’s happening, all right.

“Kenna,” he said. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

She stared up at him for a long while, silent, her expression blank. Then, slowly, she walked to the wet bar and poured herself a drink.

He followed her, willing to tie her down and force her to listen to him. “I don’t know why she’s here or how—”

Splash.

He blinked, wiped a hand down his dripping face, and realized she’d just tossed her drink at him.

“Oh, Dane! You should see your face,” she said with a hearty laugh, shocking him. “And seriously, that was
so
freaking fun. I don’t know whether I should thank you for the opportunity to check another item off my list, or do it again.”