Driven

CHAPTER 5

I’m dragging big time. I’m in the last hour of my shift at The House, and the long hours of the past couple of days have caught up with me. The boys were a handful today and it seemed that the chaos moved steadily through each child at various parts of the day.

Kellen, my co-counselor, has the boys outside and is playing tag with them. I can hear their laughter and squeals through the open windows.

I’m in the kitchen getting everything together for dinner for the next shift when the house phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Oh, good! You’re still there.” I can sense relief tinged with excitement through the phone.

“Just barely,” I laugh. “I have about fifteen minutes left. What can I do for you, Teddy?”

“I know you’re probably exhausted, but is it possible for you stop by the office on the way home?”

It’s the last thing I want to do as much as I love him. I just want to go home, crawl into bed, and sleep until the next day. “Um, okay. Sure. Is something wrong?”

“Just the opposite! I think we found the solution to rest of the funding for the new facilities.” Enthusiasm is evident in his voice. “I’ll tell you all about it when you get here. We’re just hammering out all of the details right now.”

“Wow! Are you serious?” My hopes start to rise. Even with the charity event and the numerous other donations we have already received, we are still shy of our goal by several million dollars. “I—I will be there as soon as I can, depending on traffic.”

I hang up the phone, excitement bubbling. All my hard work over the past two years to get the approvals, the board’s backing, the plans, the funding—it all might finally come to fruition and become a reality.

I finish with the dinner preparations so all that the next shift has to do is put it in the oven. I grab my purse and overnight bag and start to gather my things. I glance at my cell phone in my purse, and begrudgingly decide to check my email. Maybe I can tackle a few phone calls from them while I am in traffic.

I scan my inbox and notice one I’d received earlier in the day from Donavan. I contemplate just deleting it, but curiosity gets the best of me, and I open it up.

To: Rylee Thomas

From: Ace

Subject: Dexterous Fingers

__________________________

Rylee—

You’ve left me no choice. Your lack of response has left me to take matters into my own hands.

You remember how those felt, don’t you?

—Ace

Arrogant ass. I delete the email. What’s he going to do? I’m even more indifferent to him now that I know about his and Bailey’s tryst in the dressing room. Or at least I am trying to be. Come to think about it, they probably fit each other perfectly. Manwhore and maneater.

I smile at the thought as I finish collecting my things and say goodbye to the troops.

Traffic is unusually light as I drive toward the office. I take this is a sign that good things are going to happen. It’s a beautiful, sunny California day, unusually warm for the ending of January. What I would give to grab a towel, head to the beach and lay there, letting the sun’s warmth rejuvenate me.

In no time at all, I pull into the parking lot of Corporate Cares. I walk quickly up to the building’s lobby, checking my reflection in the mirrored windows. I have on my favorite blue jeans that sit low on my waist and a snug, red V-neck t-shirt. Luckily I had an extra one in my bag because I don’t think Teddy would enjoy my original one that’s now splattered with Ricky’s vomit. I fuss with my hair a moment, pulling the clip from it, letting my curls fall down my back.

After a short elevator ride, where I’m able to touch up my lip-gloss and pinch my cheeks for color, I arrive on the floor of the main office. I walk past my office, nod to several people and exchange pleasantries on my way to Teddy’s receptionist. I note that the shutters on the conference room windows are closed and absently wonder what meeting is taking place in there.

“Hi, Sandy.”

“Hey, Rylee. I’ll let him know you’re here. He’s expecting you.”

I smile. “Thanks.” I walk toward the wall of windows that extends throughout the office and watch the line of cars of people heading home on the freeway. The ants go marching one by one.

“That was quick!” I turn to face my boss, a broad grin on his face. “I can’t wait to catch you up to speed.”

“I can’t wait to hear what’s going on,” I say as I follow him into his office.

I sit down across from him in the black leather chair, happy to be sitting and off my feet.

Teddy sits across from me, unable to contain his enthusiasm. “I got a call earlier today and have been in a meeting all afternoon hammering out a deal. Get this,” he emotes as he leans toward me, placing his hands on his desk, “CD Enterprises has come forward wanting to put up half of the remaining cash for the facilities as well as raise the remainder of the money by getting other companies to match or sponsor them.” His words come out in a rush of air, excitement in his eyes.

I process his words, trying to formulate a coherent thought. I can’t believe this is really happening. “What? How? Wow!” I laugh, caught up in Teddy’s whirlwind.

“I am still fine-tuning the finishing details of it right now. Colton’s in the conference room right now.” He motions with his hand toward the hallway, “I’ll bring you in there in a second to reintroduce you.”

“We’ve met?”

“Yes, I introduced you to him on Saturday at the benefit.”

“You introduced me to a lot of people at the benefit,” I tell him laughing, although I don’t remember the name Colton. “So many I couldn’t keep their names and faces straight. Let’s hope I remember what conversation I had with him so I don’t look like an ass.”

He laughs at me, the reassuring sound booming off the walls of his office. “I’m sure you’ll be fine! Anyway, this could be it, kid! All your hard work will finally come to fruition!”

“This is so great, Teddy!” Relief seeps into me. We’d been told earlier in the week that without the complete funding, the project might possibly be delayed by another eight months to a year.

“Almost too good to be true, really.” He shakes his head as if he is still trying to believe this is really happening. “I have to tell you though, Ry, I’m gonna have to depend on you to help me with this. They want a dedicated person from our office to work side by side with theirs to make this happen, and they requested you.”

I nod my head despite my eyes narrowing as I try to figure out why or how the company knows me. It doesn’t matter. What matters is getting the funding. “Sure, I’ll do anything. You know that.” I put my hand up to my chest, covering my heart. “I can’t believe it! Whatever you need, I’ll do to get this funding—to keep this ball rolling.”

“That’s my girl! I knew I could count on you!” He rises from his desk. “C’mon, I can’t wait for you and Colton to reacquaint and go over the fine print on the agreement.”

I follow him down the hallway, a little insecure in my attire. I feel underdressed for a business meeting, but if Teddy doesn’t care, neither should I.

Teddy enters the conference room ahead of me announcing, “Here she is, Colton.”

I turn the corner, entering the doorway and come to a dead stop. Donavan is sitting in a chair at the other end of the conference table, a stack of papers on the table in front of him. His arms are crossed casually over his chest and his biceps pull noticeably at the sleeves of his polo shirt. His eyes meet mine and his mouth spreads into a slow, smug smile.

What the hell? I stop in the doorway looking at Teddy and back to Donavan. “I—I don’t under—understand?” I stammer.

The appalled look on Teddy’s face tells me that I’ve made a serious blunder in my reaction. “Rylee?” He questions as he looks at Donavan quickly, making sure I’ve not offended him, and then back at me, a warning look on his face. “Rylee, what are you talking about? This is Colton Donavan, among other things, the CEO of CD Enterprises—I introduced you to him the other night?”

All at once, with these words, my world turns and tilts on its axis. My head is reeling from the fact that the man across from me—the man who reduced me to a puddle of sensation the other night—is none other than Colton Donavan. The Colton Donavan—hot and upcoming racecar driver extraordinaire, son of a mega-Hollywood-movie director, and the serial philanderer who gives the tabloids constant fodder for their gossip columns.

The Colton Donavan who left me with salacious dreams and a carnal, unrequited craving since last Saturday. Fuck me!

I can’t believe that I didn’t put it together sooner. I knew he seemed familiar when I met him, but in light of my actions, I realize I wasn’t thinking rationally either. I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around this. All of the air has been punched out of my lungs.

My head swivels from Teddy to Dona-er-Colton and back to Teddy. From the way Teddy is staring at me, the look on my face must be quite unpleasant. I look down, take a deep breath, and try to compose myself and quiet the emotions rioting in my head. I can’t screw up this donation regardless of my own feelings—there is too much at stake if I do.

“Um—I apologize,” I say softly, “I just—I thought your name was Donavan.” I walk further into the room, gaining confidence, telling myself I can do this. “I misunderstood when we met the other night … ” The quick flash of Colton’s grin in mention to the other night stops me and transports me to the here and now.

You can do this, I repeat to myself like a mantra. I refuse to let him know that he can affect me so easily.

I hold my head up and walk with purpose to where he sits, holding out my hand, plastering a smile to my face. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Donavan.”

I can hear the deep breath Teddy has been holding—afraid my reaction has possibly hampered this deal—release from his chest. The tension in his face ebbs.

“Colton, please,” Donavan says as he unfolds himself gracefully from his chair and rises, taking my hand in his, holding it a beat longer than necessary. “Nice to see you again too,” he states, a spark flashing through the emerald of his eyes.

“Please, let’s all sit,” Teddy says, enthusiasm returned. We oblige him and he looks at Colton. “Colton, I’ll let you fill Rylee in on your company’s proposal.”

“I’d be glad to, Teddy.” Colton says professionally, all business, as he shifts his chair to face me, placing a packet of paper in front of me. “CD Enterprises is invested in giving back to our community. On a yearly basis, my team and I choose an organization, and devote time, connections, and funds to create awareness for their cause. After unexpectedly attending your function last weekend in my mother’s place when she fell ill, I found the premise behind your organization to be inspiring.”

I observe him while he continues on with facts and figures of past organizations that CD Enterprises has supported. I’m having a hard time rationalizing that this professional, put-together man is the same person who reduced me to tremors and whimpers. He is delivering his presentation with an understated confidence and an overwhelming passion.

This is the type of man I usually fall for. All business. Black and white, no grey area. Knowledgeable and passionate. This is what I find sexy. Not the arrogant, self-serving bastard from the other night full of reckless and uninhibited actions. Thank goodness I know the truth so I don’t find myself falling for this facade in front of me.

At least this is what I’m telling myself when I hear my name pass from his lips.

“What?” I ask as I shake myself from my thoughts.

“Do you have any questions thus far?” Colton asks me, cocking his head to the side as he regards me pensively. The humor lighting up his eyes tells me he knows exactly what I’m thinking about—him in particular.

“First of all, let me say that I hope your mother is feeling better,” I state, letting my manners override my contempt for him. When he nods, I continue, “What exactly does CD Enterprises do, Mr. Donavan?” I ask.

“My mother is doing better, thank you. As for CDE, the company’s primary function is ownership and management of a race team. My race team,” he says exuding pride. “Among other things, our biggest current venture is a cutting edge technology that will help increase the safety quotient for drivers. It is currently patent pending.”

“Hmmmm,” I contemplate trying to figure out how this can all tie in, “and how exactly are you going to tie a race car or team, per se, into raising funds for orphaned kids and Corporate Cares?” I am back in business mode now, my intellect unaffected by his charm. For the most part. I’m trying to feel out what else is going on though because Colton’s quick flashes of smile resemble the ones he gave me at the charity event. My subconscious tells me there’s a catch here.

Once bitten, twice shy.

“Thank you for the segue,” he says. “On Monday, I brought your organization to my team’s attention. After some research, discussions, and brainstorming, we created the following proposal.” He flips the packet on the desk in front of me to the next page and looks at me, pleasure softening his hard features as he announces, “CD Enterprises proposes that up front, we donate one and a half million dollars to Corporate Cares.”

Holy shit! I try to stifle the words from tumbling out of my mouth. Pride is evident in his eyes as he watches me pensively, quietly gauging my reaction before continuing.

“In addition to the immediate funds, we plan to devote a portion of my car’s graphics in the upcoming season to promote your cause or mission, if you will.” He sees the confusion and questions forming from the expression on my face and puts his hand up to halt me so he can finish. “We plan on using this advertising spot to entice other companies and race teams to add to the sponsorship. My team will get them to commit to paying a set dollar amount per lap my car completes or a blanket sponsorship.”

I widen my eyes in disbelief; this could bring in a staggering amount of money for the company. I glance over to Teddy, who is so excited he is fidgeting in his chair, a huge grin on his face. I look back to Colton and my eyes meet his, emerald to amethyst, warring between gratitude and confusion. Why us? Why our company?

He smiles softly at me as if knows what I’m thinking and is acknowledging my dilemma. Accepting the donation means I have to accept his date. He continues, “We’re ironing out the details as to whether we offer the sponsorship per race or over the whole season. My team in working on that as we speak, seeing as we only have a little under three months until the first race to get as many corporate sponsors as possible.”

“Isn’t that unbelievable?” Teddy bellows from beside me.

I turn to him and smile sincerely before turning back to face Colton. “It’s very generous on you and your company’s behalf; I’m just a little baffled as to why us. Why Corporate Cares? What’s the connection?”

The corners of his mouth turn up, his elbows propped and fingers steepled on the desk in front of his chin. “Let’s just say that you can be very persuasive, Ms. Thomas.” He holds my stare as I inhale a sharp breath of air. “I think I’ll enjoy working with someone as passionate and,” he looks away, finding the word, before bringing his eyes back to mine, “responsive as I found you to be on Saturday night.” He keeps his face impassive although his eyes are anything but as his tongue darts out to lick his lower lip.

Despite the blood draining from my head at his words, I can feel the flush spread over my cheeks and down my neck. He senses that I get his insinuation for the humor in his eyes is unmistakable. The corners of his eyes crinkle to express his amusement. I squirm under his gaze wishing to be anywhere but here at this moment.

Like in his bed, under him, with his fingers dancing across my skin and his lips possessing mine. What the fuck? It’s bad enough he’s in my face, now he’s corrupting my thoughts. This is not good. Definitely not good.

I suppress my anger at the nerve of Colton. I can’t believe he’s just said this. Is referring to my indiscretion in front of my boss really that necessary? How dare he come in my office and provoke me. Remind me of something I’m not proud of. Something I’m not going to forget anytime soon.

“Responsive,” Teddy says, rolling the word over his tongue in thought, “That is a great way to describe my Rylee here!” He pats me on the back and pride fills his voice for he is completely oblivious to the concealed message that Colton is rather audaciously sending me. “Always going above and beyond.”

Colton shifts his eyes to Teddy, who is unaware to the unspoken sexual tension in the room. “It is, indeed. And a very hard quality to find in someone,” he nods, agreeing with Teddy. “I watched her in action on Saturday night and was quite impressed.”

I’ve had enough of this, yet I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s gotten the rise out of me I know he was hoping to with his comments. I don’t want to work with this man, but let’s face it, Corporate Cares has no other option to make all my blood, sweat, and tears over the past two years come to fruition. He’s stepping up to the plate, even if it is some misconstrued, vindictive way of getting back at me for not wanting him or his wanton ways.

I have to think of this collaboration as a means to end. My boys and the many others who can benefit deserve this new facility. I just don’t realize how much this statement, a means to an end, will become my mantra once I realize the fine print of the agreement.

“So Mr. Donavan—”

“Colton, please,” he reiterates.

“Colton, I understand the premise,” I state primly, wanting to get this conversation back on track, “What exactly is my involvement in this whole collaboration?”

“Well, Ms. Thomas, I won’t need much from you from a business standpoint for I have a team that is very experienced in this type of thing. Obviously though, I’ll need you to be the point of contact for their questions and other miscellaneous things.”

It is the miscellaneous other things he has in mind that worries me. “So why—”

Colton holds up a hand to stop me again, and I am getting rather annoyed at this habit of his. “As I discussed with Teddy, the contract between our companies for the donation is contingent on several factors.” He pauses, squaring up his papers on the table before him. He looks up, his attention focused solely on me. “For the next several months and into the season, I will need a representative of Corporate Cares with me on numerous occasions.”

He stops as I purse my lips, my eyes enlarging as I hope my assumptions are incorrect. “Me?” I question already knowing the answer.

“Yes. You.” He mouths. I watch his eyes narrow as I lick my lips for all of the sudden it is rather hot in this conference room. His lips part fractionally as he watches me, and I have to shake the inappropriate thoughts regarding their adept skill out of my head as he continues on in his professional tone. “In conjunction with the announcement of our joining forces, there will be several events—some locally, some out of town—black tie affairs, press junkets, et cetera,” he says, casually waving his fingers in the air in a motion of nonchalance, “that I will need you to escort me to.”

“What?” I stand up, pushing my chair back with force and look back and forth from Colton to Teddy in bewilderment. How dare he? I tell him no to a date, no to going beyond second base backstage, and he schemes up a way to tie me to him with a contract? What an immature prick! His ego must really be bruised from my rejection.

I’m dumbfounded. No way. This is not happening. Words I’d love to say to him, to call him, run through my head as I seethe with anger.

“Is there something the matter, Rylee?” Teddy questions, breaking through my haze of frustration. “I think it’s a brilliant idea.” I turn my head to him, opening my mouth to respond him but nothing comes out. “If Colton’s willing to use his name, his connections, and popularity by standing beside you at a press filled event to get the word out about Corporate Cares, then—”

“Why not take advantage of it?” Colton finishes for him, a smug smile gracing his face.

I’m starting to feel light-headed, my head spinning from the turn of events. From the only conclusion I can draw, a situation that Colton has designed and mandated just to get his way. I place my hand on the table to brace myself as I slowly sink into the chair, my eyes focusing on an imaginary spot on the papers in front of me.

“Ry? You okay?” Teddy asks concerned.

“Huh?” I raise my head up to meet his empathetic eyes.

“You look a little flushed. Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Yes.” I answer taking a deep breath. “I’m just—it was a long shift. That’s all,” I conclude, gathering myself. It’s a means to an end, I remind myself. “Sorry,” I apologize to both men. “I’m just overwhelmed that the new project is going to be a reality.” Colton sits silently, analyzing me. I shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

“Look, Rylee,” Teddy addresses me, “I know you have a lot on your plate right now and this is just adding to it, but it’s so close now we can taste it. There is no one I’d rather have be the face of this organization right now. You’re the one, kiddo.”

His high praise warms me despite the panic I feel at being trapped. Being forced into a situation that I know will be beneficial for Corporate Cares but no doubt devastating for me.

Teddy glances at his watch and reaches over to pat my hand, “I have a conference call in five minutes.” He rises from his seat as does Colton. “I trust that I can leave you two in here to fine tune the remaining details.”

He reaches his hand out to Colton sealing the agreement with a handshake. “Thank you, Colton, for your unexpected generosity. You have no idea how many lives you are helping to change with this gift.”

An unexplained darkness flickers across Colton’s face. “I understand more than most people might think,” he expresses without explaining further before releasing Teddy’s hand. “Thank you for your warm reception to the idea. My lawyer will be contacting you in the morning to draw up the paperwork.”

With that Teddy nods his head and exits the conference room. I stand watching the empty doorway, my back toward Colton as I contemplate my next move.

I’m overwhelmed by his generosity. At his attempt to make my dreams come true, so why can I not feel gratitude toward him? Why do I just want to turn around and throttle him? I mull it over quickly, knowing that I hate having my hand forced in anything. It’s not that I have to be in control—well, maybe just a little bit. But at least I want to be the one making the choices where I’m concerned. Not treated like some compliant woman who submits without question to decisions she is forced to follow.

Why does he irritate me so much? Is it because every time I look at his lips or watch his fingers rub over his jaw, my body tightens in anticipation of how they felt on me? Or is it because I can hear his rasp of a voice in my dreams telling me how much he wants me? Shit! My life was perfectly fine until last weekend. And then I meet him, and now I’m a flustered mess.

I shouldn’t care that he was making out and doing God knows what with Bailey, but I do. I’m embarrassed that he probably thinks I let any guy I meet put his hands on me. I’m irritated that I know the only reason for his pursuit is because I’m not falling for his smooth lines and eloquent bullshit. I’m confused why a man who is like a Pied Piper to women much prettier, sexier, everything than me, is even glancing twice in my direction.

My life is not some Hollywood romance movie where boring girl meets famous boy and they fall madly in love together. I’m not naïve enough to believe that this is going to happen to me.

And then to further confuse things is my feelings for Max. My commitment to him and my culpability. The feeling of guilt as to why, despite my expressed love for him, I never felt as alive in all my times with him as I did in the few moments I’ve had with Colton. How can I feel so vibrant with someone I barely know when I didn’t with the man I loved?

I sigh loudly, my body attuned to the proximity of his.

He chuckles, fueling my irritation as I turn to face him. He is leaning back in his chair, an ankle resting on the opposing knee, his arms causally resting on the armrests. We stare at each other, observing and scrutinizing each other for the first time without bystanders. His eyes lazily wander the length of my body, hesitating at my cleavage. I watch his smile widen in what I can assume is an appreciation of the feminine form in general, not just mine, before they travel down the rest of my curves.

His beauty really is magnificent, although I’m sure he would disagree with my term. Thick, dark lashes that are a stark contrast to their translucent color frame his green eyes. His strong nose has a slight curve to its line, where at some point it has been broken or damaged. The imperfection in an otherwise perfect face adds to his overwhelming sex appeal. I take in his full lips, the top one slightly thinner than the lower, the darkened stubble that shadows his face, and the pulse that beats steadily under the curve of his jaw. I have the sudden urge to kiss him right there and nuzzle into him, to feel the pulse of this vibrant man beneath my lips. To be enveloped in his clean, earthy scent.

I shake my head, trying to bring some sense to myself. He quirks his eyebrows and waits for me to make the first move. We stare for several moments as we measure each other. I finally break the silence. “Is this what you call taking matters in to your own hands?”

“What’s the matter? Can’t handle the temptation, Ryles?” He flashes a wicked, arrogant grin at me, and as much as I want to roll my eyes at him, the temptation before me is all I can think about.

“Hardly,” I snort.

He shrugs indifferently. “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do, Ry,” he says. “You left me no choice.”

“No choice? Really?” I scoff throwing my hands up in disgust. “What are you, fifteen years old throwing a tantrum because you didn’t get your way?”

“You owe me a date.”

“All this for a frickin’ date, Ace? Or is it because I denied your sexual ministrations after I came to my senses?” Ugh, he is so frustrating!

“Oh, you would’ve come all right,” he rebuts sardonically, raising an eyebrow, “and from what I recall, your senses? Those were strewn all over the backstage floor.”

Smartass! How can he get me so fuming mad when it takes so much more to get me to this point with other people?

“So because I said no, you offer up tons of money and bind me with a contract through my work? Through my boss? Forcing me to have to spend time with you? Money in exchange for a date? I’m not a whore, Colton.” I rant, waltzing to the window trying to diffuse some of my angst. “Especially not yours!”

I can hear him shuffling behind me as he rises and walks toward the window. He looks at me through his reflection in the glass window and holds my stare. My body vibrates from his nearness.

“Let’s get something straight,” he growls at me. “First of all, I have my own reasons for donating the money that have absolutely nothing to do with you. Nothing! Second, I don’t ever pay for dates, Rylee. Ever. I have more class than that.” I can feel his fury roll off him in waves.

“You paid for a date with me,” I retort.

“Charity. Auction. Does. Not. Equal. Escort. Service.” He snarls at me, taking a step closer, but never breaking our reflective stare. “Lastly,” he seethes, grabbing hold of my arm to emphasize his point, “I don’t ever want to hear your refer to yourself as a whore again.”

We stand in silence as his words settle around us. Why the hell does he care what I call myself? He has no claim over me. I know better than to provoke when someone is angry, but I can’t help myself. For some reason I want to push his buttons. If I’m going to be forced to do something, then I might as well say my piece.

“Then why the contract? The events that I’m required to be your escort for.” I yank my arm out of his grip. “Sounds like your ego is bruised because I won’t succumb to your dazzling charm, so you need to tie me to you to prove to yourself that you still have that magic Colton touch. That you haven’t lost it—”

“I didn’t say anything about bondage,” he smirks, cutting me off. “But if that’s your thing, Rylee, I’d be more than happy to oblige. I can teach you the ropes.”

I shake my head in disbelief; the meaning of his words as they sink in has blood rushing to my cheeks, before I can meet his eyes in the glass again. “I’m ignoring your last comment,” I say dryly, trying to recall what my point was since he has scattered my thoughts so cleverly. Um—where was I? Oh! “Your ego’s bruised because I won’t fall helplessly at your feet and become your compliant sexual plaything, so you come to my work—take the one thing that I really want, the one thing that I’ve been working toward for over two years—and you serve it up to me on a platter.”

“And the problem with that is …?”

“The problem is that you offer it to me with terms that can only logically be explained as self-satisfying for you …” I falter because I realize I’m rambling now. And at some point I’m afraid that if I keep talking, private thoughts may tumble out—thoughts about him. And if I slip, then … he’ll know I think about him more than I should.

Colton sidles up next to me, leaning his shoulder on the glass, staring at my profile. Our silence extends for several moments, my anxiety ratcheting from his quiet scrutiny.

When he speaks, his voice is demandingly soft, “Why won’t you go out on the date with me?”

Whoa, change of subject! A sliver of a laugh escapes my mouth from nerves. I keep my face averted from his, watching the world outside. “For what reason? You and I come from different worlds, Colton, that have different rules. You want a date so you can add another to the many notches in your bedpost. You said you wanted to fuck me to get me out of your system, and move on,” I say, reiterating his threat. In my periphery, I see him blanche at my words. “You may be used to women declaring their love for you and dropping their panties at clever lines such as that but not this one.”

Colton starts to speak. I know he’s going to drop a witty one liner about how I’ll have no problem dropping mine for him. Using one of his own tactics, I stop him before he can interrupt by holding my hand up. “My time with you was a momentary indiscretion on my part. One that will never happen again.” I turn my face to look Colton in the eyes. “I’m not that kind of girl, Ace.”

His regards me, the muscle in his jaw pulsing. He leans into me, the coarseness of his voice making his words resonate their truth. “You know that deep down, a tiny part of that proper, respectable woman you are, wants to visit that reckless, sexy, uninhibited place inside you that’s begging to get out. A place I can undoubtedly help you find.”

My eyes blaze at him while I try and reject the truth behind his words. He watches my internal struggle until I turn from him and walk back toward the conference table. I don’t want him to see the despair on my eyes from acknowledging the truth to his words. “You play dirty, Colton.”

“And your point is?” He retorts turning and leaning his backside against the glass, the lopsided smile flashing momentarily. “Sometimes you have to play dirty to get what you want.”

“And what exactly is it that you want?” I ask, crossing my arms across my chest as an invisible means of protection against him. As if anything really could.

Colton pushes off the wall and stalks toward me like a lion about to pounce on his prey. He stops in front of me, closer than necessary, and reaches out, using a finger to lift my chin up so that my eyes meet his. “You,” he states simply.

I feel as if all of the air has been vacuumed out of the room for with that simple word; I can’t breathe. Incredulity and willingness flood me momentarily as I accept his answer. The warmth is fleeting as I realize that this is how he does it. This is how he gets so many notches on his bedpost. He makes you feel like you’re the only one on his radar. He’s good. He’s really good. But I’m not going to fall for it.

I walk away from him, creating some distance so that I can think clearly. “So why a contract? What are trying to achieve?” I toss over my shoulder as I circle the conference room table. When I’m across the table from him, I turn to face him. “Are you going to threaten my job if I don’t fuck you?”

“No,” A wry smile turns up the corners of his mouth, “but there’s always that option.”

“Well, why don’t we just save us both the time and effort and get it over with,” I rebuff, exhausted by this game we’re playing. “Then we can move on to what really matters. Hell, we can even use the conference table if you’re that desperate.”

“We could,” he says laughing out loud, a sincere smile on his face. He presses both hands on the table, testing its stability. “It’s sturdy enough,” he shrugs, “although it’s not exactly what I had in mind.” His eyes express the lascivious thoughts he’s left unspoken. “And believe me, sweetheart, I’m far from desperate.”

His look sends shivers down my spine. I try to change tactics, as obviously the avenue I’ve taken is not working to deter him. “We both know you don’t need an escort to these functions. Why not have one of your girlfriends escort you?” I continue moving, knowing that if I stand still, I risk the chance of coming into contact with him. And the pull he has over my body is too strong to resist his touch. And if he touches me, then I think my resolve will crumble. “I’m sure that you have a bevy of beauties waiting for you to snap your fingers.”

“I don’t do the girlfriend thing,” he deadpans, stopping my momentum.

“Oh, I see. The casual fucking thing is more your style then?” I see anger flash in his eyes before he reins it in, covering it with a diminutive smirk. “I guess I was right to not expect too much from you.”

“Why tie myself to just one woman when there are so many out there vying for my attention?” he goads, trying to push more of my buttons.

“Do you actually believe your own bullshit lines?” My God, the man is relentless and exasperating at the same time. He just flashes me a smarmy smile and folds his arms across his chest. I try to not focus on the play of muscles beneath his shirt with the motion. Try not to imagine what he looks like with his shirt off. “You sure are full of yourself, aren’t you, Ace?”

He cocks his head and looks at me. “I can arrange that it be you who’s full of me instead, if you’d like?”

I stop mid-motion at his words. Regardless of how forward and crass his comment is, all of the muscles south of my waist clench with a furl of desire. I can feel the flush of heat creep up my cheeks, and I stare at a non-existent spot on the wall for a moment hoping he doesn’t notice. He chuckles softly at my reaction and my eyes flash up to meet his, my expression belying how dumbstruck I am at his words. It’s only when I stare at him incredulously for a few moments, my mouth opening and closing trying to form words to berate him on his arrogance that I see the crack in his game. A leisurely, humor filled smile graces his lips, causing the lines around his eyes to crinkle.

“C’mon,” he teases, taking step closer to me. “You walked right into that one. I couldn’t resist.”

I know the feeling. I just stare at him, shaking my head. “Okay,” I concede. “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just say that. But seriously, why don’t you do the girlfriend thing?”

He shrugs casually. “Not my thing. I don’t like strings attaching me to anything with permanence. Relationships equal drama.”

A guy with commitment issues, like that’s something new.

“So I was right?” I mutter more to myself than to him, astounded at his brutal honesty.

“About what?” He asks angling his head to the side as he approaches me slowly. My heart beats faster for the tone of his voice and the aura emanating from him has changed. I can sense raw desire as he nears. The danger. My body clenches in anticipation while my brain tells me to retreat quickly.

“What I told you on Saturday—you do like to just fuck ’em and chuck ’em.” My voice is quiet for the temerity behind my words has faded with every step closer he gets to me.

“I told you once I don’t take kindly to insults. You just did it again. For that alone you deserve to be taken over my knee,” his voice rings low with the unexpected threat that has my thighs clenching in expectant desire, and I’m not a girl into that type of thing. And yet that type of thing with Colton, his hands on me, possessing me, pushing me to ride that fine line bordering between pleasure and pain—arouses me beyond coherence.

I part my lips as he comes within inches of mine. My body is attuned to him. His scent. The intake of his breath. My back arches in reflex as he lifts a hand to my cheek. “It sucks, doesn’t it?” he asks as he trails a finger along my jaw line, stopping, then brushing against my bottom lip.

“What does?” I sigh softly as his finger leaves my skin.

“When you have to stick to your guns out of principal rather than giving into the temptation right in front of you,” he whispers, turning the tables on me. “There is no shame, Rylee, in letting your body have what it craves.”

We stand, inches from each other, letting the weight of his words settle in my psyche. I know he is right. My body’s deepening ache tells me so. That I want exactly what he is offering.

“It’s hard to deny it, sweetheart, when it’s written all over your body.”

I jerk back from him as if I’ve been bitten. His words fuel my ire and irritate me all at once. “No! I—”

“Shhh,” he murmurs stepping back toward me, pressing a finger to my lips, his eyes ablaze with salacious intensity. “Just know, Rylee, the best sex you will ever have … will be with me.” He says in a low, hypnotizing voice that seems to knock all of the air from my lungs and reason from my usually sensible head.

I jump back, needing space from his carnal words and unending arrogance. He’s so forward, so cocksure it’s almost unattractive. Almost. The man can definitely talk a good game. Too bad I’ll never know if it’s true or not, if for no other reason than to give his oversized ego a lesson.

“I’ll comply with the damn agreement, Colton.” I huff out. “For my boys. For the many kids to come.” I stalk toward the table, to collect my things. “Not for you. Or your stupid machinations behind it.” I square the papers up rather forcefully on the table, the paper hitting wood the only sound in the room. I look up, my steely eyes pinning his. “I will not sleep with you, Ace.”

“Yes, you will.” He smiles smugly at me.

Despite the vicious bang his words spark between my legs, I manage a single laugh. “Don’t even think for a single minute—”

“Colton!” A sexy voice purrs at the door to the conference room, interrupting me midsentence.

I snap my head up to see the svelte Bailey, smiling seductively, all wide eyes and batting eyelashes. The insecurities I have with regard to my sensuality rise to the surface as I swallow loudly, looking to see Colton’s reaction. My eyes meet his quickly because despite the interruption, his eyes have never left mine. I am unsure what to make of this. He purses his lips, the unresolved issues left between us hanging in the silence.

All of the sudden, I’m not feeling well and want desperately to escape from this room. From this man. From witnessing the familiarity between Bailey and Colton. From being jealous despite expressing that I don’t want anything like that with him.

Oblivious to the tension, Bailey sashays into the room, heading toward Colton, finger twirling her perfectly straight, perfectly bottle-dyed auburn hair.

Regret flashes through Colton’s eyes as he glances toward her and smiles a warm hello, ever the consummate gentleman. I turn abruptly to leave, knocking into my chair so that it scrapes loudly against the hardwood floor.

“I didn’t realize you’d snapped your fingers,” I mutter as I try again to get around my chair.

From behind me, Colton releases a hearty, sincere laugh at my comment that despite my frustration with him causes me to smile. As I exit the room, I hear him call my name. I keep walking, wanting to further myself from the undressing with the eyes I’m sure will be occurring momentarily.

With my lack of response, he yells out the doorway to me, “This is by no means over, Rylee.”

I continue without even responding, walk right past my office, and straight to the elevator doors. I ignore Stella’s call of my name, the blinking light indicating messages on my phone, and have luck when the elevator door opens as I approach. I need fresh air to clear my head right now, and this office, which is consumed by his presence at the moment, is not helping me.

I am a confident woman who is sure of myself and not afraid to speak up, so why do I feel like one of those blubbering girls I can’t stand? Why is it Colton reduces me to a mass of hormones, angry one minute and wanting his lips on mine the next?

I sag against the wall of the elevator in frustration. He gets me so worked up. So angry. I can’t figure out what I want to do more, punch him or sleep with him.