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Secret Surrender

Page 7

Riley had moved from the couch to her room, following through with her plan to sleep early.

I’d just finished folding the last garment when my laptop chirped. A window popped up indicating there was a Skype video call from V. Sorenson. I took a seat at my desk and clicked “accept”. Moments later, Vincent’s stunning face appeared on my computer screen. He was thousands of miles away but now right in front of me. I missed his spicy scent but just seeing him still had a strong effect. Sometimes I hated technology for making my life more complicated—emails, social media, always being connected to work—but this time I loved it.

I turned the volume high enough to hear Vincent but not enough to wake up Riley in the next room. She was a heavy sleeper and I doubted even a blow horn would wake her.

Vincent was in a gray dress shirt without a tie and the top button undone. His face had a bit of evening stubble. The ruggedness contrasting with his elegant attire was startlingly attractive. He looked tired from a long day but seemed excited to see me.

I smiled at him. “Hey,” I said cheerily.

“Hey,” he responded with enthusiasm of his own. “Can you hear me? Is the video coming through?”

“Crystal clear. Your handsomeness is transmitting in its full high definition glory. Am I coming through for you?”

He smiled. “Yes, but nothing can compare to the real thing. How are you, Kristen?”

“Good, just finished some laundry. How about you? How’s your trip going?”

“Not bad. Business as usual.” He paused for a moment. “I’ve missed you.”

I blushed. The words weren’t unexpected but it was still surprising to hear them out loud. “I missed you too.”

His dark eyes were scanning my surroundings. “You’ve got a nice bedroom. I like the stuffed animal in the background.”

I laughed. I’d seen it so often, I’d forgotten it was there. I got up from the desk and went to retrieve the stuffed bird from my bed to give Vincent a better look at it. And an explanation for why a grown woman in her mid-twenties had a kid’s toy.

“I also like those shorts,” he said. “I couldn’t agree more.”

I turned back to Vincent. “What do you mean?”

“It says ‘juicy’ on the back.”

“Oh God.” My face heated. “I didn’t have anything else to wear. I got these when I was in high school. A lot of girls wore them at the time and I caved to peer pressure. I should’ve thrown them out.”

He grinned. “I’m glad you didn’t. Suits you well.”

Hoping to move on to a less embarrassing topic, I picked up my bird and brought it back to the desk. “On the other hand, I’m never going to throw this out.”

“Why do you have a plush penguin?”

I squeezed the soft rainbow beak, posing its adorable face for Vincent. “It’s a puffin. It looks like the offspring of a penguin and a parrot if they ever mated. I used to be obsessed with them when I was like five. My parents got me this during a trip to the museum. That was back when I had a better relationship with them. I’m not as into puffins now but this guy still has a lot of sentimental value.”

“I can see why you like it. It’s cute.”

“Well I’m glad you and Mr. Waddles get along.” I wiggled its nubby feet at Vincent. “His approval of you means a lot to me.”

Vincent smiled in a way that was both charming and cute. If only I had a plush version of him to snuggle with on nights when he was away on business.

“Spunky on the outside, soft on the inside. You’re quite the combination.”

He continued as if another thought just occurred to him. “I know I’ve said this before. But thinking about you is making it difficult to concentrate on business. I don’t expect you to understand but it’s hard to focus on work when you’ve got an erection.”

“Well. . . I don’t know what to say.” I really didn’t because I’d never had an erection before but I could at least imagine the dilemma. I offered the first suggestion that came to mind. “Why don’t you just watch porn like a regular guy?”

His brows knotted and his lips frowned. “Wouldn’t work. You make porn look bad.” He opened his mouth to say something further but closed his eyes and sighed deeply instead.

“Something’s bothering you. What’s wrong?” I asked.

His elbow on the desk, he ran a hand through his wavy hair but stopped halfway so that he rested the side of his head in his palm. He looked weary. “I wished we didn’t have sex.”

Nerves shot through my system and my grip on Mr. Waddles tightened. Why would he say such a terrible thing? Was it because I dumped my baggage on him and now he regretted being involved with me?

“What? Why?”

“Cause it made me want you more. I can’t stop thinking about it. You in a blindfold. Your gorgeous body. . . It’s so damn frustrating being so far away from you.”

Relief washed over me like a cold shower in this summer weather. “You scared me for a second there. I thought you were going to say you didn’t like the sex.”

“I don’t like how much I liked it. I’m dangerously close to cutting this trip short to come back to Manhattan. I’m not sure how much longer I can go. I think I might be addicted to you.”

I felt his pain. Over the past two days, I’d constantly thought about him and our multiple sex sessions at his place. It had been distracting—something I welcomed given the drama of my ex lurking in the background; Vincent was a much needed diversion. But most of all, it made me realize how far I’d fallen for him in such a short time. It was frightening and thrilling—knowing he was feeling the same way about me made it less scary.

I had an idea.

“Maybe this will help,” I said as I placed Mr. Waddles on the far end of the desk away from me. I released my hair from its ponytail and let my locks drape around my shoulders. I shook my head to give my hair the voluminous and sexy look I’d seen in commercials. Then I smiled seductively at him.

He straightened in his chair. “You have my attention.”

I undid the top button of my shirt then the next two, enticing him with a view of my black bra beneath and an eyeful of scandalous cleavage. The nurturing side of me wanted to heal his pain.

“Mmmm,” he murmured.

“Like what you see?” I teased. His desire for me always gave me a thrill.

He nodded slowly. “I want to see more.”

I looked down at my chest. My breasts were nearly fully exposed. For some odd reason, I’d thought the ample skin I was already showing would be enough for him. But Vincent wasn’t like any other men; I’d forgotten whose sex drive I was dealing with.

“I’m not sure,” I said, hesitantly.

He smiled wickedly. “Let me see those gorgeous tits.”

Showing cleavage was one thing, exposing full-on nipples was another. I couldn’t help recalling a spate of stories in the media recently about a misbehaving senator sending naked pictures of himself to his mistress and those images getting leaked on the internet. I wasn’t a senator, but I still had a reputation I needed to protect. The bad part of the internet was anything that got on there would be around forever.

I glanced at my door handle. Riley was likely in dream land and even if she wasn’t, my door was still locked. I didn’t know how safe it was on Vincent’s end. “What if someone walks in on you? Or how do I know you’re not recording this? I don’t want my chest all over the internet.”

“I’m in my hotel room right now. No one’s coming in. Trust me, I’m not going to record this but every inch of your beautiful skin is going to be seared into my memory.” His finger touched his temple. “I’m going to keep the image of your luscious breasts all to myself.”

“I don’t know. . . I’m not in the habit of doing internet camera shows. The idea makes me feel a little vulnerable.”

His brows narrowed into sharp lines. I knew that look. It was the same one he got whenever he was in the middle of conducting serious business. He was thinking. Hard.

“Here, I’ll expose myself. We’ll both do it. I’m trusting you not to record this. I have a lot to lose if this gets out.”

I thought about what the headlines would say: Billionaire exposes penis to wealth manager. Cock grows while stock shrinks.

Exposing himself was a huge risk for him, which demonstrated how much he wanted to see me naked. Even for a risk-taker like Vincent, I realized this kind of vulnerability meant a lot.

“Umm. . . okay I guess. You first,” I said, unsure whether he was bluffing or serious. If he didn’t do it, I wouldn’t either.

The corners of his lips curved upward. “A dare? I usually go by ‘ladies first’ but you’ve given me something to work with so I’ll make an exception.”

He aimed the camera down to his lap, where I saw the front of his slacks tented. He was hard already? Just from that small amount of skin I showed him? My belly fluttered at the sight of the bulging fabric. Was he really going to do this?

I watched with bated breath as one of his hands gripped the black belt at his waist while the other tugged on the silver buckle to loosen the tightness. The leather arched into his palm and with a controlled jerk he drew two elegant prongs from their fitted holes. He pulled the tapered end of the belt through the rigid frame of the buckle, the band first being resistant but then sliding easily, yielding to the demand of his fingers. A few more inches, and the belt wrapping his powerfully trim waist was freed. He released the two separated ends and let them hang lazily in his lap. He wasn’t exposed yet but I still felt the familiar tingles of excitement laced with arousal ripple through my body.

I marveled at how such a small gesture could inflame my senses. I wouldn’t have believed it if not for the pulsing between my thighs reminding me how turned on I was becoming.

His hands were working quickly and my mind and body needed time to catch up with each titillating movement.

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