Surrender Your Heart Page 6

  Did she really not get a clue when she took off my panties a few moments ago? I step into her personal place, close enough for our bodies to touch, initiating the kiss without hesitation or regret. The next moment, my back is against the door and she kisses me back, hard and deep—and her hand is back to where it was before, my body overwhelmed with heated, amazing sensations. I am melting, dissolving into her touch, astonished at the intensity of whatever this is, and I realize that earlier, I had something else on my mind than a quick make-out session against a vertical surface. I mean, what is all that careful seduction worth if in the end, it’s going to be like this? I can’t help it, can’t pretend I haven’t given this a lot of thought even since before she first put her hand underneath my nightgown.

  “Is that okay with you? Is that what you want?” Carter whispers against my ear, her fingers pressing harder, their rhythm perfect and magic. My answer is a moan, and I nearly collapse to the floor, but she holds me up throughout every hot pulsing wave of incredible pleasure. She cups my face in both hands and places a soft kiss on my lips, a gentle smile on her face. I’m sure she’s barely refraining from saying “I told you so”. I could tell her so many factors played into this moment, experience, maybe, but that’s by far not the whole story. I can see how I didn’t even allow myself to be with anyone, because I was so worried about distractions and disappointments—that doesn’t kill the longing for human contact, the kind that goes beyond a friendly hug.

  Then, there’s this little detail I’m almost ashamed to acknowledge, but her way of turning the tables, taking charge, really turned me on, and obviously her taking me here without asking is part of that—isn’t it? I thought sex would clear up something between us, but I might be even more confused than before.

  “Does it matter?” I ask, my voice clearly reflecting my post-orgasmic state. “When did it start to matter to you what I want?”

  “It does. It always has,” Carter says firmly. Her hands are on my arms, and she’s steering me to the bed. “I’m sorry. This wasn’t what I had planned either. You surprised me…I’m not saying it’s your fault. I’m here now, I’m listening to you.”

  “I don’t want to talk, not right now. I want…” You. Even after the fact, it’s a tough admission to make. I’m attracted to her, have been from the first moment. I want this to mean something. I am losing my mind.

  “I know.”

  Carter seems to sense the shift in my mood, and she steps forward to embrace me. “I told you. I want to give you everything you need.”

  She slides the straps of the nightgown from my shoulders, and it falls to the floor, leaving me wearing nothing but the lacy bra. Carter reaches behind me, a swift movement, and it’s gone too. I’m standing in front of her, spell-bound and completely naked, to her gaze and her hands.

  The bed sheets are cool against my back, making me shiver, but only until she’s on top of me. I want to touch her. I have barely formed the intention when she pins my wrists above my head, oh God, I had no idea this would make me so hot, the reality, the memory of us talking about restraints.

  She lets me help her get out of her clothes, and then takes off her bra and panties in quick impatient gestures.

  I almost laugh, but hold back the impulse, knowing I would have to explain myself, but really? After all this planning, the careful execution of what Carter called a nefarious scheme, this is not the elegant consummation of a fantasy that is now ours—this feels more like the impatience of teenagers, like there’s no tomorrow. For us, maybe there isn’t, but the dire thought vanishes quickly when she’s back with me, her passionate kiss and wandering hands inciting me all over again.

  Yeah, maybe she’s really that good. Given the way all my plans have been made to come to a jarring halt, I deserve something in return, don’t I?

  I wonder if she’ll want to use some ties on me tonight—or maybe something else. The possibilities make me breathless with want, the sensation only intensified by feeling her wetness against mine, hot, undeniable. Part of me feels smug and thrilled by the fact I can do this to her.

  I wonder about something else.

  “Can I touch you?”

  “Eventually,” Carter says, anticipation in her tone and smile. She sits back, runs her hands up my thighs, gently parting them. It’s strange to think that only days ago, I was worried about tuition, exams and shifts, the usual, and now…I feel helpless, exposed and so, so hot. She runs a fingertip along the length of my sex, then dips in between swollen lips. My body tenses in answer, welcoming her, wanting her deeper, but instead, she raises her finger to her mouth, licking the tip of it. I haven’t felt like fainting in a while, but I do now.

  “I wanted to taste you from the moment I first saw you in that café, wearing that cute uniform,” she says. “Nick kept going on about how great his chocolate cake was, and I wanted to make everyone get out and take you right there on the table.”

  “What did you want to do to me?” My voice is thick with desire. I might not like myself very much tomorrow, for several reasons, but tonight, I’ll indulge myself, her, abandon all principles and responsibilities if that’s what it takes.

  “Among other things…this.”

  Carter leans down, her hair falling forward. She tucks it back behind her ears and then plunges me into a world of pleasure I have never known before. If I ever experienced anything this good, it’s been too long for me to remember…There’s no before or after anyway, just this moment, Carter undoing me with her lips and tongue, and I don’t need to be tied up to let myself go, to give myself to her. I can’t help the whimper when she slides a finger back into me, pushing my hips against her to make her go deeper, faster, something to resolve this impossible state, but she stills her movements, whispers to me.

  “Relax. Take your time. I’ll get you there.”

  Oh, it’s not like I have any doubts.

  Every heartbeat, every pulse focuses my attention sharply towards my core, the caress of her tongue, the pressure of her fingertips in all the right places, I can’t stand it any longer…You’d think I’d scream with emotions and sensations this overpowering, but when I come, it’s with a series of gasps, shuddering against her.

  She holds me against her while my breathing calms, slowly, and this, us, together, feels so good I have the foolish notion that everything will change. Sure, she made a bad call, but I’m in a forgiving mood, and I’m sure we can start over from here…

  “Welcome home,” I murmur against her chest.

  Carter brushes a hand over my hair, disentangles herself from my embrace and gets up. I watch in disbelief as she picks up her clothes and puts them back on. Suddenly overly aware of my nakedness, I wrap myself in the sheet quickly and get up too, almost falling over my feet.

  “This is not fair!” It’s not rational either, but it happens to be the first thing that comes to mind. “You’re not leaving.”

  “I have work to do.” Carter’s gaze is unapologetic, as always when she thinks she’s right and accepts no further negotiation. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “You crazy bitch.” I’m not in the mood for sugar-coating, aware that this standoff could escalate at any moment, and maybe that’s what I’m going for. Maybe I have to find a way for things to right themselves, make her the guilty, and me the innocent party. Most of all, I can’t believe how much I’d anticipated sleeping next to her.

  The corners of her mouth twitch into a wry smile.

  “In my world, that’s a kind of compliment, so be careful,” Carter says. “Anytime.”

  She walks out and locks the door behind her, and in a sudden fit of drama, I bang my fists against the wooden door until my knuckles hurt. “You can’t leave me like this, damn it!”

  My tears are mostly from anger, at her, at myself, for being this naïve—where did I get the idea she’d be the type to cuddle?

  I’m still standing at the door when I hear the raised voices, but they are too far away for me to make out words
. I’ll learn about it in the morning—or not. I guess I’ve been put in my place regarding what I’m here for, and who has all the power.

  I walk back to the bed and slide under the covers that still smell like us, like her, curling up in a space that feels much bigger than before. I am in a world of trouble.

  Chapter Six

  Carter

  I’ve been called a bitch so often that at some point, I decided to own it, live up to the image. Mind you, the term came from men mostly, and it became liberating not to have to put up a front anymore. I like having the reputation of a ruthless businesswoman. I like being that person if it makes a few of the good old—and new—boys shake in their boots.

  It’s a bit of a downer hearing the same word from my beautiful captive, Penelope, but I’ll get over it. Given the context, I can hardly blame her. At the moment, there are more pressing matters to deal with, all of it before I can even wash my hands.

  This happened sooner than I expected, and it was everything I imagined, but I can’t deal with remembering how hot she was, coming under my fingertips and then, my mouth. I have little regrets about breaking the law, if it’s for the greater good of Penelope, and me.

  “What the hell! I gave you clear instructions!”

  I feel a bit sorry for yelling at Marlene, because I know firsthand how hard it is to resist those doe eyes, and I’m sure Penelope pulled every trick she knows—that doesn’t make the outcome any better.

  “Everything went fine,” Marlene defends giving a razor to a woman who’s my more or less unwilling guest. The one I chose, the one who’s still struggling with that realization…I am sick at imagining the possibilities.

  “Yeah, it did, this time. You’re lucky. Don’t you ever do that again if you want to keep working for me.”

  How did that happen? Marlene is one of my most trusted employees, has been with me for almost two decades. Unfortunately, she doesn’t take any shit from me either.

  “Ms. Elliot might not have fully adjusted yet, but she doesn’t want to kill herself. She wanted to get ready for a romantic evening.”

  “That’s none of your business!” The words are out of my mouth before their revealing nature registers with me. Yes, Marlene knows a bit about what’s going on here, but there’s such a thing as too much information when it comes to employees. None of this concerned her in the first place. “Next time she asks you for anything dangerous, you say no. Don’t get swayed, if you’d like to keep your job. Believe me, I know what I’m doing. Do you understand?”

  Marlene, aware that she overstepped a critical boundary, nods. “I understand, Ms. Forbes. Just one suggestion, if I may…”

  I wait, impatient. I wasn’t lying when I said I still had work to do. There’s a company I’m buying, and while I would have liked to postpone the final deal until after our designated vacation time, it’s not possible. I hear there’s been negotiating with another buyer behind my back which is clear breach of contract. I’m good at being bad, in the right situation. They will regret their lame attempt at going over my head.

  “If you don’t want her to have a razor, why don’t I get her some products?”

  “Yes, why not? Brilliant idea, Marlene. Thank you so much.”

  I think this is a good moment to stalk away and get back to the computer. I’ll deal with her—and Penelope—tomorrow, though there is something oddly comical in this. I have thought of everything, her apartment, her work, the people in her life—everything, except this small detail. Not comical at all to think of what could have happened. It’s silly, I know. I can’t watch her 24/7. I don’t want to invade her privacy so much as to have her watched 24/7, and yet…there are scarves and belts in the closet, and if I had overlooked anything in Penelope’s past life, only I would be to blame. I shake off the chill that’s coming with the thought. So far, things are going as well as can be expected, I guess.

  * * * *

  In the office, I pour a finger of rum into a tumbler—after washing my hands, finally, welcoming the burn.

  She was so sweet.

  You don’t get sweet very often in the cutthroat world that I inhabit, and most of the time, I don’t complain. There are enough women and men in my life who want something from me, sex, money, a deal, I can pick and choose and then move on. Not bad for the girl whose parents thought she wasn’t feminine enough. I’m not sure if they are feeling better these days—I’m not married. Their daughter was a lesbian after all, just like they’d worried, but on the other hand, it’s hard to argue with a Fortune 500 company and their home in the Caribbean. My brother Jimmy might be a gifted artist, but he never managed to make that much money with his music. I consider him a rebel for still not having a real job at his age—it’s kind of adorable. At least he makes enough money to keep his ex- and current wife happy, or so the tabloids say. Janet, my sister had a wedding worthy of a Disney princess, and she actually married real royalty. A guy with a title, not much of a fortune. She sends a card at Christmas.

  Intimidated, wary, jealous, I’ve had all of those thrown at me, from my family, and strangers. I can work with that. It came after the mocking and dismissing, because I couldn’t care less about prom, because I knew I deserved a place at the decision-making table even as the only woman in the firm—something I learned to handle.

  Now, there’s something completely different. Penelope. Sweet, sexy, she’s oblivious to the fact that she has my world teetering on its axis. I’ve bent the law before when necessary, never before broken it this blatantly. I’m fortunate enough to have friends and acquaintances in high places who owe me.

  I set the glass aside and open my emails.

  To be frank, I have little interest in this electronics chain, but talking to partners and attorneys I’ve been advised that it could be a worthy addition to Forbes Inc. I don’t need their okay—that’s mostly window dressing. What I’ll enjoy most is kicking out Marcus Wellington and his posse. Selling his business is a done deal, unavoidable, but I know he’d much rather have his stores go to the other buyer who’s an old friend of his father’s, old money, the same old bullshit. Sexual assault charges brought up against Wellington were dropped last year, not so much because of his innocence, but because he and his lawyer successfully intimidated the women who had filed the charges. Yes, more than one. Threatened with an uncertain future for themselves and their families, one by one recanted.

  I have looked into the cases. I know exactly which employees to keep, and which ones told the women to shut up. I can’t fire each of them personally, but the thought at least is uplifting. It’s too bad I’ll have to leave Penelope alone another time for this, but if she’s not too pissed at me in the morning, I’ll let her go to the pool by herself. I’ll have arrangements to make for the business deal, but maybe afterwards, I can win her over with dinner under the stars.

  If she still wants to touch me, tomorrow I might let her.

  * * * *

  At the breakfast table, Penelope wears a flowered sundress with a white cardigan, and a defiant expression. I’ve given her, and myself, a year. That’s a reasonable time for making her understand this is not a usual courtship. I’ll never harm her, never intended to, but I can’t take any chances. Business aside, I couldn’t possibly stay with her after the first time, a first time that came sooner than each of us expected.

  “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

  She glares at me. “What do you think?”

  Even pouting, she’s adorable, so I’ll let this go. She isn’t ready to do so yet.

  “You didn’t need to yell at Marlene about the freaking razor.”

  So she figured it out.

  “I pay the people who work for me, well. I expect them to be able to follow simple rules.” This is still getting me more emotional than I care to admit.

  “You’re going to fire her?” Penelope asks, anxious.

  “No. Unfortunately, I can’t cook like this.”

  “Oh.” She drinks her coffee, silent for a
moment. I know. The attraction is there, I’ve seen it back in the café when one look made her all flustered and blushing…but even after last night, she still has trouble wrapping her mind around all this. At least, she’s wearing her clothes, didn’t attempt to hold on to her old ones. Baby steps.

  “You always expect the worst of people, don’t you? Is that from experience? What did you think I’d do with that razor other than making myself presentable?”

  Those are many loaded questions for an early morning. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of everything you needed, but the next time, just ask. It’s not that Marlene can’t give you things or make decisions when I’m not here. She should have known better. If you want, I can bring in a cosmetician for you.”

  She frowns, obviously not happy with that solution, or the subject, for that matter.

  “Unless you’d like me to have a Brazilian, I think I’m okay. Not that I plan to. Can we not talk about this?”

  I can’t help the smile, knowing that my diversion worked. “No problem. So…how are you feeling?”

  I study her, wide brown eyes, her full lips, the soft blush to her cheeks. It’s such a cliché, but I wanted her right away. I wasn’t kidding when I told her that last night. I could sense there was something behind her obvious beauty, something untainted, uncompromised, a quality clearly lacking from my own life.

  Maybe we can have a little time to ourselves before I have to return to my desk.

  “Okay, I guess.”

  Now that’s sobering. I raise my eyebrows at her, making her blush even more when she realizes what we’re talking about.

  “What do you want me to say? I guess you didn’t oversell yourself. It was good…until it ended kind of abruptly.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry.” I finally butter my toast. I’m not the type of person who runs on black coffee and a piece of fruit for half of the day. “I had to work…and I’m really sorry. I told you this was a vacation, but I’ll need a few hours for calls and emails today, all the boring stuff.”