More Than Crave You Read online

  “It was.” I can’t lie about that.

  “Then please don’t regret it.”

  I can’t promise her I won’t. Instead, I hover above her, stare into her earnest face. We’re so close. If I lean in, I could kiss her…like I’m dying to now. I don’t, though. “What happens next?”

  She shrugs. “Whatever we want.”

  Nia should think twice before saying that. Even now I’m realizing that I should get off of her, put my clothes on, and try to forget this monumental breach in our professional relationship. The other part of me is pretty sure I can’t shove that genie back in its bottle. And if I know her door is always open… Well, guilt aside, I’m always going to want her.

  Because sex with Nia turned me inside out, and no amount of logic is going to change that fact.

  “Can we really work together after this?” My hand tightens on her hip. My cock is still hard inside her. “Truly?”

  She continues to caress me as if we don’t have a care in the world. “Why not? We’re both adults. We’re responsible. We can separate private from professional.”

  Logically, that sounds correct. Realistically? I don’t know. I’ve never tried to focus on work while the person I crave on a base, naked level is knee-deep in all my professional affairs.

  For now, I nod. I’ll go with her assumption unless and until it proves untrue. “I hope you’re right.”

  “I am. We’ll just…work it out. We have to.” Her face softens, and she rises to brush a kiss on my lips. “But this can’t be the only time we’re together.”

  Despite all my reservations, I don’t hesitate. “You’re right. It can’t.”

  Though it should be, and I damn well know it.

  Nia lets out a breath as if my agreement is a relief. Doesn’t she realize tonight completely shook my world?

  Maybe not. Maybe she has amazing, spontaneous sex with other guys all the time.

  I hate that fucking voice in my head. I hate even more that it might be right.

  “Do you want to come to my place for the night?” she whispers hopefully.

  Absolutely. That’s my first thought. Then I stop myself. “I have a mountain of work so I can be ready for Monday.”

  But sifting through the latest buyout offer isn’t the only reason I decline. I need time to digest what just happened. Nothing about tonight fits my concept of sex. Nia gave me so much more than I expected—or was prepared for. I also need space to reconcile the fact that, in the blink of an eye, Becca is no longer the only woman I’ve ever shared passion with. And that it’s not my late wife I’m pining for now.

  For a reason I can’t comprehend, that fact hits me hard. I withdraw from Nia’s soft body with a grimace. Immediately, I feel colder. Alone.

  Beneath me, she gasps. “Towel on the vanity. Shit.”

  When she points a few feet away, I jump up and grab it, then hand it to her. “A mess? I’m sorry. It’s been…since Becca.”

  “I figured.” She begins to clean herself up.

  I take the towel back from her grasp and handle the task. After all, I made the mess. And it gives me another reason to stay close, touch her.

  “Evan, I-I need to tell you something,” she says suddenly. I’m surprised her voice is shaking. “I just realized we didn’t use protection, and I’m, um…not on birth control.”

  “What?”

  Somewhere in the back of my head, I hear myself snapping the question. But of all the things I imagined Nia would say next, that bomb never occurred to me at all. It should have. Neither of us were mindful enough to think about a condom. But if she has the kind of active sex life I’m imagining she does, how has she not been pregnant twenty times over?

  “I can’t,” she explains. “The pill gives me migraines. IUD gave me awful mood swings. I usually insist on condoms, but everything with us happened so fast.”

  That’s an understatement. I touched Nia and utterly lost my head. I stopped thinking about anything except how fucking good she made me feel. And Becca was on the pill for years before she decided she wanted a baby. Neither one of us ever had another sexual partner, so I’ve never used a condom in my life. I didn’t pause long enough to realize how different everything would be with another woman.

  Of course, when I think about it, that fact is so obvious I feel like a fool. But I try to keep calm and collected and hide my death grip on the towel as I wipe myself dry. After losing Becca and our baby in an instant, I can’t think about the possibility of another pregnancy.

  I haven’t recovered from losing the last one.

  Finally, I tuck my cock back in my pants and rearrange my shirt. Nia doesn’t move, just lies sprawled across the futon, breasts moving softly with each breath, still naked as she studies my expression.

  “I should have said something sooner.”

  Her face is so full of apology I can’t possibly think she allowed me to have sex with her unprotected on purpose. But it’s not okay. “I’m equally to blame. I should have asked.”

  “I’m early in my cycle. It should be okay.”

  But there’s no guarantee. That’s utterly fucking terrifying.

  I swallow back my tension. “If you’re ready to go, I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “Are you sure I can’t persuade you to come home with me? French toast in the morning…”

  Her offer is tempting, and she tries to give me a flirty smile. But I see the uncertainty on her face. I’m probably a complete bastard for leaving her now, but my head is bubbling like a volcano. I’ve always been even-tempered, not prone to being swayed by any particular mood. The disquiet unsettling me now makes me wonder if somehow Nia has changed me.

  “I can’t.” I also stifle a promise to take her up on the offer another time. I don’t know if or how Nia and I will make us work.

  If you can’t deal and you break it off with her, then she becomes angry, disillusioned, and bitter, what then?

  Nothing good.

  “All right.” Now her voice sounds clipped, a little hurt, as she wraps her robe around her body and covers herself from nearly head to toe again.

  “Nia, what happened tonight can’t change anything at work. No one can know.”

  She looks away and crosses her arms over her chest. “Sure.”

  I’ve hurt her. Son of a bitch. Whatever this is between us is barely ten minutes old, and I’ve already screwed up. Maybe I’m not wired for meaningful human interaction. Maybe the only woman who could ever understand me is cold and buried and gone forever.

  “I’m sorry, but keeping what happened a secret makes sense—for both of us,” I murmur, then realize if I keep talking, I’ll only say more things that only upset her. “We’ll talk more on Monday, all right? I’ll see you then.”

  “See you.”

  As soon as Nia nods, I tell myself to turn around and leave. I shouldn’t linger or give her false hope that I might stay the night after all or give her any reason to think I’m romantically inclined. But I can’t make myself leave when she’s distressed, especially when everything that’s wrong is my fault.

  Before I can tell myself not to, I take her by the shoulders, tug her to her feet, and pull her against me. Just like before, the minute I touch her, I don’t care whether being with her is right or wrong. I simply need. The yearning on her face says it’s the same for her.

  She meets me halfway as I dip my head and kiss her slowly, tenderly, so unlike the way I assailed her mouth when I entered the room. It feels different to take my time, to savor her scent and flavor, to be kissing her not in passion but affection. But it doesn’t take long before my head swims, my heart thuds, and my cock goes stone hard.

  Fuck, she’s potent, and I have a feeling that if I’m not careful, she could become a distraction. A weakness. An addiction.

  Somehow, I manage to dredge up the will to stop enjoying her mouth, press a kiss to her forehead, and step back. “Bye.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Monday, November 6

&
nbsp; “Morning. I brought donuts.” Sebastian tosses a box of a dozen on the conference table in my office and parks himself in a chair. “Dig in, and let’s roll through these numbers.”

  It’s just after seven a.m. I came in early. I often do because there’s always plenty of work. But today was a no-brainer. Why stay home when sleep is elusive and productivity is nonexistent?

  The reason for my restlessness will be here in less than an hour. Nia and I haven’t spoken since Saturday night. I’m torn. On the one hand, I must maintain status quo at the office. There’s too much happening with Stratus for us to lose focus. On the other hand, I spent yesterday missing her in a way I don’t understand. My thoughts are jumbled. I have urges where she’s concerned.

  I don’t like this. I’m never conflicted. Why is everything different?

  With Becca, I never felt this sort of internal chaos. She liked me; I liked her. We bonded because we had both suffered through terrible home lives and crappy foster families. Diana saved me at twelve, but I plucked Becca out of her living hell as soon as I legally could. She was grateful and took care of everything not related to my burgeoning business. I enjoyed her company. Sex was nice. Life was good.

  Nothing about being inside Nia could be termed nice. What we did wasn’t merely pleasant. It was raw, compelling, unforgettable…

  And confusing as hell.

  Yesterday, I resisted comparisons, but Becca is the only other sexual partner I’ve had. Isn’t it natural to wonder why being with one woman is vastly different than performing roughly the same act with another? The only conclusion I can draw is that Becca had been providing me regular relief with her hand before we spoke our vows. Nia ended a terrible months-long celibacy, broken only by masturbation that had become both regular and dull. I was simply pent up. Surely if I had sex with her today, I wouldn’t feel that same blood-churning, heart-pounding, gotta-have-it-now urgency.

  “Evan?”

  I whirl around and face my CFO, trying to look as if I’ve been completely attentive. “Yeah. The numbers. Let’s do it.”

  “I already was. You didn’t hear a word I said.” He sighs. “It’s none of my business, but what happened between you and Nia after I left on Saturday night?”

  “You’re right; it’s none of your business.”

  Bas is my oldest friend. I couldn’t lie to him if I tried. First, he reads me too well. Second, I won’t deceive him. But I have no problem telling him to butt out.

  “Oh, my god. You fucked her.”

  I remain absolutely mute for a long moment, gritting my teeth. I can’t tell whether he’s more shocked that I finally took his advice about moving on from Becca or that I did it with my assistant.

  “Friday’s offer was an increase of fifteen million cash and another thirty in Colossus stock options when their IPO goes public next summer.” I change the subject. “It’s more lucrative than their former offer and closer to market value.”

  “Not going to talk to me, huh?”

  “About Nia? No. About this offer, sure. All day long. My big complaint is that we can’t possibly know the price of their stock once the IPO goes public. So the valuation of the offer could suffer significantly following the initial offering.”

  “You don’t believe that. Douglas Lund has almost tripled the size of their organization since he took over five years ago. The man is financially brilliant, and there’s no way he would suddenly steer that ship in the wrong direction. My guess is the value of that stock will go up at least another twenty-five percent in the first six months.”

  Bas is probably right but… “If it doesn’t?”

  “You’re still walking away with almost five hundred million in cash and other stocks that bring the value of the deal up to a billion dollars. All you have to do is sign a few papers and stay on as COO for two years. Then you’ll be thirty and filthy rich, and you can spend the rest of your life doing whatever the fuck you want. Take it.”

  Everything he says is valid. I’ve had similar thoughts. All totaled, it’s the sort of money that means not only would I never have to work another day in my life, but neither will my kids, my grandkids, or their children. I would, of course. I’ve never been an idle man, and I don’t like people who lack goals or fail to embrace challenges. So I’ll definitely find another business to build and succeed at—and I’ll have the luxury of taking my time. Most people only dream of this financial independence. I certainly never fathomed having this much money as a poor kid in foster care. And I’d not only achieve my dream of making a billion by age forty, I’d beat it by a decade.

  “Unfortunately, the deal, as is, still isn’t right.”

  He gives me an exasperated sigh. “What’s your hesitation? Is it because you built Stratus from the ground up? Hell, I joined you barely three months after you started, so I’m as attached to it as you are. If I were a selfish bastard, I’d talk you out of accepting the deal because I’ll probably be downsized once the Colossus people take over. But I’m okay with that because this is best for you. I know you’re sentimentally attached—”

  “I’m not a sentimental man.”

  “Not about much. I understand why this might seem different, but saying yes is the right move. You’re never going to get another offer like this, buddy.”

  “I disagree.”

  “You think your technology will remain wave-of-the-future long enough that another behemoth firm will decide you have the best data storage solution for individuals and corporations alike and be willing to pay you an obscene amount of money for your infrastructure and proprietary technology?”

  “I don’t think there will be another buyer; you’re right about that. I’m saying if I take this particular offer, I’ll be leaving money on the table.”

  “Oh, I get it. You want to make Lund bleed because you loathe him. Be careful with that…”

  Admittedly, he’s an egotistical, middle-aged prick who treated me like a snot-nosed kid when we first met. Since then, he’s continued the trend, all but patting me on the head and rubbing me the wrong way. I don’t mind sticking it to him, but I wouldn’t do it if I thought I’d be screwing myself in the process.

  “I’ve done business with people I disliked in the past. I’m not here to make friends; I’m here to negotiate the best deal possible. But as you just pointed out, if I sell, you might be laid off. Any of Stratus’s existing employees are at risk.” I employ nearly seven hundred people now. “They deserve whatever protection I can negotiate to compensate them for their years of loyalty and hard work.”

  Bas gapes at me. “Wanting more money out of the deal, I understand. You may be right that Lund can cough up more. But you can’t possibly be willing to blow a billion dollars to coddle your existing workers. C’mon.”

  “I’m not,” I assure. “But if I can ensure their futures for a bit longer—and yeah, stick it to Lund—I will.”

  “Just don’t worry too hard. Everyone who works for you is smart. They understand the corporate game. If they’re unhappy or they see the writing on the wall after the sale, they’ll start looking for other jobs. Negotiate whatever terms you can, say adios, then laugh all the way to the bank.”

  “Don’t be an ass, Shaw.” Nia strolls in, wearing a figure-hugging dress in a teal shade that makes my breath catch, beige heels, and a smile.

  Holy shit. After one glance, I’m beyond eager to peel every stitch off her, toss her onto the table, and shove my way between her legs.

  So much for my theory about being sated and disinterested.

  She looks different this morning than she did on Saturday night—without the inch of black eyeliner, false lashes, stark red lips, and all the glitter. Today, her makeup is subtle. Browns accentuate her eyes. Her cheeks have a hint of a flush. The lights in the room catch the soft glow of her lustrous skin. Her lips are a sheer berry shade that makes me desperate to kiss them.

  How did I look at her for three fucking years and see an assistant, not a woman? A lover? No idea. I only know
I can’t do it anymore.

  Bas flashes Nia a huge smile. “Wright, you know that’s part of my charm.”

  They’ve been on a last-name basis in the office forever. They’re usually friendly. Today, I don’t like the speculative way Bas eyes her.

  “Ha! What charm?” She raises a brow at him. “Think about this from the employees’ point of view. Take Perkins, who’s been counting the days until his retirement in three years. He’s going to rely on that pension. What happens if Evan sells out and Colossus changes the benefits structure? Will he still be able to spend his golden years in the Outer Banks fishing or will he eventually have to go back to work? And what happens to the employees on tuition assistance? The ones who rely on our health plan? Hell, what happens to the workers they lay off? Will all of them find new jobs they like half as well? Will any of them?”

  And what about Nia herself? I’m her first employer out of college. She’s scarcely worked for anyone but me. What if she ends up assisting someone who doesn’t treat her with respect? Or what if she finds herself working for another executive who’s attracted to her, he touches her, and they…

  Fuck.

  Unacceptable. If I sell, I’m taking her with me. Well, provided she’ll follow. Right now, I don’t know. She hasn’t acknowledged me since she entered the room. Is she going to act like I wasn’t inside her, as deep as a man can get, less than thirty-six hours ago?

  “Good morning, Nia.”

  “Morning,” she says absently as she sets her purse and coffee cup on the table, then slides into the chair between Bas and me.

  That’s it? Is she going to look at me at all? “Do you have specific suggestions?”

  “To protect the employees? Make Colossus honor your benefits for three years. Tell them they can’t lay off anyone for eighteen months. Force them to provide education assistance and placement services for any Stratus employees they release. You know the drill.”

  “It’s a stop-gap measure. Nothing will protect them indefinitely after I’m gone.” I don’t know why I’m playing devil’s advocate with her when I agree those are concessions worth obtaining. Am I that desperate to make her talk to me?