Passionate Game (Kimani Hotties) (15 page)

BOOK: Passionate Game (Kimani Hotties)
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Chapter 15

“D
id you just use me?” Grant asked playfully as he stroked her back.

She nodded. Her head turned to the side. Her eyes were closed, revealing nothing.

But he knew her body so intimately that he knew she was hiding something.

He propped up on his elbow.

“Come on. Talk to me.”

“No. I’d like to remember this.”

“You say that as if we’re never going to do this ever again.” He kissed each of her shoulder blades. Her skin was deliciously warm beneath his lips.

Already he was hard and wanted to continue from where they had left off.

“Why are you so kind?” She turned onto her back.

He couldn’t help soaking in the sight of her nipples perked and ready for the tasting...or maybe she was just as aroused as he.

Only one way to find out.

He slid his hand along her body down to her soft mound. His fingers played and discovered the telltale moisture that he was delighted to discover.

Her phone buzzed. He ignored it, continuing with his exploration. She slid away from him, reaching for the phone. Grant frowned. They’d never let anything interrupt their intimate time. Maybe she had to take the call.

“Will you be around later?” she asked, after a brief, cryptic one-sided conversation on the phone.

He nodded, not trying to hide his irritation.

“I’ve got to take care of something. But I promise that I’ll let you know what’s up.”

Grant gave another terse nod. He felt shut out that she wouldn’t or couldn’t share whatever was bothering her.

His mother had urged him to trust. In other words, he should allow one hundred percent access to his heart. He remembered her words:
it’s what you do when you’re in love.

* * *

Grant set down the latest business innovator award given to Benson Technologies on the bookshelf that housed several others. In the company’s short history, significant milestones charted its national success. Now he looked forward to making its global footprint, first in Korea, then China and Japan. All the hard work, long hours, and cancelled dinners with Tamara weren’t in vain. Even her minidocumentary had been received with positive reviews.

The bad had a way of also galloping headlong at him. Competitors didn’t play nice and they had no problem tripping him up in any way possible.

The new game and game system were scheduled for launch the next day. Wednesday, hump day, seemed like the perfect time to shake up the gaming world. The marketing team and the advertisers had worked around the clock to make it happen. And yet he would be holding his breath until he got the public’s reaction. He knew that the guys held his same level of excitement for the game. But only after the gamers gave a thumbs-up would he relax and breathe again.

The time changed on the desk clock. Almost midnight, and he wasn’t even close to going home. He rubbed his chin, his fingers scratching the stubble of new growth. His eyes felt heavy and swollen.

His phone rang. His staff knew that he was accessible twenty-four hours, every day of the week. But when his head of product security was calling at this late hour, something was up.

“Grant here.”

“Sir, we have a problem.”

“I’m in the office. Come on up.”

A few minutes later, his head of product security sat across from him. His grim demeanor set the tone that whatever he was about to tell him would not end well. Grant motioned with his hand for him to start.

“I have a source at Trident News Media. They plan to preempt your launch tomorrow with their own report slamming the new product and system.”

“That’s a pain in the butt, but not detrimental.” Competitors always caught the scent of a launch in its final days.

“They are getting the information from a competitor, who is also going to put out a negative report on you.”

Grant shrugged. “Annoying, but we’ll be fine.”

“Since all of this happened fairly quickly, I did a quick sweep of the computers.”

Grant nodded. His staff was aware that nothing on their computers was off-limits to security surveillance.

“I’m still working on where the source is. But this problem has crossed departments. In the mix are the interns.”

“Come again?” Grant didn’t expect that revelation.

“Not all, but definitely a couple have been using the computers to communicate with someone. Nothing definitive, but highly suspect given the language.”

Grant took the paperwork that was handed to him. He scanned the report. Disappointment mounted as he saw the names of the guys for whom he’d gone to bat.

The last few pages showed copies of emails. The name on the email exchange pierced through his defenses, precise and deadly.

“The head of the academy is involved.”

Grant read the email. Clearly Tamara knew about the breach and was actively covering it up. He could accept her need to protect her students. She’d been protecting them from day one. But what he didn’t expect was that she hadn’t told him.

Struggling to keep his emotions in check, he continued to listen to the man. There wasn’t much information, but he would spare nothing to root out any and all traitors in his company, and in his life.

Grant got into his car and headed home. His temper rose as each minute ticked by. If it hadn’t been past midnight, he’d be at the academy or Tamara’s home, demanding an explanation. There was so much wrong and unfair in this mess that his rage bounced from her betrayal to the interns’ betrayal and her trickery all along. Most of all, his heart had been used. He would sit at home until the sun came up and then take matters into his own hands.

He pulled into his driveway and slammed on his brakes. Tamara’s car was parked in her usual spot. He looked up at the house, noting that a few lights were on, which was not unusual. His pulse pounded now that he didn’t have to wait for the confrontation.

As he entered the house, he listened for any signs that she was awake. All remained quiet on the first floor. He walked up the stairs slowly and entered his bedroom. The TV was on, but the sound was muted. She was asleep and curled up fully clothed on the bed. Her hair, loose with soft curls, fanned the pillow. He pushed back the instinct to kiss her awake.

She stirred when he dropped his keys on the bureau. “Hey,” she said sleepily. She opened her arms for his embrace.

“You knew that the guys spoke with a reporter,” Grant said. He wanted to snap her awake and out of that dreamy, sexy mood.

“What?” She blinked.

“I don’t have time to play twenty questions with you. So I’m going to lay it on the line. You used me. I can’t believe that you’d sink to using your students like pawns. You fed me all that B.S. about helping the troubled youth. You played me like a fool. Now, I know you don’t need money. So what do you get out of it? What do you get out of screwing over me and the company?”

“You’ve got it all wrong.” She reached out to him, but he brushed her hand away. Touching her now would open the wound deeper, reminding him how much he’d shared with her.

“Did you or did you not know that the guys were talking to a reporter?”

“I took care of it. I squashed it last week.”

Grant couldn’t believe his ears. “Last week? You knew since last week?”

“That’s why I left you that day. But I took care of everything. Then we got busy. I would’ve told you today.”

“These emails are from today.” He threw the papers at her.

“I was checking in with the guys because I knew the launch would be any day. I wanted to make sure they hadn’t been approached again.”

“You know what, just stop. Stop!” Grant motioned for her to stand. “Put on your shoes.” She complied. “I don’t want to sit here and try to sort out the lies from the truth. I don’t want to try and figure out if you ever felt one ounce of love for me, the way I felt about you. No strings attached—our freaking motto. That means you’re free to go.” During his speech, he escorted her to the front door. She didn’t cry. She didn’t beg him. She quietly walked to the door and stepped out.

“You’re wrong, like I was once. I’m not Vanessa. I’m not playing games at the expense of your company, or at the expense of your heart.”

* * *

“Tamara, can I come in?” Becky poked her head through the door.

Tamara hurriedly wiped away the tears before waving her in.

“I was checking on you.”

“You don’t have to whisper. I’m fine. I’m up and it’s a brand-new day.”

“Oh?”

“Why do you look surprised? Don’t you think that I should move on with my life? I have an academy to run. I have loyal employees and good friends.” She reached out and gripped Becky’s hand. “So why should I feel sad?” Her heart ached as if to remind her.

“Oh.”

“Is that all you have to say? Well, I’ll talk for you. Why don’t we have a party?”

“Party?” Becky’s brow knitted.

Tamara nodded. “I’m celebrating my new lease on life.”

“You’re not overcoming some terminal illness.”

“What’s the problem?”

“You’re acting too over the top.” Becky sat on the edge of the bed. “Frankly, that’s my job.”

“It’s the new me.”

“Sounds a bit fake.”

“Get used to it.” Tamara attempted to shoo her out of the room. “I’ve got things to do.”

“Like what?” Becky hadn’t budged.

“I’m repainting my room.”

Becky looked around the room and then at her. “Did you go through some religious awakening? Where’s the Tammy I know and love?”

“The Tammy you knew and loved tried living by your rules—giving up everything for true love...or G-Dragon, if the two are the same.”

“Ouch. Didn’t know you could be so sarcastic in the early morning. I’m a seeker, Tammy. I jump into things with both feet.”

“And land on your face.”

“Then I pick up, heal and try it again.”

“Hmm. I think my heart will have a callus or two. And I’m fine with that.”

“Now you’re going to be a cold, hard witch. Doesn’t suit you.”

Tamara shrugged. “Keeping it real.”

Becky left the room.

Tamara pulled the stack of color samples from her bedside. Her walls would be blasted with a bold color. Some of the furniture would be traded for more modern pieces. And when she was done with her room and office, then she’d move on to reinventing herself. She planned on a new hairdo, changes to her wardrobe and a few new pairs of shoes. Over time, she planned to wipe away all lasting effects of Grant Benson. Too bad she couldn’t do a mind makeover, but she’d take on one challenge at a time. Whatever it took to erase the longing in her heart, she was willing to do. Her pride stung. Her body craved. Her thoughts ran traitorous messages that she should make a move to reconciliation.

“You’re full of crap!” Becky slammed open her bedroom door with such force it bounced off the wall.

Tamara saw the fire blazing in Becky’s eyes.

“Do you hear me?”

Tamara shrugged. “I think the neighbors heard you. What’s your problem?”

“That you’re wimping out. You’re willing to let Grant go.”

Tamara shook her hand fiercely. “I didn’t
let
him go. He tossed me out like trash.”

“He didn’t know everything. And now he’s apologized. The living room looks like a floral shop, and I’m having sneezing fits.” Becky had her hands clasped as if she could plead her case.

“Why should his apology wipe away all that he said?” Tamara’s voice faded, choked behind the swell of emotion caught in her chest and throat.

“He hurt you. I get that.”

“No!” Tamara shouted. “You don’t get it. You and your romantic ideals are willing to let men trample over your emotions. Then you bounce up and give them a second chance. I tried it, and it’s not for me.”

Tamara rushed to her bathroom for tissues. The tears stubbornly leaked from her eyes. She didn’t want to shed any more tears over Grant.

“You’re wrong,” Becky said. “I do know what a broken heart feels like. I do know how living with regrets can break your spirit. No, I’m not always practical, but it’s who I am and want to be.”

Tamara emerged from the bathroom rubbing her nose. “You’re right. We both deserve happiness, right? I love you for who you are. I promise not to take my anger out on you.”

“Then take it out on me.” Grant stepped into the bedroom.

“Oh...” Tamara couldn’t get one thought to stream in a coherent fashion in her mind. She could only stare at the man who filled her doorway with his height.

As she gathered her thoughts to respond, she took in his appearance. His countenance shocked her. He appeared drawn, tired around the eyes. His shoulders drooped as if a burden sat on his shoulders, and his chiseled look had turned to a skinny look.

“And why are you here?” The question erupted in a breathless gush, laced with more curiosity than anger.

“I want a second chance.” Grant looked over to Becky. “I wanted so much to take back what I said in anger. Becky called me—”

“Becky?” Tamara turned an accusatory gaze on her friend. The momentary buzz of something tender between them evaporated.

“I did try to contact you, several times. You wouldn’t respond.”

“You’re darn right I wouldn’t.” Now her anger was stoked again. Tamara bit down on her rage to hold on to a shred of pride.

“I will leave you two to talk.” Becky hugged Tamara’s stiff body. “Give him a chance. I’m telling you that he’s the one,” she whispered into her ear.

Tamara waited until Becky had left, closing the door behind her. Then she sat in the nearby chair, farthest from where Grant stood.

“I will continue to apologize, but I want to open my heart to you.” He took a deep breath. “Open it in a way that I’ve never done. Ever.”

She remained still while her pulse pounded powerful percussive beats, as if setting her anger to its own music.

“My company was all I had in my heart. Everything revolved around that passion. I protect it like any guardian would with a ward.”

Tamara heard the sincerity and knew that his passion matched what she felt about her academy.

“Then you entered my life. Not just you, but ten young men. You came with an energy that was thrilling, intoxicating and sometimes frightening. I had never met anyone who could take ownership of me.” His fist hit his chest. His dark eyes blazed their message from across the room.

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