Power Play: A Black & White Collection Story (10 page)

As he pulled off his shirt, she took a deep, steadying breath and leaned forward, ready to touch and enjoy his rock hard abs and soft skin. Surely she could close her mind to everything else and just live in this moment.

“No,” he said, rising quickly. “Not here.”

She was confused until he took her hand, led her to the couch. He lay on his back and gestured for her to climb on. She shook her head. “I don’t think this is such a good idea. We only have five minutes.”

“Fuck the game, Frankie. Come here.”

She narrowed her eyes, wanted to protest. Then she decided she was tired of fighting this, tired of fighting him all the time. For one brief moment in time, she just wanted to let it all go. She straddled his lap, placed her hands flat against his chest and bent down. She’d intended to run her tongue along his chest, but he caught her face between his hands.

“Kiss me,” he demanded.

Her refusal caught in her throat. She couldn’t kiss him. Couldn’t let him feel how much this meant to her.

Before she could find the words, he took the choice away, pulling her face to his. “Fine,” he said, “then I’ll kiss you.”

His lips claimed hers, not with aggression, but with sweetness and passion, mingled together, taking her breath away. His hands maintained their firm grip on her head, twisting and turning her so that he could capture every miniscule part of her lips, her mouth. His tongue invaded, but it was the most charming attack she’d ever experienced.

Her hands roamed his bare chest, touching his skin, wishing her clothing and his pants weren’t still a barrier. He must have read her thoughts as he started unbuttoning her blouse.

He pulled his lips away from hers for a moment. “I need to see you. Touch you.”

She nodded, understanding. They’d had sex on three occasions and they’d never managed to both be undressed at the same time. She needed to feel him, skin to skin, with nothing in between. Quickly, they stripped their clothing off, working in tandem, a true partnership in nudity.

Once they were free of their clothes, he pulled her back on top of him. “Tell me what you want, Frankie. I’ll give it to you.”

He’d give her what she wanted. She realized there was a big difference between wants and needs. Her body needed him. Needed him like she’d never needed another.

But her heart wanted him—desperately. And not in some wicked fantasy way. In a way that was real and true.

Just once, her heart whispered. Just this once let me have him.

“I want you to make love to me.”

She wasn’t sure where the words had come from, but as soon as she spoke them, she knew they were true. It was what she wanted. Him. No games.

He didn’t respond with words. Instead, he reclaimed her lips, kissed her until she felt she would explode from the potency of his mouth on hers. She’d been right to resist this for so long. She knew she’d suffer for this night’s foolishness, but right now, she couldn’t make herself care.

“Just tonight.” She felt like she should tell him, make sure he knew this wouldn’t, couldn’t happen again.

He pulled away and she thought he wanted to protest. His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything, merely nodded and kissed her once more. Soon the kisses gave way to touches and his hands explored every inch of her body, caressing her with a reverence that brought tears to her eyes.

“Please,” she said at last, every nerve in her body screaming for relief.

He reached down, grabbed his pants, rummaging for a condom. She grabbed it from his hands the second he retrieved it, quickly putting it on him.

She sensed he wanted to move, wanted to take control. Before he could act on that thought, she straddled his waist and engulfed him in her body.

He groaned. “Jesus, Frankie. You’re so damn hot. It feels like your burning my cock.”

She grinned. “Want me to stop?”

His hands gripped her hips, his fingers tightening. “Don’t you dare. Come here. I want to kiss you again.”

She didn’t resist. She was addicted to his lips, his mouth, his breath. She bent forward, accepting all that he offered, giving as much as she could bear. He lifted his hips slightly, sinking deeper into her body. She began to move then, forcing her lips away so that she could ride him. With erotic touches and naughty words, he told her how he wanted her to take him. She followed his directions, adding a few flourishes of her own.

Soon, she felt her climax arriving. “Come with me,” she said. “I don’t want to be alone.”

His eyes softened and she knew her words had come out all wrong. “I mean…”

His fingers tightened in her hair, pulling her face closer. “I know what you mean, Frankie.”

He seized control then, twisting them on the couch. On her back now, she felt completely possessed by this man as he began thrusting into her—slowly at first, his movements gathering speed and force until she was crying out beneath him.

Her climax started and she sensed he was close too. In the midst of her orgasm, through the roaring in her ears and the flashes of bright, beautiful white light, she heard him speak. Heard the words that terrified and thrilled her at the same time.

“You aren’t alone, Frankie. You’ll never be alone again.”

Chapter Seven

They dashed into the restaurant on the corner, simply because it was close, and placed their take-out orders. As they waited their food, Reed took a few minutes to try to put the last two days in perspective. Last night had been one of the best nights of his life, but he wasn’t sure the same could be said for Frankie.

As was becoming her habit, she shut down after sex. He wasn’t sure how she was able to change from sexy, affectionate lover to casual acquaintance in the blink of an eye, but she could. Hell, she changed personas the way some people changed underwear. It left him constantly scrambling to keep up. Him. A man who’d never followed anyone’s lead.

After their amazing lovemaking on the couch, she’d stood up and gotten dressed as if they’d done no more than share a cup of coffee. He’d tried several times to bring it up, but she’d shot him down, insisting they needed to get to work on the Wedded Bliss project. Finally, he’d stopped trying. They’d get the presentation out of the way, share their last red hot fantasy and then Ms. Frankie Carlyle was in for a rude awakening because for the first time ever, work had taken a backseat to something else in Reed’s life.

He was in love with her and he didn’t intend to rest until she had his ring on her finger.

“Shit,” he heard her mutter.

He looked over as an older couple approached them. Frankie stiffened beside him.

“Frankie?” he asked.

The look she gave him was a perfect mixture of apprehension and annoyance, but before he could question her, the couple stopped in front of them and she turned to acknowledge them.

“Hi, Mom, Dad. What are you guys doing here?”

Frankie’s parents? Reed perked up, taking in the appearance of the couple who’d managed to produce one of the most dynamic women he’d ever met. They certainly weren’t what he expected. Her mother was dressed very simply, projecting an air of absolute plainness. Her hair was short—combed rather than styled. She wore no make-up, a shapeless navy blue skirt and a basic tan top. Her father was dressed in a dark suit, simple and about twenty years out of style. His hair was slicked back, giving him a stern, formidable look. He also noticed the man didn’t smile when he spotted Frankie.

“It’s Thursday night,” her mother replied as if her response answered everything. Apparently it did, because Frankie nodded.

She looked at him and forced a pleasant smile to her face. To her parents, it might look real, but he could see the strained lines at her brow, around her mouth.

“Thursday is my parents’ night to eat out. They’ve maintained the same routine for years.”

He nodded his understanding as she gestured toward the couple, instigating the introductions, “Reed, these are my parents, Ronald and Georgia Carlyle. Mom, Dad, this is Reed Donovan, my new marketing partner at work.” He bristled at the introduction, wishing she’d said boyfriend instead.

Oh well, plenty of time for that later.

Her mother smiled demurely, while her father’s eyes studied him with interest.

“Are you two here on a date?” Georgia asked.

Frankie quickly shook her head. “No, Mom. We’re working late tonight. Took a break to get some dinner.”

Her father scowled at her response, but said nothing.

“Oh.” Reed could hear from her mother’s tone she was disappointed. He forced back a chuckle. It appeared Georgia and his mother shared the matchmaking streak. His mother despaired of him ever getting married and giving her grandchildren.

Clearly Frankie felt the need to change the subject to something safer. “So how was your dinner? The food here is pretty good, isn’t it?”

Georgia nodded, but it was her father who replied. “The bread was hard. The service was mediocre and your mother hardly touched her steak.”

“Steak?” Frankie asked. “I thought red meat upset your stomach. Why would you order it?”

“I ordered it for her,” her father barked. “She’s eaten steak for years and never had any trouble.”

Mrs. Carlyle shook her head quickly. “I think I must’ve had a touch of the flu the last time I ate it.”

Frankie’s face and the tone of her voice told Reed his lover was quickly losing her temper. “It’s made you sick the last three times you’ve eaten it. Did you read that information I sent you about Irritable Bowel Syndrome?”

Her mother nodded. “Of course, I did, but your father—”

Mr. Carlyle cut off his wife’s comment. “She’s fine.”

Frankie opened her mouth to argue, but Mrs. Carlyle quickly took her daughter’s hand. “Your father’s right. I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with me.”

Frankie’s father looked at him. “Leave it to women to overreact over every little thing.”

Mrs. Carlyle laughed uneasily. “No need to worry. The steak here was just a bit tough. That’s all.”

“Waste of good money,” Mr. Carlyle muttered.

Mrs. Carlyle smiled at Frankie and quickly changed the subject. It seemed to be a talent the mother and daughter shared and Reed wondered how much of their lives they’d spent trying to distract Mr. Carlyle from his anger. “I wish I’d known we were going to run into you, Frannie. I would have brought your birthday present. It’s been sitting on the counter for weeks.”

“Birthday?” Reed asked. Had he missed her birthday?

Frankie looked at him, clearly reading his thoughts. “I celebrated it at a bar about a month ago. Spent the evening with this arrogant, but sort of charming man who bought me a glass of red wine.”

He smiled. Not only had he not missed her birthday, he’d been her gift to herself. “Sounds very nice.” He paused, then the devil prodded him to add, “Frannie.”

Frankie narrowed her eyes in warning when he used her mother’s nickname, and then she turned back to her parents. “I’ve been busy with the new job, Mom. I’m sorry. Things should ease up next week, so I’ll swing by for a visit then.”

Ronald snorted at her reply. “Too busy with work.”

Reed was surprised by the amount of malice laced the man’s words.

“Yeah, Dad. Too busy.”

“Maybe if you put as much energy into dating, you could get married and quit that silly job of yours.” Ronald turned to him and Reed had a strong premonition the next few minutes were about to take an ugly turn. “Don’t you think a thirty-year-old woman should at least be looking toward marriage?”

Reed wasn’t sure how to answer. He certainly wasn’t one to lecture anyone on the institution of marriage. Until he’d met Frankie, he’d resigned himself to thinking it wasn’t for him. He’d been married to his job, committed to making money, being a success. It was a trait he and Frankie shared.

He was also an all-or-nothing kind of guy and he didn’t think it was fair to ask a woman to sign on for a lifetime of eating dinners and spending evenings alone, which was why Frankie was tailor-made for him. She’d be working with him in his ideal future, side by side, as his partner
and
his wife.

“Don’t answer that, Reed.” He wanted to breathe a sigh of relief and take the out she’d provided, but he felt he owed both of them an answer.

“I think everyone is different, Mr. Carlyle. What may have worked for you and your wife may not work for Frankie. When she meets the right guy, when she’s ready to settle down, she will.”

He’d been rather proud of his speech, thinking he’d supported Frankie’s cause against her father. However, Frankie’s face went white with anger and he suddenly wondered what he’d said wrong.

It didn’t matter. Her father harrumphed and her mother bid them both a hasty goodbye. He watched the couple leave and he waited for the onslaught. She didn’t disappoint him.

“Settle down?”

He was confused by the fury lacing her tone until she continued. “And what if I already consider myself settled down? What if I’m living the life I want to be living and I don’t need some asshole man trying to tell me what to do twenty-four seven?”

“I hardly think marriage equates to—”

“I want you to listen to me and I want you to actually hear the words coming out of my mouth. I’m not getting married. Ever. I’m not even looking for a relationship. You and I are colleagues, Reed. That’s it. That’s all it’s ever going to be. Our games—these fantasy nights—are just that and nothing more. Don’t lose sight of that.”

She turned and left. He was about to follow when the man behind the counter called out his name to tell him his food was ready. He turned back, pulled out his wallet and paid. His mind replayed her words until his temple began to throb.

What had just happened? And what the hell was he supposed to do now? For the first time in his life, Reed’s confidence faltered. Shit, it hadn’t just fallen.

It had crashed and burned.

Trudging up the stairs to her apartment, Frankie let herself in, dropping her purse by the door. She’d thoroughly fucked up tonight. Hell, she’d been fucking up consistently for the past month. Seeing her parents reminded her of why she’d avoided the trap of a relationship.

Christ. Reed thought she needed to settle down? What the hell did he think she was doing now? Just biding her time, waiting for Mr. Right to come along and save her from her terrible life? She loved her job. She was proud of all she’d achieved. Screw Reed Donovan. Screw her father. Screw all men.