Power (The Keatyn Chronicles Book 9) (7 page)

“I thought you already had one?”

“We do. Here onsite. This is a different role. We do fundraising events all over the world and have been contracting planners in each location. We’d like to have someone in-house to be in charge of all those events.”

“So it would be for Moon Wish?”

“Yes. Meaning you could live anywhere in the world you wanted and still do the job.”

“Wow. That would be amazing. Why don’t you do it?”

“I’m doing it right now and it’s too much with everything that goes on here. Not only are we a working vineyard, we have a restaurant, a wine tasting room, and a store. And we host about ten events a week.” She gives me a hug. “I’ll get out of your hair and let you get to work. Text me if you need anything or if you hear from Riley.”

“I will,” I say, grabbing my phone and holding it up.
 

The second she leaves the room, I check to see if I have a message from Riley.
 

I don’t.

Captive Films — Santa Monica

VANESSA

After Keatyn dismisses us, I march down to Dawson’s office. He’s slowly following behind me.
 

Once inside his office, he slides closer. “That kiss in the board room was hot.”

“You smell like Vegas; a mixture of alcohol, stale cigars, and puke. You need a shower.”

He gives me a naughty grin, puts his nose next to my neck and sniffs me. “You smell too. I think you need to shower with me.”

“I smell like expensive perfume. And, in case you didn’t notice, we’re in the middle of a crisis, Dawson. I don’t have time for a shower. I have to be back in the boardroom shortly.”

He runs his hand up the back of my neck and into my hair. “Fine,” he says. “I’ll shower. You watch.”

“I’m not going to stay here and watch you shower,” I say, as I sit myself on an ottoman that happens to have a perfect view of the all glass shower. “We have way too much to do.”

He starts stripping off his clothes and I forget all about work.

He smirks at me, knowing I can’t take my eyes off his gorgeous body. When he slowly walks past me, naked, just to put his dirty clothes in the laundry bag, I know he’s messing with me.
 

“I am, however, going to stay here and give you updates
while
you shower. That will be a good use of our time.”

He gives me a nod, steps into the shower, then turns on the water and leans back, letting the water rush over his face.
 

I try to focus on my phone, which keeps vibrating with emails. “They’ve secured a location for the—” Dawson squeezes soap into his hand and lathers it all over himself, his hand sliding down washboard abs and then further down between his legs. I bite my lip. “
—
Purity Party. Guess where it’s going to be at?”

“Where?”

“An old church that is now an event space.”

“That fits the theme,” he says, turning to face me and giving me a full view of—everything. “Who thought of that?”

“Tyler, actually. He went to a party there last year.”

“He seems like he runs the place,” Dawson laughs.

“He pretty much does. Even though his official title is executive assistant, everyone here knows the pecking order is Keatyn, Riley, Dallas, and then Tyler.”

“He’s interviewing assistants for me,” he says, his arm muscles flexing as he lathers up his hair. When he leans back to rinse out the shampoo, his hips jut forward, giving me a clear view of his dick.
 

I lower my head and close my eyes. I need to focus on work or I’m going to be stripping off my clothes and joining him.
 

The sound of the shower being turned off makes me look up.
 

Dawson is drying off.
 

I touch my suit pocket, knowing I’ve been waiting for the right moment all morning.

He steps out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist.
 

I stand up and quickly close the gap between us, my lips meeting his forcefully. He sets me on the bathroom counter, pushes up my skirt, and pulls off my underwear as I slip my hand under the towel and stroke him.
 

 
He’s completely hard and ready.
 

I reach into my pocket and pull out a condom. “Put this on,” I say into his lips. “So it won’t be messy.”

I can feel his grin against my lips before he shoves his tongue deeper into my mouth, practically devouring me. I hear paper tear and then he’s inside me.
 

Filling the need that has been burning since I studied the photos and realized he didn’t sleep with anyone.
 

I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, hanging on tightly as I thrust against him with equal force.

 
My orgasm is sudden and practically explosive. I pull him in tighter and call out his name while he continues to slam me against the counter until he comes. His ability to make me feel nearly animalistic still delights and shocks me.

And as hot as it is, all the emotions I feel for him are still there, quite possibly burning brighter than before.
 

Because, now, I know I can trust him.
 

Captive Films — Santa Monica

DAWSON

“It’s nearly six,” I tell Vanessa, who is still tapping away on her computer. “We’ve been working non-stop. It’s time for a break.” I move behind her and start massaging her neck.
 

“Oh, wow. That feels amazing,” she purrs. “So, let's talk about Vegas.”

“Haven't we talked about it enough already?” I say with a chuckle.
 

“Not about you specifically,” she says.

“Well me, specifically, loves that you brought a condom. Did you plan on attacking me in my office?”

“Maybe I thought about it. But that’s not what I mean.”

“I know the night was a bit of a cluster, but it was fun. I haven't let loose like that in—well, a long time. I think the last time I was drunk was the night we got pregnant with Harlow. Because when you have children, you have to be responsible. Like what if I was drinking and one of the kids needed to go to the hospital?”

“You call an ambulance?” she says flatly. I can’t tell if she’s kidding or making fun of me.
 

“You know what I mean.”

“I do. I'm just teasing you a little. I love that your children are so important to you. But back to Vegas.”

“Vanessa, why don't you just tell me what you want to know. It would be a lot easier than me trying to guess.”

She smiles but I see the pain in her eyes.

“Actually, I think I know. You want to know why I didn't sleep with anyone.”

“We don't have any kind of an agreement about that. You could have,” she says, but it’s what she isn’t saying that gets to me. I know her ex cheated on her, but I get the feeling it was more than that. I remember her saying she wore red lipstick to feel confident. Whatever he did to her, rocked her to the core, and that’s something I understand.

I pull her into my arms. “I'm smart enough not to fuck up a good thing.”

“Is that what we are? A
good
thing?” she replies bitchily.

“You seem upset by my word choice. What is your definition of a good thing?”

“For most men that would mean sex with no strings.”

“I guess I’m not most men then. I meant that I think we're good together, and not just in bed.” I cup her face tenderly. I want her to know she’s more—way more—than just sex to me. If it weren’t for the fact that it’s only been a week, I’d tell her right now that I’m in love with her. As we end our kiss, I try to convey with my eyes the depth of my feelings.
 

She holds my gaze and then softly says, “Dawson, I lo—I um,
lost
something. I just realized. Um, I’ll be right back.”

Then she rushes out of my office.
 

What the hell?

Captive Films — Santa Monica

VANESSA

“God, what am I going to do now?” I say to myself, marching down the hall.
 

Keatyn yells at me. “What happened? Did Jennifer break the Internet? Although, that wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing.”

I let out a frustrated sigh and walk into her office. “No, everything is fine—well, as good as can be expected under the circumstances. It’s Dawson. He and I—we seem so—and then I almost—”
 

“Almost what?”

“Dawson and I are sort of seeing each other. And we’re having incredibly hot sex. It’s amazing. So amazingly good.” I roll my eyes. “I’m an attorney and a successful business woman, for goodness sakes, and just listen to me. I sound like a teenager. But he
is
amazing. And the sex—my god—the sex is beyond phenomenal. The best
ever
. But it's not just that. He’s so sweet and sincere and sweet.”

“And that’s a problem?”

“I asked him about Vegas. Why he didn’t sleep with anyone.”

“What’d he say?”

“That it was because of me. That he didn’t want to fuck up a good thing. He thinks we’re a good thing. And then he gave me this kiss—” I cross my arms in front of my chest and hug myself. “—that was so full of emotion that I almost said
I love you.
I wasn’t even thinking, it just naturally came out. I said I lo—realized what I was about to say then said I lost something and got the hell out of there. What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“It’s okay if you’re in love with him, Vanessa. I loved Aiden when I first met him. Your heart knows, so don’t let your head get in the way.”

“I feel stupid and lovesick. Hell, even my teen self would tell me that I’m clearly his rebound. His entry back into society as an eligible bachelor.”

“Vanessa, you went through a lot—just like Dawson did. And after two years of suffering in your own ways, you're both ready to love again. I'm happy for you.
You
should be happy for you.”

“If I would have let the
I love you
tumble out of my mouth, do you think he would’ve run the other way?”

Keatyn chuckles and gives me a smirk. “I don't know. Maybe I should ask his best friend to ask him if he likes you back.”

I roll my eyes. “Shut up. No. We are adults. I'm leaving this conversation now and getting back to work. Obviously, I have a lot of work to do. It would be huge for me to add Jennifer to my list of clients.”

As I'm walking out, she says, “So, don't ask?”

I turn around and hold the door frame. “No, I'm being ridiculous. I'll ask him myself.”

“Hey, wait a second,” she says.

I rush back to her desk. “Do you know something? Did he say something about me?”

“Oh my. You do have it bad,” she laughs. “Actually, I just thought of another way you could sway Jennifer.”

I plop down in the chair in front of her desk. “Shit.”

“You say it like falling in love is a bad thing.”

“It is.”

“Enjoy it, Vanessa. Picture yourself married to him five years from now. You don't want to look back and realize you missed out on feeling this way because you were being cynical.”

“I saw the movie, Keatyn. You have no room to talk.”

“I was seventeen and had extenuating circumstances.”

“So do I.”

She raises an eyebrow at me.
 

“We all have baggage,” I simply state.

“Well,” she says with a laugh. “You're over the weight limit. You need to take a bunch of it out, throw it away, and just take a carry-on with you.”

“When was the last time you flew commercial?” I ask her.

“Like, never. Okay, I was probably ten.”

“Exactly, which means you know I can take as many damn bags as I want.”

“But do you need them?” she says softly.

“What do you mean?”

“Neither of you need the baggage anymore.”

“How is it in one sentence you've managed to sum up everything my shrink has been trying to tell me for the past year?” I ask.

“Because I know how freeing it is when all the baggage disappears. Pretend Dawson is an impulse trip. Like we just decided to go to Italy, right now, and we’ll buy everything we need once we get there. Have you thought anymore about selling the house?”

I sigh. “I can't sell it, Keatyn, it's
so
beautiful.”

“It's like living in a museum. Have you ever curled up on the living room couch and marathon-watched movies? Only getting up to pee or get more snacks?”

“Um, no. I have a huge home theater. Why would I do that?”

She frowns at me and seems to change tactics when she asks, “Do you like the decor we chose for Dawson's beach house? Or were you too busy having sex to notice?”

“I noticed,” I say, rolling my eyes. “It's beautiful. So comfortable and inviting.”

She holds her hands up, gesturing that I just answered my own question.