Determined: To Win (Determined Trilogy Book 3) (2 page)

“What can wait?” A deep voice intoned behind me and sent reverberations ripping through my body. It was him. I felt David against my back as he bent down to kiss me on the cheek. “Hello, darling.”

Darling? He never called me darling. The term of endearment felt odd, and I knew that it was for the benefit of Charles Pocket Square, rather than me.

“Oh, hi,
darling
.” I turned in my seat and glared at him. “What are you doing here?” I was thrilled to see him, of course, but also a bit peeved he had interrupted.

“You are always saying we need to do more things as a couple,” David said as he pulled up next to me. I tried not to stare as he lowered his tall, strong frame into the chair. Our text conversation earlier this morning had really gotten to me, and despite being a bit annoyed in the moment, I had to admit: my body was hungry for his touch.

Charles must have gotten the hint because he quickly got up, leaving an unfinished cup of coffee on the table. “Excuse me, but I need to be going. It was nice to meet you, Sam.”

I barely had a chance to answer before he was gone. As I watched him walk away, I could tell David was barely containing his smile. He was clearly very pleased with himself.

“
Dav-id.”
I raised my eyebrow at him.

“
Sa-man-tha.”
He tempered his grin, but his eyes still flashed with delight. I think he enjoyed scaring that man off.
Humph.
He could be so territorial. It was simultaneously annoying and a serious turn-on. I shook my head at him.

“You can’t do that.”

“Do what?” he said as he stole a sip of my coffee. Now he was acting innocent. I didn’t buy it for a second.

“You know what.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Samantha.”

“You can’t just insert yourself into every …”

“Can’t I?” His eyes gleamed at his little joke, and he reached over and pulled my chair in towards his until our legs were interwoven.

“I don’t know what I am going to do with you, Chief.” I sighed. Trying to make a point with him once he was in this mode was impossible. I knew that from experience.

“I can think of several options, Ms. Sharp.” His hand started to travel from my knee up my thigh. I blushed and pushed it away.

“What are you doing here, anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be at work? Or did you leave to spy on me? Have you been following me this whole time?”

His eyes sparkled a bit as he sat back in his chair. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his charcoal trousers, and damn, he looked good. David was tall, a little over six foot, and strong. He filled out his tailored suit very well. Surveying him, I realized that despite being thoroughly annoyed, I was already moist and ready to go. Dammit.

“Relax, Samantha. I just got here. My meeting got moved, and I had hoped to introduce myself to Miss Moretti. But the traffic was bad, and when I got here you were alone.” He interlaced his fingers with mine.

I frowned. “That still isn’t a good excuse for frightening away potential business contacts.”

David’s eyes widened and it looked like he was trying to hide a smile. “Is that what you think that man was?”

I furrowed my eyebrows at him. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes and no. Samantha, you are so insanely beautiful that yes, I do have a hard time believing any man could be immune to you. But I also know you are brilliant and savvy, and anyone who spends two seconds with you would think the same.”

I melted.

He pulled me in close and kissed me softly. “You can’t blame me for wanting to keep you all to myself,” he whispered, “I need you to be mine, Samantha. Mine alone.”

“I am yours. You have me.” I breathed as his lips moved down to my neck. And it was true. I was his. He didn’t need to fight anyone off. I was his alone.

We kissed in the café for a while longer, oblivious to the stares of late afternoon patrons.

2

After we left the museum, we went home in David’s SUV with Elliot trailing behind us in mine. Once we got to David’s building, Thomas brought us around to the garage instead of letting us out in the front like he used to.

We had started this new procedure recently when David’s old college roommate and former business partner Brian had started to make good on some threats. Although Brian was now out of the country and no longer an immediate concern, he had managed to make his influence known. Or maybe influence is too light of a word.

My sister was still recovering from a broken leg that happened when a car hit us both while visiting my parents in Saratoga. Brian had also likely been the one who broke into a children’s center where I volunteered. We didn’t have any hard evidence yet, but David’s security team seemed pretty convinced these were all efforts to spook David. Brian was trying to take down Keith Ventures from the inside out, and David responded by trying to acquire his company. Suffice to say, this had exacerbated the long standing animosity between the two of them. Hence the extra security measures.

But the part that really frightened David, I think, was finding evidence of Brian at his penthouse. David had insisted that I come and stay with him while all of this was going on, primarily because he thought I’d be safer. I normally lived in a little studio in Oakland where the ‘security system’ consisted of a now broken lock on the door. Having me stay at his place in downtown San Francisco was supposedly safer. He had private, around-the-clock security on top of the normal building security, and honestly, I had agreed to move in without a fight.

So when we discovered someone had broken in and put a shoebox full of newspaper clippings under his bed, he was understandably shocked. Initially, when I discovered the box, I thought it was David’s secret hiding place, which David later made fun of me for. I believe he scoffed,
‘Really, Samantha? I have a safe. Why would I put anything important in a shoebox?’
Clearly, someone had wanted me to find the documents. I still wasn’t sure why. To scare me? To scare me away from David? To make me mad at him?

The clippings focused on a girl at UC Berkeley who was found dead at the bottom of a staircase in one of the school buildings. When I first read through the stories, I was beyond surprised to find David’s name interlinked with hers. Try more like shocked. Stunned. Hurt. It took a while, but I eventually got the full story from him. They had been in love (puppy love, as David carefully corrected me several times), and were engaged for about two weeks before she was killed. Neither her parents nor his had any idea about the engagement.

After first reading the articles, I was heartbroken—after all, David had told me over and over that I was special, that I wasn’t like the dozens of women he had accompany him to social events over the years. The same women who approached me any time we were out in public to warn me about his inability to commit. I already knew his commitment issues came from a deeper, more complex place, and we were working through that. So, of course, learning about the fiancé threw me off. I wanted to believe that I was the only one for him, just like he was the only one for me.

But back to the clippings. They shook David to the core. He had thought I had learned about Sara Goldstein, his fiancé, from the Internet not a shoebox under his bed. But the contents had me raging with so much emotion I hadn’t stopped to think about that. After learning about the box, he spent all night examining the security tapes with his team, and finally they found a possibility … the person who picked up our dry-cleaning on Fridays. A few Fridays ago, it wasn’t the normal person. He or she avoided the cameras expertly, so we couldn’t see a face, but they had brought a bag with them. A bag just big enough for a shoebox. That had to be it. They must have slid it under the bed while we were in Hawaii, leaving me to discover it the next week.

Learning this had creeped me out. Not just because of what was in the box, but because it meant Brian knew I was there. Staying with David. And he knew our patterns. He, or someone, had to be watching us.

On the brief elevator ride up from the garage up to the apartment, David held me at his side, his hand slowly stroking my ass, just out of Thomas’s line of vision. Just his fingers managed to make my heart race. I loved feeling coveted by him; his touch was possessive yet tender. As the doors opened into the foyer of David’s apartment, Thomas disappeared off to the side. I knew what was next, and my whole body was screaming for it. I put my tote down on the table in the foyer and started to slip off my heels.

“What are you doing, Ms. Sharp?” David looked at me pointedly.

“Taking off my shoes.”

“But I like those shoes.” His voiced had changed; it was deeper and more gravelly, rough. His eyes moved from my feet to my eyes. I felt the electricity crackle between us.

“Sorry Chief, I can’t walk another step in them. I’ve been in them all day.”

“Easily remedied.” He leaned down and scooped me up in one quick motion. God, he was strong. You wouldn’t necessarily know it, his clothes hid it well. But under that exquisite tailoring and expensive fabric was a body of honed muscle and strength, built for dominance and protection. And in bed, he was a machine—and I, a very willing participant.

“Now, where would you like me to fuck you, Ms. Sharp? Bedroom? Living room floor? Kitchen table?”

I blushed and looked around, hoping Hilde the housekeeper couldn’t hear. I didn’t see her so I lowered my voice and responded.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

The joke was not interpreted as playful. I could feel his eyes darkening even without seeing them. I continued, pleased with my ability to provoke such a reaction.

“You better hurry, my boyfriend might be home soon, and he’s the jealous type.”

A low growl seemed to emanate from within him as he headed down the hall into the bedroom with me over his shoulder.

Once inside, he flung me onto the bed. He stood a few feet away, teasing me, as he slowly removed his suit jacket before rolling up his shirtsleeves. Once both were rolled up, he walked over to me and pulled me toward him so that my legs were hanging off the edge of the bed.

“I’m going to remove your panties now, Ms. Sharp. Don’t tell your boyfriend.”

He made a joke! I grinned with delight and turned my face up toward his. I hiked up my skirt a bit, raising one knee a little too far to encourage him. The anticipation was killing me. Finally, he moved in closer to me and held my gaze as he reached up under my skirt and slipped off my silk panties.

He brought them up to his face and inhaled deeply. I blushed. I had seen the move before, in movies, as a joke. But with him, it was the most erotic thing in the world. It was if it calmed him and turned him on at the same time.

When he was done with the panties, he tossed them to the side and looked down at me, his eyes dark. “Take off your clothes. Leave the heels,” he barked, his voice heavy with need.

“What about you?” I countered. He was still fully-clothed, his trousers barely disguising his bulging erection.

“I aim to please,” he acquiesced and started to unbutton his shirt. We took our time, undressing slowly, teasing each other with our eyes, timing it just right so that we were both incredibly turned on by the time the last scraps of fabric hit the floor.

David stood there before me, his cock throbbing as his eyes traced my curves. The muscles on his arms twisted and rippled as he ran his hands through his hair. “You are so fucking beautiful, Samantha. Do you see what you do to me?”

I laid back on the bed, showing my body to him, my sex aching for his cock. I needed him inside me, needed him to fill me. Nothing could compare to that feeling. I was addicted to the overwhelming power of him. I writhed on the bed, my cunt heavy with need. But he was just standing there, waiting, watching me. His gorgeous golden body on display, a taut and toned sex machine. It was too much.

I reached down with my hand, desperate to address the longing I felt between my legs. Sometimes David made me do this, he enjoyed watching me pleasure myself. But this was not the case today. He broke in just as I started to touch myself.

“Uh-uh, Ms. Sharp.” He admonished. “I must admit, while there are few things I enjoy more than watching you make yourself come, I have something else in mind. Put your hands down. Your orgasm is mine right now.”

My subconscious whimpered, but I obeyed. He came over to me and pulled me to the edge of the bed with my legs, and kneeled down in front of me. He reached up and ran his hands lightly over my breasts, checking my level of arousal. My nipples were hard, and he massaged them slowly, winning a small moan from me. Then he dropped back to the floor and spread my legs apart so I was fully displayed for him. I dropped my head back onto the bed, submitting to the sensation as he ran his hands up my legs, stopping just short of the area that would grant me any release.

He inhaled deeply and pulled me forward with a quick, small jolt to the hips. Then he moved his hands softly over my thighs, caressing them gently before tracing my hips with his fingers. No part of my body was ever an afterthought with him. Finally, once I was desperate, he moved his fingers gently toward my sex, first along the outer edges, circling slowly, teasing me. He found my swollen nub with his thumb and tested it gently. I gasped. The sensation was incredible. I had to have more. I bucked against him, trying to find the pressure again, but he took it away and kissed my thighs instead. Then he moved his fingers down to my folds, and parted them gently before testing my cunt with one, then two fingers.

“Jesus, Samantha, you are so wet,” he purred, “Do you know how much that turns me on?”

I managed something between a moan and a whimper. I was beyond aroused. I could feel the moisture practically gushing out of me, ready to provide a slick welcome to his cock.

“Please fuck me,” I begged.

He stroked me a few more times with his fingers before chiding me again. “Uh-uh, Samantha. I need to feel you on my lips as you come.”

So I gave myself over to him … not that I had much of a choice. He started licking my folds, slowly pulling my arousal to new heights before he gave me the satisfaction of sucking on my swollen clit. The sweet stimulation did it. My thighs tensed around his head, holding him in place as my toes curled under. My breath shortened and caught as an intense heat exploded inside me, sending pulsing waves of pleasure through my body.