Dirty Little Secret (17 page)

With a deep sigh, Cailin agreed. But when she reached the doorway, she turned back to face the woman trailing her. Her heart thumped painfully. Not knowing what to say, she stood for a moment, gripping the door frame. Finally she went with, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, giving Cailin a hug. “Anytime.” She headed into the hall and disappeared into Sara Beth’s room.

An hour later, guests began to filter out the front door. Cailin was helping Sara Beth clean up when Alex stopped behind her. “Going straight home?” he asked in a rough whisper.

“Yeah.” She wiped a hand across her damp brow. “I’m tired.”

“Okay.” He ducked his chin. White teeth worked his bottom lip, a sure sign something was on his mind. Cailin waited, knowing he’d get it out when he was ready.

She went back to stacking cups. When she stood, Alex finally said, “I’ll be over in a little while.”

A frisson of conflicting emotions zipped through her body. “What? But I thought…”

The bitter smile didn’t reach Alex’s eyes. “I’ve been given permission to have my cake and eat it too, so to speak.”

Cailin’s stomach churned at the implications. “John?”

He nodded.

Horror raised the volume of her voice. “He’s her”—Alex’s abrupt slash of a hand made her lower the volume to a raspy whisper—“her father. God, Alex. That’s…” What the hell did she say to that? She’d thought her parents were bad for cutting her off when she’d divorced, but this—

“Not for her to know,” he finished with an arch look.

Cailin agreed hastily. No way would she hurt her friend by even hinting at such a thing.

“Cailin.”

She looked up, seeing the strain on Alex’s face. The need to touch him, to soothe that hurt, clenched in her gut. “Come.”

Pain stared out of his eyes, and though she loved that he wasn’t the silent type, that he didn’t hide his emotions from her, she hated seeing it. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Just come,” she replied. Hurrying toward the downstairs kitchen was the only thing that kept her hands off him.

Chapter Twelve

Alex wanted desperately to close his eyes to the ugly reality that was his life, but that was difficult to do when he was trying to see in the dark. The step up to Cailin’s porch almost tripped him, but he caught himself at the last minute. The need to see her was like craving a drug—it made his hands shake, fogged his vision, created a skip in his heartbeat that had no relation to the pleasant stutter most people associated with love. This wasn’t pleasant; it wasn’t even really love, not right at the moment. It was simple, painful, overpowering need. No one, nothing else could cleanse the emotions tearing him up inside.

Nothing could make this situation right. Even when the board voted in their favor, sometime down the road, the memories would still be there. The things John had said and done could not be erased, not even with the fulfillment of Sara Beth’s dream. That ugliness would always remain, in her mind and his. But for a few minutes, for just a little while, Cailin could take him out of this world and replace reality with the fantasy. That’s what he craved right now. The fantasy world he’d built with her.

She must have been watching for him, because as he raised his hand to knock, the door creaked open. Cailin stood in the black opening. Her pale skin was bare, beautiful, and he sucked in his breath at the pleasure it evoked. He felt a moment’s regret that he wouldn’t be removing the red dress tonight; then sheer lust roared through him, and he stepped across the threshold, slammed the door shut, and grabbed the vision awaiting him.

There was no finesse, no foreplay, only harsh grunts and groans, ripping and tearing, and finally the sheer bliss of Cailin’s warm, soft, wet body surrounding his cock. He pushed deep, thankful she was ready. Not until he hilted, rocking against the hard ridge of her cervix, did he still. Cailin moaned, her head rolling slowly against the wall behind her, her channel clenching as she adjusted to his size. With desperate whimpers and tiny thrusts, she begged him to move, but Alex shook his head. He wrapped both hands underneath her ass, clenching the cheeks tightly, forcing her fully against him, laid his head against her breastbone, his mouth between the soft, tremulous mounds of her breasts, and breathed her in.

His sanity.

His world.

His miracle.

Finally, arms trembling with her full weight, he stumbled back, adjusted, and carefully lowered her to the ground, never losing the connection between them. Cailin sprawled beneath him, blonde curls fanning out like an angel, her eager body clutching him tightly. Her eyes were mysterious pools of darkness, and yet he felt her stare down deep into the heart of him. Nothing hidden, no shame. Just hunger and heat and need.

He grasped her legs where they tucked around him, pushing her knees out and back toward her chest, opening her completely. One slow withdrawal, her tissues dragging, crying to keep him, and then a hard, quick, heavy thrust all the way in. There was no way to keep him out, no way to control the depth of his penetration, and yet, instead of struggling, Cailin grasped her shins, angling her knees out farther, and pulled back, opening herself even more. Alex looked down at where the two of them were joined. Her beautiful lips stretched tight around his shaft, plain even in the low light, glistening with their juices. Alex placed his thumb in her mouth, felt her tongue lave him, and then moved it to the hard pebble of her clit, right there above where their connection began, and pressed in a slow circle.

Cailin wailed.

Like a knife, the sound pierced the bitter haze that had enveloped him. He wanted to hear it again, to drive away the remaining mist, over and over, until all he could see was Cailin, all he could feel were their bodies, all he could think about was driving her higher.

He set up a rhythm: back, forward, circle, press. Repeat. The rise to climax, fast but not fast enough, was killing him. Cailin tensed even more around him, internal muscles fluttering, her legs shaking, her cries frantic. She arched off the floor, only her shoulders and head remaining, her hips grinding against him. Lungs laboring, he drove them both on, Cailin chanting her need with every thrust. “Come, Alex. Come with me. Please.”

Until finally he did. The world sheeted white, oblivion, everything seared in the path of the rushing pleasure overtaking his body and hers. He shouted, one final cry, and all went blissfully black.

* * * *

Cailin hummed. The office was bright with morning sunshine, and even though it was a Monday morning, the world looked just right to her as long as she stayed away from the floor-to-ceiling windows. She dusted the plant that sat in the corner—she never had figured out what kind it was—before grabbing a bottle of water from the stash in the pantry area and watering it. She’d always like plants, though she had the brownest thumb in Alabama, it seemed. Didn’t matter what she planted, it died. Maybe that’s why this one had survived her stint in Alex’s office—she hadn’t planted it.

The thought made her laugh and pat the plant’s wide green leaves. Moving on to her desk, she straightened and cleaned and put things away, her usual Monday morning routine. Starting the week with a neat office filled her with anticipation. Last week all she’d been filled with was dread, since John had been waiting when she walked in. But not today. Today would be a good day.

She’d just bent down to grab the files necessary for today’s meetings from the filing cabinet’s bottom drawer when a heavy hand gripped her hip.

Joy surged as she turned. “Ale—”

“Good morning, Ms. Gray. Or may I call you Cailin?” James Allen stood far too close, his bulk threatening as he ran a calloused finger along a blonde curl that had escaped her morning upsweep with all the bending and stretching.

What the hell is he doing here? Why didn’t security call?
After the problem with Tammy, Alex had made certain they were notified before Allen was allowed to step foot in the elevator. And now he’d caught her here, in the office, totally alone since Alex had a meeting with Ian and Sara Beth this morning.

Trying desperately to control the panic making it hard to breathe, Cailin attempted to sidle away from his touch, but the man had fingers like a vise. There would be bruises on her hip later. “Mr. Allen, what—”

“And you can call me James. After all”—his slightly bulging eyes leered their way down her body and back up—“I’m hoping to get to know you very well.” A fat pink tongue slicked along his lower lip. “Very well, indeed.”

Nausea twisted her stomach. She took a single step backward, all the room she had, pressing her body against the filing cabinet and ignoring the dig of a drawer handle in her spine as she sought any way to escape the man’s proximity. “I don’t understand.”

His poor-innocent-me look wasn’t innocent at all. “You don’t? Well, maybe I can explain it to you.” Thick, hard fingers traced the edge of her collarbone above her blouse. Cailin was distinctly aware of the threat of that hand, of how easily it could slip—or shove—below the flimsy material protecting her right now. Automatically her hand flew up, slapping him away. She tore at his fingers on her hip, but the hand she’d slapped tangled in her hair, lifting until she was pulled taut, stretched along the front of the filing cabinet as if it were a rack. The muscles in her legs strained as she went up on tiptoe, trying desperately to release the pull on her hair.

“Uh-uh-uh, naughty girl.” Allen’s alcohol-laden breath hit with almost as much force as his heavy body slamming her against the cabinet. His fingers tightened cruelly, forcing a gasp from her lips.

“What are you doing? Let go of me!”

He snorted his opinion of that demand. “Don’t get so excited, missy. I know what you’re here for. I just decided to take advantage of it.” His flushed face dipped down, and he drew a deep breath, scenting her like a dog. The nausea rose to the back of her throat. “If I’d known what a hypocrite our Alex was, I’d have had my eye on you a whole lot sooner.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, see, I took me a trip to Nashville recently.”

Her fear-saturated brain struggled to make a connection.
Nashville?
Nashville. Oh God…

She turned her head, straining away from him, panic thumping a heavy drumbeat in her chest. Allen laughed, the sound pouring over her like an oil slick, as he transferred the hand on her hip to her jaw and forced her to face him again. “I see you’re getting my drift. I just happened to have tickets for the play downtown. There I am, walking across Sixth Avenue, when I look up and what do I see but little ol’ you hanging all over our very own Mr. Alex Holier-than-thou Brannigan. Right there, in the street. As if he wasn’t a married man and all.”

A tilt of his hips brought a firm bulge in contact with her churning stomach. Pure, electrifying adrenaline shot through her already trembling limbs. “Please…”

She hated the whimpering sound of her own voice. The fact that she and Alex had been seen together didn’t even matter right now. Who cared, anyway? Not John, that was for sure. After what that prick had said to Alex, she figured he could have a harem and John wouldn’t care as long as he stayed married to Sara Beth and did what was best for the company. No, what mattered was getting out of here without being raped. How the hell had he known she’d be alone?

“Mr. Allen, please, you need to let me go. Alex will be back any—”

“Shut up!” Droplets of spit hit her face with every hard word. “You don’t think I’m stupid, do ya? You think I can’t get in here anytime I want?” Wet lips left a slimy trail along her cheek as he moved across it to whisper in her ear. “Did you know one of the security officers retired last week? I did. I made sure the most qualified candidate for the job was offered up. Money can open doors—literally.” His laugh blasted her ear.

Cailin slid her eyes closed, trying frantically to calm herself, to think. Instead, panic had her struggling against him, desperate to get free, to escape the feel of his body against her. Tears pooled at the pain digging into her spine, in her neck and jaw as she dangled from Allen’s relentless grip, but she couldn’t stop. She needed to get away.

A yelp slipped out as he yanked her head back hard, and she gave in to anger and adrenaline surging in her system. The time for helplessness and tears was over—it was time to fight. Another jerk threatened to snatch her hair from her scalp.
Damn it!
“Let go!” she shrieked, lifting her foot to kick out at him, but the movement only let him slip between her legs, her heel sliding ineffectually along his shin.

Allen laughed. “You’re a feisty one, aren’t ya. I like the feisty ones. All piss and vinegar and fire. I was watching you the other night. That sexy red dress.” He ground against her. “That round ass.” He tilted his head to stare down her blouse. “I bet those are just as round, aren’t they? And I’m gonna find out, so don’t bother playin’ coy with me. We all saw how Alex was looking at you, and you at him. You’re just his dirty little secret—and men don’t care about their dirty little secrets. Didn’t you know that?”

“No.” Alex cared; she knew he cared.

“Oh yes.” His palm slid from her chin down her body until cruel fingers bit into her breast. “Alex is gettin’ too big for his britches. He thinks he can keep his women all to himself, like that silly slut out at reception. He needs to learn a lesson. He needs to realize this is how this company has always run, will always be run”—pain sparked in her breast as he found her nipple and twisted in a cruel pinch—“with or without him. Women have only one role here, and this is it.”

From the dark, angry tone of his voice, Cailin knew she was out of time. Allen’s patience was at an end, and she might have only one chance to save herself.

Gripping her shirt, Allen stepped back enough to yank down the front, stripping the buttons and opening the flap in one heavy jerk. Taking advantage of the distance between them, she lashed out again, her foot finding his knee with a hard
snap
, her hands aiming for his eyes. She missed, fingernails gouging into his cheeks. Allen howled in rage and backhanded her.

She felt the impact as she hit the side of her desk and rolled onto her stomach, had just enough presence of mind to grip the edges to keep herself from skidding off the side before Allen landed on her back. His weight was like a full-ton bull pinning her down, denying her breath, as he grabbed the hem of her skirt and shoved it upward. Gathering what little air she could, Cailin focused all her strength and let out a scream to rival the best B-movie heroine who ever belted one out on the silver screen.