Read All He Really Needs Online
Authors: Emily McKay
Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance, #Contemporary Romance
All He Really Needs
There’s nothing a Cain can’t do
No doubt about it, Griffin Cain makes love better than any man. Night after night his decadent, sensual acts turn conservative Sydney Edwards into a wanton woman. But all that stops when Griffin is made CEO of his family company…and becomes Sydney’s boss.
Griffin’s father’s desperate ultimatum has put a billion dollars and a legacy at stake, and now Griffin needs his forbidden lover’s help more than ever—in the boardroom. As for the bedroom, why can’t he have it both ways? Nothing will stop Griffin from getting Sydney back where she belongs.
He Was Her Boss.…
A few orgasms—earth-shattering or not—were not worth playing Russian roulette with her whole life.
“If we’re going to be working together,” she said, “this thing between us has to end. No candlelit dinners, no late-night phone calls… No sex.”
In response, Griffin threw back his head and laughed.
She set her jaw stubbornly. “I’m not joking.”
He pulled her toward him so she was standing between his outstretched legs and took her lips in a soul-searing kiss. The kind that almost ended up with him ripping off her clothes and devouring her until she came apart in his arms.
He smiled. “Well then, you let me know how that goes for you.”
Dear Reader,
When I first envisioned Griffin Cain, he was no more than the
charming second brother in the Cain family. Characters often start like that for
me, very one-dimensional. Still, I knew that he would have to become the CEO of
the company one day. My critique partner, the fabulous Robyn Dehart, told me
early on that he needed a goal beyond wanting to escape the mantle of
responsibility. Of course she was right. She usually is. So I decided that this
charming, seemingly irresponsible man was secretly involved with an
international aid organization, just the kind of thing his father would
disapprove of.
Of course, then I had to decide which international aid
organization to model his imaginary charity after. My good friend Tracy Wolff
suggested
Water.org
, a charity with which Matt Damon is heavily involved.
I did a little research (i.e., wasted hours and hours online). I’m tremendously
impressed with Water.org. That’s what inspired me to create Hope
2
O for Griffin.
I hope that a few of you who read this letter will check out
Water.org and find out what great work they do. I made a donation in honor of
the book and think it would be pretty cool if others did, too. I’ll be hosting a
fundraiser in February through
Water.org
. If you
want to give, too, you can check out my website or theirs for more
information.
As always, I hope you enjoy this book and love Griffin and
Sydney like I do!
Emily McKay
Emily McKay
All He Really Needs
Books by Emily McKay
Harlequin Desire
The Tycoon’s Temporary Baby
#2097
*
All He Ever Wanted
#2188
*
All He Really Needs
#2213
Silhouette Desire
Surrogate and Wife
#1710
Baby on the Billionaire’s Doorstep
#1866
Baby Benefits
#1902
Tempted Into the Tycoon’s Trap
#1922
In the Tycoon’s Debt
#1967
Affair with the Rebel Heiress
#1990
Winning It All
#2031 “His Accidental
Fiancée”
The Billionaire’s Bridal Bid
#2051
Seduced: The Unexpected Virgin
#2066
*At Cain’s Command
Other titles by this author available in
ebook format.
EMILY McKAY
has been reading romance novels since she was eleven years
old. Her first Harlequin Romance book came free in a box of Hefty garbage bags.
She has been reading and loving romance novels ever since. She lives in Texas
with her geeky husband, her two kids and too many pets. Her debut novel,
Baby, Be Mine,
was a RITA® Award finalist for Best
First Book and Best Short Contemporary. She was also a 2009
RT Book Reviews
Career Achievement nominee for Series Romance. To
learn more, visit her website,
www.EmilyMcKay.com
.
For the men and women involved with charitable organizations around the world. They give their time, their work and their money to improve the lives of others. They are the real heroes.
One
G
riffin Cain certainly knew how to make love
to a woman.
This was not the first time that thought had flittered through
Sydney Edward’s mind. Indeed, it wasn’t even the first time today she’d thought
it. Oh, the things he did to her body—the decadent, sinful, exquisite things he
did.
But that was Griffin all over. Decadent. Sinful. Exquisite.
And so completely, totally opposite from her. Even now—four
months into their clandestine relationship—she could hardly believe the things
he did to her. The things she let him do to her. No, to be fair, the things she
begged him to do.
Begged.
Her, Sydney Edwards.
The most staid, conservative, responsible person she knew. And
she was putty in his hands. One of which was, even now, tracing enticing swirls
across her naked hip.
“I should go,” she muttered, attempting to roll away from
him.
“No.” The sound that emanated from Griffin’s throat was low and
possessive, more of a growl than a word. His hand slipped over her hip to rest
low on her belly as he pulled her back against him. “Not yet.”
“I’m already late for work.” But even she didn’t believe her
protestations. Not when his fingers were slipping down into the curls between
her legs. Not when her back was automatically arching so that the moist center
of her desire tilted toward him.
“Then be late,” he grumbled, nipping at her shoulder with his
teeth.
They had had sex twice last night and once already this
morning. Normally, she didn’t stay over at his condo. So, normally, she was back
at home, showered and de-Griffined, long before she had a chance to be late for
work.
But Griffin had just returned from an overseas trip the night
before. He’d had a different trip just prior to that one. In short, lately he’d
been gone entirely too much for her taste.
Not that she needed him.
Not that she even really missed
him.
It was just that…well, she craved his touch. Which was not at
all the same thing as missing him.
Sydney knew that her relationship with Griffin was odd.
Contrary to her very nature, even.
They spent very little time together outside of bed. In bed, he
lavished her body with attention. So much so that she might have worried she’d
become addicted to his touch—if she was the kind of person who allowed herself
the weakness of having addictions.
Besides, she was twenty-seven. She was young and healthy. It
would be unnatural for her not to be attracted to someone like Griffin. She
wasn’t the least bit worried that she might become too attached. After all, this
was Griffin Cain. Charming playboy. Office flirt. The heir to one-third of the
Cain fortune. All in all, an unlikely match for her.
So she wasn’t worried that, last night, as soon as she’d gotten
his text that he’d landed at Houston International Airport, she’d climbed out of
bed and come straight to his downtown condo to meet him. And it had been late.
So of course she’d bent her personal rule about staying over. No one wanted to
drive home at three in the morning.
And she wasn’t even particularly worried about her inability to
muster anxiety about being late to work.
Still, she tried to fool him, even if she couldn’t fool
herself.
“It’s all well and good for you to be late to work. You’re
Griffin Cain. Your family owns the company. People will forgive you
anything.”
“And I just got in from Norway.”
“I thought it was Sweden.” As if it made a difference. He was
always getting back from some exotic location or heading off to some other.
“Your boss isn’t even coming in today,” Griffin murmured.
His fingers found the nub of her desire, stroking her in a way
that made her tremble and ache all over again.
The rational part of her brain lodged a vain protest. She
should be stronger than this. She should have some shred of willpower where he
was concerned. But she wasn’t and she didn’t.
Besides, once more wouldn’t hurt.
The heat of his erection stroked her moist folds. He was so
close. All she had to do was rotate her hips and wiggle to accommodate him from
behind. He’d take her fast and hard. One movement from her and they could both
have what they needed.
She arched her back, ready to give herself over to her desire,
but instead, he rolled her over onto her back. He pinned both her hands over her
head with one hand and stroked her folds with the other, making her arch and
moan.
“Open your eyes.” The gentle tone of his voice didn’t make it
any less of a command.
She kept her eyes firmly closed, willing his fingers to move
more quickly, to push her over the edge.
But he stilled. She knew he was teasing her until she gave him
what he wanted. She rocked her hips, bumping against his hand and against the
length of his erection. Digging her heels into the mattress, she pushed her hips
up, wanting to drive him in.
“Open your eyes,” he said again, somehow touching her, teasing
her, yet staying out of reach.
She gritted her teeth as she opened her eyes. She wanted to
glare at him for forcing her hand, but sexual desire made her languid and weak.
Her protestation came out as a groan of satisfaction.
Griffin leaned over her, his usually relaxed smile stretched
into a grimace of restraint. He’d teased her, but it had cost him. He was
torturing himself, too. It made her smile, that fierce expression—knowing how
hard it was for him to restrain himself.
He muttered a curse and plunged into her. She met his every
thrust, her gaze on his the whole time, until she felt his control shatter and
his own eyes closed. Only then did she let her climax wash over her.
His body was hot and heavy on hers, but the sensation was not
unpleasant. She was satisfied. Not just her body but her pride. She may need
him, but he needed her just as badly.
He rolled off her and this time, when he pulled her against
him, she didn’t resist. He was right. Her boss, Dalton Cain, wasn’t coming in
today. He had had nothing on the schedule today anyway, no meetings to move
around, no appointments to jostle. For once, her plate was blessedly bare. No
one would miss her.
Even though she was late for work already, even though she
still needed to shower and eat before heading in, she let herself fall asleep.
Partly because she was exhausted and sated as she rarely had been and partly
because her realization brought her a sort of peace.
*
Griffin should have been exhausted, but he wasn’t. Just
as he should no longer have the energy to desire Sydney, but he did.
Despite his fatigue, Griffin couldn’t sleep. He was still on
Norway time. Or was it Sweden? He’d traveled so much recently, he barely knew
where he was or where he’d been.
So he did what he always did when he couldn’t sleep. He turned
on the TV and poured himself a bowl of cereal. The marshmallows in his Lucky
Charms were just starting to soften when the doorbell rang. For the life of him,
he couldn’t guess who it might be.
He opened the door to see his brother, Dalton, standing in the
hall. Dalton, who normally looked like he’d wandered straight out of a Brooks
Brothers’ ad, was dressed in a slightly wrinkled shirt and jeans. Jeans, for
Christ’s sake. Griffin hadn’t even been sure Dalton owned jeans. But there he
was. And the poor guy looked worn-out. Like the past few days had beaten the
crap out of him and left him in an alley somewhere.
Unsure how else to greet his brother, Griffin said, “Hey,
you’re up early.”
Dalton’s gaze drifted from Griffin’s bare feet to the pajama
bottoms he’d pulled on not five minutes ago before finally landing the cereal
bowl on the table in front of the TV.
“I’m not up early,” Dalton said drily. “It’s nearly noon.”
Nearly noon. Crap, he really had kept Sydney here way longer
than he should have.
At the thought of Sydney, Griffin’s gaze jerked to Dalton.
Dalton was her boss. And—as far as they knew—Dalton didn’t know that his brother
and his assistant were sleeping together. Griffin didn’t
think
that Dalton would mind, but hell, what did he know?
Feigning casual, Griffin leaned back to glance at the clock on
the TV, then he scoffed. “It’s 11:05 a.m. That’s not nearly noon. And I just got
back from the Middle East last night.” Or was it Norway? Or Sweden? Crap.
He could only hope that because he didn’t remember where he’d
been, Dalton didn’t, either. Sweden—or Norway—first for a meeting with Bergen
Petro and then down to Yemen for another meeting. No more than a day for each of
those trips. Then he’d taken two personal days for a long weekend down to
Rwanda. No one from Cain Enterprises knew about Rwanda, but for him it had been
the most important part of the trip.
He was secretly involved with an international aid organization
called Hope
2
O. He’d been in Rwanda on behalf of Hope
2
O working to set up a water
district there.
He traveled all over the world for his job. Of course, no one
at Cain Enterprises knew he worked with Hope
2
O. The Cains were allowed to donate
to certain charitable organizations, but the family members rarely came into
contact with actual poverty. That kind of dirty work was beneath them. To the
Cains, compassion was weakness. He didn’t want anyone in the family—not even his
brother—to know just how “weak” he was.
He walked back toward the sofa. “Hey, you want something to
eat?”
“No, thank you.” Dalton shut the door and followed him in.
“You want some coffee?” Griffin asked.
“Yes. Please.”
Griffin headed for the coffeemaker. Though his condo boasted a
gourmet kitchen, mostly it went unused. It was galley-style, open to the living
room, outfitted in honed black granite and hickory cabinetry. His housekeeper
kept it stocked with the essentials. Coffee, cereal, fresh milk, cold cuts and
bread.
He punched a few buttons on his Saeco Espresso machine and let
it work its magic. It made a single, perfect cup of coffee at a time, but it was
damn slow.
Glancing out into the living room, he saw that Dalton had his
elbows propped on his knees and his head in his hands. The guy looked
whipped—which was something Griffin would never have thought possible.
Dalton had spent his entire life dancing to their father’s
tune, and until today, Griffin would have sworn he was fine with it. Cooper was
the opposite. He was Hollister’s illegitimate son. He had almost nothing to do
with the family at all.
The closest he himself had come to bowing to Hollister’s will
was accepting the job he currently held at Cain Enterprises. Because Cain
Enterprises—a conglomerate of oil, land development and banking—operated mostly
in the United States, there wasn’t a lot of international marketing to do. It
was a cush job. One that Hollister had created solely to lure Griffin to work
for him. Hollister liked having his sons firmly under his control. Griffin liked
the fat paycheck and the international travel. And he’d never once envied Dalton
his position as heir to the family business.
Dalton was the company leader, Cooper was the family outsider
and Griffin was just the guy who met everyone’s lowest expectations. Until
recently, everyone had been happy with that.
A little more than a week ago, Hollister—who was practically on
his death bed—had called them all to his side. Apparently news of his impending
demise had reached the outside world. Some lover he’d scorned long ago had sent
him a nasty anonymous letter informing him that he had a daughter he’d never
known. The woman who’d written the letter wanted him to die knowing he’d never
find the girl.
A letter like that wasn’t something Hollister would take lying
down. So, he’d issued a challenge: whichever of his sons found the missing
heiress would inherit all of Hollister’s wealth. If no one found her, all his
money and his share of Cain Enterprises would revert to the state.
Yeah, Griffin was pissed off that their father was trying to
manipulate them all like this, but he wasn’t particularly worried. The way he
saw it, Dalton was highly motivated to find the heiress. He had the most to
lose.
If Dalton’s weary appearance now was any indication, the search
for their long-lost sister was not going well.
As far as Griffin knew, Dalton had been working full-time the
past week to try to find the heiress. That was why he’d texted Sydney that he
wouldn’t be coming in today.
Ah, crap.
For the first time since Dalton showed up on his doorstep,
Griffin considered how Sydney would react if she realized her boss was there.
Though they’d been together for four months now, she’d insisted they keep their
relationship a secret.
Especially from Dalton.
And here he was about to serve Dalton coffee. As if the machine
could read his mind and make coffee, it emitted a series of seductive beeps to
indicate Dalton’s drink was ready.
Griffin came out of the kitchen and set a mug on the table in
front of Dalton. “So,” he said, clapping his hands together to hide his nerves.
“What brings big brother D to my humble abode in the middle of the day?”
Jesus. Big brother D? Why had he said that? He sounded like a
jerk. Thankfully, Dalton didn’t seem to notice.
Dalton reached for the coffee. “I think the real question is
why you’re not at work in the middle of the day.”
“Hey, jet lag’s a bitch.” Suddenly it occurred to him that as
long as Sydney didn’t come out of the bedroom, he had no reason to be nervous.
It wasn’t as if Dalton would wander in there on his own. Griffin purposefully
stretched his mouth into a salacious grin, just to make sure Dalton knew he
wouldn’t be welcomed into the condo’s private quarters.
As if on cue the shower cranked on in the other room.
