Breaking All the Rules (18 page)

Twelve noon.

My office.

No RSVP is necessary.

Nate

I trace the words and smile. This wonderful man is courting me, quirky crazy Camille Joplin Trent. He’s making one of my secret dreams come true.

I access Nate’s schedule, prepared to set up the appointment for lunch. This isn’t required. He has already blocked the hour, today, tomorrow. My heart skips a beat. Forever. Ten years from today’s date there’s a meeting labeled Lunch With Camille on Nate’s busy timetable.

The default for executive meetings is private, with only the participants having access to the details. Nate has designated our lunch dates to be public. Everyone in the company will see he’s spending this hour with me.

Forever.

He loves me. And I love him. I know what he needs, what will make him happy. I spend the next thirty minutes painstakingly changing our contract by hand, tweaking every clause using the green pen Nate gave me. My Iceman needs this agreement, needs this structure, as I need the freedom to rebel, to express my emotions, to be me. I embrace and love this part of him.

Mr. Henley sends me a recurring meeting request. I’ll accept it later, my focus now on my relationship with Nate. I can’t change the world without him. We’re a team.

I clip the pen to the first couple of pages of the amended contract, hug the document to my chest, and exit my makeshift office, humming as I move along the hallway. A strange calmness falls upon me, a sense of rightness.

I should be freaking out. With this new agreement I’m committing to Nate forever, establishing rules I’ll be forced to follow, setting expectations I’ll have to fulfill. The crazy thing is I
want
to follow these rules. I
want
to fulfill Nate’s expectations of me. I
want
forever.

I press the button for the elevator once and the doors open, the elevator gods rewarding me for my restraint. The car is empty and the trip is express, the only stop being the finance floor. I don’t have time for second thoughts.

Not that I have second thoughts. I’m more certain about this, about us, than I’ve ever been about anything.

I exit the elevator car. Gladys is seated at her post. She glances down at my bare feet and sighs. “Mr. Lawford is expecting you, Miss Trent.” She places her palms on her desk and pushes her plump body out of her chair. “I’ll bring you to him.”

I raise my eyebrows. “That isn’t necessary. I know the way.”

“That
is
necessary.” Gladys walks along the hallway and I follow her, matching her slower pace. “Mr. Lawford has designated you as a tier-one guest. Tier-one guests are escorted to his office. They have unlimited access to him. If you need to speak to him and he’s in a meeting, you can call me and I’ll locate him.”

I’m designated as a tier-one guest. This is how important I am to Nate. “Whoa.”

“Yes, whoa.” Gladys smiles. “Mr. Blaine, our CEO, is the only other guest Mr. Lawford has designated as being tier one.”

I’m on par with his boss. Nate loves me. I know he does.

The floor is quiet. I catch glimpses of faces, Nate’s employees furtively watching us as we walk toward his office. Gossip spreads like wildfire in an office. I stand straighter. Everyone will know how much Nate cares for me.

We approach his office. The door is closed. “I’m canceling Mr. Lawford’s meetings for the day.” Gladys pushes her glasses up on her nose. “He’s a good boss, Miss Trent. His team would do anything for him, and we want him to be happy.”

“That’s what I want too, Gladys.” I summon a smile, determined to meet this new challenge.

“I know.” The receptionist raps her knuckles on the door. “Mr.—”

Nate swings the door open, his presence sucking all of the oxygen out of the space, leaving me breathless. “Thank you, Gladys,” he rumbles. “That will be all.” He doesn’t look at his receptionist, his gaze fixed on my face.

His black suit, white shirt, and black tie are immaculate, his collar and cuffs stiff and perfect. His golden hair is darkened with moisture, as though he has recently showered. There’s no shadow of stubble on his defined jaw. I inhale. He smells delicious, fresh and sexy and overwhelmingly male.

Nate is studying me closely, his expression hungry, warm, no trace of the Iceman in his handsome face. “You came.”

“I haven’t come yet.” I speak softly, conscious of the ears listening to our conversation, wishing for only him to hear me. “But I’m hoping you’ll rectify this problem.”

Nate’s lips lift, his pale gray eyes glimmering with unspoken promises. “I’ll add it to our list.” He guides me into his office and closes the door behind me.

A table for two has been set up in front of the windows. “Is this the best seat in the house?” I tease. The tablecloth and china plates are pure white, the silverware shines, the crystal wineglasses sparkle, and the electric candlesticks flicker.

“Our meals will arrive soon.” Nate takes my left hand, lifts it to his lips. “I thought we’d talk first.” He turns my hand and presses a kiss into the center of my palm. My fingers tremble. “Get to know each other more.”

He’s opening all of his doors to me. “
Or
we could negotiate first.” My voice is husky. “And then have wild crazy make-up sex.” I press my body against his, giving him the contact I know he craves.

Nate hardens, his eyes darkening. “Camille.” He slides his hands down my back, leaving a trail of decadent sensation.

“We should talk first.” I tear myself away from his sexy physique. He needs the structure of our agreement as much as he needs my touch. “I amended our contract.” I wave the papers.

“I asked you to shred that damn thing.” My sexy executive scowls. “You’re not my whore; you never were, and I won’t tolerate anyone insulting you, hurting you.”

“Good.” I saunter to the guest chair, swaying my hips. “Because I hurt myself enough as it is.” I lift my right foot, showing him my sole.

“What did you do?” He rushes toward me. “You’re bleeding.” He drops to his knees, carefully encircles my ankle with his fingers and examines my foot. “Sit,” he commands, his voice allowing no refusal.

I sit down, bemused. He strides to the small bar fridge near his desk, extracts a bottle of water, and returns to my side. “There’s a reason our dress code requires shoes,” he grumbles, wetting his handkerchief. “I’ll ask Gladys to buy you some flip-flops. Until then you aren’t walking anywhere.”

“How will I get around?” I smile, his overreaction confirming my suspicions. He loves me. He must. “Will you carry me wherever I want to go?”

“Yes, I’ll carry you.” Nate carefully dabs the soft white cotton over my skin, his blond head bent, his gaze focused on his task, on me. “And I’ll take care of you.”

“Because you love me.” I say the words he won’t.

“I don’t know if I love you.” Nate turns his attention to my left foot, his touch gentle and caring. “Because I don’t know what love is,” my brutally honest executive confesses. “I’ve never felt like this before. When you’re hurt I want to kill whoever caused you pain. When you’re sad I want to hold you. When you’re disappointed I want to fix the problem.”

“Like you fixed my project issues, lining up the mentors for me.” I pet his perfect hair, the strands short and silky. “What else do you feel?” I push him for more, needing to be certain, to have no lingering doubts.

Nate gazes up at me, his eyes gleaming. “All you have to do is look at me and I feel powerful and alive, as though there’s nothing I can’t do. My world is warmer, brighter, filled with joy and laughter. I belong as I’ve never belonged before.”

“You fit.” My voice cracks. He nods. “That’s love, Nate.” I smooth his eyebrows. “That’s how I feel about you.”

He neatly folds his handkerchief, the white square now black with dirt, and places the fabric on a corner of his desk. “Expressing love isn’t a Lawford strength.” Nate’s lips flatten. “I don’t know how to be the man you deserve.” He cups my bare knees, his palms rough and warm. “I don’t know how to earn the right to someday be your husband.”

He wants to marry me. I struggle to control my emotions. “That’s why we need an agreement.” I hand him the contract. “It’s merely a place to start. If a clause doesn’t work for us we’ll amend the agreement, try something different.”

Nate stands and leans back against the desk. He fans the paper once, twice, three times, the pages fluttering. Silence stretches and anxiety builds within me.

“You eliminated the per diem payment,” he finally says. “Good. We don’t need that clause. I’ll always take care of you, Camille.”

I can take care of myself. I open my mouth to protest.

“Because I want to take care of you,” Nate adds. “Forever.” His gaze meets mine. “I require forever, Camille. You’re the type of woman a man, once he loves, will never be able to release.”

He wants forever. This is how much he loves me. “Those are my terms also.” Emotion chokes my words.

“Then we have a deal.” Nate turns to the desk, unclips my pen, flips to the last page, and signs our agreement, scrawling his name across the white linen paper.

“You should read the contract first, know what you’re signing,” I advise.

“I trust you.” Nate faces me, leaving the contract on the desk. “And I love you. I’ll read it later, learn how to care for you properly.” The desire in his eyes curls my bare toes.

“I’m sorry I gave you the finger.” My chest tightens with love, with need.

“You have no reason to be sorry. You warned me if I ever disappointed you, you’d give me the finger and curse me out.” Nate’s lips lift. “And you did exactly what you promised. You were so angry, so passionate, so unbelievably sexy. I was hard as a rock all morning.”

I drop my gaze. His erection strains against the fabric of his dress pants, the visible proof of his passion drying my mouth. “That must have been uncomfortable during your meetings.” I lick my parched lips.

“Gladys canceled my meetings.” Nate discards his suit jacket, stripping slowly and sensuously, his predatory gaze fixed on my face. “She said I wasn’t acting like myself.” He drops his tie on the carpet.

“Was that the truth?” I unfasten my jacket and peel the leather away from my skin, freeing my breasts.

“No. For the first time in my life I
was
acting like myself.” Nate flicks the top button of his dress shirt, deepening the exposed V at his throat, his skin golden against the crisp white cotton. “But she was right to cancel my meetings. I don’t want anyone else to see me like this. You’re the only person I trust with my soul.”

“You can trust me.” I lower my feet to the carpet and I wince, pain shooting up my legs.

“Try to stand and I’ll paddle your ass,” he warns.

I give him my most seductive smile. “I might like that, big boy.”

“You won’t like it, love.” Nate lifts me easily onto the desk. “I’ll be too angry for make-up sex.” He unzips my skirt. “Too angry to put more dents in my desk.” He pulls on the garment, sliding the soft leather over my legs. “Too angry to fill your tight little pussy.” He skims his fingers over the jewel in my belly button.

“Too angry to love me.” I shimmy out of my panties, the desk cool against my bare ass.

“I’ll never be that angry.” Nate yanks on his shirt. Fabric rips and buttons pop, the plastic disks bouncing on the carpet. “I’ll always love you.” The shredded cotton floats to the floor. “Sit on our agreement, Camille.” His muscles ripple, not an ounce of excess padding on his fit form. “I want it to smell of you.”

I slide the fine linen paper beneath me. “You
are
a kinky bastard, aren’t you?” I wiggle, grinding my scent into the document.

“So I’ve been told.” Nate unzips, discarding his pants and boxer shorts with one hard yank. His cock is hard, his thigh muscles defined. He’s beautiful, male, and mine. My nipples tighten to the point of agony, aching for his touch. “Spread your legs for me. Show me how wet you are.”

“You’re being very bossy today.” I narrow my eyes as I comply, opening my body to his gaze. “I’m not one of your vanilla-sex yes-women, Nate.” I run my hands over my breasts, my stomach, my hips, teasing both of us. “You can’t control me.”

“I’ve noticed that.” He watches me, his eyes dark with desire. “You’re my green-haired hippie, believing in peace and love and freedom.” My naked executive wraps his fingers around his slightly curved cock. A bead of pre-cum forms on his tip. “You’re fearless, strong, defiant.” He lowers his gaze to my feet and scowls. “Even when you’re hurt.”

“You’re clever, solid, steadfast, and I need you.” I gaze at him with all of the lust in my heart, telling him with my eyes what I want to do to him, how I want to lick every inch of his skin, suck on his flat nipples, take him deep inside me, find release in his arms.

He groans. “Look at me that way again and I’ll come.”

“You’ll come when I give you permission to come, Nate.” A sexy sense of power fills me. I spread my thighs wider, giving him a clear view of my cleanly shaven mons, my pink pussy lips, my empty entrance. “And you won’t come one moment sooner.” I strum my fingertips over my wetness, the flames of my desire burning, scorching me inside and out. “Touch yourself. Prepare yourself for my pussy.”

“I’m always prepared for your snug little pussy.” Nate tightens his grip on his shaft. “And I see you’re ready for me.” He strokes his cock, pumping up and down, up and down, his tempo matching mine. “You glisten with sweetness and smell delicious.” His nostrils flare. “Ripe and womanly.”

“Your pillow talk is improving, love.” I circle my clit, winding my arousal around my body. We touch and tease our bodies, watching, wanting, waiting, prolonging this moment, wishing it would last forever. I drop my head back, my hair cascading over my shoulders, the tendrils caressing my skin.

“You’re beautiful.” Nate’s eyes flash, bolts of light illuminating storm clouds. “And you’re mine.” He moves between my legs, stroking my calves, knees, thighs, setting off tremors of delight. “To love forever.” His cock head brushes my clit and I quiver.

“Fill me, Nate.” I undulate on top of the desk, calling to him with my body.