Made to Love (6 page)

Nathan

I took my last shot, thankful that the game
had come to a close.

The sun had begun to set, and I was feeling
agitated.  The day was practically gone, and I was no further along in my plans
due to my father’s demand that I be the fourth man on his team.  I hated golf,
but it was something I was very good at.  And Dad liked to win.  The fact that
he was the host of this party, and therefore should graciously allow someone
else a victory, would never occur to him.

So it was that I found myself hastily throwing my clubs in the
back of the golf cart and speeding my way back to the house.  I had had
definite plans for this weekend, and spending half of it with my father, making
him look good, hadn’t been part of them.  I needed to get inside for a quick
shower and then find Miss Andrews.  Pronto.

I parked the cart at the front of the house,
knowing there was less chance of being detained by some overeager party guest
these things were always rife with.  I headed inside and up the stairs,
rounding the corner to one of the main bathrooms, when I felt a body crash into
mine. 

A female body.

A soft, female body.

“Oh!  I’m sorry,” Reagan breathed, her hands
coming up to stop herself, and resting on my chest.

I stared down at those hands, wondering why
they were still there, and praying to God she wouldn’t move them.  Even though
I was already hot and sticky from being outside in the sun all day, her touch
felt scorching and I struggled to breathe.

This was truly ridiculous.  Never had I
experienced such an overwhelming wave of desire. 

What was I?  A pre-pubescent teen?

I looked up into her face and found her eyes,
big and round, were watching me. 

“It was my fault,” I answered.  Why I was
whispering, I had no idea.  There wasn’t anyone around.

Reagan, as if finally realizing her hands
were still clutching my chest, dropped them and took a small step away. 

Damn.

We continued to stare at each other for the
briefest of moments, before she nervously looked away and tucked a lock of hair
back behind her ear.  She swallowed, and I watched her throat move, wondering
what her skin tasted like.  I imagined my tongue following the curve of her
throat, before sucking the tender spot just below her ear.

Double damn. 

The tension was palpable, and I reached out
to brush away that lock of hair, that had fallen back across her forehead once
again.  When she closed her eyes, visibly moved by my touch, I knew it had to
be now.

Without warning, or giving her a chance to
protest, I tugged her against me, one arm snaking around her waist to hold her
secure, and placing my other hand at the back of her head as I angled her to my
mouth. 

Any trace of doubt I may have had about
kissing her in my parent’s hallway was dispelled the minute her arms wrapped
around my neck and a soft moan escaped her throat as she opened her lips to my
exploring tongue.

It was then I knew I had her.

Reagan

I had been kissed before.  Some welcomed,
others unwanted.

None had been like this one.

I couldn’t have stopped it had I even been
given a chance to try.  It had happened fast;
he
was fast. But the
second his lips connected with mine, all coherent thoughts of stopping fled and
were replaced by an overwhelming urge to divest him of the annoying shirt that
prevented my hands from feeling his heated skin.  Every nerve in my body was on
alert as his hand on my waist slid up.  I tensed slightly, hoping he would not
wrap himself around my arms, but he continued on until both hands gently cupped
my face. 

Which he tilted slightly to deepen the kiss,
his tongue exploring every crevice before he pulled gently on my bottom lip
with his teeth. 

My knees threatened to give out, but I was
saved that humiliation when he suddenly reached down, cupped my ass and lifted
me up against the wall.  My legs immediately wrapped around his waist, as our
kiss changed.  Nathan became predator and I was his prey, his mouth moving over
mine, demanding. . .taking.   The heat between my legs burned, and I was
restless, moving against him, no longer caring that he was technically my boss
and this was wrong on so many levels.  My only concern was that I needed him
inside me.  Now.   I raked my nails across his back as I sucked his earlobe
into my mouth. 

Nathan growled low in his throat.  “Shit .
.baby—“  He stopped, his breath coming in heavy gasps as he kissed and sucked
along my neck.  He reached down between us, where my sundress had ridden up
around my waist and didn’t hesitate as he slid my panties to the side and slid
two fingers into me, my body already wet and pulsing in frenzied anticipation. 
I was going to go fast.

I moaned, unable to stop the tremors coursing
through my body as his hand moved, curling and stroking inside me.  We were no
longer kissing, and his head lay buried in my neck, his breath hot against my
skin.  All too quickly, I felt my body tense and then explode, my legs
tightening around him as I came against his hand.  Nathan swallowed my scream
with his mouth as he withdrew his hand and slid both palms around inside my
panties and squeezed my bare ass.  He continued to kiss me, softly, gently
nipping as my orgasm faded and my legs unlocked and fell limply to the floor. 

He pulled my head to him and I buried my face
in his chest, smelling sweat, aftershave and that distinct smell that is all
male.  His heart thudded rapidly and loudly against my cheek as I stood there,
suddenly overwhelmed with the magnitude of what had just happened. 

What am I doing?

My heart was pounding so loudly it was a
miracle I heard anything over it, but voices on the stairwell interrupted the moment,
and Nathan quickly straightened up and away from me.  He stared at me without
speaking a few seconds, and then leaned down and whispered in my ear.  “Until
next time.”  He kissed my cheek and turned to walk away just as another couple
appeared in the hall, clearly looking for a room to fuck in, given the fact
that he was carrying her on his back and she had her tongue in his ear and her
hands down the front of his shirt.  Grateful they appeared entirely focused on
getting in each other’s pants and not me, I took the opportunity to make a
quick exit and ran on shaky legs downstairs and back outside. 

My thoughts scrambled to find focus as I
grabbed a drink from first waiter that passed.  Gulping the contents down, the
alcohol burned its way to the pit of my stomach as I hastily scanned the crowd
for Brooke.   I had no idea what I was going to say to her once I found her,
and knew I needed to calm the hell down before I did, but seriously?  I had
just been thoroughly finger fucked by Nathan Preston.

Against a wall, in a hallway, no less. 

It seemed surreal.  As if it hadn’t
happened.  Yet, the tenderness and slight ache between my thighs proved
otherwise. 

I reached a hand to my cheek in a panic.  Did
I have whisker burn?  Were my lips swollen?  Dear God, what about my hair?  The
last thing I wanted was for Brooke to suspect anything, yet here I was walking
around in a daze and probably looking like I’d just rolled out of my lover’s
bed after a three-day romp.  Clearly, I wasn’t thinking.

Obviously, I couldn’t allow it to happen
again.  I had been employed at Elite for three days.  Hopping into bed with him
would be career suicide.  I wasn’t completely naïve to the ways of the world. 
This wasn’t high school.  This wasn’t a booty call with the quarterback, or
some random one night stand picked up from the bar.  This was Nathan, the CEO’s
son, rich, handsome, and who could undoubtedly have his pick of women at any
given time.  This was me, trying to make a go of it on my own in the ‘big
world’.   I had probably caught his attention because I was new.  I definitely
didn’t want my life under a corporate microscope simply because my panties
dropped the first time a Wall Street suit smiled my way.

I needed to get myself and this obvious
attraction to Nathan under control.  I downed my drink, and smoothed my hair as
I mentally resolved that the last ten minutes of my life, no matter how
delicious, could never be repeated.

“Reagan, there you are; I’ve been looking for
you,” Brooke called from behind me, as I whipped around, thankful to finally
see her.

“You have?  I’ve been right here,” I said
realizing my voice was an octave higher than it usually was.  She didn’t seem
to notice.

“No biggie.  I was thinking about going up to
my room for a bit.  There is apparently a fireworks display planned later
tonight.  Figured I would try and get some R&R before then,” Brooke
suggested.  

“I think I will, too” I said quickly, hoping
Nathan wasn’t making the rounds to find me.  Hiding out in my room sounded
heavenly. 

“Are you ok?” Brooke asked, looking at me out
of the corner of her eye as we made our way to our rooms. 

I nodded.  “Of course.  I think I’m just a
little tired.  Too much work last night kept me up,” I lied.  “Come get me in
an hour?”

I entered my room and shut the door before
she had a chance to say more.  I realized I wasn’t exactly being subtle, but I
needed to take a minute and think. 

And to mentally prepare myself for the next
time I would see Nathan.

Nathan

I ordered bourbon on the rocks, as I leaned
on the bar, facing the party that was well underway.  I lazily watched several
socialites take to the tiled area reserved for dancing, too many cocktails
impairing their balance, but providing some fun entertainment to those
watching.   Realizing I knew one of them from a sexy little weekend romp last
summer, and that she was now eyeing me with a ‘come hither’ grin as she
sashayed drunkenly across the tile, I hastily turned back to the bar to nurse
my drink. 

I felt unsettled.  Kissing Reagan had been bold,
but inevitable.  After all, getting the woman in my bed wasn’t going to happen
if I never touched her.  And the whole point of her being here this weekend was
to make some headway into my plan. 

I hadn’t expected the toe curling though.

I’d kissed countless women.  Some had no idea
what to do and were rather clumsy in their attempts to seduce me with their
mouths.  Others were so skilled they knew just when to suck, to nip, and when
to bite hard. 

Reagan was none of these. 

It was obvious this wasn’t her first walk in
the park, and I wasn’t dealing with some virginal prude who crossed herself
every time a man looked at her sideways.   And yet, when kissing her I had
tasted innocence, as if she was completely unaware of the sexuality she
radiated.  As if she had no idea what she did to me simply by being in the same
room.  It had been like a breath of fresh air.  I had felt that innocence down
to my toes.  All of which had curled . . . well, figuratively, if not
literally.
                I’d had her against the wall with my fingers inside her before
I’d really realized what I was doing.  And that had scared the hell out of me. 
I didn’t lose control or all rational thought with a woman.  Ever.  I never
made a move that wasn’t calculated and meticulously planned out.  The fact that
merely kissing Reagan had messed with my head that much terrified me. 

But at that point, I hadn’t been able to
stop.  She was soaking wet, hot and welcoming as I’d slid my fingers into her
depths.  She’d come fast and hard, jerking against my hand, and I’d almost came
with her, standing in the hallway fully clothed.  Had we not been interrupted
by a couple who at least showed more sense than we did by finding their room
first, I didn’t doubt I would’ve dropped my pants and been inside her again,
consequences be damned.

I was fucking hopeless. 
                The thought brought with it a renewed resolve to solidify the
plan I had set forth.  I had to get this woman out of my system with all haste.

I hadn’t seen her since her rapid flight from
my arms well over an hour ago, but had confirmed with several staff that her
room had not been vacated.  So she was still here and would have to come down
eventually.  I would wait.  I was a patient man.

At least, I pretended to be.

I winced as I heard my mother’s shrill laugh
from somewhere to my left.  I was saved from having to dwell too long on that
unpleasant subject, by an elbow to the ribs.

“Nathan, buddy, how are you,” the voice, and
elbow, belonged to Tyler Winston, both business associate and family friend. 

I turned and smiled, hoping that his visit
was brief.  I did not want to be preoccupied when Miss. Flighty chose to make
her reappearance.  “Tyler, good to see you.  Enjoying the party?” I asked.

Tyler grinned and nodded.  “Always.  Just
trying to figure out which one, or three, of these lucky ladies gets to
accompany me back to my hotel.  You know I like to share the wealth,” Tyler
laughed loudly as he clapped me on the back.  I raised an eyebrow as I drained
the rest of my glass.  I would blame his crude comment on too much alcohol, but
sadly that wasn’t the case.  Tyler Winston was, in every sense of the word, a
player.  And when he spoke of things like ‘sharing the wealth’, he was not
talking about money.   As crass as he was, the women seemed to like him and I
had no doubt he would indeed leave tonight with no less than the three women he
planned on. 

“I actually already had my eye on someone,
but seem to have lost her in the mix.”  He craned his neck, scanning the
crowd.  “Rumor has it she’s new; Isaac’s team,” Tyler continued. 

He had my full attention. 

I’ll be damned. 

I stood straighter, and nodded to the
bartender for another drink.   “Ah yes, the new girl.  Seems I heard she’s
spoken for.”  I shrugged apologetically.

                Tyler threw me a knowing glance.  “Already
struck out, huh?”  If he only knew.  I kept silent, clenching my jaw as my
anger at his condescending tone grew.  Anger that was irrational, but there all
the same.   “That’s too bad, buddy.  She is freaking hot!  I might have to sniff
that out anyhow to see just how serious this spoken for thing really is.” That
he truly believed he would succeed in any area I had failed made me rethink our
acquaintance. 

                I took a calming breath and changed the
subject before I did anything rash.  “I saw the contracts for Nevada.  They
look good.  You’ll be flying out this week right?”  If he wasn’t, he would be,
I determined.  

                Thankfully Tyler turned his focus from his
dick to business. “Yeah, Wednesday morning.  We should be breaking some ground
on Friday.” Tyler explained.

                I brought up more work, keeping him engaged until
I was satisfied he was done thinking about Reagan.  Still no sign of her.  I
had a feeling it was about to be a long night. 

                I pushed back my keyboard and stared aimlessly
out my office window, as I replayed the events of the weekend in my mind.  My
conversation with Tyler Winston had been interrupted by the arrival of my
mother on the dance floor.  Her weaving in and out amongst the other dancers
had been innocent enough, until she’d knocked into a passing waiter, sending an
entire tray of cocktails all over herself and the unfortunate man who had been
carrying them. 

                It was then that I caught the angry stride of
Dad from near the back of the house as he stalked toward her.  Appearances were
everything to my father –everything—and it was best I intercept before he
reached her.  He’d just get her inside and berate her for her carelessness,
which would do nothing but drive her to look for any of the countless bottles
she had stashed away throughout the house.  I’d made my excuses to Tyler and
reached Mom just as she was realizing she was wearing the dress of her dreams: 
one soaked in alcohol.  I grasped the arm which she’d drunkenly began to raise
to her mouth, and pasting a smile on my face, guided her inside.  The party was
already back in full swing as if nothing had occurred.  For all my Dad’s
attempts to maintain dignity in the Preston name, people were not idiots, and
Mom’s alcoholism, though never spoken of, was common knowledge. 

                The next several hours of my evening had been
spent ensuring my mother’s comfort as I listened to her rail on and on about
the events that had transpired two years ago.  Which led to incoherent
ramblings about my father, past mistakes and a lifetime of regrets.  All things
I had heard countless times and could probably recite with her. 

                By the time I had made my way back downstairs
and outside, the majority of the party guests had either retired to their rooms
or left the house altogether.  I tipped my head at Tyler as he’d passed by with
a bevy of women on his arm, giving me a two-fingered wave of victory.  Reagan
had been nowhere in sight and if she’d returned to the party in my absence, she
was gone now.  I’d spend a restless night in my old room, resisting the urge to
seek her out in the night, promising myself that I would make my next move over
brunch the following morning. 

                But she’d left to head back to the city before
I’d woken up and I hadn’t gotten the chance. 

And yesterday, I’d been tied up in bullshit meetings all day
and hadn’t had a minute to myself until well after seven.  I had decided not to
tip my hand and squelched the urge to seek her out then.  She’d probably left
for home at that hour, anyway, and while I supposed I had a justifiable reason
to see her—it wasn’t every day that I brought a woman to orgasm and she fled
the scene; in fact she could be the first—I figured I’d play it safe and stay
away.

                For now.

                But today was a new day.  And I knew she was
somewhere in this building.  Before the day was out, I intended to see her and
find out where she stood on this whole kiss and run thing.

                Turning to pick up the phone to begin my plans
to do just that, I looked up as my father barged into my office.   “Nathaniel,”
he said, by way of greeting.   He stood in front of my desk, arms folded, staring
down at me as if we were at some sort of standoff.  

                Not in the mood for his latest lecture or
tirade, I leaned back in my chair and sighed.   “What is it?” I asked. 

                “I’m thinking about going to Tokyo the end of
this week,” he answered. 
 
“I should only be gone a week or two.  I
think it would do Hu Wang some good to meet face to face. ”

                This was new. 

                It also didn’t escape me the timing of his
sudden need to hotfoot it to Japan.  Next week held an anniversary of sorts,
although it certainly wasn’t a cause for celebration, and I knew he had no
desire to be anywhere near here when that day dawned.  None of us did, but it
seemed my father’s selfishness knew no bounds.   To say it was not a good time
was putting it mildly.

                Of course, I refrained from mentioning it. 
While he had no desire to be here, I had no desire to talk about. 

                I feigned interest in an email on my screen. 
Dad hated when he didn’t have my full attention.  “So are you still thinking
about it, or are you going?” I couldn’t resist the sarcastic jab.

                He cut right to the chase.  “Nathaniel, if you
can’t handle things here you need to tell me now.  I’m not going to come back
to a mess.”

                I wanted to laugh.  The man’s wife, his
marriage, hell—maybe his whole life, was a mess.  And he was more concerned
with leaving me alone for two weeks.  Not out of any great concern for me, mind
you.  No, his concern centered on his greatest love, and that was his money.  As
if I could singlehandedly make him destitute in fourteen days. 

                I clicked through a few more emails, on
purpose, before smiling up at him.  “No, I think we’re good,
Dad.
 I got
this.”

                Dad backed away toward the door.  “Get with
Brooke on the itinerary so you’ll be up to speed if you need anything.  I have
the Johnson and Johnson presentation now.   I’ll touch base later.”

                Johnson and Johnson.  The account Reagan was
assisting with.  How could I have forgotten?  I stood and pulled on my suit
coat.  “Wait up.  I’ll join you,” I quickly said, probably too eager.  But I
hadn’t seen her in three days, and desperate times called for desperate measures.