Never Forgotten: Second Chances (12 page)

He turned and kissed her cheek. "He'd go for it if you presented it correctly. In the meantime, you have to think about what outcome you want for you."

Megan looked at him, realizing that she didn't know what she wanted. Suddenly the question seemed daunting, and that bothered her. It bothered her more than knowing despite how much she like Riley, she couldn't imagine his vacation life. Living, to her, was not being on vacation enjoying the feeling of sand between her toes. It made her aware that the role she saw him in, as a mover and shaker in the business world, was part of his strong attraction. That it might mean less to him unsettled her a bit.

She forced her uncertainties and conflicts out of her head. She'd seen a new aspect of him; that was all. Somehow it would fit in with the man she was getting to know. As you learned about someone, you had to let your feelings resolve themselves. You couldn't force them, couldn't make people fit in such narrow boxes. If this side of Riley was serious and bothered her, then she'd have to deal with that.

As she considered all this, he stood up and coaxed her back into his bed, telling her all the delicious things he wanted to do to her and with her, she knew that this part of their relationship couldn't be any better.

* * * *

Sunday morning they woke early with Riley taking her in his arms and pulled her over him. As her naked body sprawled across his, she found that he was aroused. "Lovely," she said as took his hard shaft in her hand. He kissed her and fondled her breasts as she stroked him, heating him up further. She turned her head, resting it on his chest and looking down at his beautiful erect cock. Then, knowing she'd better not wait, she rolled over and took a condom from the nightstand, opened the package and moved back over to him. She took his cock in her hand again, stroking gently, then kissed it before rolling the condom down from its beautiful bulbous head.

When he was sheathed, he pushed her onto her stomach beside him. He rose up and for a moment ran his hands over her back, rubbing, touching, and sending tremors of pleasure racing through her. Then, before she knew what was happening, he was face down on top of her, sliding his body down hers until he was between her legs. His hands roamed over her bare ass, squeezing and tracing its lines, then he kissed one ass cheek and then the other. She gave herself to it, and when he lifted her hips, she settled on her knees picturing how that position opened her up to his gaze, let him see her ass and pussy in a welcoming posture. She gasped at the sudden abrasive touch of the stubble on his cheeks brushing against the soft flesh her thighs. His tongue flicked along the cleft of her pussy. With her head spinning, she clenched the sheets and felt her mouth coming open, she could taste the dry fabric of the sheets as he began to devour her, holding her legs and working his tongue over and into her furiously, setting her on fire. One hand slipped from her leg and moved close, and she trembled when he inserted several fingers into her as he licked and kissed her ass cheeks and then nipped at the flesh while he finger fucked her.

She rode the tide of sensations his mouth and hands unleashed and came with an explosive cry that blended joy and the despair that comes with a total and complete loss of control. Riley was in charge, and as she felt her body melt down from his touch, his fingers left her. He moved, bringing that hard cock to the spot she truly wanted it. The huge glans spread her pussy open, and he drove it into her, penetrating her, taking possession of her body. His hands held her hips captive, keeping them from moving as he filled her with his cock. She reached back between her legs and touched his scrotum as he pressed his hips into her ass. She gently cradled his balls, and then he slowly withdrew, backing out of her and then slamming into her hard. She buried her face in the sheets and pressed back to meet his thrusts. He took her hard, rocking the bed with each stroke of his hot, thick rod in her, and she sighed happily as he buried it in her.

When he came, they collapsed in a heap. He slid off her, shed the condom, then draped an arm and leg over her, and they slept again for a time.

She woke to find him staring at her face, and the look of pleasure on his face made it glow. Seeing she was awake, he reached up, delicately touching her face and then running one finger over her lips. "Fantastic, that's what you are."

"Thank you, kind sir. You ain't so bad yourself."

"Glad to hear that, because it leads me to a question I want to ask you."

"Before you bother... No, I don't do group sex. I think one on one is more my style."

He laughed. "Actually the question was more about a long-term proposition. And as much as I enjoy negotiating and building up to a pitch, I'm going to cut to the bottom line. Megan, will you marry me?"

The question caught her off guard and unprepared. "I hadn't considered..."

"I know. It's sudden and unexpected. So just consider this offer. Hell, it's more of a desire than an offer, isn't it? I want you to be with me all the time, and that seems a practical way to get that. I know you like practical."

He tried to make it lighthearted, but the seriousness of his intentions showed in the tension she saw in his face, in his body. "Of course, I'll consider it Riley. I'll need time, though, not just because you just dropped a bombshell on me but because I'd more or less decided that marriage and I weren't good companions."

"Really?"

"Obviously I'm reevaluating that idea and wondering if it's more as the romantics say that it depends on the man." She touched a nail to his chest and drew a circle. "I love being with you. I love the way you make love to me. You are a wonderful person, and I can see myself spending a great deal of time with you in and out of bed. And there is no one else I want to be with. I just don't know if that's enough to make things work." She kissed him. "It's early days, Riley. You might tire of me."

"I can't see that happening."

"No. You wouldn't propose to me if you could see that, and that's where the problem and dangers lie—in what we don't see."

"Being so cautious isn't how you've run your life. If you used that as a guide, you'd never do anything at all."

"That's true. Sooner or later, we gamble on these things and find out how they play out or let them pass away and never know. But trying to make that decision with so much else going on is not a good idea. Let's deal with the immediate problem, the business, and then I promise to give you an answer to this very personal question."

He put his mouth over one of her nipples and teased it, holding it in his teeth and letting his tongue assault it. She put her hand behind his head, enjoying even the way he played. When he let go of her nipple, he took it between two fingers. "Learning how a future with you plays out would be an adventure of its own."

She ran her hand down his chest, over his flat stomach and found that his cock was returning to life. Her fingers wrapped around it, feeling it swell and finding pleasure in the idea that her touch could arouse him. "I'll think about it Riley, but I don't know. I have a question for you. If my answer is no, would that be the end of this?"

He looked stunned. "Hell no. When it comes to Megan Cross, I will take as much as I can get."

She kissed him. "Good answer, Riley. And good answers deserve a reward."

"A reward?"

"After which you will fix me another of your excellent breakfasts?"

"I'll happily make you breakfast every morning for the rest of your life if you'll let me. With or without marriage."

She turned and brought her mouth to his cock and kissed it. The sound of his soft moan floated on her ears happily, and she wet his glans with her tongue, then opened her mouth and took his shaft inside, using her tongue and eager to have him come in her mouth. She wanted to please him and distract him. Talking more about marriage right then wasn't going to simplify anything, and she wanted just to enjoy the rest of the weekend with him. She felt his hands on the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as she sucked him, working him up into a frenzy until he exploded, and she choked on the thick surge of his creamy seed that he shot into her mouth.

When he was done, she smiled up at him, and he used a finger to softly wipe the cum from her cheek.

Her Monday morning was full. She left Riley's, apartment early, to go home and change clothes, and then went straight to her office, her desk. She sat down and planned her day over her beloved coffee, made phone calls, and then, around ten, managed to catch Craig coming into the office. "I need to talk to you."

When he was sitting in her office, she explained Striker's offer.

"The bastard wants to scoop up my program."

"Yes, he does. Of course, he might also want to provide you with the resources to create many more, and he'd take over the business problems. No more money hassles, and you'd have money in the bank. That would please Crystal."

"Are you saying we should take his offer?"

"No. But it is a good offer from a financial point of view, and I'm letting you know about it so that you can tell me what you want. I still think we can find an investor and do things our way."

"Would some other investor be better?"

"No necessarily, but if we keep a majority of the stock we won't care if he isn't."

One eyebrow lifted. "I see, I think. Okay. I'm good with that."

"If we don't see any interest this week, we can go back to Striker and see if his offer is real and still on the table."

His head was already somewhere else. "I'll leave that to you then." Craig shuffled out, leaving Megan to wonder if she really understood what he wanted. Riley and Striker both seemed to think that Craig would actually be happier in the role of employee. After hearing his endless complaints about the stupidity of employers, she'd assumed he wanted to own the company. But Riley was right about him not taking much advantage of being the boss, or at least one of them.

After Craig had left her office she sat considering the few options available. So far there was no sign of an investor. Not a serious one. As much as selling out to Striker was distasteful, it wouldn't be a total failure. After all, they would have built something he was willing to pay for. A strong person didn't take the easiest option, or the one that seemed most palatable, but the best one for the outcome you wanted. That was how they accumulated power.

What outcome did she want?
Working for a large corporation had taught her the futility, the wasted effort that went into the consensus building of the corporate environment. It wasn't her style. She could be a team player, as long she worked with strong people. Sal had taught her that about herself too, let her come to see that she'd rather be the agent of a powerful dictator than the head of any committee. She preferred action to political lobbying. Better to live and die by your own decisions than waste away at the whim of a consensus of the weak. In a sense, that made Striker's offer more palatable, if not pleasant, for her. Working for him she would have power, the ability to make decisions.

Would that be fulfilling? Doubt rippled through her. The current options didn't appeal to her, and she couldn't wait on Riley to find something. She picked up the phone and began making calls. Today, right now, she would contact everyone she could think of who might have the resources to help in some way. Not necessarily investing, but something. She was opening doors. By the end of the day she'd heard dozens of sad voices, many excuses, and sadder stories, and arranged three meetings for the next day. She had until Friday to book something solid.

It was dark when she went home. She cooked a simple stir fry and ate it in the dark, sensing that the troubles, the doubts, the stress, seemed to be evoking Sal's memories again. Why wasn't it Riley she thought of? Why wasn't she imagining herself traveling with him instead of sitting there wondering what happened to Sal, why he'd disappeared and where he'd gone. Why had his father sold his business,
Il fattore eleganza,
"the elegant factor" when he knew Sal was on his way home to take it over?

Where had Sal gone?

* * * *

Megan sat in Riley's office at his old leather-covered mahogany conference table. The table suited the office perfectly. The office suited Riley perfectly. He was a fascinating and precise creation that appealed to the people he wished to appeal to and rebuffed others. She was drawn to the comfort, the security of his creation. It seemed ironic that he was talking about marrying and leaving all that behind, to move to something new. This was a large part of his attraction, the person he was. If he quit working, who would he be then? Who would she be if she walked away from Diamond Software? She was used to going to things, not walking away.

Ever since the mistake she'd made by marrying Craig, of letting herself confuse not wanting to be alone with a real desire to share her life with someone, she'd become cynical. But had she gotten too cynical? Was there a perfect man, or just a best one? Craig had been an unfortunate choice. He was a decent person, but the things he valued, the life he wanted was too different from hers. That had been a reaction. After sharing a dream so intimately and then losing her partner, and nearly losing herself, she had become wary of such an intense sharing. At the time, Craig had his own goals, a separate life, and that had seemed like a good thing. Ultimately, it pushed them apart.

Riley confused her. He'd developed a clear idea of who he wanted to become, and he conveyed that to the people around him. There was an attraction in the spell he wove that she found seductive. He wove spells, created illusions, but everyone did that one way or another. Riley simply did it with a precise awareness of what he was doing and did it to make certain he was seen as he wished to be seen. There was no duplicity or malice in it. He simply gave careful thought as to how his audience would respond to his words, his choice of tie, or a wife, for that matter. His acute awareness that all of those things said something about him meant that nothing was excluded from the cohesive picture he painted for the world. The artifice of it didn't seem to matter, either to him or to anyone else. And now he was talking, at least, about walking away from that entirely.