Chapter 5
Normally, I had no trouble falling asleep, even in hotels. My time as a Navy Seal had taught me how to gain complete command of my body. Missions often required that we function optimally on little to no sleep at all. So when we had the rare opportunity to rest, we did so immediately. I could fall sleep anywhere at any time, even standing up. We were trained to wake fully rested even after only 30 minutes rest.
But, for the first time in a very long time, I’d had trouble falling asleep. Images of a certain green-eyed tempest interrupted my thoughts at every turn. The elevator scene kept playing over in my mind. Meditation hadn’t helped. She had been so responsive, so seductive and confident. It had made my blood sear with hunger. I was a man used to being in complete control but had lost it when she had flipped the tables and been the aggressor.
No woman had ever made me feel such an intense hunger. I’d had to take her right there in the elevator. My body responded to the memories of the feel and taste of her. With a hard-on the size of Nantucket, I threw back the covers and headed for the shower. Turning the handles all the way to the right, I forced myself to stand under the icy-cold spray. But even the frigid temperature of the water could do nothing to tame my erection.
I couldn’t afford to be distracted today. Too much money was at stake. Taking matters into my own hands, I quickly jacked off to fantasies of Angel, of her delicious mouth on my cock and then bending her over and taking her from behind. My release was quick and not nearly as satisfying, but it would be enough to get me through the meetings this weekend.
Toweling off quickly, I dressed in a sharp steel gray three-piece suit. Aughton Securities was a very selective client out of the U.K. They typically only did business with other European firms. But a few months ago word had leaked that the owner and CEO, Michael Sheffield, had ideas about expanding across the Atlantic. I had quickly capitalized on this nugget of intel and sent over an in-depth proposal of how a contract between our companies could be mutually beneficial and quite lucrative. It had been well received, and Sheffield himself had requested a face to face meeting.
We were set to meet this morning at 9 am sharp. That gave me about an hour to review my notes and the draft proposal one more time before heading down to the conference center. I ordered a pot of coffee from room service and set to work.
Based on the information I could pull together, Sheffield was a self-made billionaire like myself. A sheep farmer’s son with royal blood, he had been the first in his family to attend a university. He had started Aughton Securities from the ground up. I could respect that. It also gave me some common ground to build a rapport with him. He was also a member of the Welsh Parliament. They took their positions of government very seriously overseas. He seemed to keep his private life private. Not much was said about his family other than he has been married to the same woman for 35 years and they have one adult child together.
The background information listed his right-hand man as Alistair Todwick, VP of Defense Operations. Son of Archibald and Ingrid Todwick, Alistair came from old money. His family had been in the shipping business for over a 100 years. In his picture, he looked as pretentious as his named sounded. He had a slim aristocratic nose, thin lips, and blonde hair that was perfectly swept back over a narrow forehead. He looked soft. It said here he attended Cambridge, as generations of Todwicks had before him, majoring in business. I would bet my last dollar that it was the Todwick name rather than his merits that had gotten him into the exclusive English University. Aside from his education he also listed his hobbies polo, sailing, and wine tasting. Hell, he sounded soft.
My gut told me that Michael Sheffield would be shrewd in the contract negotiations, but I could see Alistair giving me trouble as well. Not in the same way, though. I was not intimidated by his pedigree, but it was my typical experience that those who came across as pompous and arrogant, liked to believe they had much to offer. Far more than they actually did. Loving to hear themselves talk, he would more than likely try to throw his weight, a.k.a. pedigree and financial status around. Nothing fruitful ever came from these diatribes. In fact, it typically led to lengthy delays and sometimes even killed the contracts before they even got started. But I knew how to handle him.
I had done my research, and my proposal was sound. As long as I could minimize Alistair’s blustering, I was confident that I would have the contract in hand by the end of the weekend. Glancing at my Rolex, I noted that it was now 15 minutes until 9 o’clock. Collecting my things, I headed down to the board room we had specially reserved for this meeting.
I had hoped to be the first to arrive in the room. It helped to establish dominance in these meetings, but as I opened the door, I realized someone had already beaten me there. At the far end of the table a laptop, legal pad, and papers were spread out on the conference table. They hadn’t claimed the head of the table, so I just assumed it was Alistair. I glanced around, but I did not see him or anyone else in the room. I quickly claimed the head of the table at the other end. I heard the sound of water running and a hand dryer as I opened my laptop. There was a door tucked away in the far corner of the boardroom that must lead to the private washroom.
I stood up quickly as the door opened, prepared to introduce myself. Only, I wasn’t prepared for who stepped out of the washroom. Instead of the fair haired, fair skinned Alistair, a familiar green-eyed beauty stepped forward.
Dressed smartly in a well-tailored suit, her long brown hair twisted into a complicated chignon, ‘Angel’ stood before me. Judging by the expression on her face, she was just as shocked to see me as I was her. Her green eyes were as wide as saucers and her mouth had dropped open in a little ‘o’ of surprise.
Recovering first, I quickly asked, “Angel? What are you doing here?”
Before she could respond, the conference room door opened and in walked Michael Sheffield and Alistair Todwick. My questions would have to wait. It was game time.