Chapter Seven
Carson ignored the soft tap on his office door, his focus deep within the code string. If he could just figure out how to—
“Excuse me, Carson.”
He jerked up at the soft voice, head whipping around to stare at his open doorway. His heart skipped, hope and lust urging it into a quickened beat. Avery Fast stood there. A rust-colored wrap dress hugged her curves before it flared at her waist. Her hair was pulled back into a low side-ponytail that allowed the blond ends to curl against the floral scarf wrapped around her neck.
A slow smile spread that he didn’t try to stop. Her posture was tense, lips compressed, but she didn’t look away from him. No, her gaze was direct, almost challenging. Why?
“Yes, Avery?” He kept his voice even.
She glanced back before taking a step into his office. “Do you have a moment?”
A whisper of victory snaked in to tease him. He shut it down and swiveled his chair to give her his full attention. “What can I help you with?”
She came closer, her hands clasped before her. Not submissive really but respectful. Or nervous. She glanced at the visitor chairs before his desk. His suit jacket hung from the back of one of them, but the other was free. She looked back to him, her lips compressing.
She’d avoided him since their meeting three weeks back, and he’d respected that space. Had he created a few reasons to see Gregory? Maybe. But he’d remained professional. She didn’t deserve to be harassed, especially by him.
“Is your offer still open?” Her words were low and quick.
His eyes narrowed, head tilting as he processed her question. The lust kicked in a second later. She didn’t sit nor break eye contact, but that red tinge was spreading over her cheeks to give him his answer. She was referring to their private discussion. He’d almost given up on that.
“Of course,” he said, his expression neutral. “Have you changed your mind?”
Her expression gave away nothing. Standing before him, strong and sure, she displayed a strength that made him want her more. “Yes.” The single word slipped from her lips on a clipped beat.
He slowly stood, slid his hands into his pockets, but stayed where he was. The risk swept in to jack up his adrenaline. Anyone could walk in, but he knew how to play this. Inference and selective wording would gain him what he wanted. And he wanted to show Avery so much. “Are further negotiations needed?”
“A few.”
He glanced behind her. Jean’s desk was still empty. “Such as?”
Her chest rose and fell with her deep breath, but she didn’t fidget. “No one can know who I am.”
“Done.” Names were shared at the participant’s agreement. “What else?”
“Nothing extreme.” Her chin nudged up. “Not—” She clamped her lips tight, flashing a small wince. “I don’t think I want to...actively participate at first.”
At first? The implications behind those two simple words went straight to his dick. Could she really mean that? “So, something close to the original arrangement?”
“Yes.” Relief edged the firm declaration. “Would that be possible?”
“Yes.” He’d make it so.
“Thank you.” She took another deep breath, her knuckles whitening. Her nerves were contained, but they were definitely there. And she was here in spite of them. Her tongue snaked out, a quick flash of pink as it slid over her lip. “So, um...what’s the next step?”
The outer office remained quiet, but he kept his voice low anyway. “I’ll need the results of a recent STI test. It’s a requirement for everyone.” The housekeeping details were annoying yet too important to skip.
Her lip quirked up, a smile hovering. “I ah...” She gave a small shrug. “I got one last week. I can send it to you.”
His brows flicked up before an appreciative smile overtook his surprise. She’d planned ahead. For some damn reason, that made her even more desirable. It also confirmed that she really did want this.
“Are you free tomorrow night?” His instincts told him to act quickly.
“Oh.” She finally glanced away, her gaze going to the view behind him. He was pretty certain she wasn’t actually seeing it. She closed her eyes, opened them. Another wave of determination settled over her when she refocused on him. “Yes.”
He moved around his desk, checking their privacy yet again. He handed her a note pad and pen. “I’ll need a contact number.”
She took the offered items. Her brows lifted in question, but she remained silent. She studied him for a long moment. Her eyes were greener today, the rust of her dress drawing out the softer notes. Another knot of relief untightened in his chest when she finally wrote down her number. It surprised him slightly. He’d never been this invested in a new player.
And he’d never recruited one himself. No, he’d left that to the others.
He’d certainly never brought anyone with him.
He took the items back from her, the patter of victory starting. It could still go very wrong—no, he’d make it work. That was what he did. He figured out what people wanted and gave it to them.
And Avery wanted a show. A long, slow, sensual show that titillated more than displayed.
He ripped off her number, folded it, placed it in his pocket. “I’ll be in touch.” He kept his hand in his pocket to keep from touching her. The flush was high on her cheek, accentuating the bone structure and drawing his eyes to her lips. Full, but not too much with the same pink stain as before. Was that her favorite color? Did she ever change it?
“That’s it?” Her brows rose behind her bangs. “I’m just supposed to wait for your directions?”
“Essentially, yes.” He paused to see if that sent her scrambling. There was no exception to it, even if she did. “You have to trust me, or there’s no point in moving forward.” Which had been one of her issues all along.
The moment stretched. The low hum of the outer office drifted in as a reminder that this wasn’t an office topic.
“All right.” She gave a decisive snap of her head. “I’ll trust you.” A sardonic smile twisted her lips, before she frowned. “But don’t think that trust is blind. Lose it, and it’s gone for good.”
His laughter rumbled up in a low appreciation. “I won’t.” He nodded at Jean as she took a seat at her desk. “You have my word.” He raised his voice then. “Thank you for bringing the information over. I’ll call Gregory if I have any questions.”
Her shoulders snapped back, eyes going wide, but she quickly recovered. “Thank you, Dr. Haggert. I’ll let him know.” She left, pausing to greet his assistant before she moved from his line of sight.
One inhale brought her scent to him, teasing with promises and possibilities. Sex and innocence mixed with a passion he couldn’t wait to expose.
He glanced at the clock, took a quick scan of his calendar. He messaged Trevor through the private Boardroom app he’d developed. Need a coffee?
A reply came back before he could sit. When?
Now. At Marco’s.
I’ll meet you there in ten.
Carson snatched his suit jacket from the back of the chair and slid his private phone into his pocket as he strode from his office. “I’ll be back in thirty,” he told his assistant, not waiting for her acknowledgment. He had arrangements to put into place.
Others contacted him when they wanted his form of guidance during a Boardroom scene. He’d never set one up for himself.
And he still wasn’t. This was for Avery.
The spring warmth hit him when he stepped onto the busy sidewalk. The midday traffic honked its irritation and merged with the construction noise. He dodged slower pedestrians, mostly tourists with large bags and wandering gazes.
Marco’s was a smaller coffee house a few blocks from the Financial District with little signage and zero curb appeal. He absorbed the caffeine hit when he stepped inside, his slow inhale igniting his brain cells by simple anticipation. A glance showed a short line and open tables.
He was sitting at a back table, two cups of coffee waiting when Trevor walked in. His presence got an appreciative glance from the lady by the window and a wave from the barista.
“Haggert,” Trevor greeted him, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he sat. “Is it time for details?”
It took a moment for Carson to follow his question. He frowned. “Not bad ones, no.”
Trevor took a sip of his coffee, an appreciative smile spreading as he sat back. “Teisha took care of me.”
Carson glanced at the barista. Her black dreads were pulled back in a messy knot, her movements decisive as she mastered the expresso machine. She looked up and gave him a cheeky wink. Carson puffed out a laugh, nodding. “She did.” He had no fucking clue what kind of coffee Trevor drank, but Teisha had known.
Trevor sat forward, forearms braced on the table. “What’s up?”
“The issue I’ve been monitoring has shifted,” Carson said without preamble. “She’s in. At least, she wants to try it.”
A slow nod was Trevor’s response. “You’ll manage that, right?”
“Yes.” He couldn’t wait. “I’ll be arranging something for tomorrow night.” He’d place the details and request on the app when they were done here. It usually didn’t take long for people to jump in and a location to be offered. He’d been impressed when he’d discovered how expansive the network was, encompassing people from the entire Bay Area.
Trevor gave away little, his expression often masking his real thoughts. But Carson knew how to read him, and he wasn’t getting the disapproval he’d feared. Trevor only shot him that inquisitive look, a smirk appearing. “I’m thinking I shouldn’t participate.”
“Fuck, no!” Carson winced. “Not unless you’re masked and voiceless.”
“Shucks,” Trevor mocked, snapping his fingers. “That’s not my thing.”
Carson flipped him off. “Have you figured out who she is?”
“I saw the NDA.”
Of course he knew. Carson had scanned the signed contract into the app before delivering it to Ryan, the Boardroom lawyer. But as the Boardroom founder, Trevor kept a tight hold over every aspect of it. Including the app management, which was Carson’s responsibility. “Thoughts?” he asked.
“Be careful. And don’t fuck up my office.” His tone was joking, but he wasn’t.
“I always am,” Carson said with a cheesy smile. He let it drop, going serious. “I have no intention of fucking up anything.”
“Except her.” Trevor raised that brow. “Am I right?”
Images seared him of Avery bent over a desk, dress rumpled around her waist, each long thrust sinking him deep within her heat. Hell. He shifted, spread his legs wider and shut down the image before he embarrassed himself.
Trevor laughed, and Carson flipped him off again. Ass.
He still had a lot to discuss with Avery, including contact between them, others and exactly how far she wanted to go. Would she welcome his touch, beg for it? Moan beneath his hands, cry out when he played with her clit?
“Keep me informed,” Trevor said, standing. “Thanks for the coffee.” He nodded to the barista as he left, an air of authority following him out the door.
Carson sat back, the tension easing from his shoulders. He checked the time and opened the Boardroom app. He set up a thin profile for Avery, pausing as he considered her username. Very few interacted on the app with their real names, but after so many years in the group, he personally knew a majority of the people he played with.
He considered his own username, which had been Driver for years, and typed in Shotgun for Avery. The reference was loose, but people would catch on soon enough—if she remained in the group.
And that would all depend on the scene he arranged for her tomorrow night.