Bryce

The memories of her moaning and coming two times last night slowly wakes me up. This woman brought me to my knees.

A few hours earlier, my head was between her thighs, licking and sucking her sweet cunt. I became addicted. I took her again and she took control, getting on top of me and riding my cock hard and fast. The vivid image of her tits bouncing and throwing back her head got me hard again.

Fuck. I need her.

Rolling over to reach out for her, in hopes for a morning session, I’m met with cold sheets and an empty side of the bed. My eyes snap open, and I sit up on the bed and turn to the side, confirming what I’m feeling.

The room’s silent. I survey it, listening closely to see if she’s in the bathroom or elsewhere in the hotel room.

I hear nothing.

Silence.

Lying back down on the bed, I rub my face with my hands, trying to come up with a plan. Any sort of plan.

I’m used to one-night stands. I’m the man who’ll fuck a woman and then leave. Not last night. It was the best sex I’ve had. She was submissive and sweet. Her cunt was tight around my cock. I craved her.

Getting out of bed, I pull on my pants and grab my shirt from the floor. As I’m buttoning my shirt, I see a note on the table. Walking over, I reach down to grab it, and as soon as I open the letter, her words spill out.

Cal,

If it’s supposed to happen, then we’ll meet in the middle.

Sophia

A smile curves on my face. I’ll see her again. Being a successful businessman, I know how to handle difficult situations and close a deal. I didn’t make my millions without a plan. With everything I do, I have a plan and a predicted outcome for any possible scenario. To get to my level of success, dedication, intelligence, and quick thinking are important. Now, I know I can get anything I want.

And what I want is her.

* * *

Once upon a time, I was a caring and happy man. I embraced life, enjoyed work, and lived. Then again, that was before life decided to put a permanent blade through anything good inside me.

I’m dead inside.

Uncaring.

Cold.

The few people I have in my close knit circle are the only ones who know me.

The real me.

My business partners and employees simply see the professional Bryce Hunter. Running a multibillion-dollar business requires attention. Complete attention. My day never ends. I work on the weekends and well past five in the evening during the week.

Running my empire, I need to handle every deal with precision. These deals are all a game to me and it’s about winning ... the bottom line. I’ve never lost a deal or been outbid. My company’s accomplishments are due to the fierceness of my employees and their willingness to strive for the best. As they should with the salary I’m paying them.

“Have you made any progress?”

I nod, looking around the busy restaurant for our waitress so she can get me another glass of bourbon. “Not yet. There’s no need to worry. Is there anything else you need from me?”

“No.”

“Very well. Enjoy the rest of your evening. This will be handled.”

He reaches for my hand but immediately pulls his away when my darkened eyes narrow on him. “If things progress the way they have been, I’ll need you to deliver some letters. Just you, Hunter.”

“Okay,” I state coolly.

He nods, and I leave the restaurant. Once I’m outside, I feel a small hand press on my back. Immediately, I tense.

“What are you up to, Bryce Hunter?” she asks, her voice sultry and lustful. Her efforts mean nothing to me.

I start toward the street and nod to Peter, signaling for him to give me a few minutes. “Nothing that concerns you.”

She purses her lips. “Anything you do concerns me. When will you recognize that? The sooner you realize I’m here for you to make certain you don’t end up in a situation you can’t find yourself out of, the sooner you’ll open up to me. I’m only looking out for you.”

I hold back my annoyance. “Eventually, you’ll need to move on. What I do is my business and mine only. It doesn’t concern you nor will it ever. You need to sever whatever hold you have on me. Aren’t you seeing that adorable lawyer? Get bored already?” I can’t hide the smirk that appears on my face as she flinches at the remark.

“The only man I want is the one I can’t have. What’s it going to take for you to see we belong together?”

I cringe thinking about those last three words—we belong together. Love is a waste of time. Soul mates and true love does not exist. Love only sets you up for disappointment. If love is supposed to be the best feeling in the world, in the universe, then why can it be ripped out of your life without warning?

People associate love with forever. With infinity. How can a person love when their heart is a darkened, black space … one full of sorrow and pain?

I believed in love before my world became jaded. Happy memories of attentive parents filled my childhood. Even as a teenager, I knew I was headed to Harvard University after graduation. During the first semester of my senior year, my father collapsed and passed away. Not only was I now the man of the family and expected to care for my mother and younger sister, but I was also expected to run Hunter Continental Holdings. The board granted me time to complete my degree before taking my place as CEO. A few months after I took office, my mother and sister moved to New York City because the memories of my father made it too hard to stay here. At the young age of twenty-three, I was in control, and people depended on me. The high expectations and pressure helped me grow along with my employees and company.

Then a drunken night with a close friend brought us an unexpected surprise nine months later.

The little bundle of joy completed my life.

She gave my life meaning and purpose.

Then she was taken from me.

And I turned away from love.

From anything good and pure.

She snaps her fingers in my face, her voice rising to get my attention. “Bryce? Are you listening to me?”

I sigh. “What is it, Tiffany?”

“Can we grab a drink? Things aren’t going very well for me. I keep thinking about it. You might not feel the pain I do …”

Turning to face her, I stop her by gripping her hand. “Don’t you dare say it. I think about it all the time. Every fucking day. Every fucking second. You need to understand I’m a haunted man.”

A man who should feel something but doesn’t.

A man who’s experienced more tragedy than he should.

“I care about you, Bryce. You have more money than you know what to do with because you work your ass off. I worry about you and don’t want to see you fall. You’re going to work yourself to your grave. Is that what you want?”

I rub my finger against my temple to force away the impending migraine. “That’s none of your business. How many times do I need to remind you that my business is mine alone? This conversation is over. I will see you tomorrow morning.”

Her lids flutter, and she steps back. “I wish you could see how badly I need you.”

“Tomorrow. Morning,” I reiterate.

I clench my jaw and turn away. Peter opens the door for me, and I climb into the back seat of my SUV.

“Home?” Peter asks.

I nod and answer with a curt, “Yes.” Pulling out my cell phone, I make a phone call. He answers on the second ring. “I’m going to need you on this. Get all the information you can. Everything. I’ll email you the necessary information. Turnaround time is twelve hours.”

“You got it, Mr. Hunter.”

“Wonderful.”

Inside my penthouse is quiet. The dim lights cast shadows on the beige walls, and the crackling of the fireplace resounds throughout the living area. After one more sip of my bourbon, I set the glass tumbler on the coffee table in front of me with a sigh. Glancing at the folder in front of me, I feel it taunting me. Wickedly begging me to open it again and read every page. I pick it up, staring at the beige file as questions float around my head.

Last month I was given this for a trade. After understanding what needed to be done, I became obsessed, and wanted more. It took weeks of planning until it all came together.

Lifting the folder open, I lean back on my leather couch, place my ankle over my knee, and look at the contents in full. I’ve read the pages in this document several times. And each time, I read it as if I haven’t before. I examine each part.

Each sentence.

Each detail.

An overwhelming need washes over me, and when I close my eyes, I see her. Those plump lips, high cheekbones, and seductive brown eyes nearly knock me on my ass.

I can’t explain the connection I feel to her or the unfamiliar thoughts in my head. Women normally don’t affect me this way.

I fuck.

I demand.

I control.

I leave.

I’m an asshole, and I don’t hide it. It works for me.