Chapter 7

DAKOTA

THE NEXT day, I travelled across the city to discuss a potential real estate acquisition. While I handled the purchase of land for our development firm, Sam acquired and dismantled key businesses, providing cash flow until our business took root. Like it or not, he had a knack for takeovers. This time, however, he no longer preyed on the weak and unsuspecting. He focused on friendly acquisitions, absorbing useful companies and employees into our businesses, selling off the remaining parts. Sometimes, as with Langston & Howe, we acquired both assets and prime real estate in one swoop. It was time-consuming work, requiring long hours and lots of travel. Together, we worked toward a common goal, and I hoped he could spend less time on the road and more time at home in the near future, especially with a baby on the way.

Although business remained forefront in my thoughts, our budding family stayed on periphery of everything I did. The scope of my actions seemed more important than before, and I couldn’t help thinking about how something as miniscule as a new satellite office might affect my work hours. I already pulled sixteen-hour days, sometimes more.

Chandler hovered outside the meeting room, stalwart and silent, hands clasped in front of him. His constant presence festered like a splinter under my skin. It was nothing personal. He seemed like a nice guy. I did my best to ignore him but found it impossible.

Halfway through the presentation, the door at the back of the meeting room opened and closed. I knew Sam was there before I saw him. The fine hairs on the back of my neck prickled with awareness, and my panties dampened. For a brief second, I lost my place. Layla covered the gaff. I gave her a grateful glance and tried to avoid looking directly at Sam. He’d been gone less than thirty-six hours, but I missed him as if it had been a week.

“And so you’ll see the projections are in line with our initial proposal.” I spoke automatically and gestured toward the power point on the screen, while Layla passed hard copies around the table to the board members. “I’ve outlined a potential timeline for the acquisition, and I’m prepared to go over the details today.”

Sam leaned against the far wall, arms folded across his chest. Despite my best efforts, my gaze veered to my husband. The crisp lines of his tailored suit emphasized broad shoulders and narrow hips. My heart stuttered when his eyes met mine. They were filled with heat, drilling into me like twin laser beams. Damn, he was hot in the best kind of way. His desire buoyed my confidence. I circled the conference table to the whiteboard at the opposite end, brushing past him. He drew in a deep breath, scenting me, his wide chest swelling.

“This is an aggressive timeline,” said one of the members, his doubt palpable. “Do you really think you can pull this off?”

“I don’t deal in conjecture,” I replied and scribbled a few key dates on the board. “These are accurate figures. With your cooperation, the timeline is absolutely doable.”

A low rumble of approval came from Sam’s direction, inaudible to everyone but me. While Layla distracted the board with a new set of handouts, I turned my back to Sam and allowed the dry erase marker slip through my fingers to the floor. I bent to pick up the marker. My skirt hiked up to reveal an indecent amount of thigh. His breath hissed out. I straightened before the other men noticed.

“Minx,” Sam said under his breath.

“What’s your take on this, Sam?” The president, Mr. Langston, fired the question from the head of the table.

“I have the utmost confidence in Dakota. If she says it’ll work, it’ll work.” Sam’s low, smooth voice rumbled with confidence. “I’m behind this one hundred percent.”

His unwavering support never failed to surprise me. Just knowing he believed in me, trusted me with his company, his millions, and his future, made it a joy to get up each morning. We worked well together. He provided the reputation and solidity, while I offered a wealth of experience and personal contacts in the city.

“In light of your father’s recent troubles, we’d need some reassurance that this deal isn’t in jeopardy.” Mr. Howe’s statement left a bitter taste in my mouth. Maxwell again.

“Ascension Corporation isn’t affiliated with Seaforth Industries,” I replied. “And Sam isn’t involved in the operations of his father’s business.”

My knees dissolved as Sam pressed into my back. His woodsy cologne teased my nostrils. The buttons of his shirt bit into my shoulder blade. Oh, God. I wanted to moan aloud, to bury my hands in his wavy blond hair and tug his delectable lower lip between my teeth. Instead, I pushed my bottom into his groin and tried not to grin at the hardness behind the fly of his trousers.

“You’ll pay for that later.” His lips brushed my earlobe as he brushed past and slipped into the nearest empty chair.

The meeting dragged on. I did my best to concentrate on the topics tossed in my direction. This was important. Acquiring Langston & Howe would be a double feather in our cap. Not only would we take possession of their business, but we’d own twenty-four acres of prime lakefront property along the city’s west side, ripe for development. This deal would buoy our reputation and let the world know that Sam was back on top. I had to shine, but it was difficult with Sam sitting across from me, long fingers tapping the table top, jaw impossibly square. Feeling a sudden rush of heat, I unfastened the top button of my blouse and ran a finger along my collarbone. Sam cleared his throat. I bit back a chuckle, knowing how he loved it when I touched myself.

“I have to say I’m very impressed with you, Mrs. Seaforth. You’re a lucky man, Sam,” Mr. Howe said as the meeting adjourned. He shook my hand and clapped Sam on the back.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Sam replied. His gaze flitted from my eyes to my lips and back to my eyes. The dangerous promise in his stare sent a thrill like a lightning bolt straight between my legs.

“Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Howe. It’s been a pleasure speaking with you today. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to freshen up,” I said, and headed toward the ladies’ room. Chandler trailed in my shadow. I stopped at the entrance to the hallway and held out a hand. “Stay.” There was something about having a stranger outside the restroom that crossed my personal boundaries. His brow furrowed, but he stopped and nodded. 

Inside the restroom, I took a moment to draw a few deep breaths. A curious wave of nausea curled my stomach. I stared at my reflection, wondering if this was delayed morning sickness or just a case of nerves. Although I’d never admit it to anyone, I’d been apprehensive about today’s meeting. One wrong word could break this very important deal. It had been my first time without Sam. I was glad he’d gotten a chance to watch me in action and appreciated his decision to stay on the fringes of the meeting. After I washed my hands, I ran cool water of my wrists. The bathroom door swung open. Sam’s reflection appeared in the mirror. His eyes met mine. My breath caught when he leaned back against the door and flipped the lock.

“Excuse me, sir, but this is the women’s restroom,” I said in the most level tone I could muster. Meanwhile, my hands trembled as I turned off the water and reached for a paper towel. “The men’s room is to your left.”

“Is that so?” He lifted an eyebrow. The deep timbre of his voice sent a pleasant shiver down my spine. “I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere.”

I arched an eyebrow. “That’s not a very good excuse. I think you did it on purpose. What am I going to do with you?”

His gaze dipped to my mouth. I followed the sensual slide of his tongue along his lower lip. “I’ve got a couple of ideas.” He removed his jacket and laid it carefully over the top of the stall door. All the moisture left my mouth.

“Like?” I tossed the paper towel into the trash. Sam moved toward me while pulling his tie loose, and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt, revealing the hollow at the base of his throat. God, how I loved that part of his anatomy. My nose fit perfectly there at night when we slept. I knew his skin would smell of shower gel and cologne. Mesmerized by the fire in his eyes, I shuffled backward, unable to look away.

“Like, how about I bend you over this sink, pull up that sexy skirt of yours, and take you from behind. You can watch in the mirror.” He unbuckled his belt. I swallowed hard, feeling moisture pool between my thighs and the sweet ache of anticipation low in my belly.

“You know how much I like to watch,” I whispered.

“Yes, baby, I do. And I like watching you watch.” The zipper of his fly growled as he lowered it, revealing a triangle of black boxer briefs and the bulge behind them.

The edge of the sink bit into my backside. I clutched the cold porcelain and raised my chin. He kept walking toward me until the heat of his body permeated my clothes, almost but not quite touching me. The tip of his nose ghosted the curve of my temple. I twitched my legs, eager to feel him inside me, but apprehensive.

“Aren’t you worried someone will find us?” I asked. His fingertips grazed my knees then his warm palms slid along the length of my thighs as he pushed up my skirt.

“No. Chester’s on point.”

“His name is Chandler. And I’d like to have a few words with you about him.” Sam drew my earlobe between his teeth and tugged. I shivered. “Oh, God.”

“Now? Because Chandler’s the last thing on my mind.” His lips nibbled the curve of my jaw and stopped at the corner of my mouth.

“Later’s fine.” I closed my eyes and savored the potent aphrodisiac of his cologne, the swell of his pectorals against my breasts, and the heat of his breath shimmered over my skin.

“Good, because I missed you, and all I can think about is getting inside you.”

I groaned in relief and anguish when he finally kissed me. Sam had the best kisses—slow, deep, and tender. Like he had all the time in the world. Like we weren’t in the executive restroom of a client’s high-rise building. Like we were the only two people in existence. My fingers dug into his shoulders. One of his feet wedged between mine, spreading my legs so he could nestle into the V of my thighs. His erection thickened between us. I ran a palm over his hardness, reveling in his rumble of desire. He pushed into my hand.

“Panties off,” he said. I pulled the lace thong down my legs, but he stopped my hand when they reached my knees. “Leave them there. Now turn around and face the mirror. Both hands on the sink.”

My heart pounded against my ribs. I turned to face our reflection. Sam loomed over my shoulder. Green fire lit his eyes. He gripped my hip with one of his hands, and with the other, guided himself to my entrance. Our gazes remained locked. The tip of his cock nudged inside me, one inexorable, tantalizing inch at a time, until he was balls deep. The insistent pressure started a tremor along the length of my legs. He tipped his head back, eyes closed, lashes fanned across his high cheekbones. A muscle twitched at the corner of his mouth when he withdrew and slid back inside. He was lethal, beautiful, and one hundred percent mine. 

“Yes.” Exquisite friction built between us. The grip of his fingers tightened on my hip. “That’s good.”

His eyes opened, blazing with need. “You made me proud in there, Kota.” He eased out then slammed into me. The smack of his pelvis against my bottom reverberated around the room. “Damn proud.”

Those words meant more to me than a dozen successful acquisitions or a bank account full of money. I wanted nothing more than to please him in every way. “Harder.”

“You’re perfect.” He spoke through gritted teeth as he picked up the pace. “You mean everything to me.”

My fingers curled around the edge of the sink. Sam palmed my breasts, cupping them, squeezing them together. He pulled my back to his chest. I glanced over my shoulder. He understood and pressed his mouth to mine. Our tongues tangled while he thrust. We became lost in a primitive dance, bucking and clinging to each other, fighting to get closer.

“Come for me.” He cupped my chin, tipping my gaze up to his. His nostrils flared, filling with the scent of our sex. “Watch us, in the mirror. Watch me fuck you.”

I turned back to our reflection. The sight of Sam in his pristine white shirt, the throat unbuttoned, his hair wild from my fingers, set my blood on fire. A few locks of my hair had escaped the French twist and trailed over my temples. A feral light glowed in my eyes. I pushed back against Sam, taking him deeper, rewarded by his surprised gasp. My orgasm rippled down my thighs. Sam’s eyes narrowed and his lips parted. He tensed, clutching my bottom, fingers biting into my flesh. One final thrust, and he came with a delectable growl that reverberated around the empty bathroom.

We stood in silence as we came back to earth, chests heaving, our breathing labored. With gentle slowness, he withdrew, turned me around to face him, and buried his nose in my hair. His strong arms wrapped around my shoulders. One of his hands cradled the back of my head. The security of his embrace never failed to slay me. I’d never truly been alive without him. And now we were creating a new life together.

“I missed you,” he whispered. “I hate being away. Especially now.”

“I missed you too.” I nuzzled my nose deeper into the hollow of his throat. Although I wanted the magic of the moment to last forever, the reality of our surroundings dampened my enthusiasm. “Do you think maybe we should get going? Chandler is probably wondering what we’re up to.”

“Chandler’s paid very well. I’m sure he doesn’t give a damn.” As he spoke, his arms slid away. Cool air circulated between us. He tucked in his shirt and zipped the fly of his pants while I smoothed my hair and straightened my skirt.

We left the restroom together, our shoulders touching as we walked down the hallway. Sam and Chandler traded glances, a male exchange I couldn’t decipher. Sam’s hand hovered at the small of my back, claiming me. My body hummed from the contact.

“Have Rockwell bring the car for Mrs. Seaforth,” Sam said to Chandler.

“You’re not coming with me?” The thrill of our bathroom tryst faded at the thought of leaving him again so soon. I smoothed the lapel of his jacket then brushed away a smudge of lipstick from the corner of his mouth. “I was hoping to have you all alone in the car for a bit. You could fill me in on your meetings. Or just fill me.”

He smiled, something he didn’t do nearly enough these days, and the flash of white teeth sent my heart into arrhythmia. “I wish, but no. Beckett and I are meeting with the feds to discuss Maxwell.”

“Oh. Okay.” The very thought of Maxwell numbed the euphoria of our quickie. “Should I worry?”

“No.” Our eyes met, and his little finger curled around mine. In that moment, I’d believe him if he told me the sky was green and the grass was purple. “We’ll talk tonight.”

The elevator doors opened, and I entered the car with Layla at my side. “Behave,” I warned him. The doors began to close.

“I always do,” he replied.