All the Right Places (RILEY O'BRIEN & CO #1) (19 page)

Quinn sat down on a stool next to Deda and braced his elbows on the restaurant’s long bar. He’d asked the other man to join him for a drink after work because he wanted to talk with someone who knew Riley O’Brien & Co. inside and out but wasn’t part of the family.

As soon as he finished up with Deda, he planned to head back to Riley Plaza to see Amelia. When he’d dropped her off at the penthouse after their outing to Alcatraz two days ago, he had reiterated his promise that their personal activities wouldn’t interfere with their professional relationship.

He was doing his best to keep that promise, too, even though he wanted to call her to his office, throw her on the sofa, and shove his face between her legs. When he’d stopped by her workshop yesterday, he hadn’t talked about anything other than business. And today when he’d swung by to say hello, he’d managed to keep his hands to himself despite her figure-hugging dress.

Forcing himself to stop thinking about Amelia, he turned his attention back to Deda. “Thanks for meeting me.”

Deda gave him an assessing glance, and he quickly picked up on Quinn’s mood. “What’s going on, Quinn?”

He had a moment to collect his thoughts when the
bartender approached and asked for his order. He ordered a Fat Tire for himself, and Deda requested a vodka tonic.

“You think you’re going to need hard liquor for this conversation?” he asked, not entirely in jest.

Deda chuckled. “Maybe.”

Quinn trusted Deda implicitly because the older man always had the company’s best interests at heart. And right now, he needed to talk with someone unbiased. He knew Deda would tell him the truth, even if it wasn’t pretty.

“My dad’s not coming back to work.”

Deda silently absorbed Quinn’s bombshell for a few moments. “I had doubts he would.”

“He plans to make the official announcement in December. He’s going to name me as his successor at the same time.”

Deda nodded. “He’s making the right decision.”

Deda’s loyalty made Quinn smile. “I’ve done my best to run the company as he would have if he hadn’t been sick. I’ve been careful not to make any big changes.”

“I know you’ve been dancing to your dad’s beat.”

In James’s mind, Rileys were practical and comfortable, not a fashion statement. He was more concerned about quality than style, and for most of his life, he had focused on making Rileys better. He had improved the quality and craftsmanship of the jeans.

And he had led the charge in the apparel industry to embrace sustainable manufacturing and farming. In fact, Riley O’Brien & Co. had been the first company to introduce jeans made from organic cotton.

His dad was innovative in his own way, but he wasn’t going to suddenly change the way he thought about the fashion industry. He’d never wanted to be part of it. But once his dad turned the company over to him, Quinn would be able to implement any changes he wanted.

“Deda, once Dad hands over the company to me, I’m not going to hold back any longer.”

The bartender delivered their drinks, and Deda took a big swallow before speaking. “What do you have in mind?”

Quinn shook his head. “I’m not sure yet. But I need you to give me some information.”

“I will if I can.”

“Have you noticed there are fewer retailers interested in partnering with us? Are you seeing fewer requests from boutiques interested in carrying our jeans?”

“Yes.” Deda’s answer was pithy but powerful.

Quinn exhaled roughly. “Explain.”

“Boutiques that sell apparel exclusively for women are choosing other designers and manufacturers.” Deda swirled his vodka tonic around in its glass. “The ones that target men are more interested in upscale clothing: suits, business casual attire, and apparel of that nature.”

“And what about the regional retailers?”

“They want to stock what sells, and women aren’t buying Rileys. The retailers don’t want to manage too many vendor relationships, and they prefer brands that appeal to both men and women.” Deda swiveled on his stool toward Quinn. “Am I telling you anything that you didn’t already know?”

“Not really,” he answered, shaking his head. “If we don’t have products that sell, smart retailers aren’t going to waste space on them.”

“That’s right.”

“Do you think we can change their minds? Get them on our side again?”

Deda shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. Definitely not if things stay the same.” He paused. “Amelia has a good handle on what needs to change.”

He cocked his head. “Amelia?”

“Yes. She’s not some empty-headed fashionista, you know.”

Deda was fierce in his defense of Amelia, and Quinn was secretly pleased the other man liked her so much. God knew, Quinn liked her.

A lot
.

He held up his hands, palms out. “Whoa, man. I never said she was.”

Deda gave him a long look. “She has some really good ideas, Quinn.”

“Like what?”

Deda tapped his fingers against the bar without answering, and Quinn resisted the urge to slam his hand down on top of them. “What ideas, Deda?”

Draining the remainder of his vodka tonic in one big swallow, Deda returned the glass to the bar. “You should ask her,” he suggested before standing. “I need to get home.”

Deda pulled a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet, but Quinn stopped him by holding up a hand. “I’ve got it. Thanks again for meeting me.”

“Quinn, you know the company needs to make some big changes. But just in case you didn’t know this: I am behind you one hundred percent.” Deda patted him on the back. “See you tomorrow, boss.”

•   •   •

On his walk back to Riley Plaza, Quinn mulled over the conversation with Deda. Riley O’Brien & Co. had to maintain a strong network of retailers.
Period.
If Rileys weren’t available in the stores where people shopped, they’d just buy something else.

He wondered if Amelia’s designs would attract any new retail partners given their interest in designers that appealed to both men and women. Deda’s mysterious comments about Amelia and her ideas had made him curious about her plans for the new accessories.

She had promised to have the first set of designs available for review in mid-November. He made a mental note to check in with her to see if she felt good about her progress so far.

He also needed to talk with her about their upcoming trip to the manufacturing facility that would be retrofitted to produce her accessories. The visit was important because he wanted her to understand the investment Riley O’Brien & Co. had to make to take her designs from concept to reality.

They were scheduled to fly to Georgia this Thursday to tour the facility, and she was supposed to head back to Nashville afterward. But he was going to suggest they postpone the trip until next week. He wanted her to meet his parents before she returned home. And yeah, maybe he was looking for a reason to keep her in San Francisco for a little longer.

Turning right at the corner, he increased his pace. He was eager to see Amelia. He wanted to hear about her day and tell her about his. And he wanted to kiss her pink lips, touch her soft skin, and sink into her snug body.

His cock twitched, and he shoved his hands into his front pockets to ease the pressure behind his fly. He had been sure that once he’d ended his dry spell with Amelia, his desire for her would decrease to more manageable levels . . . that he wouldn’t be so crazy. But he was worried he wanted her even more than before. And he’d been pretty desperate before he had spent hours inside her.

It had been impossible to keep his hands off her at the chocolate festival, and when she’d suggested that he take her home, he’d employed every bit of self-control he possessed to prevent himself from pouncing on her in his car.

Once they’d gotten to his place, though, her obvious nervousness had made him hesitate. Although he wanted Amelia, he also wanted her to feel good about being with him. When she had said she wanted to see his bedroom, he’d almost fallen to his knees in thanks.

He hadn’t been able to get enough of her luscious body, and he’d been more than a little greedy. After he had pinned her to the wall in the penthouse shower and kept her there until the hot water ran out, he’d promised himself that he would give her some time to recover.

The visit to Alcatraz had been fun, but his hyperawareness of Amelia had increased rather than decreased. He’d wanted to touch her constantly, even if it was only his hand on her lower back or his arm around her shoulders.

Quinn reached Riley Plaza, and he used his keycard to let himself into the skyscraper. As he rode the escalator to the company’s reception area, his heart began to thud heavily. By the time he arrived on the penthouse floor, his palms were sweating and his heart was racing. He shook his head in irritation.

Why am I so nervous?

Amelia was working on Teagan’s redesign project when she heard a knock on the penthouse door. She wasn’t expecting company, but she expected to find Quinn or Teagan on the other side of the door.

She closed the sketchpad. She’d been drawing for a little over two hours now, and she had several great ideas for some new jeans. She hoped Teagan would be happy.

She’d focused on the accessories line all day, and she had made a lot of progress. A few of the designs had sparked some ideas for Teagan’s project, so she’d left the workshop to come up to the penthouse a little early.

Peering through the peephole, she saw Quinn’s tall form magnified within it. She was happy to see him and was about to fling open the door when she remembered that she’d left her sketchpad on the cocktail table.

“Give me just a second,” she shouted through the door.

She didn’t hear Quinn’s response because she’d already darted back to the living room to grab her sketchpad. She turned in a circle, trying to figure out the best place to hide it.

She didn’t want him to find it and discover her designs for the new Rileys. She thought about her bedroom but discarded
that idea. Given her appalling lack of control when it came to Quinn, they might end up there.

She zeroed in on the hall closet and placed the sketchpad on the shelf above the clothes rod. Closing the closet door, she pushed down the guilt that blossomed because of her sneakiness.

Rushing back to the front door, she jerked it open. They stared at each other for a moment without speaking. Every time she saw him, he looked even better than the last time. And now that she knew what was under his button-down shirt and Rileys, she had a difficult time thinking about anything else.

“May I come in?”

She smiled, thinking he wasn’t nearly so polite in bed. “Sure,” she said, opening the door wider.

He walked in, and she closed the door behind him. She had barely turned around before he backed her against it. He slammed his mouth down on hers, thrusting his tongue into her mouth when she opened to him.

He tasted delicious, a mix of his own unique spiciness and the yeasty bitterness of beer, and she moaned against his mouth. He fed her several deep kisses before releasing her mouth with a gentle lick across her bottom lip.

“Sorry. I couldn’t resist your lips.”

“You think my lips are irresistible,” she tried to tease, but her voice was raspy.

He nodded, his eyes smoky in the dim lighting. “The rest of you is pretty damn irresistible, too. Especially those red curls between your legs.”

Blood rushed into her cheeks, and she placed her palms against them to cool her skin. Quinn wasn’t hiding his attraction to her any longer, and the full force of his sexy attention overwhelmed her.

His gaze roamed over her face, and a slow smile turned up the corners of his lips. “Are you embarrassed, Juice?”

She made a sound of disgust, pushing past him into the living room. With a deep chuckle, he followed.

She sat down on the sofa and tucked her bare feet under her, making sure her wrap dress didn’t fall open. She didn’t want to flash him, even though he’d probably love it.

He dropped down next to her and propped his booted feet on the cocktail table. He crossed his legs at the ankle, the movement drawing her attention to the bulge between his thighs.

As arousal bloomed at her center, she decided that he wasn’t going to leave the penthouse until both of them enjoyed a couple of orgasms. She was evaluating whether the sofa met her needs when he spoke.

“I want to talk to you about our trip to Georgia. We’re scheduled to leave day after tomorrow, but I’d like to postpone it until next week.”

“Okay.” She shrugged. “It’s not a big deal for me to stay here for a few more days.”

He smiled. “Great. We can fly out next Thursday and tour the facility on Friday. I’ll drop you off in Nashville on the way back to San Francisco.”

She nodded. “That sounds good.”

Glancing down, he pulled at a loose thread on the cuff of his shirt. A long piece unraveled, and she grabbed his fingers.

“Stop that,” she ordered. “You’re going to make the whole seam come undone.”

He brought his gaze to her, his eyes hot. “I want you to meet my parents.”

Jerking away from him, she jumped off the sofa.
“What?”

He dropped his feet to the floor and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He shot her an alert glance.

“There’s no reason to freak out, Juice. I thought you’d want to get to know my dad since he’s been running the company for the past thirty years, and I thought you’d enjoy meeting my mom since she’s the one who came up with the idea for our special-edition jeans.”

Amelia immediately felt foolish. Of course, he didn’t want her to
meet
his parents, like she was his girlfriend or something. He was thinking about business.

“Oh,” she said weakly. “That’s fine then.”

She tried to ignore the little pang of disappointment deep inside her, but she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have a real place in Quinn’s life. She feared she was little more than a convenient sex partner for him, when he was starting to mean a lot more to her.

He smiled at her acceptance. “The 49ers are playing your home team here this Sunday. We have a big suite in the new stadium, and I thought it would be a good place for you to spend some time with my parents. The game should be pretty good.”

Like most Texans, Amelia loved football, and she knew the 49ers were playing the Tennessee Titans. She lived in Nashville, but her home team was definitely
not
the Titans.

“My home team is the Dallas Cowboys.” Her tone made it clear she thought he was an idiot.

He grinned. “Do you like football?”

She propped her hands on her hips. “I grew up in Texas, Quinn. What do you think?”

“I think you’re even sexier now than you were thirty seconds ago.” He leaned back and patted the cushion next to him. “Come and sit down.”

•   •   •

Quinn eyed Amelia, trying to ascertain whether she would do what he’d asked or if he would have to drag her onto his lap. Thinking about her balanced on top of him made his cock thicken.

She still stood with her hands on her hips, and the stance accentuated her curves. It also pulled the bodice of her plum-colored dress tight against her breasts. Saliva pooled in his mouth as he stared at the white skin exposed by the deep V neck of her dress. Her skin was so pale it was almost translucent, and he now knew she had freckles almost everywhere except her round ass.

He let his gaze roam over her, noting the way her dress wrapped across her body and knotted on the side. He wondered what would happen if he pulled on that tie.

He lunged forward, tangling his fingers in the tie and pulling it loose. The side of her dress fell open a little bit, but it didn’t loosen completely.

With a loud gasp, she grabbed her dress. While her hands were busy, he pulled her toward him. They fell backward onto the sofa with her sprawled on top of him.

The fall had hiked up her dress, and he pushed it higher so he could grip her ass in his hands. Pulling her against
him, he groaned when he felt her mound against his cock, scalding even through his jeans.

He realized he was acting a little bit like an animal, but he couldn’t stop. For some reason, he was more out of control right now than he had been the first time they’d had sex, even though he hadn’t been with anyone for a long time before that. Amelia had stoked a fire in him, and he was throwing gasoline on it.

Grabbing his shoulders, she struggled to regain her balance. Her long, curly hair fell across his face, tickling his nose and lips, and she threw back her head to get it out of their faces. He surged up to lick her cleavage.

“Quinn,” she moaned. “Let me catch my breath.”

“No. I want you to be breathless,” he said but leaned back against the sofa and let go of her ass.

She wiggled a bit against his crotch, and his vision blurred. Finally, she got settled and sat up, perching on his lap just like he’d imagined a few minutes ago. He gazed into her face. Her cheeks were the color of cherries, and her eyes were so dark they were almost black.

“Take off your dress.”

Without any hesitation, she opened the front of her dress, slipping it from her shoulders and letting it slither to the floor. He moaned when he saw her breasts. A sheer black bra with hot pink piping around the edges covered the plump mounds, and tiny hot pink bows decorated her cleavage.

“I like your underwear, Juice.”

He sucked her nipple through the fabric of her bra before he noticed her matching panties. They had a tiny pink bow on the waistband just below her belly button.

Oh, yeah, I’m going to unwrap her just like a birthday present.

Leaning forward, he slid his hands inside her panties to fondle her bare ass. He couldn’t get enough of it, and he squeezed gently before trailing his fingers down the crease between her cheeks until he reached the springy hairs covering her pussy.

He swirled his fingers through the abundant wetness of her body, and she let out a breathy sound that made all the
hair on his body stand on end. He brought his knees up so he could support her back.

“Unbutton my jeans.”

His voice was barely a growl, and he could feel his control fraying. If he didn’t get inside her soon, he was going to make a mess on this expensive leather sofa.

Shifting on his lap, she reached between them. Her fingers grazed his cock, and the light touch made him hiss. She froze, staring into his eyes.

“Do you have a condom? Please say you do because I don’t have any.”

Shit
.

He leaned his head back against the sofa cushion and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t have a condom. He’d brought a couple with him after they had left his house on Sunday, but they’d used them already.

Opening his eyes, he raised his head. “No. I’m sorry. I don’t.”

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “Where can we get one? Is there someplace nearby?” she asked hopefully.

It would take him at least twenty minutes to run to the corner store and get back. Plus, he wanted to spend the entire night with her, and he wouldn’t be able to stay overnight in the penthouse. Someone from Riley O’Brien & Co. might get to work early and see him come down from the penthouse wearing the same clothes he’d had on the day before.

“Let’s just go back to my place. You can spend the night.”

She shook her head, her coppery ringlets spilling across her shoulders and over her left eye. She swiped the curls away, and the action pushed her breasts into his face.

Leaning forward, he pulled down one of her bra cups and caught a hard nipple in his mouth. She sank her hands into his hair as he sucked and licked the tip.

“How would I get to work tomorrow morning?” she gasped.

He released her nipple with a soft pop. “I’ll drive you.”

“But someone could see us,” she protested. “They’d wonder why we were together so early in the morning.”

He groaned in frustration. He didn’t want to hide his
relationship with Amelia. He wasn’t ashamed of it. They were both adults, and they weren’t doing anything wrong.

At the same time, however, he knew she worried about her professional reputation. He could understand her concerns. Some people might think the partnership between Riley O’Brien and Amelia had more to do with sex than her design talent. And he never wanted to do anything that could possibly tarnish Amelia in the eyes of her existing and future clients.

She shifted again, the movement sending a twinge deep into his testicles. He didn’t want to stop, and there was only one way they could continue.

He sighed. “I’m clean.”

“What?” she asked, blinking owlishly.

“I don’t have any STDs or STIs, or whatever they’re called now. I had a checkup a few months ago, and all the tests came back fine.”

She considered his words for several moments. “A few months ago? What about your . . . activities since then?”

“I told you I haven’t been with anyone in a while.”

She tilted her head. “Quinn, you’re going to have to be a lot more specific before I’m willing to have unprotected sex with you.”

He sat up, and she wobbled on his lap. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he brought her face close to his.

“Okay, Juice, I’ll be specific. Before we had sex, the last person I was with was my ex-girlfriend and that was more than a year ago. Actually it’s closer to two years.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Why?”

He shrugged uncomfortably. He didn’t want to explain why. He wasn’t even sure he knew.

“I just . . . wasn’t interested. I was dealing with a lot of stuff.”

She didn’t respond, and he lifted her off his lap and onto her feet. “Never mind,” he said, scooting forward on the sofa.

At that point, he didn’t know if he was leaving to buy condoms or just leaving. Either way, he was done with the conversation.

She pushed him back with the heel of her hand, stepping
between his knees. Reaching down, she began to unbutton his shirt, her fingers fast and nimble. She leaned forward and kissed him, swiping her tongue across his lips.

“I’m clean, too. I had my well woman exam last month, and all the tests were clear.” Her words came out in a rush. “I haven’t been with anyone in more than a year. And I’m also on the Pill, so there are no worries there.”

She swallowed, her white throat moving sinuously. “I’ve never had sex without a condom,” she admitted. “This is going to be new for me.”

He instinctively understood what she meant. She was
trusting
him, and that was new for her.

A mix of desire and tenderness flooded him, and he pulled her closer so he could kiss her belly button. “I haven’t either, even when I was young and really stupid,” he admitted, tracing his finger over the bow on her panties. “I’ve always been scared shitless of catching a disease or getting a girl pregnant.”

She laughed softly. “Me, too. I was afraid of getting pregnant and ending up a poor single mother with no hope of making my life better.”