Determined: To Love: (Part 2 of the Determined Trilogy) (10 page)

“Just the end. Who’s Charlie?”

“Just someone who works for me. He just screwed up a major deal.” David walked over to me, and pulled me in by the small of my back. “Nothing you need to worry about.” He pulled my chin up and kissed it softly.

“Sounds like you are a tough boss,” I said, as he moved his mouth over my neck. “See this is why I could never work for you. I don’t think I could handle being spoken to like that.”

“Oh, Ms. Sharp, if you worked for me, we would use other methods of disciplinary action,” he said, his eyes meeting mine, dark and full of fire.

I dropped my purse and the paper bag on the floor as David ran his hands down my back and over my rear.

“Nice dress, Ms. Sharp,” he murmured, approvingly. Then he led me by the hand over to his desk. He sat down in his leather chair and looked at me.

“What? This dress?” I played coy and tugged at the hem. He ran his hands through his hair in exasperation. “You like it?”

“I like it very much. Maybe a little too much. I don’t want to mess it up—maybe you should take it off.” He held my gaze, and the air crackled between us. Encouraged, I felt confident and full of desire to please him. I undid the back of my dress just enough, and let it fall over my shoulders to the ground, exposing my delicate lingerie set.

“Like that?” I asked innocently, tugging at a tendril of my hair.

“Very nice,” David said, sitting very still. His controlled manner drove me crazy with desire. “Touch yourself for me, Samantha.”

At that moment, every part of me lived to please him. I followed his orders and reached down to my sex, my fingers sliding over the soaking wet lace of my panties. I used the other hand to trace the straps of my bra, the weight of my breasts pulling erotically against the elastic. I started to massage my clit in a gentle rhythm. It felt good, and I closed my eyes, lost in the sensation.

“Look at me, Samantha,” David barked, his voice rough with desire.

I opened one eye and then closed it, teasing him. He was always teasing me, making me beg for it. It was only fair to give it back to him. I let out a little moan. He played along.

“How does that feel, Samantha?”

“Mmm. Good.”

“Do you like touching yourself?”

I was too turned-on to blush. “Yes.”

“Do you think of me when you rub your clit?”

I was getting warm, and my breathing was getting harder. “Yes.” I felt the heat of his stare burrowing into me, but didn’t open my eyes.

“I want to watch you come for me, Samantha.”

My body was hot, intensely aroused, crying out for release. His words were so erotic. I obeyed, increasing the pressure, climbing higher and higher. My legs quivered with desire as my sex pulsed for relief as his eyes trained on me. I let out a tiny groan.

“Come for me, Samantha.” He ordered, and I surrendered to his voice, my orgasm seizing my body as it quaked with release. My body flooded with ripples of pleasure as my sex trembled. I cried out, and for a moment I was completely unaware of who or where I was.

After a few beats I opened my eyes. David was there staring at me, his hard-on evident in his trousers. He looked relaxed and pleased.

“That’s a good girl. You’ve got a greedy little cunt, don’t you?” he asked. I nodded. His voice was so deliciously filthy. “Do you want to come again, Samantha?”

I nodded. My body was begging for a second and third orgasm.

“Get on the table.” He motioned to the conference table. We had done it there before. There was something incredibly erotic about having sex so high off the ground, so I quickly submitted.

He got up from his desk chair, and removed his suit jacket. He stood at the end of the table, his eyes fixed on mine, as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. I reached forward and unzipped his pants to free his cock. He was clearly aroused, his length thick and throbbing. He grabbed my legs and pulled me toward him, balancing me on the edge of the table.

He caressed my breasts, pulling them out of my lace demi bra so that they stood on display. Gliding his hands down my torso, he pushed me back so that I was lying on the table. He ran his hands along my legs, caressing my hips.

“You drive me wild, Samantha, you know that, right?” he said, his voice deep with need. It made me insane with desire. I wanted nothing more than to be the one person responsible for his pleasure. He pushed my legs apart and brushed my thighs, gently making his way up toward my sex. Once there, he shoved my panties to the side as he ran a single finger along the length of my cunt.

I couldn’t wait anymore. The anticipation was too much. I needed him inside me. “David, please.” I moaned.

“Please, what?” He said as his finger dipped shallowly inside me, teasing me.

“Fuck me. Please… fuck me.”

I finally felt the tip of his hard cock angle its way toward my sex, and then a moment later I was pounded with an exquisite fullness that pushed me to my limits. David held me by my hips as he expertly guided himself in and out, building with an exquisite rhythm that sent me spiraling up a ladder of ecstasy. I felt him reach deep into me, massaging that dark cluster of nerve endings that sent waves of pleasure throughout my body. I propped myself up on my elbows so that I could see him.

He glanced down at me, his eyes dark with an intense, carnal need. We locked stares and it was enough to push me to the edge. I felt him grow even longer inside me as my core clenched with desire. This beautiful man was such a wonder to me, such a paradox. He could be so vulnerable, yet he was so absolute in his domination of me. I was completely his as he bucked us both towards orgasm.

“Yes,” I panted as he slammed into me.

A deep, guttural sound released from his throat, and I felt hot liquid erupting inside me.

“Fuck, Samantha, you are so fucking beautiful,” he groaned as he came inside me. His face scrunched in ecstasy, and I was welcomed into a deep, rolling orgasm.

A few moments later, once our panting subsided, I peeled myself up off the table, and David pulled himself out of me. Grabbing my sweater dress off the floor, I utilized his private washroom to clean up. After I came out, David went in, and I met him back at the seating area a few minutes later.

I was arranging our food containers on the coffee table when he came and sat down next to me. His face was flushed, and he looked utterly relaxed.

“Okay, I retract my previous suggestions. You can’t work for me. I’d never get anything done.”

I rolled my eyes at him and smiled. “Hmm. I don’t know; I think I need to keep an eye on you. I don’t want any other woman seducing you while I’m not around.”

“That, baby, is not something you have to worry about. You are in a class above any woman I’ve ever met,” he said, kissing me on my forehead. “So, what do we have for lunch? I seem to have worked up an appetite.”

“Cobb salads and iced tea. And chips for me.”

“Awesome,” he said, taking a box from me and picking up a fork and napkin from the table.

“So… I took the job,” I said gently, as I opened my salad container.

“You did?” David said, covering his mouth as he chewed. I think he was surprised. “Did she accept the edits to the contract?”

“Yep. There were no questions. They just accepted what I sent them. Thank you again for your help with that.”

“So when do you start?”

“I told Curtis yesterday. I figured I could start part-time, but officially leave after three weeks. It’s a small gallery, and I want to give him enough time to find someone.”

David took a swig of iced tea and looked at me. “So how did he take it?” David knew how tight I was with Curtis.

“Surprisingly well. He was actually encouraging. He thought it was a good step for me.”

“That’s good, baby. How do you feel?” David put one hand on my knee while he reached over to my side of the coffee table and stole a potato chip.

I smirked at him; it was always fun to see Mr. Healthy dabble on the dark side.

“Good. Excited. Nervous. It’s a big change.”

“But one you are totally ready for and an opportunity you have earned.”

I smiled. He always knew how to make me feel better.

I took a swig of iced tea. “So, what about you? How is your day going? Is everything okay? You seemed pretty mad at that guy on the phone.” I was still very vague on what exactly David did all day, but wanted desperately to be supportive.

“Everything is fine. Or it will be. Hey, I was going to ask you later, but are you able to get the weekend off? I have to fly to the London office for a couple of meetings, and I was thinking it might be nice to make a weekend of it.”

I stared at him.

“Uh. I can’t. It’s Dad’s birthday this weekend, remember? We were going to go to Saratoga?” I was so bummed. I had never been to a foreign country, despite having a passport at the ready. “When are you going?”

“I have to leave on Friday.” He frowned. I could tell he was sad to miss the birthday. Or was it me? “Why don’t they come with us?”

“Mom would never…” I said. It was true. She hated flying with a passion. “And Erin doesn’t have a passport.”

David looked truly perplexed. Usually at times like this, he was able to use his wealth to buy a solution, but this time it wasn’t happening.

“Do you have to go?”

“I’m afraid so. It’s a critical meeting. I’m so sorry, Samantha.” He sighed and turned to me. “But Samantha, I do not want you going anywhere without Elliot. Do you understand?”

“I’ll be fine. It’s Saratoga, for goodness sakes.”

“I’m serious. There are too many unknowns right now.”

He wasn’t going to let this one slide.

“Yes, chief. Roger that, 10-4.” I mock-saluted him. He rolled his eyes and smiled.

~

After lunch, I headed back home. I had planned to spend the afternoon officially ‘moving in’ the things I’d brought from my place, since I wasn’t sure how long I’d be staying. Part of me wanted to believe it might be longer than it would take to catch Brian, but I didn’t let myself linger with those thoughts. Everything with David was perfect right now, and I didn’t want to jinx it by hoping for more.

I started the move in process by taking my toiletries to the bathroom. Once in there, I realized that it was sort of silly that I’d brought anything with me—David had equipped the house with most anything I’d needed. That included a toothbrush and most of the toiletries I required. Still, I took the white toothbrush he’d given me out of the holder and put my red one in. It was a small gesture, but it was symbolic. I left the rest of my toiletry bag in a cupboard under the sink.

Back in the bedroom, I dragged my duffle and suitcase to my closet. Inside, I flicked on the lights and surveyed the room, which was large enough to rival my studio cottage. The closet was already partially full of the clothing David had bought for me, beautiful expensive pieces that were more than a step above what I was accustomed to wearing. Still, I got a thrill out of hanging up my clothes. I filled up a rack along the back wall and took the suitcase and duffle bag back to the bedroom.

I had planned on stuffing the luggage under the bed, as I normally did at home. But when I went to push the two items under the bed, the suitcase wouldn’t fit. It went part of the way, and hit something. I pulled it back out and took a quick look under the bed. It was wide open, totally clear. I didn’t understand why the bags wouldn’t fit. And then off to the side, caught in the shadow, I saw something. I reached under the bed, extending my arm as far as it would go. My fingers hit something rectangular. It felt like cardboard. I adjusted myself and reached further. My fingers curled around the edge of a box. A shoebox. Instinctively, I pawed at it, and managed to drag it out from under the bed.

It was a shoebox, indeed. An Allen Edmonds shoe box. But it was light. I could tell it didn’t have shoes inside. I glanced around and listened. I couldn’t hear Hilde. Even so, I got up and closed the door of the bedroom.

Sitting back down, I stared at the box. I knew I should have been more concerned about David’s personal space, after all, we had only just moved in together, but something was plying me on. I couldn’t fathom David keeping anything worth a darn in a shoebox. So I opened it.

Inside were a bunch of papers. Clippings. Newspaper mostly, but also some magazine articles. And a few photos. I shuffled through them, trying to make sense of my find.

The articles seemed to center around the death of a girl at UC Berkeley, nine or ten years ago. I was surprised I hadn’t heard about it, since it was apparently front page news at the time. A sophomore named Sara Goldstein had been found dead in the lobby of one of the buildings on campus. I started to read the articles.

Suddenly I gasped.

David’s name was right there in black and white. I read it again.

“several people have been questioned, including her fiancé—David Keith.”

I put the article down and said the word out loud. “Fiancé?”

11

The floor fell out from under me.

As long as I had known him, he had always said he never dated seriously. And the hordes of bitter women I had encountered seemed to back this up. All of them seemed to doubt his ability to commit. He had even told me he’d never brought anyone home to meet his family. Had it all been just a line? Because right here in black and white, was evidence to the contrary. Evidence that there had been someone else. And not just anyone. A fiancé—an engagement.

My gut wrenched.

I thumbed through the contents of the box, trying to make sense of it all. I came to a set of photos. One was of a pretty girl, young, probably eighteen or nineteen. She was brunette and pale, and had on a UC Berkeley sweatshirt. I realized it was the same photo that was plastered all over the newspaper clippings. The other was of the same girl, but with a young guy.
David.
He had longer hair and was quite a bit thinner, but it was him all right. He looked… happy. My stomach twisted into knots.

I read on.

According to the articles, Sara had been an undergrad in the computer science division at UC Berkeley. One morning a custodian found her at the base of the stairs in the Computer Sciences building. It looked like she had fallen down the stairs, and her skull was crushed. The police said she had died instantly. From the articles, it seemed like the police had questioned numerous people, David included, but they ended up making no arrests. One article went so far as to hint that David had hired someone to kill Sara, because she refused to marry him.