Tycoon Takedown (6 page)

Melanie couldn’t speak, she was so hypnotized by her need for him. He ran her hand across her own breast. “Touch where you want my mouth. Show me, Melanie. Show me what you want.”

Melanie brought her hand up to her lips and boldly circled her finger with her own tongue, testing his response. He hauled her to him and claimed her mouth, thrusting between her lips and seeking out the tongue sh
e’d
teased him with. He drew her into his mouth and they met with a frenzy Melanie had never before experienced. She was outside herself, lost to the sensations he elicited in her, a slave to her own desire.

Then he stopped.

And looked down into her eyes.

She touched the spot just below her right ear and gasped when his mouth followed her command. Everything sh
e’d
experienced earlier was repeated, but this time with a sense that sh
e’d
requested it and he was delivering in spades. There was a heady power in knowing she was guiding their coupling.

And it made her bolder.

She brought his hand to her mouth, licked it, and placed it on her left breast. Once again she experienced the wet delight of him circling, then sucking. He laved one of her breasts so thoroughly she thought sh
e’d
come again, then moved on to the other and Melanie was reduced to whimpering.

He stopped again and raised his head. She swallowed hard and turned before him, moving her hair to the side and exposing her back to him. He groaned and ran his hand from her shoulder down the length of her and rubbed between her buttocks. He kissed the back of her neck, then down her spine, and nipped one of her ass cheeks. Melanie shook from the sensations coursing through her.

Right or wrong, it felt too good to stop.

He spun her unexpectedly and pushed her backward until her legs hit the side of the bed and she sank down into it. Then, without waiting for further instruction, he pulled her forward so she was sitting on the very edge and, still fully dressed, knelt before her. With a hand on either of her knees, he spread her wide for him and smiled in a predatory fashion that made Melanie’s heart thud loudly in her chest.

He ran one finger over the outer edge of her half-closed lower lips. “I can’t get enough of you.” His hot breath warmed her inner thighs. With two strong fingers, he separated her outer folds and blew on her clit. Melanie’s hands tightened on the bedcovers beneath her. His tongue, which had danced within her mouth, now ran the length of her bottom lovingly. Wetting. Tasting. Claiming.

Lost in the feel of him lapping her, circling her, thrusting his thick wet tongue inside of her again and again, Melanie dropped back on the bed and once again gave herself over to the experience. Her head rolled back and forth helplessly as she writhed against his mouth.

He blew on her exposed clit again and Melanie shuddered. His other hand ran up her stomach and roughly massaged her breast. His breathing became harsher. He thrust his tongue deeply into her as his hand on her waist tightened painfully, but it was a pain she welcomed.

He pulled back and the cold air of the room was its own brash caress. He alternated circling her clit with his tongue with deep, bold thrusts that left her breathless and begging for release.

When she was nearing orgasm for the second time that day, he stood and shed his clothing, pausing only to sheathe himself with a condom before lifting up her hips, holding her legs on either side of him, leaving her draped down against the bed before him.

His first thrust was deep and sure. Melanie’s body strained to accept the size of him as he pounded into her. She moved back and forth with him, unable to reach him with her hands. He controlled their rhythm and their connection.

She gave herself completely over to his control with a level of passion sh
e’d
never dreamed possible. In that moment, she was his to do with as he wished. It didn’t make sense to her, but it didn’t have to. Not while her body quivered and clamored for him to drive himself deeper into her.

And he did. His powerful thrusts pounded her again and again until he came with an animallike cry. She joined him, coming with her own shuddering cry and collapsing in the aftermath of it.

He withdrew and walked across the room to clean himself off. When he didn’t immediately join her on the bed, she moved farther onto the mattress and pulled her legs up, wrapping the sheet around her.
No. No. No.
The past circled like a vulture she was powerless to fend off.
He’s not Todd and I’m not an insecure young girl who needs to know he’ll call me tomorrow.

Still, the passionate man from a moment before was gone and in his place was a composed stranger she couldn’t read. His withdrawal after the intimacy was devastating.

He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, then closed it again and frowned. She hugged the sheet closer to her.
All you have to do, Charles, is crawl back into this bed and hold me. Just let me lay in your arms and have a few hours of believing you care about me.

A few hours of not feeling so utterly alone.

She hated the tears that clouded her vision and hated him for not giving her what she couldn’t ask for. For making her feel even lonelier than she had when sh
e’d
landed in this godforsaken city. He just stood there frowning down at her, clearly regretting what the
y’d
done and seeking the words to tell her.

Shame nipped at her.

If I don’t die from the mortification of this, I swear I’m done with men.

And that starts with you, Charles Dery.

Charles stood frozen in the middle of the room, watching Melanie get more upset, and feeling like more and more of an ass with each passing minute. This was exactly what h
e’d
wanted to avoid. Yes, h
e’d
wanted her, but not like this.

She was waiting for him to speak, but he was running internal damage control. Everything h
e’d
imagined saying no longer fit the situation now that h
e’d
seen tears welling in her eyes. H
e’d
rushed her and he hadn’t intended to.

H
e’d
planned a nice dinner, followed by a recommendation that they spend time together that week. H
e’d
imagined all the delicious ways he could persuade her to give in to him, but h
e’d
resolved to talk to her first. She needed to know he couldn’t offer her anything long-term.

If she agreed to his terms, then and only then, would he have had her.

Now she was curled up defensively on his bed, and he was furious with himself. He stepped into his trousers and frowned as he sought what to say to her. “Melanie, I’m sorr
y . . .
” He realized it was a poor choice of words when angry fire shot from her eyes.

She hopped up and, still holding a sheet protectively around herself, wordlessly gathered her clothing. He took a step toward her, then stopped when she glared up at him. In a heartbeat she was dressed and stomping her feet into her boots.

He reached for her but she evaded him. “Don’t touch me.”

The pain in her eyes tore at him. “Melani
e . . .
”

She didn’t say anything else, just looked around the room for her purse impatiently. When she spotted it, she swung it over her shoulder and started heading for the door. Still bare-chested, he blocked her way. Somehow he had to make her see that he wasn’t rejecting her. “Don’t go. We need to talk. I want—”

She pushed at him angrily. “Do you know what I want?” she growled.

He shook his head.

“I want this goddamned day to be over. I want you to stay the hell away from me while I try to forget this ever happened. Can you do that for me?”

Guilt rushed in, the only force strong enough to stop him from grabbing her and forcing her to listen to him. The anguish in her eyes was real and so was the remorse he felt. When she looked up at him with her heart in her eyes, even his ability to articulate how he felt left him. He didn’t want her to go, but he wasn’t ready to ask her to stay.

The door of his apartment slammed behind her as she left.

Charles strode into the living room and punched the wall beside the door sh
e’d
walked through.

I’m as fucked up as Mason says I am.

She’s better off without me.

Chapter Six

“
Hello, is Todd Jones available?” Melanie asked into her phone as she sat at the small desk in her hotel room.

“This is Todd.”

“Did you attend Baylor University?”

The line went dead. Melanie calmly checked off the correct column on her growing list. Originally there had been only two columns: “Yes” and “No.” Ten men into her list of Todds to call, sh
e’d
added a new option: “Unable to determine.”

Calling Todd’s parents would have been the more efficient route, but last night with Charles had reminded her of the perils of being spontaneous.
I will do this the right way. I’ll find him, watch him, then make an educated decision about how to move forward before I tell anyone anything.

Memories from the night before still stung her pride.

I’ll survive.
I’m a big girl.

I’m not the first woman to have a one-night stand with a man I shouldn’t have and I’m sure I won’t be the last.

Melanie called the next Todd on her list. A man answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Hello, I’m looking for Todd Jones.”

“You got him.”

Taking a deep breath, Melanie asked, “Is there any chance that you attended Baylor in Waco, Texas?”

After a moment of consideration, the man answered, “Why do you want to know?”

Because I may have slept with you? Because you may have a son who wants to meet you? Because after last night I deserve to ask every Todd in New York if he’s the man I had sex with in college. Maybe then I’ll remember why I’m here and what’s really important.
“I’m hoping to connect with an old friend.”

“And you think I’m him?”

Melanie closed her eyes and rubbed an eyebrow in frustration. “You could be.”

“Piece of advice? Forget the guy. If you don’t remember his voice, he didn’t mean that much to you.”

“I wish it were that simple,” Melanie said sadly.

The man on the other side of the line sighed. “
I’d
love to help you, but I’ve never been to Texas. I hope you find him.”

Emotion tightened Melanie’s throat. “Thank you.”

She opened her eyes, hung up the phone, and put a check in the “No” column.

Only sixty Todds to go.

Squaring her shoulders, she called the next number.

“Hello?” a woman answered.

“I’m looking for Todd Jones.”

“Who is this?”

“A friend?” Melanie said awkwardly.

“I’m going to kill him! He said he was done cheating. I can put up with the drinking if he’s faithful, but he can’t keep it in his pants, can he? My friends told me to leave him, but did I take their advice? No. I believed him—”

“Wait, you don’t understand.”

“Oh trust me, I understand perfectly. He told you he was divorced right? Or dying? Or is he making up some new story for this round? Maybe this time I’m dead?”

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have called.”

“You did me a favor. Believe me—”

“No, listen, even if your Todd is the one I’m looking for, I haven’t seen him in years.”

“Then you’re the lucky one,” the woman said and hung up.

Well, that went well.

Melanie studied her list and added a new column—“HELL NO, even if it is him”—and put a check beneath it. That was one Todd Jones who would never meet Jace.

With a tired stretch, Melanie stood and walked to the window of her hotel room. The way the trip was going, Todd probably lived in Alaska no
w . . .
or Australia.

She should have taken the money Sarah offered and hired a private detective.

What am I going to do if I find him? Follow him around the city until I’m convinced he’s not dangerous?

Melanie took two papers out of her back pocket. She threw Charles’s card in the trash and looked at the other one.
Todd’s parents.
A quick glance at the clock revealed she would once again be calling them in the middle of the night.

Another wasted day.

Glad I don’t keep a journal. I don’t need written proof to see a pattern.

Everyone is gifted in something. I’m an exceptional procrastinator when it comes to facing something I don’t want to.

Melanie took out her cell phone and called Sarah for a video chat. A picture of Sarah became live feed of the smiling blonde woman.

“Melanie, you’re early. Jace is in the barn with Tony. Looks like Midnight will foal tonight or tomorrow. Jace didn’t want to miss it. Want me to call him in?”

Melanie sat heavily down in the chair in front of the small desk. “In a minute. I need to talk to you first.”

Sarah’s smile fell away and she brought the phone closer to her face. “Did something happen? Did you find Jace’s father?”

“Not yet,” Melanie said, not even sure yet what she wanted to say to Sarah, though just hearing the voice of her only close friend was a comfort. Melanie lived only a few towns over from where sh
e’d
grown up. Sh
e’d
had friends sh
e’d
known from before sh
e’d
started kindergarten. She always thought the
y’d
grow old while living close by one another, but then sh
e’d
attended a different college from the rest of the crowd. Sh
e’d
wanted to see more of the world. When she found out she was pregnant, some had rallied to her side, but Melanie had been too angry to accept their support. Sh
e’d
distanced herself from them just as sh
e’d
distanced herself from her family.

Funny thing about the world—it goes on with or without you. When sh
e’d
turned down one invitation after the next, they stopped coming. Her old friends had graduated, married, and started families. Some had stayed local and some had moved away.

All while Melanie had hidden on Tony Carlton’s ranch and blamed everyone but herself for how her life had turned out. Hidden with her boss, who had been just as bitter as she was.

Until Sarah had come into their lives and made them both believe in second chances. She was the most openly loving and understanding person Melanie had ever met. One would think someone that optimistic had lived a charmed life, but she hadn’t.

Sarah had come to Texas with more than luggage and her horse. Sh
e’d
brought a whole lot of guilt and sadness with her, also. Her younger brother had drowned while she, still a child herself, had been watching him, and that loss had, according to Sarah, shattered her family.

People talk about how strong families are, but no one warns that they can also be as fragile as glass left out in the snow. One wrong tap and they shatter into hundreds of irreparable pieces.

Or so Melanie had thought before she met Sarah.

Sarah’s family may have been ravaged by a tragedy, but she hadn’t given up. Sh
e’d
refused to be defined by her mistakes.

Melanie didn’t consider Jace a mistake. She couldn’t imagine her life without him. But she wasn’t proud of how sh
e’d
handled herself since his birth. Until sh
e’d
met Sarah, sh
e’d
let that disappointment in herself shape how she saw herself and what she considered herself capable of.

Not anymore. For that transformation, Sarah would always own a special place in Melanie’s heart. “Sarah, I came here because I thought I could make things better, but what if I make them worse? What if none of this was a good idea?”

Sarah gave her the encouragement Melanie knew she would. “There is no way to know until you do it. But you’re a good mother, Melanie. Trust your instincts.”

Melanie blinked back tears and looked away. “That’s the point. I don’t know if I have any. I thought I did. Now I’m so confused.”

Case in point, sleeping with Charles.

“Do you want me to fly up there? David and Tony can watch Jace.”

“No, I’m okay,” Melanie said quickly. Having Sarah join her in New York was the same as admitting that she couldn’t do this alone. And it was important to Melanie to prove to herself that she could.

“I’ll call Charles. He’s really good at giving advice. Trust me, really good. Most of the time you don’t even have to ask for it.”

“No,” Melanie said emphatically.

A line of concern wrinkled Sarah’s forehead. “Did he say something to offend you? He doesn’t mean to. He’s really a big softy once you get to know him.”

A beep on Melanie’s phone revealed an incoming call.

Charles.

It’s like he knows we’re talking about him.

She let his call ring through to voice mail.

“Please don’t call your brother. He’s done more than enough for me.”

“If you’re sure,” Sarah said doubtfully.

“I couldn’t be more so,” Melanie said firmly. Changing the subject, Melanie asked, “Do you mind taking your phone out to Jace?
I’d
like to talk to him before I lie down, in case I fall asleep.”

“Absolutely,” Sarah said. As she walked to the barn, she continued to talk. “Don’t think you have to go through this by yourself, Mel. If you need me, just call me. I don’t care what time it is.”

Love for her friend spread through Melanie, giving her the strength sh
e’d
been looking for. She put on a brave face in preparation for talking to her son. “I’m probably just tired today. Thank you, Sarah. For everything.”

“Mama!” Jace exclaimed as soon as Sarah approached him with her phone. All of Melanie’s concerns took a backseat to the joy she felt listening to her son tell her about his day.

An image of Charles hovered, but she beat it back.

This is what’s important.

It was well past midnight when Charles sat up in his bed and flipped on the light. He threw back the bedcovers and, dressed only in boxers, went onto the large balcony of his apartment. He might have been trying to sleep, but New York never did. He found the sound of traffic below soothing.

Nothing has changed, he told himself. He was exactly where he belonged.

He didn’t need a woman coming into his life and confusing him when he was so close to having everything he needed.

A woman who doesn’t even answer my phone calls.

He rested his elbows on the railing, leaned forward with a sigh, and ran his eyes wearily over the surrounding buildings. Even this late at night, some offices were illuminated, most likely by people eager to achieve even a slice of what he had.

Should he tell them the ugly truth that he was just now starting to realize?

Offer rare personal advice?

Go home—if you still have someone to go home to. Being at the top feels empty if you have no one to share it with.

He slammed a hand down on the railing in frustration. H
e’d
always considered himself one of those men wh
o’d
been born to be a bachelor. H
e’d
never wanted the complicated mess marriage and kids brought. H
e’d
never understood why any man would.

If the twisting in his gut were merely loneliness, calling any of the single women in his social circle would have sufficed. This was more than that.

Fight it as he tried, something about Melanie called to a part of him h
e’d
denied for years. She was real in a way few people in his circle were. He barely knew her. But he wanted to.

He wanted that more than he had wanted anything in a very long time.

Calling her again wasn’t an option he liked considering, but he needed to hear her voice—to make sure she was okay. In business, Charles was known for being decisive and dogged. He didn’t back down. He set a goal and destroyed whatever and whoever stood between him and achieving it. He was a man who was used to winning.

By some men’s definitions, h
e’d
won when it came to Melanie. H
e’d
wanted her and h
e’d
had her. But the price had been higher than he could have guessed.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face and the hurt sh
e’d
tried to conceal beneath her anger as sh
e’d
left him.

Anyone else would have hauled her back into bed and put her fears to rest. She thought he didn’t care about her—he could tell. But he did. His initial instincts about her had been correct. She wasn’t the type to have sex casually. H
e’d
seen it in her eyes when sh
e’d
looked up at him, naked and vulnerable—waiting for him to proclaim something or callously walk away.

He wasn’t the type to do either, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care. Which was what he would have explained to her if sh
e’d
been ready to hear him. The idea that she was hurting because of him was unbearable. He walked into his apartment and found his cell phone.

Melanie answered in a voice husky and groggy from sleep. “Hello?”

“It’s me.”

He heard a rustle of bedcovers, the click of a light, and then an audible groan. “It’s one
o’c
lock in the morning.”

“We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t. I’m hanging up now.”

He refused to let this conversation end as their last one had. “Yo
u’d
rather discuss this in person?”

“
I’d
rather you take the hint and go away.”

He took a deep breath and pushed forward honestly. Somehow, he would make her understand. “I never meant to hurt you. I shouldn’t have slept with you. We should have taken it slower. That was my fault. I’m—”

“If you say you’re sorry, I will scream. I used to think that not being called after sex was the worst thing that could happen, but I was wrong. I don’t want to hear all the reasons why what we did was a bad idea. You think I don’t know them? I do. I feel bad enough without you listing them for me. I don’t need this. Don’t call me again.”

The line went dead.

Charles threw his phone onto the bed.

Fuck.

He paced back and forth, angry with himself for calling her, angry with her for making him feel even more like a heel.