How can it take so long to unbuckle a belt?
Becky’s gaze followed Ford’s hands, silently willing him to move faster. A minute ago, he’d been a wild animal, tearing at her clothes, biting her, sucking her flesh hard enough to extract the marrow from her bones. He’d switched to slow motion. She didn’t know how much longer she could remain upright.
She’d been in a constant state of arousal since the moment he’d activated the vibrator in her panties in the vestibule of the restaurant. Granted, the orgasm during the concert had taken the edge off, but the reprieve hadn’t lasted long. The elevator ride had put her body back to square one. She hurt. Actually hurt with her need to have him inside her.
Muscle memory. Her pussy knew the shape and size of him. Knew the delicious stretch as he entered her. Knew the regret as he slid back out. Thrilled at the anticipation of feeling the stretch as he filled her again. And had ached for it every minute of every day, it seemed.
“Let me.” Carefully stepping free of her clothes, she approached, searched his eyes for a sign of the beast she craved tonight and found it. There. Leashed but straining against his cage. Holding his gaze, her fingers found the button in the center of his chest. He froze. Becky popped the fastener free then went to work on the next one. And the next, until the fabric parted. She flattened her palms on his abdomen, traced the lines of his six-pack. “You’re wearing too many clothes, Kinky.”
He smirked at the nickname he’d been given by one of the reporters who had interviewed him earlier in the year. Becky turned her hands, brushed her knuckles over his flat nipples. A shiver racked his body, and he sucked in a harsh breath, but he made no attempt to stop her. Her fingers skimmed lower, into the waistband of his slacks. It took nothing to release the hook closure. Less to slide the zipper down.
She read the warning in his eyes— Don’t poke the animal. Too late… she already had her hand inside his boxers.
“Becks.” His eyelids dropped, a muscle ticked in his clenched jaw. He groaned and rocked into her hand. Once. Twice. “Goddamnit, Becks.” His fingers manacled her wrist. His eyes popped open. “Stop.”
She knew she should heed the warning, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. For whatever reason, she needed it wild tonight. No holding back. Hot. Messy. Maybe brutal. Sex. She wrapped her fingers around his cock and squeezed.
The beast broke free, took her to the floor. She opened for him, but not far enough to please him. He wrenched her knees up and out. Held her there. With a feral growl, he bent and buried his face in her pussy. The scent of arousal, hers and his, wrapped around them. Becky threw her hands over her head, sought an anchor to ground her as he took her up and up toward a pinnacle higher than she’d ever climbed before. As frightening as it was, as hard as she knew she’d fall, she needed to fly off that cliff. Needed Ford to push her over the edge. No one else. Just him. Always him.
He took her relentlessly. As if he sensed her need, he feasted on her, bruising with his tongue, scraping her tender flesh with his teeth. Her body belonged to him. The beast controlled her, positioned her where he wanted, took what he wanted—and gave her what she needed.
She felt like one of those giant slingshots being stretched back. Back. Back. Every muscle in her body ached under the strain. For what seemed like an eternity, she froze in limbo. Wound too tight to let go. Wound too tight to remain still. Then he speared his tongue inside her, and the carnality of the act snapped her hold on reality.
The world she knew ceased to exist. She flew into the unknown on the wings of the most explosive orgasm of her life where pain and pleasure became one. Yet still she reached for something… something more.
Then he was there, blanketing her with his warmth, his strength—filling her. “Ford!” She rode the wave with him until neither one could stop the tide. They came together in a breathless rush. Becky held on to his broad shoulders and wished the night would never end.
~~~
With a smile, Becky greeted everyone who stopped at their booth, handing out the KeyP Me Safe keychain/flashlight/vibrators they’d brought along as giveaways. Somehow, she managed to answer the questions coming her way, but with Ford standing a few feet away, thinking about anything other than the night before proved damn near impossible. More than once, he’d stepped in to fill in the blanks where her brain had failed her.
The convention was their first opportunity to network with the various retailers who stocked their products. Since Adams Manufacturing had launched their own sales platform—going into direct competition with them—maintaining a good relationship with them had to be a priority. They’d lost a few with the move into direct sales, but not all. She had a plan to bring the others back into the fold with discounted advertising on their Adult Shopping Network and the promise of exclusive product launches.
But it required her complete concentration on business—something she could not even pretend to do with Ford so near. When he whipped out a sample of his latest invention to show to a potential new client, she excused herself and went in search of someplace she could be alone. It turned out to be a stall in the ladies’ room, where she closed her eyes and gave in to the memories tugging at her mind and her heart.
After screwing like mad on the floor, Ford had carried her to bed where he’d finished undressing then returned to the other room to retrieve her panties. Wearing nothing but a wicked smile, he slipped them back on her. Product testing, he’d said as he searched his phone. A few seconds later, music spilled from a small, portable speaker on the nightstand.
He removed the lapel-pin microphone and the wireless control box from his coat and set them on the nightstand before crawling in bed with her.
“I downloaded this music just for this,” he’d said. Then he’d turned the device on.
Tears threatened as she recalled the way he’d touched and kissed her while the music played low in the background, converted to a tactile sensation between her legs by his invention. Then, when she didn’t think she could take any more, he’d pushed the crotch of the panties to one side and entered her. It had been the complete opposite of their frenzied coupling on the floor, and where the first time had wrecked her physically, the slow, sensual mating to the strains of a symphony orchestra shattered her.
She couldn’t even pretend to deny it any longer. She was in love with K. Ford Adams—the kinky bastard. He liked to pretend he didn’t care about anything but the bottom line, but she’d seen another side of him.
The new HR department answered to her, so the day Ford had walked in and asked which employees had been there the longest, she heard about it. They day he called them all together and handed them bonus checks—drawn from his personal account—she heard about it.
The day one of their new employees totaled his car on the way to work and Ford went to the hospital to check on the man, she heard about it. And when he paid the deductible on the man’s car insurance so he could get a new car, she heard about it.
There wasn’t much Ford did she didn’t know about. He was a caring and generous employer, and he cared about Butte Plains, too. Someone had paid to rebuild the broken-down gazebo in the square, and it sure as heck hadn’t been the city council. No, the money had come from Ford Adams. Word had it he walked into City Hall one day and handed the mayor a check—told the man to fix the gazebo and anything else in need of repair. He’d said Adams Manufacturing had a reputation to uphold, and he couldn’t do it if his clients saw a rundown town when they came to visit. Everyone knew most visitors to the plant never went past the town square or drove downtown to see the newly repaired antique streetlights or the fresh-as-a-daisy floral baskets hanging from them. Ford had done what he’d done for the people of Butte Plains. He cared. Deeply.
It’s why she loved him—not because of the way he made her feel when they made love. Feeling loved and cherished was just a nice bonus.
Becky returned to the booth to find Ford had taken a potential client to lunch, leaving the booth in the capable hands of the staff they’d brought along. She had just finished going over the schedule for the rest of the day when her brother arrived. Colin might not think he’d made it yet, but judging from the reaction of the young women in her employ when she introduced him, he’d already made it big. He stood signing autographs for them and the crowd that had gathered, when the last person on earth Becky wanted to see approached the booth.
Determined to be nice even if it killed her, she plastered a smile on her face and greeted the woman. “Veronica. I didn’t know you were in Vegas.”
The witch smiled and tugged a man forward. Becky supposed he might be handsome, but not like Ford. Jiminy, when had she started comparing every man she met to her partner?
“Becky Jean Parker, this is Carter Hargraves. He’s the—”
“I know who he is.” An icy shiver ran down her spine. What in heaven’s name was Veronica doing with the CEO of Toy Haven? And why would she bring him over to introduce him?
Though warning bells rang in her brain making it difficult hear, she tried her best to be civil. Becky extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Hargraves.”
“Can we go somewhere to talk?” he said, taking her hand.
The bells clanged louder. “About?”
“Mr. Hargraves is interested in purchasing your share of Adams Manufacturing,” Veronica said.
Becky removed her hand from the man’s grasp and turned her attention to the woman beside him. She couldn’t have heard correctly. “What?”
“Surely you know Ford is going to sell. Then what will you do? Carter wants your 25 percent, too.”
A giant pit opened up inside her, her heart teetering on the edge. “Wait. Are you telling me Ford has agreed to sell to you?”
“Of course he did.” Veronica laughed. “You didn’t think he would stay in Butt F— Butte Plains forever, did you?”
The brakes on her personal roller coaster car failed. Her heart lurched over the crest and fell all the way to her toes.
“His home is in New York. With me.” She delivered the last two words with a deadly smile.
Becky took a step back, right into her brother. “Hey, Sis. Ready to go?”
“Uh.”
“Carter Hargraves,” the man said. “We saw your concert last night. You’re good.”
“Thanks,” Colin said. “Colin Parker.” He leaned around her to shake hands with the woman who had just eviscerated her.
“Veronica Ramsey,” she said, her voice dripping with syrup. “You and Becky Jean…?”
“Siblings,” her brother said. “She never stops reminding me who’s older.”
“Listen,” Hargraves said. “We were just going to invite your sister to lunch. Why don’t you join us?”
A heartbeat later, Becky sat at a table in a swanky Italian restaurant with her celebrity brother and the two people in the world she wished she’d never met. How she’d gotten there, she didn’t know. How she would get out without causing a scene, she didn’t care. Maybe she could excuse herself to the bathroom and find a back exit. She had her purse. She could call a cab, go straight to the airport and catch a flight to Dallas. Judging from the looks the witch exchanged with her brother, she’d be home before anyone missed her.
A good big sister would warn Colin about Veronica, but she had to admit, she was grateful for deflecting the woman’s attention away from her. If he could keep it up, perhaps the conversation she dreaded would never take place.
Attentive waiters came and went, delivering wine, bread, and plates of food she didn’t recall ordering. It was as if she looked through a mirror, observing an alternate universe where another version of herself resided. This other Becky smiled and spoke when spoken to. She even ate a few bites when real Becky’s stomach felt like a lead ball. She heard Hargrave’s offer, but couldn’t process it. The dollar amount sounded ridiculous to someone who still emptied her coin purse into a jar every evening.
Less than a year ago, the cost of this meal alone would have bankrupted her. That she could afford it, and more, staggered her. As she mentally tallied the changes in her life, she knew one thing for certain, none of it meant anything if she didn’t have Ford.
Other Becky said, “Ford agreed to sell?”
“He will. He’s holding out for a better price,” Veronica said. “It’s all about the money with him. Always has been.”
Funny. Since she’d gotten to know Ford, she’d come to the conclusion the money didn’t matter that much to him. He enjoyed his work. Enjoyed being compensated for it, but even when he’d thought the failing plant might eat up everything he had, he hadn’t seemed particularly bereft. In fact, he’d seen his predicament as a challenge—one he’d risen to, conquered. Just as he’d conquered her heart.
“I don’t have an answer for you today, Mr. Hargraves. I hadn’t planned to sell. I need time to think about your offer.”
“You won’t get a better offer,” Veronica stated. Her words were as flat as the line of her lips.
Why did it matter so much to her if Becky sold? It was Ford she wanted, Ford she needed to convince to sell. The proverbial lightbulb flicked on in her head. She knew exactly what Veronica planned. You lying bitch. Real Becky straightened her spine. “I’ve got to go.” She cocked her head at her brother then reached for her purse. Colin stood and held her chair for her to rise. Star or not, he had the manners of a Southern gentleman.
“Take my card.” Carter reached into his jacket pocket. “Call me when you’ve made your decision.”
Ignoring the card he held out, she said, “That won’t be necessary. I’ve made my decision. I’m not selling. Not unless Ford is.”
The shock on Veronica’s face told her everything she needed to know. Ford hadn’t agreed to sell. They were hoping Becky would sign on the dotted line, and they could use her share as leverage to convince her partner to do the same. “Thanks for lunch,” she said, knowing full well the bill had not yet arrived.
“What was that all about?” Colin asked as soon as they hit the sidewalk.
“You just witnessed Veronica Ramsey at her best.” Wanting to put as much distance between her and the wicked witch of the east, she walked at a brisk pace. “As far as I can tell, no one has ever told her no. It’s about time she learned the world doesn’t revolve around her.”
“I don’t know. She seemed nice enough.”
Becky stopped so suddenly the guy walking behind her had to take evasive measures to avoid knocking her over. “What? Are you insane?” She fisted her hands on her hips and glared at her brother whose familiar smile goaded her on. “Do. Not. Get. Involved. With that witch, Colin Parker. She’s bad news. Spoiled. Entitled. She wants Ford!”
“And she can’t have him. I get it, Becks.”
“He’s mine.”
Colin’s smile widened. “Yes, he is.”
For the longest time, she stared at her brother. Then his words sank in. Her words sank in. She groaned and leaned against the nearest light pole.
“You should tell him, Becks.”
“I know.” She shifted her gaze to the flashing marquee on the casino down the street. “What if she’s right and he does want to go back to New York?”
Colin shrugged. “I’ve been there. It’s not so bad. It ain’t Texas, but nothing is.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” She’d go anywhere Ford wanted to go, even New York. “What if he wants to go back to her?” She used her thumb to gesture back to the restaurant they’d just left.
“Maybe he just needs a reason to stay.” He cocked one eyebrow at her.
She nodded, and for the first time since Veronica had shown up at their booth, her smile came easy. “Maybe he does.”