Chapter Eight

The truth was, Reece didn’t know exactly what day she’d been born. It had taken several days for the woman who birthed her to drop her off at the hospital, so the nurse handling her paperwork had guessed the twenty-fifth would be a good date to record.

Not that she didn’t appreciate the small gestures and texts from her friends, but she’d stopped celebrating with elaborate events after she left for college. This meant that every year on her made-up birthday, her father and brothers took her to lunch, and her mother mailed her the latest trendy purse or shoes from wherever she happened to be. It was less stressful than having to watch her divorced parents show up for some fake bonding time at an over-the-top celebration. Point being, birthdays weren’t that important to her.

Reece picked up her phone and stared at Vin’s text.

Can you cancel your plans for this evening?

The man had given her five orgasms but hadn’t kissed her once. Intentional? Didn’t matter. In the two days since she’d walked away from him, her glorious mood hadn’t changed. Not quite sure what to make of her new self, all she knew was that she couldn’t wait until the barbecue on Monday to see him again. But it was Saturday. Could that mean he wanted to see her? Did he know it was her fake birthday?

No plans.

I’d like to take you somewhere.

She stared at her phone, her heart hammering. Somewhere could be anywhere. Another check on her list? She couldn’t think of a better way to spend the evening.

“What’s with the smile?”

After lunch with her family, Reece and Amelie had met at their favorite spa, where they were lounging by the pool after having facials. Amelie had brought her laptop and had been playing around on the internet. Reece had been half napping before Vin’s text, and now she glanced over to where Amelie eyeballed her over the screen.

Show time. “I think I have a date tonight with Vincent Ferguson.”

Amelie took her time lowering the lid of her computer, a sly smile shaping her mouth. “Well, well, well. A date with our yummy neighbor. I’ll want details.”

Are you home?

Reece glanced back down at her phone—she still hadn’t answered his last text. Be home in an hour.

She stood and grabbed a towel. “I’ll tell you everything later. But I gotta go.”

Amelie shook her head. “I’ve never seen you so…flushed. Have fun.”

Reece raced back to the locker room, sped through a shower, and yanked her sundress over her head. With her hair still wet, she power walked back toward her condo. She assumed when he said he’d like to take her somewhere, he meant later that evening. But as she entered her condo and threw open her closet, wondering what to wear, the doorbell rang.

And he was there, looking obnoxiously like a Brioni model in a polo shirt and khaki shorts. He stood in leather loafers, grinning at her through the screen door. Holding a takeout container?

“Vin.” Her heart thumped wildly, and she didn’t even try to calm it. He’d come to see her. On a Saturday at three in the afternoon. How spontaneous.

He shrugged, a sheepish expression on his face, a gesture seemingly out of character for such a self-assured man. “May I come in?”

She stepped back and caught his crisp cologne as he entered, and she closed the door with a solid click. After setting his take-out container on the side table, his mouth was on hers.

Finally. Their first kiss.

She didn’t even care that her romantic brain categorized it. His lips pressed over hers at the same time his hands found her hips. She reached up to grab his bicep and felt the muscle flex. His tongue tasted her, and she licked him back with a fevered eagerness. This kiss wasn’t dainty or gentle; it was all passion. No kiss had prepared her for the way he lit her entire body on fire. His hands pressed her into his body, and she wanted to lift her leg, rub into him, climb over him. This was what he did to her, made her into a crazed animal.

They stumbled into the next room until her ass hit the dining table.

He paused, his shoulders rising and falling, his hands anchoring onto her shoulders. “I came here to talk, not to attack you.”

“I’m good with the attack.”

Why the hell would they waste time talking?

He stared at her for too long, his intense gaze locking her in place. What was going on in his head? His expression went wary, and he shook his head. She bit her lip, waiting for him to say something. He must have made up his mind, because he chuckled, a little sad sound, though. “Reece, I wish I could give you what you need.”

“You have no idea what I need.” Yes, he does, her stupid brain argued. He’d called it that day in his office. Hearts and flowers. She’d been disappointed they hadn’t kissed the other night. But the sex had been mind-blowing, and she didn’t want to overanalyze anything right now. She wanted to feel wanted. “What about what I want?”

“You want this.” He gestured between the two of them. “You want just sex.” His hand cupped her breast, and electricity shot through her whole body.

She nodded. “I want this.”

He released his hold on her breast and looked at the dining table, littered with letters and other papers. He shoved all the papers from the table and then snapped his fingers and pointed. “Right here.”

She slid up onto the table and reached out to touch his face. But he pulled back. Disappointment flooded through her. Maybe he didn’t like kissing her. If it was just sex…

“I almost forgot.” He stepped out of the room, and she groaned her frustration. When he returned with the opened takeout container, she saw a piece of carrot cake and guessed his intentions, even as his fingers dipped into the frosting and then he touched her lips. “I ordered this dessert at lunch today with the intention of sharing it with you.”

Her heart stalled as she licked the sugar. While he was at lunch with other people, he’d been thinking about her.

The sweet gesture hit her hard in the gut. Had lunch been boring, or had he missed her? Was the carrot cake his favorite, too, or a happy coincidence? When exactly did he decide to see her on a Saturday? She squeezed her eyes, as if the action would stop her traitorous heart from overthinking everything. He couldn’t do this to her—she couldn’t let him charm her. Where was the hot and heavy sex?

He dragged another finger of frosting across her mouth and licked her lips at the same time his hand reached up her dress. With unmatched skill, he removed her underwear. The next dollop of sugary goodness slid over her sensitive flesh, and he dropped to his knees to taste her. It wasn’t until right then she understood the phrase, “Eyeballs rolled to the back of her head.” He took his sweet time licking her skin clean. His tongue danced back and forth, alternating between teasing flicks and fierce swirls.

The pressure hit her hard and fast—too fast—as she mumbled, “I’m coming.”

His muffled response, “Say my name,” had her panting, “Vin. Yes, Vin…”

Her muscles spasmed and her body clenched and released. Endless waves of pleasure washed over her. She exhaled a satisfied sigh, even as her heart refused to calm down.

How had he done that to her? Made her come so completely? So swiftly?

She’d closed her eyes, but when she opened them, he stood, grinning down at her. She couldn’t help it. She laughed at the smug expression on his face. The man wrecked her, and he had the audacity to look proud of that fact.

Sliding off the table, she sank to her knees and looked up at him. With her fingers on his belt, she said, “It’s my turn.”

His jaw dropped, and then he chuckled, even as he yanked off his shirt and shorts. “You’re not like other women I’ve known.”

Which she guessed was better than being like other women he’d known, but still… “You don’t know me.”

His finger tucked under her chin and nudged it up until she met his intense stare. “I know where to touch you to make you come in under a minute.”

…

Vin stared at Reece as she slid back into her dress. The woman never ceased to surprise him. He wished he could figure her out, but she remained a damn mystery. Probably why he couldn’t get her out of his thoughts. Last night, when he’d rolled into the parking garage after a particularly grueling bout with the lawyers, he’d searched for her car and noted the modest sedan next to Amelie’s flashier Aston Martin. Then, today during lunch, instead of focusing on the status of the latest software release, he’d read an online interview where she mentioned carrot cake as her favorite dessert. Other than the size of her bank account, Reece displayed none of the stereotypical qualities of the other South Beach socialites.

She popped another piece of cake into her delicious mouth and mumbled, “Where are we going?”

Damn, but he wanted to go another round with her. More frosting, more cake, more everything. He pulled on his shirt and shorts then bent to pick up a scattered piece of paper.

This IPO deal consumed all his time. Well, except for these moments when he lost himself in Reece. She was the living, breathing catalyst that started him on this journey, and most days he wanted to take her down a notch for the humiliation she’d caused him on his eleventh birthday. But today, watching her throw back her head and come so eagerly at his command, he just wanted to please her.

She crouched down next to him. “You don’t have to help. I can get this later.”

“I made the mess. I’ll pick it up.” He picked up a letter and read, “Cosmopolitan.”

“Magazine subscription.” She took the envelope and tossed it on the table.

“For the articles?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Pictures.”

He laughed and moved to pick up the stack of scholarship applications that had somehow fallen with the binder clip still in place. He read the first page, and a memory flashed back to his own application. When Reece’s father had awarded him the scholarship. Did she really not know? Remember? Care?

“Those are definitely not fashion magazine articles.” She grinned, taking the papers from him. “My stepmother insists I read through the scholarships and learn about The Rowe Foundation.”

“Why?” He placed another pile of mail on the edge of the dining table.

She glanced down at the pages in her hand and frowned before tossing the stack on the table with a thump. “She wants me to take over.”

He could see that. Each Rowe had their place in the family fortune, and he’d seen firsthand how organized and adept she was at running a large-scale event. Now would be a good time to come clean. Tell her how much he’d appreciated the scholarship and not wasted the opportunity. He didn’t know why, but something compelled him to share with her about their shared history. To tell her about her specific part in his success. To tell her about his youth. About the birthday party. How she’d rejected him. About how he’d earned a Rowe scholarship back in the day, giving him the real boost he needed to attend a private high school and then a four-year college.

But something also held him back. Instinct? It was only because of her and her family’s money that he’d gotten anywhere in the first place. Which made him incredibly sad. Because no matter how hard he worked or how successful he became, he’d never be like her. One of their own. Born and raised with the confidence only secure wealth could offer a person. So he kept his mouth shut and reminded himself this was temporary. That she’d proposed sex, and all the rest was just fake.

She hadn’t balked when he’d said he couldn’t date her. Hadn’t argued or debated the issue. Just said she didn’t want to date him but that she wouldn’t say no to sex. Well, he knew that movie. Had seen the poor boy from the wrong side of the tracks fall in love with the rich girl. That wouldn’t be him. He owed his gratitude to the Rowes, but he wouldn’t give Reece his heart, too.

“Vin?” She crawled toward him on her hands and knees, pushing him off his haunches and climbing into his lap as he stretched his legs after landing on his ass. “Where are you taking me? Is this my second fantasy or your second event?” She kissed the tip of his nose. “I need to know what to wear.”

He focused on the evening he’d planned and not on how her breasts pressed into his chest. “A mixture of both. I thought we could stop by my colleague’s daughter’s art gallery opening, and since it’s right by the marina, and you mentioned a boat…”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and groaned low in his ear. “Yes. A boat.” She stood and sucked in the lower corner of her lip. Her whole face brightened, and she shot him a diabolical grin. “I know just what to wear.” After one more kiss, she sauntered up the stairs, calling back to him, “Give me fifteen.”

True to her word, in fourteen minutes she returned, wearing a matching skirt and sweater set that complemented his own outfit. Not that he cared much about fashion, but he’d learned the basics from his PR people. At the back door, she slipped into Sperry loafers and looped a small purse over her shoulder.

With a little twirl, she said, “Does this look okay?”

“Better than okay,” he confirmed, again realizing she was nothing like any other woman he’d ever known.

He was losing his mind.

He’d already lost track of how many times he’d replayed their waterfall sex in his mind when he should’ve been focusing on business. And it wasn’t just the sex. He’d been reviewing a project charter and recalled how she’d planned an entire fundraiser. Then, at some point during lunch that afternoon, he’d caught the scent of a sweet dessert. This reminded him he’d yet to taste Reece. Had he really fucked her without putting his mouth on her? He shook his head in dismay.

She opened the door, but he spun her around. “Before we go…” Then he dipped his head and claimed her mouth one more time. She blinked up at him, clearly surprised by his kiss, and he grinned. “Let’s go.”

“Event number two,” she said as they walked to the parking garage.

He went on high alert.

After today, he’d have only four more dates. Would that be enough for his team to land another investor? Maybe he should have been more calculating with the plan. Spread the dates out over six weeks instead of cramming three into one long weekend. But today hadn’t been preplanned. If he stuck to the plan, he wouldn’t see her until Monday. He felt her studying him as they approached his sedan.

He blew out a breath. “Only four more after tonight.”

He opened her door and stared at her legs as she slid in all graceful and shit, but he hadn’t even clicked his seat belt in place before she said, “Well, that up there”—she gestured in the general direction of her condo—“does not count as one of my six.”

He couldn’t hide his smile. “Of course not.”

“Good.” She folded her hands in her lap and gazed out the window.

As far as anyone else knew, Reece Rowe had perfected calm and collected, but Vin knew her secret. The woman had a wild streak.

As they exited the garage and he reached for his sunglasses, he said, “For the record, I think you’d be great at running your family’s foundation.”

He heard the suspicion in her voice when she asked, “How would you know?”

“The fundraiser,” he reminded her. “Pulling that off took some serious skills. I have project managers who could learn a trick or two from you.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw her shrug. “My master’s is in project management.”

Keeping his eyes on the road, he asked, “Are you avoiding my compliment?”

She gave a little smirky sound. “Fine. Thank you. Why don’t we focus on the art gallery and not on my education?”

At the stoplight, he glanced over at her. She’d put on dark designer sunglasses, looking poised and proper. “You might know the gallery owner. Lissette Larson. Her father is a former city commissioner, although he’s into banking these days.”

She pulled a tube of lipstick out of her purse. “Our fathers play racquetball the first of the month.”

The casual way she said it shouldn’t have surprised him. All the old, rich guys had connections. “Should’ve known you know a former commissioner.”

She caught his eye and grinned. “More like my father, but yeah, we’d recognize each other on the street.”

“We don’t have to stay too long.”

With her freshly applied gloss, her lips begged him to smudge them when she said, “Oh, yes. The boat.”