New York Billionaires Series

I’m more than happy to. “You have no idea how much I want you. How badly I want to taste you. You’d be sweet against my tongue, I know you would. I want to see you so fucking bad. Want you here right now. My cock’s about to burst, I’m so hard, and the only place I want to come is inside of you. To feel your sweet pu-”

“Oh my God.” Her breathing catches on the other end, and then catches again, before she moans softly in my ear. It’s long and drawn out and I can’t bear it for a second longer. Pleasure explodes from my spine, down my thighs and through my cock. I spill onto my stomach, pumping myself in hard strokes.

Behind my closed eyes is only starlight and Audrey.

“Fucking hell,” I curse.

She gives a breathless laugh. “Wow.”

My tired right hand falls to the bed bedside me. I stare up at the ceiling, trying and failing to catch my breath. “I haven’t come that hard in ages.”

“You came?”

I laugh. “Only with the force of a thousand suns, yeah.”

“I like that,” she says, and she sounds pleased. Almost proud. “I did too, actually.”

“I noticed. I liked that, too.”

I smile at the ceiling. I feel ten feet tall. A hundred. I wonder if I could ask her now if she’d go out with me and if she’d say yes. If she’d ask me the same, I’d give her anything.

“When do you get back? To New York?”

“Saturday evening,” I say.

“Oh. That’s good to know,” she says. “Carter, I don’t know… what happens now? Will this make it awkward?”

“You and awkwardness,” I say. “No. It won’t. You and I are the same as we were before.”

“Friends. And potentially daters,” she says, and then she giggles. It’s a very un-Audrey sound and it makes me smile. “God, I can’t believe I just did this with you. The wine definitely helped.”

“You’d been drinking before this?”

“Yes. Just a bit. We went to a wine bar.”

I close my eyes, and it’s not in pleasure this time. She’s been drinking. Did I pressure her into this somehow? And that fucking date. “Right.”

“Thank you, Carter. I don’t… wow. I think I’ll sleep like a baby after this.”

“Good. I’ll see you when I come back.”

“I look forward to it,” she says, and the shyness in her voice cuts straight through my chest. I don’t know what to think. Don’t know what to do. “Good night, Carter.”

“Night, kid.”

“Heading out already?” Declan asks dryly. He’s looking at my jacket with a frown. The blazer he’s wearing today isn’t tweed, but it has elbow patches. His hair looks like it’s been in a wind turbine and I bet it’s a hundred percent intentional.

“Yes,” I say, tying the waistband of my coat. “I have a dentist’s appointment, and I’ve already run it by Booker.”

His frown turns into a sympathetic smile. “Oh. I’m sorry. Good luck.”All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

“Thanks. Two wisdom teeth, and then an evening spent working at home. It’ll be fantastic.”

“Think you’ll be able to work on that anaesthesia? Send me a copy of the article you write, will you? I need a laugh.”

“Very funny,” I tell him, but I’m smiling, and he gives me a little wave. He’s warmed up to me, it seems.

I leave the frenzy of the office behind. The newsroom has two new staff members, which raised more than a few eyebrows company-wide considering the general hire freeze. Both are former private investigators.

“Snakes,” Booker had called them, but her tone had been admiring.

Carter is beefing up this department. There was an email just last week to the entire department that encouraged all personal projects. Pitches welcome, it had said.

Carter.

Just thinking about him sends a shiver down my spine, and it’s not uncomfortable. I can’t believe what had happened on Friday evening. It’s Monday today, and we haven’t spoken since. Not a single text.

I’ve written three different ones and then deleted every single one. Nothing feels normal. Nothing feels the same.

There had been something so freeing about our conversation… and about what had happened. He gave me the feeling that I could say anything, do anything, and he would be on board. He’d never laugh or reject me.

But he’s also my boss’s boss’s boss, the man who quite literally owns the newspaper I work at, and a relationship is so beyond inappropriate that it’s practically a crime. My colleagues would never respect me. Booker would… I don’t want to think about what Booker would say. Wesley would look at me like a bug.

None of that matters, though, when it’s just him and me.

When he’s sitting across from me in a diner in Queens or on the other end of the phone, his deep voice hoarse with the sound of his pleasure.

The elevator is empty as I ride it down. It’s only a little after lunch, and people are still hard at work. The lobby is mostly empty. I tug my bag up higher on my shoulder and look at my watch. I should make my appointment if the C-train isn’t late.

A group of suit-clad men enter the lobby. I pause to the side, waiting for them to pass through the revolving doors.

“Thanks,” one of them tells me.

“Of course,” I say.

At that, a tall man looks up. Auburn hair. Tawny eyes. Carter is among them, and he turns his head to meet my eyes as they pass.

My cheeks heat up with memory. He raises an eyebrow, and I give a tiny, teeny shake of my head. Not here. Not now. Not in front of other members of the executive team. He turns his head forward and keeps walking.

Disappears with the others into the elevators.

I breathe a sigh of relief. He’d looked just like he always did. Larger than life, impossible to understand, an enigma in a suit. Handsome and powerful and very clearly not for me.

I’ve almost convinced myself Friday was a fever dream when my phone chimes.

Carter: Leaving your post? It’s the middle of a work day.

My fingers shake just a little as I answer. Wasn’t he heading into a meeting?