Dare Me Forever (7 page)

“Jenna, I also wanted
to ask you here to tell you that I’m not upset about you’re not
having all the information I requested. I know you are waiting to
hear back from other parties.” She looked at me gratefully. “This
project is important, and I’m glad to have someone like you on the
team.”

She thanked me and left
the office. I didn’t usually go for the affirmation pep talks, but
this woman was doing a brilliant job and I needed her to know it.

I’d gotten a lot
done, especially as I only had a few hours to work before the gym and
before I was meeting Amy. I’d had my secretary order some food for
a small beachside picnic and pick me up a bottle of wine. She seemed
surprised when I asked her, but quickly tried to hide it. I wasn’t
one for picnics usually, but it seemed like a good idea. And I hadn’t
been to the beach at sunset in ages. If anyone needed to reach me, I
always had my cell on. I didn’t want my team to think I was
slacking off.

I left work a bit early
so I could go to the gym before meeting Amy at the beach. I only
allowed myself one day off a week from exercise, and after today’s
stress, I was happy to take a long run on the treadmill and sweat off
all the annoyance of the day. Sound body, sound mind.

On the treadmill,
halfway through my usual five miles, I found myself thinking of Amy.
I hadn’t even slept with her--hell I’d barely even
touched
her--but I was already excited about seeing her that night and at the
fundraiser, even if it seemed like she might be coming with me as a
favor.

I didn’t do
relationships. I was too busy, “emotionally unavailable”
according to my last few girlfriends. It wasn’t true—no one got
how hard I’d worked to be where I was. I couldn’t give it all up
now.

I wiped the sweat off
my face with one of the gym’s towels.

After my dad took off,
my mum was just barely making ends meet. She had long hours, and I
would often be alone in our flat, agonizing over my coursework. I’d
worked hard at school, but it was the chance I got working at a
school mate’s family business that changed the course of my life.
My friend, Nigel’s father owned a construction company. That family
was by far the most well off in the area. His father, Mr. Martin took
a liking to me, and the summer I turned thirteen decided to give me
some work. At first, I did small jobs, but when the other guys saw
that I’d work hard, I earned their respect. By working on the crew
every summer and break I could, I learned how things worked from the
inside, bottom up. Eventually, Mr. Martin had me learn the books. But
he never let me work when I was in school. He always pushed me to
excel there. He said it mattered. He was right.

Now on my own projects,
I was shrewd. When other people along the supply chain tried to
convince me why they were behind schedule or why something was
breaking the budget, I could see through their excuses. My bullshit
meter was strong from working every angle of the business myself,
often with my own bare hands.

If Hunter thought I was
going to slow down, give him a pass, he was wrong. I wasn’t ever
going to pull back.

Amy

After I closed the
store, I spent a few minutes in the bathroom redoing my make-up. I
was glad I’d worn this turquoise top that brought out my eyes and
my favorite pair of skinny jeans. I just needed to stop by the liquor
store down the street to get a bottle of wine on my way to the beach.
I didn’t know what kind of wine Ryan liked, but I assumed he was
probably used to drinking really expensive labels. I wasn’t, but I
felt confident with the white wine that the seller said everybody
liked. I took a few cups from the store and slipped them into the
brown paper bag along with the bottle. I was all set.

I hurried along Sierra
Road, and turned the corner to the beach. The sun was beginning to go
down—probably in thirty minutes or so it would be dark. I lived so
close to the beach, but I hadn’t watched the sunset over the ocean
in ages. It was already breathtaking. The sky was turning a light
rose pink as the sun moved closer to being swallowed by the sea. I
took off my sandals, feeling the cool sand between my toes. I’d
painted them a bright pink.

I was really excited to
see Ryan, but sometimes the line between excitement and anxiety was
so close that it’s hard to tell how you’re really feeling. I kept
slipping between the two. So what if he was the hottest guy I’d
ever seen? So what if he had an accent to die for? Who was I kidding?
I cared, a lot.

I took a deep breath
and walked toward the lifeguard’s station we’d agreed to meet
near. Ryan was already there. His back was to me, and he was staring
out at the Pacific, sitting on a plush beach blanket. Just looking at
him gave me butterflies. When I was near enough, I called his name.

He turned and stood up.
His green eyes squinted into a smile when he saw me. “Amy, hi.
Isn’t this gorgeous?” He gestured toward the sea. “I love how
this ocean seems to go on forever, the endless beauty. The sea in
England doesn’t have this uplifting feeling, but the grey sky and
rain probably doesn’t help it any.” He chuckled. “Come sit, let
me pour you a glass of wine.” He had out his own bottle, two wine
glasses, and a plate with fruit, crackers, and what I guessed was
some very fancy cheese.
Wow.

I handed him the wine
I’d bought. “I hope you like this. I wasn’t sure what you liked
to drink...” I shrugged and felt that nervous babbling feeling.
Ryan smiled at me.

“Thanks. Should we
open yours first?” He pulled out the cork easily, and we sat down
next to each other. I was still feeling all fluttery, but all of the
sudden a feeling of great ease swept over me. I just really enjoyed
being near him. I wondered how close we’d get.

“So, what brings you
to the US of A?” I asked.

“I was doing some
property development in Britain, but it became very difficult to find
good places to flip that would be worthwhile, monetarily. There
wasn’t really such a large downturn over there.” He grabbed a
piece of cheese. “And I always liked the idea of coming to America,
seeing what I could do here.” Ryan popped the bite of cheese into
his mouth, and then grabbed the plate to offer me some. I picked a
few purple grapes off the vine and placed them into my mouth. I
looked up and noticed that Ryan was staring at my lips as I put the
grapes in one by one. His look was intense and incredibly sexy, and I
felt those nervous shivers of excitement begin to course through my
body once again.

“And you Amy? You
look like a native. Am I right?”

I nodded my head yes.
“Born and raised. I actually live in the house I grew up in on Del
Mar.” I saw a little look of worry enter his eyes. “By myself,”
I added to appease his anxiety.

“Where are your
parents?” he asked, clearly relieved.

“My dad died, and my
mom took off soon after. I have an adorable brother, although he’d
hate that I just called him that. He is over at UC San Diego, it’s
his first year. So it’s my first year too, in a way. I don’t have
to be all parental every minute of the day. It’s strange not to
have so many responsibilities.”

“I’m sorry about
your father, and mother for that matter. What happened?”

I told him the whole
story, about my father’s sudden death and then the depressing
unraveling of my mom. He nodded as he listened, a frown tugging at
his lips—I could tell he was really focusing on my story and seemed
to really understand. I hadn’t told anyone about this in ages and
it felt good. Even though I had only just met him, something stirred
inside me when I told him my story—like I could trust him, like he
deserved to know everything about me.

But what if my past was
too depressing for a first date? I didn’t want to come off as
Debbie Downer. It was just that he was so inquisitive and so sweet
with his questions, that I found myself saying much more than I was
used to. I don’t think I’d ever been so forthcoming about my
past. And there was something in his eyes that told me that he too
had a hard past. He didn’t bring it up, and I didn’t push it, but
he got what I was saying in a way that would only be possible for
someone who’d been there too.

“I’m sorry for
bringing the mood down.” I looked away, a bit embarrassed for
telling him so much.

“No, please. You
didn’t. I know exactly what you mean about being used to duties.
Well maybe not exactly—I don’t have a brother—but I feel that
way when I’m not working on a big project,” he said. “I don’t
like idle time. I’m not sure what I should be doing with myself.”
He laughed. “Of course nothing can compare to taking care of
another human being, but that absence of responsibility was what I
meant.” He looked uncomfortable, like he’d said something wrong.
I didn’t think he had. A pensive look crossed over his face, and
then disappeared. There was definitely something else he wanted to
say about himself, but then thought better of it. “So I mostly just
think of new projects to work on.” His eyes found mine.

“Am I the new
project?” I asked suggestively.

“Do you want to be?”

I bit my lower lip. I’d
never been so sassy, but damn it felt good. “What would it entail?”

He closed the space
between us, and put his finger to my mouth, gently tracing my lips.

“How about this?”
he asked, taking my face in his powerful hands and kissing me. I
melted into him, my lips tingling with excitement. He had that end of
day stubble on his cheeks, and the hair gently tickled my face.

He pulled away, his
eyes studying me. “Or this?” He lowered me onto the blanket,
leaning down to meet my lips again. All I could do was whisper, “Uh
huh,” as he ran his fingers again over my lips and down my neck to
where my shirt fell open.

With his other hand he
began gently stroking my thigh while looking into my face. His
fingers felt electric against me, even with the thick denim between
us. I wished I wasn’t wearing jeans so I could feel his skin on
mine.

“God, your
beautiful,” he murmured. I smiled up at him. This—the picnic on
the beach, the kissing in complete public—was so not like me. And I
loved it. What had I been doing all my life?

He laid down beside me
and I moved to turn towards him. “No, stay there,” he ordered as
he began to slowly graze my breasts with his hand. My nipples were
instantly hard, and as he teased them, he kissed the side of my neck.

If I didn’t stop this
soon, I was going to come right there on the beach. There weren’t
that many people out at this time of night, but still, I wasn’t
sure I wanted it to happen so publicly. But there was nothing I could
do: there was no way I could get myself to stop Ryan’s hands from
working their magic.

He squeezed my breast.
It was almost painful, it felt so good. I turned my face towards him.
His lips again met mine, but this time, he parted them with his
tongue, and slowly began to kiss and suck me as he played with the
rest of my body. I groaned against him. But he hadn’t yet touched
me between my legs. I wanted him so badly it hurt. My body kept
bucking for his hand to reach down and bring me to full satisfaction.

At last, he began to
press with his thumb against my spot. Even through the dense denim,
it felt amazing. He kept pressing, slowly and gently at first as I
moved beneath him. He unzipped my jeans, sliding his fingers into the
top of my panties. The anticipation of his fingers on my center was
almost too much to handle. I reached for him, wanting to give him
some pleasure, but he pushed my hand away.

“I want to see
you
come,” he said as he sat up and continue to titillate my center.
The way his eyes caressed my face, my body, kept me building. He
played with my clit, softly at first, and then harder. He then
surprised me as he slipped his finger into me while still massaging
my clit. Within seconds I could feel a warm sensation all over my
body. I don’t think I’ve ever been so wet.

As he increased the
pressure on my clit, he slid another finger inside of me. The
rhythmic motion of his fingers inside me, the mind-blowing
stimulation, I could feel the waves pulsing through me. As I came, I
was gasping for air. Ryan laid back down beside me, running his hand
through my hair, stroking my face.

I closed my eyes to
help me catch my breath. When I opened them, he was looking at me
with pure satisfaction and lust. He kissed me slowly again and then
went to pour us some more wine. I had accidentally knocked over the
glasses, spilling the pinot grigio all over the sand. Ryan grabbed
the bottle and poured a long sip down his throat.

“Classy,” I said
laughing. I pushed my bangs away from my face, which still burned
hot.

“Only the best for
you.” He passed me the bottle and I took a sip.

His phone rang. He
looked down at the ID. “Amy, forgive me, this is shite timing, but
I need to take this. Won’t be but a minute.” He sat up, and
immediately his tone changed as he addressed whoever was on the
phone, authoritatively giving them instructions.

As he continued to
pace, his voice stern and cold, I frowned slightly. “It’s almost
8 pm,” he muttered, more to himself than anything. “What do you
need that is so urgent you couldn’t have waited till the morning?”
I was glad I didn’t work with him and
really
glad I wasn’t
the person he was talking to on the other end of the phone. I’m
sure it took a lot of work to keep everyone in line, all the pieces
moving in sync, but did he need to sound so gruff?

“Yes, I’ll need all
the figures by tomorrow 7 am,
sharp
,” Ryan said into the
phone. “I’m meeting with some investors, and we need to quantify
our progress, which I shouldn’t have to explain to you.” His eyes
traveled to meet mine, and softened slightly as he surveyed me.
“Listen,” he said, “I need to get off. I’m otherwise engaged
at the moment.” He ended the call without saying goodbye.