Final Call (The Call #2) (12 page)

“Your point,
Naomi?”

“My point? Ah, yes.”
She walks around me, swaying her hips like the model she is. “The
outcome of our marriage wasn’t exactly what I was hoping for. And
signing the Stone contract in front of me? That was underhanded.”
She sighs. “That’s by the by… But like I said, the settlement was
less than I was hoping for. Before he took over Stone, he was worth
twenty-five million alone from his stake in the company, various
investments, and smart business decisions. By the end of next year,
he’ll push the company over the billion-dollar threshold. Seven and
a half million isn’t nearly enough, don’t you agree?”

I purse my lips. “Oh, I
agree. It’s far too much.”

She holds my stare for
a moment. “We signed an agreement that, in the case of a divorce, I
would be entitled to half of what he was worth on the day we
married. That was ten million.”

“So you already have
more than you should.”

She ignores me. “That
agreement was ridiculous, but the marriage was a clever move for us
both, so I agreed. Of course, when he increased his worth
exponentially throughout our marriage, five million was a meager
amount.”

“My underwear lasts
longer than your marriage did.”

She ignores me. “I was
pushing for fifteen, but I would have been happy with ten. He only
signed the amount he did to get it over with. I had no choice but
to sign it if I didn’t want it to go to court.” She sighs again and
taps her finger against her lips.

“My patience is close
to exhaustion, Naomi.”

“I want the final
two-point-five mil. I want what I helped him achieve.”

A sick feeling settles
in my stomach. “And if you don’t get it?”

“Aaron is very good at
keeping his private life away from the media. I have the contacts
to expose every dirty secret you have, Dayton, and take several
others down with you. Aaron and the business would be an
unfortunate fall, I admit, but sometimes you can’t avoid these
things.” She smiles, but there isn’t an ounce of friendliness in
it. Just malice and spite and greed. Everything Carly said to me
last night has been proven true by the woman standing before
me.

“Are you threatening
me?”

“Do you think I
am?”

I walk to her, once
again stopping in front of her. “Get out of my house.”

“I’d prefer Aaron
didn’t know about this, so I’ll give you a month.” She looks me up
and down. “I’m sure you can fuck enough guys in that time to raise
the money.”

I step closer to her
again. “Get the fuck out of my house. Now. Or I’ll throw you
out.”

After a long second of
her staring into my eyes, she turns on her heels and leaves,
slamming the door behind her. I stare at the empty doorway she just
passed through, my chest heaving with each ragged breath I
take.

Angry tears burn the
backs of my eyes. I don’t doubt her for a second. I know in my gut
she’d go to the press just to spite us—to spite me.

I collapse on the sofa
next to me. Do I even have anything close to that kind of money? I
have savings, sure, and I know there’s a lot of money in there, but
nothing close to what she’s asking for. And there’s no chance of me
going out and working for it.

Shit! Am I really
considering paying that bitch off?

Yeah. Yeah, I am.
Because of Aaron. Because if it means protecting him and the
business, the business he and his father grew together, then yes.
I’d pay her off.

I’d do just about
anything to protect him.

***

My first thought when
my financial planner informs me that there’s four hundred and forty
thousand dollars sitting in my investment account is why the hell I
haven’t paid off my mortgage yet.

My second is a
resounding
Fuck.

That’s also the first
word I mutter when I leave the building, discreetly tucking the
printed slip into my bra.

I can barely believe
I’m considering this—that I’m here, getting the information I need
to fulfill her fucked-up request. I don’t think I’ve yet truly
processed our conversation.

I mean, shit. The woman
walked into my house and blackmailed me. In my own fucking
house!

I lean against the wall
and press my fingers to my temple, rubbing harshly. My head is
throbbing from the events of today. Hell, it’s throbbing from the
events of the last few weeks.

I get into my car and
pull out of the parking lot. The journey passes in a blur with
seemingly no time passing at all when I arrive back at my house.
Words and threats and promises and hopes swirl in my mind, each of
them crashing into each other until the throb becomes a relentless
pound.

I park and scramble
into my house. My cell and keys hit the table with a clunk, and I
run upstairs to the bathroom. I twist the bath taps until they’re
on full power and peel my clothes away.

There’s barely any
water in the tub, but I climb in anyway. The hot and cold water
mingles at my feet. I watch as the level slowly rises, and I lean
forward, hugging my thighs to my chest.

I can feel the thump of
my heart against my legs, the hectic rise and fall of my chest. And
the fear. The very real fear, racing through my body and taking
hold of me.

The fear of losing
everything.

Of losing my control.
Of losing the relationship I have belief in. Of losing the man I
love.

But if I leave him,
Naomi loses her trump card.

If I leave him, he’s
safe. She can’t hurt him or the business.

If I leave him, I’ll
slowly but surely destroy us both.

I dig my fingernails
into the inside of my thighs. That isn’t an option. We have things
to work through and things to prove, but I can’t walk away from how
far we’ve come or how far we have to go.

I turn off the taps,
lie back, and sink beneath the water. It sloshes around me as I
move, and I lift my legs out of the tub and rest them on the edge.
I lean up for a breath before dropping my face back down again.

Beneath the water, it’s
silent, and it quiets the crazy in my mind. It calms the beating of
my heart until it settles to the steady rhythm I know so well, and
the tension seeps from my body in the hot water.

Two hands grab my arms
and lift me from the water. “Jesus, Dayton!”

Aaron pulls me into his
chest. I’m still sitting in the water and he’s still in his suit.
His hands shake against my bare back.

“What the fucking hell
were you doing?” he rasps into my wet hair, holding me tight.

“Relaxing,” I
whisper.

“You know most people
watch TV or have a glass of wine, right? They don’t ignore their
calls and submerge themselves in water.”

“I’m not most people.”
I wriggle from his hold and climb from the tub.

He hands me two towels.
I wrap my hair in one and the other around my body before walking
into my bedroom.

“I know that. Shit,
Day.” He grabs me again. “I’ve been calling you for an hour. I’ve
been so worried about you.”

“Wait. How did you get
in? You didn’t bash the door down like you did on the boat, did
you?”

Aaron pulls back, a
smile on his face despite the worry in his eyes. “No, I didn’t
break your door down, sweetheart. You didn’t lock it.”

I bite my lip.
“Oops.”

He raises his eyebrows
but doesn’t comment on it. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?”

A thought crosses my
mind. “How did you get my new number?”

“Irrelevant.” He
dismisses it with a wave of his hand.

I grab some underwear
and walk back into my room to find him leaning against my
headboard, his jacket discarded and his shoes kicked off on my
floor.

“Mmph. Okay.” I clasp
my bra and slide my thong up my legs. “I was in the bath and didn’t
hear it ringing upstairs.”

“For a whole hour?”

“Time ran away from me.
I had a bad day.” I rub my hair with the towel and grab the dryer
from the top of the dresser. The bed creaks behind me, and a second
later, Aaron’s hand closes around mine.

“What happened?”

“Just stuff.” I shrug
and turn on the hairdryer. Aaron flicks the switch on the wall,
cutting the hot air.

“Dayton.”

I meet his eyes in the
mirror. “I had a bad day. It sucked. End of discussion.”

Something in my tone
must tell him that pushing me won’t work this time, because he
backs off with a sigh. I lean over, turn the power back on, and
perch on the end of the bed.

I can feel his eyes on
my back as I blast my hair dry. The irony of this situation doesn’t
escape me. I’m holding out on him and berating him for keeping
something from me, yet here I am doing the exact same thing.

And the same woman is
at the center of both.

I should turn around
and tell him. I should tell him about her showing up and
blackmailing me—but that will do nothing except give her what she
wants. I know that, when it comes down to it, Aaron will do
whatever it takes.

He already said that
there isn’t a price he wouldn’t pay for me.

Two and a half million
is a steep price, but he’d pay it without blinking.

I don’t want him to do
that. I don’t want her to have that control over him any longer.
She held that for long enough, dictating and holding back on
something that should have been sorted. She controlled far too much
of his life for far too long.

Now, the only person
who gets to have any semblance of control over him is me.

I place the hairdryer
back on top of the dresser and run my brush through my hair. He’s
still sitting on the bed, and now his tie is sitting on my
nightstand. The top button of his shirt is open, but my focus is on
the material stretching across his shoulders and the way it clings
to his body. It’s on the smatter of dark hair peeking over the top
of his shirt and the faint outline of his abs. It’s on the pleasure
and release I know he can provide. The release I know he will
selflessly provide me.

The few seconds of pure
nothing.

He rests his cell
facedown next to his tie and peers at me through heavy eyelids when
I crawl up the bed. His eyes darken, roaring with heat, when I
straddle him and grab his collar.

“Dayton.” My name is a
low growl, a warning, a threat, a promise.

I roughly press my lips
to his, and his hands slide up my thighs and curve round my ass. My
tongue flicks against his lips, demanding they part for me, and I
slide my hands in his hair. I tug a little, pressing my core
against him, and he groans.

Our tongues meet in a
heated desperation driven solely by me. If I’ve ever needed him,
truly craved his touch, it’s right now. I need the sweet release
and spiral of bliss I know Aaron can provide for me.

His fingers dig into my
backside, holding my hips to his. His erection presses against me
and I rub against him, each gyrate of my hips hardening his ready
cock further. I make quick work of the buttons of his shirt and
shove it over his shoulders. His skin is smooth and hot beneath my
fingertips as I run them down his body to his belt. My knuckles
brush my throbbing clit as I unbuckle it.

I shove his boxers down
with his trousers, leaving them around his knees, and reach between
us. I wrap my fingers around the silky pink skin of his shaft and
stroke him almost roughly. Aaron groans again and grabs my hand,
moving it so the head of his cock rubs against my clit.

My juices coat him in
seconds, and when the first clench takes over my body, I ease
myself onto him instead.

“Fuuuuck,” he groans
into my shoulder.

I wind my fingers back
in his hair and move against him. My lips part and my breathing
speeds at each movement. This isn’t like before—even when it’s been
rougher. There was always endless passion and seduction.

This is pure, raw need.
This is hard and fast, and when he grabs my hips, stilling me, and
pounds into me frantically, it’s almost brutal. There’s nothing
romantic or flowery about the way our skin slaps together, and my
cries are swallowed by his rough kisses and nibbles at my lips.

There’s nothing
beautiful about this, except everything that shouldn’t be.

I explode with a loud
moan and my teeth sinking into his shoulder. He roars his own
release, slamming into me one last time. He drops his hips to the
bed, lowering mine with his, still buried deep inside me.

I press my face into
his neck and tightly wrap my arms around him. His own hands stroke
across my back, fingers splayed, one at the small of my back and
the other resting between my shoulder blades.

Aaron kisses along my
shoulder, each kiss softer than the last. Each kiss holding the
feelings neither of us displayed just a moment ago.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“I didn’t plan to do that.”

“Shh,” he says into my
hair. “You needed to let go. I was here. I don’t begrudge you
that.”

I squeeze my eyes shut.
Goddamn him for being so wonderful and understanding and
him
.

“My day was awful, and
I just… I don’t know.”

“You needed control
back.”

I nod and sit up. I
brush my thumb over his cheek and along his jaw, my eyes following
the path of it. Guilt eats at me inside, but I batter it down. I
kiss him once and get off him, heading into the bathroom to clean
up. Aaron follows me in.

“Have you eaten
tonight?”

I shake my head and
throw my panties in the laundry basket. “No. I’m starving.”

“I brought takeout, but
it’s probably cold by now.” He shoots a wickedly sexy smirk my way,
and my cheeks flush a little. “Blushing?”

I duck into my lingerie
room and slip on another pair of panties before deciding to answer
that. “You, Mr. Stone, are the only man in existence who can make
me blush.”