She left and shut the door behind her, and he heard Lawson trying to get his attention.
“Rian, are you even listening to anything I’m saying?”
No.
“Of course I am, Lawson.” He leaned back in his seat even more and reached between his legs to adjust himself. His cock was like a fucking lead pipe between his thighs, pressing against the material of his slacks, and all but roaring out to be relieved. “I don’t want to make an announcement, because in the end it really doesn’t matter. She’ll get her fifteen seconds of attention, and then she’ll have to move on like the rest.”
Lawson exhaled loudly, and the sound of a chair squeaking came through the receiver. “Okay, but do me a favor, and the next time you want to spank your partners have them sign a damn contract, Rian. This shit gives me a headache.”
Rian disconnected the call and sat there for a moment thinking over what Lawson had said. Of course Lawson hadn’t been serious about a contract, but more busting Rian’s balls because this had happened before, but honestly it wasn’t a bad idea. He turned in his seat and stared out the window.
The only problem was he wanted a woman that could give as good as she got, that didn’t just submit her body to him because of who he was or how much he had in his bank account. He wanted a woman that would hit him back when she was pissed and aroused, not because she wanted to hurt him, but because she wanted him to give her more.
Fuck, he was starting to get even harder, and his damn cock was digging into his zipper. What he was thinking about would only end up in a shit storm like the other times he’d screwed his secretaries. It wasn’t like he was this evil bastard, not most of the time at least. He went for the women that wanted one thing from him: to wine and dine them before he fucked them unconscious. Of course there were the ones that thought they could have him giving them everything: marriage, a family, little babies. That wasn’t in Rian’s future and sure as hell wasn’t something he dreamt about. He got pleasure in seeing them limp out of his home because they could barely walk from what he had given them the night before.
But Sorcha was different from any woman he’d had. Fuck, she was different from any woman he had ever associated with. The women that ran in his circles were brought up to stay quiet unless spoken to, and to be submissive in all things. They were bred to please the man above all else, because that was who took care of them. Maybe it was screwed up to some, but to the people he knew, that was the only life they had ever lived, and that was the only kind of woman Rian allowed into his life.
He didn’t want a clinger of a woman, didn’t want to marry them just because he stuck his cock inside of their bodies. He wanted them for pleasure, and if they were willing, and agreed nothing more would come from that, then he brought them back to his place and showed them exactly what he liked.
But Sorcha … fucking Sorcha would give him exactly what he wanted, because when she fully surrendered to him he would be victorious. Yeah, he was a fucking douche-bag in a lot of ways, but that was how he had been all his life. With a tough as nails father, a mother that was more interested in the next party than in him, and isolation of being an only child, Rian had to rely on himself. Adapting to his surroundings was key, and so he became hard, unforgiving, and because of that attitude rose to the top.
He turned back around and stared at his closed office doors. Hell, he doubted Sorcha would even entertain what he wanted to do to her, let alone sign a contract for it. She’d slap his face, or curse him out. That had him grinning. She may have only been working for him for the last six months, but in that time just seeing her carefully controlled resistance, the anger she had simmering below the surface, and the way she narrowed her eyes at him, had his blood pumping fiercely. People bowed down to him, kissed his feet, and treaded lightly. She was a secretary, his secretary, and she infuriated him like no other.
He wanted to fuck her, and if she was willing to play that game, he was going to show her exactly what it meant to be with him. Rian Hartford didn’t give up on something he wanted, and what he wanted like a fiend was Sorcha Case.
3
The workday was winding down, and for what felt like the hundredth time Sorcha looked at the clock. She wrapped up her paperwork, closed out her programs, and shut down her computer. Fortunately, Mr. Hartford had stayed in his office for most of the day dealing with clients. The only time she really saw him aside from this morning was when he had gone on a lunch meeting with a few attorneys from the office below. The way he looked at her as he walked past her desk though, like a cocky bastard that had something up his sleeve, had made her unsettled in a purely aroused way all afternoon.
She breathed out, grabbed her purse, and headed out from behind her desk. It was already past five, but she always double-checked with Mr. Hartford before she left to make sure he was settled with everything. More times than not all he did was wave a hand to dismiss her without saying anything or looking at her, and she prayed it was the same tonight. Bringing her knuckles down on the wood, she called out softly, “Mr. Hartford?”
She pushed the door open, saw him sitting behind his desk with a stack of papers in front of him, and for a moment lost her train of thought. His attitude might suck, and he may have absolutely no compassion, or at least didn’t show any, but she couldn’t help but appreciate the way he looked.
He had his jacket off and slung over the back of his chair. The desk lamp was on and a swatch of light covered his serious face. The sun was starting to descend behind the skyscrapers, and this ominous atmosphere surrounded him. He glanced up from his work, leaned back in his chair slowly, and rested his finger on his mouth, as if he was concentrating. For a second all he did was stare at her, seeming to wait for her to speak, but Sorcha couldn’t find the words. Right now, as he stared at her with those cold blue eyes, he looked like the very devil himself.
“I’m…” She cleared her throat, hating that she could want him more than any other man she had ever been with. He had this air of self-assuredness that covered him like a second skin. Maybe it was because her life felt like it was so out of control that seeing this man so in control had her aroused beyond belief?
“Well, get on with it, Miss Case.”
Lord have mercy, even though he was a snappy bastard, his voice was so deep, so husky, that she was sure if she just closed her eyes and focused on it she could come right then and there. “I’m leaving for the evening, and like always,” she felt her resistance for her unwarranted arousal fade. “And like always, I wanted to make sure you were all set before I left.”
He lowered his hand from his face just as slowly, set it on the desk once more, and started drumming his fingers on the smooth, glossy top. He wore a ring on his pinky, maybe a family crest or alumni seal, but the clank-clank, clank-clank of it hitting the table was in time with her heartbeat. “Miss Case, have I ever needed anything from you before you left for the night?” He lifted a dark eyebrow, and she pursed her lips and clenched her hands into fists.
No, you asshole, but at least I have the decency and work ethic to ask.
“No, Mr. Hartford,” she said between her teeth.
He lifted the corner of his mouth in a sarcastic smirk, and she bit back a retort. She was so stressed with everyday living that she seemed even more annoyed with him than usual, and that was saying something.