“Perhaps you are, but I sense a deep-rooted issue with you and men. You boldly told me off at the ballet because you saw me with my sister and you thought she was either my wife or my girlfriend. You thought I cheated and it struck a nerve with you or else you wouldn’t have bothered. Then you bravely told me that you hated men who cheat. So, I’m going with someone broke your heart and you haven’t been able to trust ever since. Am I right?”
Damn him.
“As a matter of fact, you are right. Two men in my lifetime have broken my heart: my college boyfriend and my father.”
“I’m sorry about that,” he spoke.
“One cheated on me and the other consistently cheats on my mother. I’m sure now you can understand why I reacted the way I did when I saw you with your sister.”
“I think I can understand.”
“How about you? How many broken hearts have you had in your life?”
He reached for his glass and brought it up to his lips, taking a sip before answering my question.
“Zero.”
I let out a light laugh. “You’re telling me no one has ever broken your heart?”
“Yes. Unless you count Kimmy Trello when I was eight years old.”
“And what did eight-year-old Kimmy Trello do that broke your heart? Break one of your toys?” I smirked.
“Kimmy Trello wasn’t eight; she was sixteen and she was my babysitter.”
“Now that’s creepy.”
“She had a boyfriend, and every time she babysat me, he was with her. Broke my heart in two seeing them together.” The corners of his mouth slightly curved into a cunning smile.
“So, you’re telling me she’s the reason why you need a garden full of flowers instead of a single one?”
“No, not at all. It’s just what I prefer. Being in a relationship is a huge gamble and trying to find a woman who’s worth the risk is exhausting. I’m a very busy man and I don’t like to waste time. Especially time I don’t have. Who wants or has time for break ups, countless trying, or divorce? The last thing I want to do is to hurt someone because I can’t or won’t commit to them. I like to keep my options open. I don’t want to have any worries or cares when I’m out or on a business trip and meet someone else. I’m very upfront with the women I date. They know the risk in going out with me. I don’t make it a secret.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
I sat there, listened to every word he spoke, and took it all in.
“And what risk is that?” I asked.
“If they fall in love with me or become emotionally attached, it’s on them and unrequited.”
I had to give the man props for being brutally honest. Honesty was rare these days when it came to men. He had given me some information for the article without realizing it. But how I was going to write it without making him sound like too much of a narcissistic douchebag was going to be tricky. I needed more.
“With Craig Pines, I did a day in the life. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to do that with you.”
“Exactly what does that consist of?”
“I’d follow you around for a couple of days. Get a glimpse of your work life and what you like to do in your free time.”
“I don’t know about that. You’re fully aware I don’t do interviews.”
“Oh come on, Wyatt. You’re thirty-two years old and a billionaire. Give people a glimpse into your life. You may inspire someone. Even if you inspired only one person, it’s so worth it.”
“Forbes Magazine did a brief business article on me a couple of years ago. People already know about me.”
“Forbes.” I waved my hand in front of my face. “That’s so boring and mostly read by men. My article is geared towards women. Women want to know about you. You’re in their fantasies. Give them a little more to fantasize about.”
“And what do I get out of this deal?” he asked.
“Knowing that you made a woman’s day?”
“I know that every day. I don’t need to have an article written about my personal life to give me that. For example, I know I made your day when we arrived in New York.” A smirk crossed his lips.
“Mental note. This guy is full of himself,” I spoke with a narrowed eye.
“Oh come on, Laurel. Just admit it. The orgasms, the way your skin trembles under my touch, and the sexual moans that escaped your lips with every thrust of my cock.”
I tightened my legs under the table. He was doing this on purpose. I started to sweat as I tried to ignore the pulsating vibrations down below. Picking up my glass of water, I gulped it, trying to cool myself down.
“We’re not talking about that. We’re talking about you doing an interview for my magazine.”
“I know you’re thinking about it.” A sexy smirk crossed his face.
“The only thing I’m thinking about is getting this interview and getting back on a plane to Seattle.” I finished the last of my champagne.
“Let me sleep on it. I’ll let you know in the morning.” He winked.
“Is there anything else I can get for the two of you?” Jean asked.
“We’re all set, Jean. We’ll be having dessert somewhere else,” he expressed as the corners of his mouth slightly curved upwards.
He slipped his credit card into the billfold, and when Jean came back, Wyatt left a generous tip and signed on the dotted line. We both got up from our seats, and as we were walking through the restaurant towards the doors, I felt his hand on the small of my back. I took in a deep breath. He was right, I trembled every time he touched me. The limo pulled up to the curb of the hotel. As soon as Wyatt climbed out, he held out his hand to me. Placing mine in his, I once again trembled as a shot of electricity soared through my body.
“Thank you for dinner,” I spoke as I stared into his eyes.
He brought the back of his hand to my cheek and lightly stroked it.
“You’re welcome. I hope you enjoyed it.”
“I did. It was delicious.” My skin shrouded itself in goosebumps.
He leaned in and softly brushed his lips against mine. One light brush became two and two became three. Before I knew it, we were locked in a passionate kiss, our tongues tangling in the night.
“Go get a room, you two,” a passerby snarled.
I broke our kiss and let out a light laugh.
“You do have a room here,” Wyatt spoke.
“I do, don’t I? Would you like to come up for a drink?”
“I was hoping you’d ask.” He grinned.
He held out his arm and I hooked mine around it as we walked inside and headed to the elevators. Once we arrived at my room, I pulled my key card from my purse and slid into the lock. We barely made it inside before he had me in his grip, shut the door, and pinned me up against it, his mouth on mine. His hand slid up my dress and his fingers deftly caressed my wet opening.
“My God. You aren’t wearing any underwear,” he spoke breathlessly.
“Nope. Decided to go commando tonight.”
“Fuck. That’s so hot.” His mouth smashed against mine while his finger dipped inside me.
I gasped, and his lips went to my neck, his tongue sliding along my earlobe sending such strong vibrations down below I was almost positive an orgasm was about to erupt. I moaned as his finger explored me. God, how I’d thought about this ever since that day at the airport. I reached for his belt and he pulled my hand away and pinned my arm above my head.
“We have plenty of time for that after you come for me.”
He firmly placed his thumb on my clit and moved it around in circles while his finger was still inside me, hitting the spot that would send any woman over the edge of eternity. My skin was heated, and my heart was pounding out of my chest. My body was on the brink of exploding and I was pretty sure that I’d die when it did. But I didn’t care. At least I’d die a happy woman.
“Oh God. Oh God,” I panted.
“Let it go, sweetheart. Give me what I want.”
One. Two. Three.
My legs stiffened and my body spasmed as a howl erupted from me.
“Perfect.” He smiled as he brushed his lips against mine. “You have no idea how much it turns me on to watch you have an orgasm.”
“Keep giving them and I’ll keep turning you on,” I spoke breathlessly.
He reached behind me and unzipped the zipper to my dress, letting it fall to the ground as he let go of my arm. He took my naked breasts in his grip and fondled them with pleasure, softly stroking my hardened nipples as he stared into my eyes.
“Stay right where you’re at and don’t move. I want to fuck you up against the door. But first, I want to give you what you’ve been thinking about all day.”
He took a few steps back and unbuttoned his shirt, sliding it off his broad shoulders and tossing it to the ground. His hands went for his belt. I stood there, watching every moment as if it was in slow motion. He removed a condom from his wallet, took down his pants and boxers, and kicked them to the side. His hand wrapped around his hard cock and he slowly started to stroke himself, his eyes never leaving mine. I gulped. I had never been so turned on in my life.
“Is this what you wanted to see?” he asked in a low voice.
I couldn’t speak, so I nodded.
“Does it turn you on to watch me masturbate in front of you?”
He slowly started to walk towards me while his hand moved up and down his shaft. I was going to orgasm again just watching him. He stood in front of me, took my hand, wrapped it around his and began stroking himself once again.
“What do you want me to do with this?” he asked in a low and sexy voice.
“Fuck me, Wyatt.”
“It would give me great pleasure, but first, get down on your knees and take me in your mouth for a few minutes. But don’t make me come.”
I got down on my knees, my shoes still on, and wrapped my lips around him, taking him in inch by inch. Sexual groans escaped him as he stroked my hair.
“Okay. That’s enough. I won’t come this way. Stand up,” he commanded.
I stood with my back against the door, one foot up, the heel of my stiletto pressing against it. He tore the condom package open with his mouth and rolled it over his cock. Grabbing my waist with one hand, he pulled my leg around him and thrust inside me. I gasped for air, and after a couple of more thrusts, he pulled out, turned me around, and took me from behind, placing both of his hands firmly on mine, which were pressed against the door. It only took a few pumps to throw me into another orgasm.
“Oh my God,” he whispered in my ear as he came to a halt and strained inside me.
I stood there, his heated body pushed against mine as his fingers interlaced with mine. His hot exhausted breath swept across me as we both tried to regain normal breathing.
“That was so fucking good,” he spoke before pressing his lips against my shoulder.
“It sure was.”
He pulled out of me and I turned around. After removing the condom and throwing it in the trash can, he grabbed his clothes from the floor and took them over to the bed. Reaching into the closet that was right next to me, I pulled a white robe from the hanger and slipped it on.
“Are you leaving?” I asked.
“Yes.” He pulled on his pants.
Disappointment shrouded me, but I couldn’t let him know.
“Okay. So—”
He buttoned up his shirt, and as he was tucking it into his pants, he stared at me.
“I want to read the article on Craig Pines.”
“Why?” I asked in confusion.
“Just to get a feel for your writing. If I like the article, I’ll grant you a day in the life. Deal?”
“Uh. Sure. I can send it to you.”
“I’ll text you my email address when I get in the car.” He walked over to me and pressed his warm lips against my forehead. “Tonight was great. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.”
“I did. Thank you.” My lips formed a small smile.
He walked out the door, the loud bang when it closed, jolted me. I went into the bathroom, placed my hands firmly on the sink, and looked into the mirror. Shaking my head, I pointed to myself. “Don’t. Don’t you dare, Laurel.”
I could hear the email tone come through on my phone, so I walked over to my purse and retrieved it, staring at the email address Wyatt Coleman sent me. Grabbing my laptop, I sat on the bed, pulled up the article on Craig Pines, and sent it to him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I was looking over the questions for Everything Laurel when a text message from Wyatt came through.
“I liked the article, even though I suspect you left some things out of it. Just a hunch. Ryan will be by the hotel to pick you up at seven a.m. You got your day in the life, Miss Holloway.”
“Yes!” I shouted in excitement.
“I’ll be ready. Thank you, Wyatt.”
“You can thank me tomorrow night. I have a fundraiser to attend and you’ll be attending with me.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Good night, Laurel.”
“Good night, Wyatt.”
I glanced at the time and it was already midnight, nine o’clock in Seattle. I needed to text Eric to let him know that I would be staying in New York a couple more days.
“It’s me! I’m doing a day in the life of Wyatt Coleman starting tomorrow morning. So, I’m going to need a couple of more days here.”
“Good job. But you better check out of that hotel, then. I’m not paying for another night there. Your couple of days turns into a week.”
“I’m not checking out and I’ll pay for the remaining days I’m here myself.”
“Be my guest. Keep me posted.”
I stuck my tongue out at my phone and then set it on the nightstand. Pulling the covers over me, I laid there and stared up at the ceiling as the events of tonight haunted me. When I closed my eyes, I only saw him. His smile, his laughter, his naked body.
The next morning, I was up early and down to the lobby at precisely six fifty-five. A black limo pulled up to the curb and Ryan got out and opened the door for me.
“Good morning, Miss Holloway.” He nodded.
“Good morning, Ryan, and please, just Laurel.”
He gave me a pleasant smile, and as I slid into the backseat, the smell of clean earthy and musky scents smacked me in the face.
“Good morning.” Wyatt grinned.
“Good morning. I didn’t think you’d be in the car.”
“Why not? You want a day in the life, so it starts on our way to the office.”
“What exactly does Coleman Enterprises do?” I curiously asked.
“It’s obvious you didn’t do your research prior to trying to secure an interview.”
“What can I say? I like to be surprised.”
“I buy failing companies, get them back on track, and then sell them to the highest bidder.”
“May I ask how you got started?”
“My grandfather started Coleman Enterprises thirty years ago. When he passed away, my sister and I took over.”
“What about your father?”
“I never knew the dirt bag. He left my mom when I was two, shortly after my sister was born.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” The corners of his mouth curved into a sexy smile. “We were better off without him. My grandfather was a father to me and Sammi.”
As soon as we climbed out of the limo, we took the elevator up to Coleman Enterprises and I followed Wyatt down the hall to his office.
“Good morning, Tamara,” he spoke.
“Yes. Good morning, Tamara.” I grinned.
“Good morning, Mr. Coleman. Miss Holloway.”
“Laurel will be following me around today. I’ve agreed to let her to do a day in the life for her magazine article. Let’s accommodate her the best we can.”
“Not a problem, sir.”
I followed Wyatt into his office and took a seat in the chair across from his desk.
&
nbsp; “I have a couple of meetings scheduled, but I’m afraid you’re not allowed in them. So, you can go shop for a new dress for the fundraiser tonight. I’ll have Tamara give you the company card since you’ll be attending with me.”
“I have a dress,” I spoke.
“If you’re talking about the dress you wore to the ballet, and as beautiful as you looked in it, it’s not formal enough.”
“Oh. Then I guess I will have to go shopping.”
“Hey, Wyatt.” His office door opened. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were in a meeting.”
“Sammi, come in. I want you to meet Miss Laurel Holloway. She’s going to interview me for a magazine article.”
“How the hell did you manage that?” She smiled as she walked over and extended her hand.
“Laurel, this is my sister, Sammi Coleman.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Coleman.” I lightly shook her hand.
“Please, call me Sammi. I hate formalities. Wyatt, everything is set for the fundraiser tonight and there will be approximately five hundred guests attending.”
“Excellent. Thanks, sis.”
“You’re welcome. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a bagel sitting in my office that is calling my name. It was nice to meet you, Laurel.”
“You too.”
I sat there with a narrowed eye, staring at Wyatt as he turned on his computer.
“What’s that look for?” he asked with an arch in his brow.
“The fundraiser I’m attending with you, you’re the one putting it on?”
“I am. Why?”
“Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place? All you said was that you were attending a fundraiser and I was going with you.”
“And?” He cocked his head.
“The appropriate thing to have said was, ‘I’m putting on a fundraiser tonight and I would like you to attend with me.’”
“I’m still attending it. What does it matter if I’m putting it on?”
Irritation filled me as I put my hand up.
“Forget it. What is this fundraiser for?”
The corners of his mouth curved upwards into a cunning smile.
“I’m messing with you and I apologize. I should have told you from the start that I was the one hosting it. Anyway, it’s for MS.”