The tight hold she’d always had over her life, that kept everything heading in the right direction, no longer felt so tight.

CHAPTER TEN

MARCUS HIT THE SHOWER, its spray veering on cold.

She’d gone again. Left before morning. But no note—no handwritten thank-you. This time he’d got an email, asking that he review the attachments enclosed before they got together later that day.

Her message was clear: all work from here on in.

Hell, it was your message too, remember.

So where was the sense of relief? The clear head that was supposed to accompany the morning after?

The moment he’d realised she was gone a punching great weight had settled in his stomach. It had to be disappointment. The realisation that he’d had his last of her, that there would be no morning goodbye. If he’d known he would have kept her awake for longer, savoured that last session all the more—the way her face had flushed, her body had glistened, her breasts had bobbed as she rode above him...

Heat seared him through, his cock stiffening with maddening intent.

He raised his head to the cold jets, fingers thrusting through his hair. He did not—he would not—get himself off. He hadn’t needed to in years, and he wasn’t about to start now. Christ, he’d come enough times already, so what was his fucking problem?

Looking for distraction, he forced his mind to the email she’d left him with and the attachments that detailed her vision for the company’s future, as it had been before he’d come along.

It included a presentation she’d delivered to the workforce the previous day. Notably, Tony Andrews had appeared alongside her own name in the slides, suggesting it was supposed to have been a joint delivery. He’d obviously left her in the lurch with that too.

His fingers ground into his scalp. Why did he care so much? And what did it matter now? Andrews had gone, and things would be very different from here on in.

She had him.

Snatching the soap, he lathered himself up and ignored the peculiar way those words played with his mind. He had far more important things to think on—like the morning ahead.

He’d called a meeting for ten-thirty, bringing together the UK-based heads of product development from both companies. He hoped Jennifer would join them, but either way it was going ahead. They had no time to waste.

His Stateside head of marketing had emailed the previous evening, calling multiple times thereafter because he wanted to deliver some critical news.

Had he noticed? Had he fuck!

He’d been far too busy wrapped up in what he’d felt to be far more pressing at the time—her.

This never happened. He answered his phone, checked his email, did whatever work demanded. He was on call twenty-four-seven, as befitted his multi-national corporation and its time zone stretch.

Always available. Always at hand.

Until now.

Until... Jennifer.

He slammed the shower off and stepped out, grabbing his towel and drying himself off. It was time to move on.

Now they had a potential product launch in jeopardy because a competitor was about to pip them to the post. And, yes, he might be confident that their product would be better, but being the market leader didn’t ring true when you were second out of the sodding gate.

He should have been holding a conference call while he and Jennifer had been getting-to-know-one-other. His lapse in focus meant he now had to wait for sun-up in the US to discuss the issue with his marketing expert.

Needless to say, he wasn’t going to hang around.

He had a plan brewing.

He’d picked through Jennifer’s business strategy, studied the organisational structure, current projects and existing priorities. There was an opportunity to save the situation if they moved quickly enough.

But still the feeling of chasing his tail persisted, and it bugged the hell out of him.

Tags: Rachael Stewart Erotic
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