She grabbed at the material and tugged. Jack raised his hips and his pants came off. She threw them aside and they struck a table top, where they slipped into a framed photograph of herself taken years ago in London.
It fell to the floor. There was the sound of glass splintering.
Celina paid little attention to it-all she saw was Jack. His face was flushed. She knew he was excited and that fueled her to push the limits further. Lowering her head to the waistband of his shorts, she bit the fabric and pulled them off with her teeth. With a flick of her wrist, they sailed across the room, a shadow striking one of the windows.
His penis was unusually large. Celina stared at it, transfixed. Extending from a thatch of dark-brown hair, it lay an inch above his belly button and throbbed in time with each of his uneven breaths. She reached down to touch it. Jack’s breathing became hoarse, his body taut with anticipation. Watching her admire it seemed to inflame him.
But Celina didn’t touch it. Instead, she met his gaze with her own and licked the area of skin directly surrounding it. Jack grabbed a handful of her hair. Celina sank on top of him and her nipples brushed the base of his penis. She liked it a little rough. She sensed he did, too.
Suddenly, she stood and went to the table that was across the room. Incredulous, Jack watched her go. “What are you doing?” he said. “Come back here.”
“Wait,” Celina whispered. “Just…wait.”
When she struck the match, her face burst into brilliant, glowing bloom. She lit the candle that was in her hand, blew out the match and started toward him. With the city twinkling in the windows behind her and the candle burning in her hand, she was radiant.
She straddled him again and tossed her hair away from her face with a quick flick of her head. Her eyes seemed to challenge his when she looked down at him. “Do you trust me, Jack?”
Jack looked at her, then at the candle flickering in her hand. He knew what she had in mind and it thrilled him. “I trust you,” he said.
She held the candle over his chest, tipped it slightly and allowed the flame to melt the wax. “I’ve never done this before,” she said. “But I’ve always wanted to. Do you think it will hurt?” Before he could respond, she turned the candle onto its side and watched the shimmering droplets of wax rain down onto his chest.
Jack caught his breath and winced, the hot wax rolling towards his stomach in thin rivers. It pooled in his belly button and spilled onto the beige carpet. It wasn’t painful, but it was exhilarating.
And then Celina blew out the candle.
Rising up the length of his body, grinding her body hard against his, she found his mouth with her own and they kissed. Jack reached down and grasped himself. Celina raised her hips and parted her legs.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Probably not.” She touched his face. “Just go easy. What you’ve got down there should be studied.”
Just as he was about to enter her, they searched one another’s eyes. They were having the same thought, that if they went through with this, nothing would be the same between them again. While there was an attraction in the past, their lives had been professional up to this point. They would still have to work with one another at Redman International, still have to confer at board meetings, still have to act as though there was nothing between them, although there was more than just something there. They were in love.
And so Celina lifted her hips higher, allowing him to gently push inside of her. He’s too big, she thought. But everything that happened after that initial pain became a blur to her. She wanted this. She wanted Jack. She wanted him in her life.
As they rocked together on the carpet, his thrusts became deeper, faster, more demanding. Spasms coursed through her. Her fingernails dug into his back. Her hand clutched a handful of his hair and she pulled. He pushed her hands away and pinned her arms at her sides. He covered one of her nipples with his mouth and bit gently. She arched her back. Her nipple was so full, it felt as if it might burst.
She looked up at his face and realized that he was as close as she was. Wanting him deeper inside of her, she countered each of his thrusts with her own until there was nothing but their release.
Later, after they showered together, they made love again. As Celina drifted off to sleep, her body secure in Jack’s arms, she realized how much she missed having a man in her bed at night. She moved closer to him and kissed his chest. His heart was still racing, but the sound of it soothed her to sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“You look a little piqued, Harold. Seem a little tense. Want a drink before we begin?”
Harold Baines turned from the window he was standing at and looked across the office at Louis Ryan, who was pouring vodka into a glass of crackling ice. “It’s a full bar,” he said. “I can’t imagine there isn’t something here that wouldn’t appeal to you.”
He put the bottle of vodka down and took a sip of the cold Absolut. “Or maybe beer’s more your style,” he said. “Isn’t that what they serve at those sex clubs you go to? Isn’t beer the choice of drink while someone’s pissing on you or shoving their fist up your ass? If it is, and if that’s what you prefer, then I’m afraid I can offer you none here.”
“Go to hell, Ryan.”
“I’m already there, Harold,” Louis said, and pointed to the chair opposite his desk. “Sit down. What I have to say won’t take long.”
Harold sat. Through the windows before him, he could see The Redman International Building towering amid the Manhattan skyline. He thought of the meeting he had just had with George Redman, of the friendship he had betrayed, and looked away, his guilt and self-hate overwhelming.
He listened as Ryan stepped behind him.
“I want you to tell me everything you know about the takeover of WestTex Incorporated.”
Harold turned in his chair, perhaps too quickly because he became dizzy. It was a moment before he could focus on Louis-and when he did, when the room finally righted itself, he saw that the man was standing beside a large television.
“I want you to start from the beginning,” Louis said. “I want dates, facts, figures. I want to know the terms of the deal, and I want to know everyone’s part in it-that includes yourself, George, Celina, Jack Douglas, the entire board. But most of all, I want you to tell me why Redman is doing it. I want to know why he’s taking over a company whose profits have plummeted since the Middle East went to hell. I want to know why he’s willing to pay twice what WestTex is worth when he knows goddamned well their profits are down-way down-and can’t possibly support the $10 billion he’s willing to pay for it. It must be something good for him to risk everything he’s ever worked for, and I want to know what it is-now-because time is running out.”
The two men stared at each other. Louis tipped back his drink and sipped, a confident man moving in for the kill.
And then Harold stood. He couldn’t do this to George. He couldn’t allow this to go any further than it already had. He walked to the doors that were across the room.
Tried to walk.
His limbs became oddly weak, the muscles in his legs unable to hold him. Another wave of dizziness overcame him, he listed slightly to the right and reached out a hand to steady himself on a Chippendale table.
Tried to reach.
The world blurred and he collapsed to the floor.
“What’s the matter with you?”
Harold closed his eyes, the pressure inside his head building. He tried to shake off a wave of nausea, failed and put a hand over his mouth. He began vomiting through his fingers, vomiting onto his clothes, vomiting onto Louis’ priceless Aubusson rug.
Ryan took a hesitant step forward, not sure what to do. Harold studied his vomit-stained hand as though it were an object that had materialized from another place, another time. The smell reached his nose, his stomach clenched and he doubled over again, making a gagging sound.
And Louis knew.
