Done Deal Read online




  Done Deal

  By Lynda Aicher

  Power. Wealth. Respect.

  The members of the Boardroom share these things—and more—in this new erotic romance series from Lynda Aicher, author of the bestselling Wicked Play books

  In the Boardroom, exhilarating pleasures happen after-hours.

  At night, behind the closed doors of the Boardroom, it’s members only. Stripped of their inhibitions, Bay Area moguls are free to indulge their most extreme fantasies, and business becomes pleasure.

  Never in his dirtiest dreams did CEO Trevor James expect to see Danielle Stables on the guest list.

  There’d always been something unspoken between them—a spark yet to ignite. An inscrutable and defiant player in the firm, Danielle exudes power and secrets. Tonight she is going to surrender. No strings. No judgments. No boundaries.

  By dawn, the games between them will have only just begun.

  And don’t miss After Hours, the first full-length novel in Lynda Aicher’s new Boardroom series, coming January 2018 from Carina Press

  This book is approximately 10,000 words

  Carina Press acknowledges the editorial services of Rhonda Edits, LLC

  “The Wicked Play series always offers a quality story centered on hot sex, burgeoning romance, and BDSM.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  Editor’s Note

  At the end of this novella, we’re excited to share with you an excerpt for Lynda Aicher’s AFTER HOURS, the first full-length book in the Boardroom series. However, please be aware that the excerpt means that the story of DONE DEAL will end at approximately 70% on your digital reader or app.

  We hope you enjoy getting to know the men and women of the Boardroom!

  Happy reading,

  The Carina Press team

  Dedication

  To all the readers who make each story worth the journey it takes to create it. Thank you!

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Excerpt from After Hours by Lynda Aicher

  Also by Lynda Aicher

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  “Sure. Right.” Trevor James shut down his computer, only half listening to the phone conversation. “Of course.” He placed the documents on his desk into his drawer and locked it. “Okay.”

  He scanned his desktop, returned a pen to the holder at the corner of his desk. The pristine surface left nothing for him to fiddle with. A glance at the time had him groaning silently.

  “Do we have to discuss this now?” he interjected, prepared for the coming reprimand. “It’s one in the morning for you.” And ten o’clock for him. He had far more important things to do in that moment than listen to his father.

  “The markets are open in the Far East,” Howard Faulkner countered, like that explained his urgent need to discuss company business.

  Trevor pinched the bridge of his nose and called on the patience he’d spent forty-one years cultivating when dealing with his father. “I have to go,” he said, voice flat. “We can discuss the rest tomorrow. After I’m in the office.”

  The distance didn’t dilute the disapproval shoved through the harsh grunt. “You’ll never run this company if you’re only available from nine to five.”

  Great. Fucking excellent news.

  As the president of the San Francisco office of Faulkner Investment Group, Trevor had built the office into the most profitable one within the company. It even outpaced the headquarters in New York City, which was his father’s domain. But apparently that wasn’t good enough.

  No, none of that mattered, not when it was his good fortune to be Howard Faulkner’s one and only child.

  Maybe he should’ve lobbied to take over the Hong Kong office. Would that have been far enough from his father’s reach? Probably not. The moon would still be too close.

  Trevor spun his chair around to stare blindly at the glowing lights of the Bay Bridge in the distance. “Then I guess you’d better hand off the company to one of the Yes Men who kiss your ass all day long.”

  The abrupt harrumph was expected, and he smiled at the sheer predictability. The entire conversation was redundant and pointless. His father was going to die in his big office chair in Manhattan, and everything would be handed over to Trevor whether he wanted it or not.

  This is your heritage. You will work here. You should be proud of your name.

  He was so damn proud of the last statement that he’d legally changed it to his mother’s maiden name when he’d turned eighteen. At least he’d had a few years of relative anonymity before he’d knotted his tie and stepped into the company fold.

  “You wish,” his father snarled with yet another predictable volley.

  Trevor waited a beat, sarcastic disgust twisting in his stomach as he turned his phone around to see that the call had been disconnected. Of course it had. The ending rally by his father rarely varied. And his own “I truly do” was only heard by him.

  Fucking A. He heaved a sigh before shoving the annoyance aside. This was not new, and it wasn’t going to change until the old man died. Retirement wasn’t in the vocabulary of a man who didn’t know what vacation meant. Or sleep.

  He rechecked the time and mentally shuffled his priorities for his next appointment. He’d discarded his suit jacket three hours back when his executive assistant had finally departed for the night. He removed his tie now, draped it over his desk and set his watch next to it before he unbuttoned his collar and rolled up his sleeves. His belt came off last. He slid it free and curled it into a loose loop before setting it beside the other items.

  He’d prepared the boardroom earlier after he’d walked through both floors of the office to ensure he was alone. The unnatural hush of the space was both settling and disturbing. Over one hundred people worked there, and most of them would be shocked if they found out about tonight’s meeting.

  The hallway was dark except for the soft shine of the recess lighting in the lobby below. A quick glance over the rail confirmed that no one had arrived yet. Good. He hated being late.

  The surrounding buildings and the glow of the moon provided a pale light in the boardroom when he entered it. He pushed back most of the chairs so they lined the interior wall and the row of floor-to-ceiling windows that made up the exterior wall. The condoms were spread across the coffee credenza next to a packet of wipes. He placed more at one end of the table along with a few lengths of material, two sets of leather wrist cuffs and a flogger—just in case.

  He opened the Boardroom app on his phone, anticipation ramping up his lust. The custom application had been designed by him and created specifically for this group. Pride rose in his chest. He glanced through the short list of planned scenes taking place around the city tonight and in the near future. He’d orchestrated this, and in the process, had given every member the freedom to play and explore their sexual desires in a safe, sex-positive environment.

  His father would curl his righteous, indignant old toes if he had one iota of a clue that his precious son was the mastermind of a private sex group.

  He made one last check of the players for his scene and froze. Concern flashed in before he could block it. One woman had dropped out, but another had filled her spot.

  That was fine. It happened all the time.

  There wasn’t an
yone in the group whom he’d object to fucking—man or woman. Sex was sex. As long as everyone agreed to what was going on, everything was good.

  But he hadn’t expected Danielle. Not tonight. Not here.

  Chapter Two

  Danielle Stables inhaled, eyes closing. She held the breath for a beat before releasing it on a long, slow exhale. She had this.

  The thin straps of her dress slid from her shoulders with nothing more than a light brush and a nimble shrug and roll. The loose baby-doll style was meant for comfort more than appeal, and really didn’t matter since no one would see it. Her nipples puckered when the cooler air hit them. A shiver overtook her as goose bumps chased down her arms.

  She stepped out of the material and laid it over the back of a chair next to her trench coat. The darkness provided a protective barrier from the outside world, which was spread out on the other side of the floor-to-ceiling windows in the small conference room. The view was stunning. She barely saw it, yet she was very aware of the wrongness. Being almost naked in a public setting screamed of deviance.

  Energy wound through her in a slow crawl from her toes, up her calves, thighs, past her pussy to her chest and finally her mind. There was such power in secrets. Everyone had them, but few wielded them successfully.

  Most tried to hide them. Stash them away in shame or guilt or fear.

  But not her.

  No, she embraced every damn one of hers.

  The soft ends of her hair tickled her shoulders when she released it from its loose bun. She swiveled her head and let the strands slither between her shoulder blades. She parted her mouth, swept her tongue out to moisten her bottom lip.

  A small bundle of nerves fluttered in her stomach. They twisted around a knot of acceptance that’d been lodged there forever. Long before she’d joined the Boardroom. Years before she’d married and divorced. Eons before she’d risen to the VP level at a prominent Silicon Valley company.

  This was simply a beat in time. A night of freedom and release. Of mutual desires shared to the extreme.

  And there was a strength in owning that.

  She rolled her shoulders back, smoothed a hand over her abdomen and let everything go. The stress from the day. The residual nerves. The tension that lined her neck and clenched through her shoulders. The expectations and disappointments.

  She closed her eyes as she dipped her fingers beneath her panties to stroke a single finger over her clit. She sucked in a sharp breath and let the desire spread. It was just a little tease. A primer for the night ahead.

  The hallway was empty when she exited the conference room. The shadowed darkness and line of closed office doors added to the clandestine aura that tingled over her skin. She strolled the short distance to the boardroom, hips rolling. The decadence of parading through an office building in nothing but her lace panties and heels sunk into her mindset to hum beside the lust.

  A low moan snaked through the air to call her forward. A sultry gasp. A mumbled word she couldn’t understand. Those notes of freedom welcomed her into their fold.

  She stopped in the boardroom doorway, a hand braced on the doorjamb, pulse rising in expectation. She found him in less than a second. A blink, really. On the other side of the long table, leaning against the windows. Arms crossed, shirt gone, the button on his dress slacks undone.

  Her heart hitched, then stalled on her long inhalation.

  She’d skimmed right over the other two couples in the room. They were already deep in the throes of foreplay, clothing mostly discarded, mouths locked together in heated kisses, hands roaming over bared skin.

  The hedonistic indulgence rippled through the semi-darkness to cloak the room in sin and acceptance. There was something dark and edgy that called to her whenever she entered a Boardroom scene. Lush. Bold. Defiant.

  Hers to own.

  The skyline twinkled behind Trevor in a sea of yellow, white and red lights that blurred into insignificance when she focused on him. Her nipples pebbled from the sheer potency of his gaze. It swept over her on a wave of lust and want. There was nothing hidden in his glowering perusal. Nothing abstract or detached either.

  Trevor James wanted to fuck her senseless.

  And she wanted that, too.

  Hell, she’d wanted that since their first taboo kiss, instigated by a dare and executed on a rush of teenage bravado.

  “Danielle.”

  The low rumble of her name prickled down her chest to simmer in her core.

  He curled his finger in a slow motion to draw her to him. His intent shimmered out to stroke her in a rush of need.

  She drew her lower lip in to wet it with her tongue, hunger burning to life within her. She raised a brow, a sultry smile lifting as she moved forward. In any other situation, she might’ve met his arrogance with a raised middle finger or a stubborn refusal to submit to his command.

  But not here. Not with him.

  The air seemed to vibrate over her skin, the energy crackling with each step she took closer to him. He slowly straightened when she rounded the end of the table. A predatory gleam came over his presence even though she was the one moving.

  She stopped, heart racing, just out of his reach. Blood roared in her ears, and she struggled not to fidget beneath his stare. Instead, she chose to savor his appreciation. The lust shining in his pale eyes. The sultry lowering of his eyelids. The flex and release of his jaw.

  She took it all in. Fed on it while she eye-fucked him right back.

  Trevor was perfection in the male form. Mature beyond the young hotshots and toned in a balance of moderation. His chest was firm and cut, as was the outline of muscles that dipped beneath his waistband despite the wealth of gray that now shaded his light-brown hair. But that was only side candy.

  Trevor exuded confidence in a way few men could. He always had. There was nothing subtle about it, but he pulled it off with a quiet charm and calm sophistication that drew people in or intimidated the hell out of them.

  Right here, right now, she battled between falling into his arms and running from the room. She did neither one.

  He lifted his hand and curled his finger once more, beckoning her closer.

  She took one small step forward, enough to bring him within reach. Anticipation raced over her nerves, turned her stomach and sent a rush of heat over her breasts and back. She lifted her chin and relished every little sensation.

  A moan filtered through the room—a sharp reminder of what they were here for. It wasn’t a secret, not even close. She would be fucked tonight. Thoroughly, completely and most likely by more than one person.

  But this right here, this moment was like a first kiss. It hummed through her system, building and cresting the longer she waited.

  His hand snaked out so quickly she had half a second to think before she was dragged forward. Her gasp was sucked from her on a startled hitch. He cupped the back of her neck in a possessive hold that matched the fever of his expression.

  Her pulse jerked into high speed and didn’t decline. Heat pierced her flesh when she made contact with him, her palms landing on his rib cage. Skin on skin. Soft over hard. Heat infused with lust. Every nerve ending sang in a sigh of finally.

  God, yes. Please.

  Her chest lifted and fell with each breath she sucked in, yet her head still spun. A combination of want, lust and possession smoldered within his pale gray eyes. They were stunning in their mix of ice and passion that could switch in a heartbeat.

  Her lips were parted in hope, a silent offering she couldn’t verbalize. He was going to take it, she had no doubt of that. The mystery was gone, but the suspense remained.

  His hand tightened on her nape before it eased upward, tangling in her hair to cup the back of her head. He held her to him with the firm pressure of his other arm locked around her waist. Was she tra
pped or willingly caught?

  At eye level with her heels on, she searched him. Not for answers she’d long given up on ever getting, but for understanding. For want and, at least on this, acceptance. Commonality was a powerful bond, and they had that if nothing else.

  “This is a pleasant surprise,” he murmured. A hint of mint blended with the hypnotic scent of his cologne. The deep spice and heat and sex fragrance lit up every one of her awareness cells and stroked her into a state of remembered hedonism.

  She inhaled long and slow and let the languid aphrodisiacs flood her. She smiled with the secret knowledge drifting through her. “My schedule opened up at the last minute.” Truth infused with a bit of evasion. He most likely knew that, too.

  His brow quirked up just a hitch, but no question came. The slightest pressure on her head had her tilting it. She wet her lips in automatic preparation as he shifted closer.

  Her eyes closed, and she almost whimpered when his lips ghosted past hers. The light stubble of his beard sensitized her skin with its harsh abrasion when it grazed over her cheek. She sucked in a breath, hands gliding up his chest to circle his neck. Her breasts pressed against his chest in a welcomed contact. Her nipples sprang to life, pebbling into hard buds with a rush of tingles that raced to her pussy.

  Heated breath streamed over her ear, and she turned her head as another wave of tingles bled down her neck to tangle with her spreading desire.

  He nipped her earlobe, the sharp sting zipping into the heady chorus of sensations. His palm grazed down her spine, fingers dipping beneath her panties to grip her ass cheek before he slid his hand back up.

  She melted beneath his touch. Every part of her yearned for more while relishing the build. The ache between her legs grew with each movement that only hinted of what was to come.

  He’d mastered her body long ago, and they’d traveled far beyond those first rushed touches of adolescent defiance. The ones that’d tumbled them both into the heady world of sexual pleasure unrestrained by societal norms.