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  He debated a number of answers before admitting, “Because it’s true.”

  Her single nod was executed with precision. “You’re not that bad.” Her tone was dismissive as she started to walk again, her strides slower. “But it’s good to recognize that there’s always room to grow.”

  She didn’t bother to turn around when he remained planted in his spot. Her retreating back held the same straight posture she’d employed to take on life. Be proud of who you are. Walk tall and people will think you are.

  Her words of wisdom had threaded their way through his life, inspiration that might’ve lacked warmth but had been given with love. Tenderness was not her strength, not when she’d had to fight for everything she’d earned.

  He caught up to her in a few quick strides, his heart a little lighter. “I give all the credit to my teacher.” He winked at her scowl tempered with a half-smile.

  “You’re too hard on yourself,” she said. “You always have been.”

  “Again…” He shot her a knowing look.

  “Humph.” Her chin hitched up, but she didn’t counter his implication. A defensive edge tightened her voice when she spoke. “I only wanted the best for you.”

  In poured another dose of guilt. He closed his eyes, wincing at the twist in his chest. “I know,” he said softly, contrite. “Thank you.”

  She waved him off again. “It’s what parents do. That’s why you stew so much about your own.”

  He couldn’t deny it, but what was the personal cost for such focused dedication? His mother had never married, and she’d rarely dated, even after he’d left home. At least not that he knew of.

  “But what about now?” he asked, digging his hands into his jean pockets. “Do you ever regret giving up so much for me?”

  She turned to him, her earnest intent highlighted by the soft glow of the streetlights. “Do you? Regret what you’ve given your kids?”

  “No. Not even a little.”

  Her nod confirmed her agreement. “Then why would you think I do?”

  Another round of doubts screamed through his head, all triggered by one powerful encounter that’d unlocked longings he couldn’t shut down. Or did he really want to?

  He had no idea why they’d reemerged now and a part of him didn’t want to snuff them back out. That was the issue.

  “What about you, though?” he pushed when he could’ve let it go. “What about what you want?” He glanced down the street, seeing the years of sacrifice that’d trapped her there.

  “I have exactly what I want.” She started walking again. “I have a family. A family I built.” The last snapped out to remind him of her history. Her own mother had basically abandoned her, leaving her to be raised by her grandmother after her father had died. A grandmother who’d tried but hadn’t had the energy to create a nurturing home life.

  He scrubbed a hand over his scratchy jaw, kicking himself. He had no right to question her choices, not when each one had been made for his benefit.

  “I’m good,” she reassured him when they reached her door. “I have no regrets. I’m happy with my life and where I am.” She squeezed his arm, pressing home her point in the same manner she’d used for as long as he could remember. “If you’re not, then you need to look at why and change what you can.”

  “I’m fine,” he rushed to say.

  “Are you?” She raised a brow, shaking her head when he nodded. “Then why all the questions?” She found her keys in her purse and turned to unlock her door. “You only dig when you’re trying to uncover something.”

  He chuckled at her play on words, choosing to ignore her observation that hit too close to the truth. “Thank you again for staying with Ben.” He brushed a kiss to her temple before he ducked his head inside the door to give her home a quick visual sweep. He handed her bag over, gratitude clogging his throat. “You’re the best.”

  “As are you.” Her smile held the love she rarely uttered with words. Actions had always been her method of expression, and she’d passed that trait onto him. “And don’t worry so much about Ben. He’s got a good head on his shoulders. Trust that he knows how to use it.”

  He waited until her locks clicked into place before heading back to his house. His thoughts continued to race in a disconnected path until he shut them down. Tomorrow would bring another day of routine and with it the normal he relied on. That had been enough for so long he had no idea how to change it even if he wanted to.

  And why should he when there was nothing inherently wrong with where he was? He had a good life. His kids were fine. He had a company to improve and employees counting on him to keep them working.

  He’d forget about Kennedy and the feelings she’d stirred up. There were more important things to stress over than how he got off.

  A lot more.

  He’d focus on each and every one of them until the longing disappeared—or he took Trevor James up on the offer he’d laid out a few months back.

  Had that been the trigger? The casual invitation to an exclusive sex group had rolled off the tongue of the Faulkner Investment Group president after a few drinks over a business dinner. He’d declined, yet…why? It wasn’t like Matt had a moral or ethical objection. Maybe there was something there, something he should explore before outright rejecting the invite.

  Maybe he would if his dick didn’t stop twitching every time Kennedy’s sweet submission and engaging banter invaded his thoughts. She’d given him so much while maintaining her strength, and that’s what got him the most. She was different. No matter how hard he tried to dismiss her and the night, he couldn’t. He couldn’t shake the what-ifs and if-onlys that refused to be silenced.

  He’d resisted the urge to look her up or dig into who she was. Knowing her personal details wouldn’t change his situation. They’d had one evening of fantastic sex. Nothing more, even if part of him craved a different ending.

  Chapter Nine

  Kennedy slid her bra down her arms and set the garment on the chair. Her blouse hung over the back, along with her suit pants. She probably should’ve worn something more…alluring, but no one was there to see her undress.

  The cool air danced over her bared skin. Goose bumps spread down her arms and puckered her nipples. She ignored them as she draped her suit coat over the chair and nudged it into the corner. The room offered little in warmth and everything in industrial luxury. She’d worked hard to ensure their boardroom walked the fine balance between modern and classic, the latter a nod to their manufacturing roots.

  She set the vibrator on the table, a snicker teasing her throat. The dick-shaped toy went out of its way to impersonate the real thing, right down to the flesh colored bulbous crown, complete with a slit and impression of veins lining the shaft. It was far from her favorite, but the tease factor made it perfect for the Boardroom. Every man who watched her ride it would imagine his dick pumping into her.

  A condom and lube landed next to the vibrator. She highly doubted she’d need them, but again, the tease factor made them a valuable tool. They laid down possibilities without promises. Public masturbation was her kink, and it usually ended at that—unless she changed her mind, and she rarely did.

  A devious smirk curled over her lips and fed its mischief into her. God, she needed this. It’d taken three weeks to get this scene arranged. Three long, frustrating weeks of circular thoughts chased by conflicting wants and desires.

  Matt continued to haunt her thoughts no matter how hard she tried to move on. She’d given up all attempts to distinguish between the man and the longing he’d set free. And there was no one she trusted enough to test out if the two were truly connected or simply linked by the circumstances.

  Submitting to anyone, even sexually, went against everything she projected. Changing that perception wasn’t an option. She couldn’t change it. Not if she wanted to retain her hard-earned reputation.

  She sent a text to Trevor before turning off her phone and tucking it beneath her clothes. He’d bring the oth
er guys into the room in five minutes. Anticipation trembled down her spine before it settled in her core. The distant slam of a door had her jerking around, a hand raising to cover her nakedness before she caught herself.

  The boardroom door was closed. The building was locked. Everyone had left—including her father—hours ago. Trevor was with the other guys. He’d take care of any issues. He’d shoot first if it meant protecting the group and everyone associated with it.

  Her pulse raced despite the logic that’d kicked in. Doing this at Keller Pallet was a risk she willingly accepted. Getting off on her daddy’s custom-ordered mahogany table was a bonus she couldn’t pass up. Not when she was this agitated.

  Which was also why she’d waited until Trevor could participate. As the Boardroom’s brainchild, the buck started and stopped with him, and Kennedy trusted that. He’d never let anything happen to her that she didn’t want to happen. Not under his watch.

  She had little worry for her safety within the Boardroom, but after Long Beach, she didn’t trust her sexual judgement. And that was new, not to mention unsettling.

  Doubting herself or her actions wasn’t a habit she wanted to get used to.

  She fluffed her hair, checked her reflection in the window. The image was fuzzy in the limited light from the small lamp, but it boosted her morale. She would rock this scene and remind herself of the power she held.

  The table was cool on her bottom when she sat on the edge. Scenarios skated through her mind before she scooted back, lying down when there was room to brace her heels on the table, her knees bent. She closed her eyes, inhaled long and slow. The chill on her back was quickly diluted beneath the heat building within her.

  This was hers. She owned her desires. She decided how the scene went. She controlled her orgasm and incited the men’s.

  She let that sink in as she grazed her fingers over her abdomen. Her muscles clenched, anticipation firing. Unwanted, visions of Matt raced in. Of teasing him just like this. She hooked her pinky under the line of her panties in an exact replica of her show that’d enticed him to dive in and take what he’d wanted.

  And she’d let him—no, she’d given him that right and so much more.

  Now she was taking it back before she forgot why she could never do that again.

  *

  The non-descript building sat just east of the Oakland airport in an area cemented firmly in the industrial category. There was nothing that screamed exclusive in the basic whitewashed three-story structure. The long line of rolling garage doors reminded him of his own building, as did the basic economy of its appearance.

  Matt studied the front door as a clean-cut man in a suit waited to enter. The lighted parking lot cast its glow on the guy, but his features remained indistinct given the distance. Matt had parked in the back of the empty lot, still undecided on if he was going inside. He should turn around and never look back. Yet…

  Here he sat, stomach knotted, anticipation sparking over every nerve ending. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, the low patter doing nothing to settle his thoughts. He should go home—and Ben was most likely in bed by now.

  He rubbed his eyes, pressing back the guilt that came from working too late. But he’d needed to finish a contract and that’d led to reviewing the budget before he’d read through another chunk of resumes that’d been culled by his HR manager. And then there’d been this appointment.

  His phone rang, blasting its demand for attention through the silence. Trevor. He answered with a gruff, “Hello.”

  “Are you coming in?” No introduction, no preamble. That’s how Trevor worked, and Matt liked it.

  His response sat poised on his tongue. He could still decline.

  “No pressure,” Trevor said after a moment. “But I’m not standing at this door for much longer.”

  The front door of the building swung open for the guy who’d been waiting. Trevor stuck his head out, phone pressed to his ear as he stared across the lot directly at Matt’s car. Of course Trevor had seen him. The man missed very little.

  Matt shoved his door open, disconnecting the call. His dress shoes clicked out his path over the asphalt, confidence fueling his stride. He buttoned his suit coat, rolled his shoulders back, chin lifting as his decision settled over him.

  One scene, that was all he was committing to.

  He wasn’t participating, according to Trevor. He had a voyeur-only role for a woman who loved to get off in front of men. He’d signed the damn paperwork, submitted all the medical tests. He might as well see what the Boardroom was about.

  Trevor had given him the rundown on the exclusive group two weeks back, after his dick continued to pop to attention with even the slightest thought of Kennedy. Solo hand jobs were no longer enough to knock back his sex drive that’d returned with a vengeance. Maybe this was nature’s payback for years of denial.

  Trevor nodded as Matt passed him in the doorway. The lobby of Keller Pallet was clean if sparse. The few chairs were standard waiting room construction, the small reception desk basic. It pretty much matched every manufacturing business that focused more on output than putting on airs. He related to that, but it wasn’t exactly the high-class atmosphere he’d tagged for a group of Bay Area executives.

  “This way.”

  Trevor led him through another set of doors and up two flights of stairs to the top floor. An open set of cubicles took up most of the interior area, with offices lining the back wall. The silence echoed through the space and beat into his calm.

  His pulse notched up as they entered a small conference room. Four men were already there, all of them in suits and ties like himself. Every one of them eyed him with a glance before turning their attention to Trevor.

  “Gentlemen,” Trevor greeted. “I trust that you’ve all read the scene rules.” He waited for the other men to nod before continuing. “She controls the scene. No touching without permission. No demands. You can jack off, but don’t come on her.”

  Trevor had shared the scene details with Matt when he’d invited him to participate. The hands-off scene combined with the convenient proximity to his own office had cemented his agreement. However, he couldn’t shake the strangeness that prickled over his nape. He pinned it back to his years of military training and the simple fact that he was here to watch a woman masturbate.

  Good thing he hadn’t added that detail to his calendar.

  Trevor glanced at his phone before he turned it off and set it on the table. The other men did the same, and Matt followed along without being told. He’d read the rules before signing the extensive NDA, but this was also basic security.

  He never would’ve come, let alone joined, if his identity and participation hadn’t been protected. Based on the general air emanating from everyone in that room, they all had a lot to lose if their connection to the Boardroom was ever leaked.

  And he was here, why?

  His dick gave an interested twitch when his thoughts raced back to Kennedy plastered against a window, her moans hungry as he claimed her. He cursed his damn inability to let that night go. Need added its persistent crawl over his chest and hunkered down in his balls.

  The line of windows behind a few of the men reflected the interior back at him. The darkness beyond added to the unknown and pinged his old instincts. Were there other sightlines into the building? Were they being watched?

  He had to trust that those risks had been mitigated. Trust. He was handing every one of these men his, and they were doing the same. The unique bond tied them together even though he recognized none of them. Possible business contacts rolled through the back of his mind before he dismissed them.

  He wasn’t there to deal or think about work. No, he was there purely for pleasure. Naughty, blatant, sexual pleasure.

  The men filed out of the room in silence, a few wallets and a belt left on the table along with the phones. His shirt collar seemed to constrict with each step he took. He ignored it, though. He couldn’t show discomfort, not if he
wanted to maintain his tentative place on the bottom rung of the hierarchy pole.

  Control demonstrated authority, which led to power. The path to success had been laid down for him in strict military precision from the time he’d entered the ROTC program, his sights set on becoming an Army officer.

  Trevor led them into another room, the long table and leather executive chairs defining it as the company boardroom. The only light was provided by a small lamp located on a cabinet along the far wall. A smattering of distant lights peppered the darkness through the windows, reminding him of the airport beyond.

  Those details were immediately cataloged and dismissed for the woman lying on one end of the table. Her dark hair spread in a fan of silk over the gleaming tabletop, her pale skin stark against the wood. Her naked breasts were topped with deep rose nipples already pebbled into hard tips. But his gaze caught on the freckles that peppered her chest, some so faint, others darker declarations that triggered the very memories he’d been trying to forget.

  His swallow choked back the burst of want that zinged to his dick and launched a dozen images, both old and new. Her hair, the freckles, the long legs and brazen ownership of her desires were all too similar. It was like Trevor had seen into Matt’s fantasies and dropped the reality in his lap.

  He resisted the urge to move closer, to shift down the table to get a glimpse of her face. The odds were so long, so impossible that it was better to sink into the fantasy than be disappointed by the truth.

  But what…if…

  Her hand worked an obvious rhythm beneath the scrap of white lace that acted as panties. She trapped a nipple between her fingers, squeezed.

  Lust simmered in his groin and flooded him with unwanted longing. He curled his fingers to keep from mimicking her actions when he could already feel the hardened softness beneath his fingertips.

  Her low moan trembled through the room on the husky rumble of desire. The note kicked down the door he’d steadfastly resisted opening. It triggered another round of memories, of that same distinctive rasp falling from her parted lips before she’d pleaded for more.