Adam's Fall Page 18

  Minutes sail by as we continue to climb in our pleasure. Higher and higher we step until she slows us to an almost painful stop. We catch our breath and fix our gazes once again, neither looking away. A focused concentration gathers the sexual energy between us as the world around us has faded away.

  I’m floating on a lover’s high while Kathryn slides her hands over my body and her hips join my thrusts. She leaves me weak and defenseless as we push through plateau after plateau. I silently pray for mercy as my need to release inside her becomes more than I can bear.

  “No pulling back this time.” She attacks my lips, and I run my hands all over her body in a frantic act of desperation.

  I hold onto her tight as I plunge ahead. My delayed release builds within me, and I don’t want the powerful feeling to end. But I feel it tagging my back and running down my spine. Finally, it tackles me to the ground, and I explode inside her.

  “Fuck!” I yell. Her pussy clutches around me as she miraculously joins me with her own climax.

  Coming down from our mutual high, we collapse on our sides onto the cushiony mat. Our gazes remain stuck like glue. As our labored breaths begin to calm, a wide grin of shear bliss spreads across Kathryn’s face. Pure contentment. I skim my fingers along her flushed cheek and move a stray hair away. Leaning in to kiss the tip of her nose, previously unspoken and guarded words leave me.

  “Kathryn,” I say seriously. The haze in her eyes evaporates as I capture her attention. “I love you.” I pause as she searches my face. I hope she’s not wondering if I’m feeding her a line. “Truthfully, I’ve only spoken those words to one other person in my entire life.”

  “Oh, Adam, I believe you. That makes your words even more special to me.” She pushes her hands through my hair. I move my head to mimic the twist and pull of her fingers. “Part of me wants to say you’re crazy for already feeling this way. We’ve known each other for such a short time. But I can’t deny that I’m falling for you. Maybe we’re both a little nuts.”

  “Perhaps.” I laugh. “I’ve felt this way for some time. I think it really hit me when I thought you were going to die. The thought of something happening to you… of Simon...” I look into her eyes, pained at the thought. “I knew then there was something special about my feelings for you. They were deeper than I’ve ever experienced.”

  Kathryn brushes her fingers over my jaw and brings them back up to my hair. “I felt the same way when I heard Simon’s gun go off and you fell to the ground. I screamed for you and for me. I thought I might have lost you. Just like when I’d witnessed Jean-Paul’s death.”

  Her eyes blur with unshed tears.

  “You witnessed his death?” I catch a tear as it runs down her cheek. “I had no idea.”

  “Yes, he was skiing ahead of me, but he turned, looking uphill to find me. He ran straight into a tree. Never saw it coming.” She shivers in my arms. “All I could do was watch in horror.”

  “It’s okay, baby.” I squeeze her in my arms, comforting her as she quietly cries.

  “You know my mother was right about you and me. You’re a lot like Jean-Paul.” She’s smiling through her tears, and I smile back at her in relief.

  “How so?”

  “You and he are very much alike: rich playboy, never the same girl twice, closed off emotionally, etcetera. Then one day at a charity event, we met and crazy sparks flew.” She laughs,

  “ ‘Closed off emotionally’?” I ask with a laugh, knowing she’s right. “But seriously? You met him at a charity event, too?”

  “Yes, something similar to my mother’s charity.” Kathryn chuckles. “Do you think it’s ironic?”

  “Maybe it’s fate.”

  “Maybe,” she says, her somber mood disappearing.

  “But you did meet the man of your dreams, right?”

  She laughs. “There better not be a wife hidden away somewhere.” She tries to punch my arm, but I intercept her wrist before she makes contact. Her body is underneath me before she knows it, and I’ve trapped the other wrist now, too. She squirms in a halfhearted attempt to free herself. But the smile on her face betrays her true feelings.

  I bury my face in her neck. Her scent surrounds me. “Damn, you smell so good.”

  I kiss from her ear to her mouth. Our tongues play as she parts her legs beneath me. It’s an invitation that can’t be missed, and my already hard cock comes in contact with her wet need. I release her hands and rise up on my elbows.

  “I want you again, beautiful.” My voice is a raspy whisper. She answers me with a thrust up of her hips. I respond by lodging myself deep inside her in one very strong thrust of my hips.

  “Adam.” She sings my name over and over again.

  “I’ll never get enough of you, Kathryn. Never.” Our movements become desperate and frantic, so different than our tantric sex. Maybe it’s our newly professed love, but our desires burn through our bodies until we’re left scorched and spent.

  ~

  Startled awake, it takes me a moment to get my bearings and realize I’m in Kathryn’s bed. The softness of her sheets and the heat of her body next to me are my reminders. But even lying in heaven, I can’t stop my racing heart or the cold sweat from covering my body as the dream I had lingers around me in the dark.

  Simon reappeared in my sleep again. The weird visions or hallucinations I’ve been having during the day have stopped, but the nocturnal visits have continued each night since the shooting.

  My waking hours were crazy enough this week as I tried to calm my investors’ fears, so I was relieved the daytime flashbacks stopped. The last one was at the fucking press conference on Monday. Just thinking I saw him standing there in the crowd… unnerves me. But Simon still haunts my nights and robs me of sleep, one damn precious commodity.

  Raking my fingers through my hair, I ease myself off the mattress and pad off to the bathroom. Standing in front of the sink with my palms spread out on the counter, I lean into the mirror to inspect myself. My face is pale—almost ashen—and the wide eyes peering back at me are unsettling.

  I need to pull my shit together, and I sure as fuck need a good night’s sleep. I can’t exist on an hour here or an hour there. My days are filled with meetings and appointments, some lasting into the wee hours of the night. People rely on my business decisions, and staying on my game is critical.

  Turning on the faucet, I cup my hands and gather some water to splash on my face. When the coolness hits my hot skin, I look up, expecting to see steam rising from the surface. I keep throwing water on my face until my fevered skin feels relieved.

  It doesn’t work, though, and I towel off the droplets.

  Walking back into the room, I find my tux from last night. I’d brought our clothes back into the bedroom after our visit to the harem tent. I pull on my pants and put on my shirt, leaving it unbuttoned.

  Rubbing my eyes, I head to the kitchen to make some coffee. As I’m walking through her living room, I notice my tuxedo jacket lying over the chair where I tossed it. My phone’s tucked away in an interior pocket, and I grab it to check over my messages and emails. Even on a Saturday night my business emails pile up, so not checking for hours can add up to countless missed messages.

  Before checking the emails, I scrounge through the kitchen cabinets, looking for Kathryn’s stash of coffee. Once I find the pricey gourmet grounds, I brew a pot and swipe over my screen of my phone.

  The first few emails are ones I was copied on and will be handled by Mrs. Carter on Monday. She filters out the fluff for me because I don’t have time to search through each email for what’s pertinent.

  Scanning through my inbox, I stop breathing when I see an email from Thorpe. Before I open the email to see what he wants, I take a deep breath, prepping for the unknown.

  I skim over his words, trying to gather Thorpe’s tone and its basic content. He wants to confirm our meeting on Wednesday at two. He says I seemed a bit distracted last night, not that he could blame me. I imagine the shit-eat
ing, condescending grin on his face as he wrote those words to me. Fucking bastard.

  I fire off a reply. My fingers fly over the keyboard, spelling out just enough to convey that I’ll be there as promised but keeping it brief. His words stir up the anger in me lying just below the surface. My only solace is knowing I’ll see the look on his face when I reveal the facts of his illegal activity. I fucking can’t wait!

  Scrolling down further in my inbox, I see an email from Dr. Payne, the ER doctor who saw me after the shooting. I’m hoping it’s the results from my STD tests. After opening up the email, I realize I guessed right. One word tells my story in text, CLEAN. Thank fuck. Considering my sexual history, I’ve dodged a big bullet… again. I grin, knowing I’m free to fuck Kathryn without a barrier. Skin-to-skin. My mind drifts for a few seconds as I dream about our next time together. I forward the email to Kathryn and include the words, “can’t wait to be completely inside you” with it.

  Next up are texts from both Tom and Patrick. They need to meet me for an early game of squash this morning and to discuss the week ahead. They’ve repeatedly sent me texts and are wondering why I haven’t responded. I roll my eyes because they’re up in arms after only a few hours.

  I’m torn because I’d rather stay with Kathryn this morning, but the call of duty as Kings CEO wins and I send back a reply saying I’ll meet with them in a little over an hour. The coffee I’ve made finishes brewing, and I open a couple of cabinets before finding the one holding the coffee cups.

  I add some creamer to my coffee and the white swirls on the surface. While sipping the coffee, I inhale the aroma deep into my lungs. The fog in my brain fades after receiving its much-needed drug.

  Glancing at the time on my phone, I believe there’s enough time to whip up some breakfast in bed for my sleeping princess. I imagine her nude from the waist up as I set a tray plated with eggs and toast on her lap.

  My mother was a big believer in a hot, protein-filled breakfast, and scrambled eggs are the only things I don’t burn. Digging around in her refrigerator, I locate some eggs and butter. The frying pan hangs from a rack above the kitchen island; I take it down and heat it up on the stove.

  I scramble the eggs in a bowl I’ve found and pop some bread in the toaster. After some stirring, I plate the steaming eggs and add the toast I buttered.

  The tray seems bare, so I browse around the countertops for something special to add to the mix. My first serving of breakfast in bed to the woman I love needs a special touch.

  An arrangement of unopened yellow tulips sits near her kitchen sink. I pluck one from the vase and head to the dry bar in the living room. I grab a small shot glass sitting beside the bottles of liquor. After walking back into the kitchen, I place the flower inside the glass after adding an inch of water. Perfect!

  I add a cup of coffee to the tray, and my princess is ready to be served by her willing subject.

  When I enter her bedroom, she stirs and pushes the hair from her eyes.

  “Adam, what are you doing up so early?” She glances back at the clock on her nightstand before sitting up.

  I grin, seeing her sleepy eyes and her hair tousled around her shoulders. I smile from ear-to-ear when the sheet falls into her lap, exposing her firm, full breasts. My fantasy come to life.

  “Woke up and couldn’t sleep. So I cooked you up a little something before I have to leave.” She peeks up at the tray I’m holding. “It takes a lot for me to cook. Or I should say it takes a special someone for me to cook for them.”

  “Wow. I’m impressed and surprised.” She moves back against the headboard and smoothes out the sheet on her lap.

  “Don’t be. Just eggs, toast, and coffee. Hard to fuck that up, even for me.” I shrug. “I wanted to do something nice for you. It’s going to be a busy week again for me. I may not see you until the birthday dinner for your mother on Wednesday night.”

  She pouts and I place the tray on her ready lap. I kiss her forehead before sitting down on the edge of the bed next to her. I smile as her eyes widen when looking over the food I’ve cooked for her.

  “You’ve really surprised me.” She reaches for my hand and weaves our fingers together. “Thanks,” she says in a soft voice, squeezing my hand.

  “My pleasure, beautiful.” I push some of her wayward hair back from her face and trail my fingertips down her cheek, then her neck, and then along the side of her breast. Her nipples harden as I gently stroke them with my thumb.

  “I want to remember you like this today.” I slowly peruse her from the top of her sex-styled hair to the perfect curve of her round breasts. “An alluring sex goddess made just for me.”

  Chapter 18

  Peters struts into my office at exactly one o’clock, our designated time. He’s carrying a folder of evidence and wearing a broad grin. Both are proof of the damning material we have against Xavier Thorpe, my bastard of a father.

  We have an hour to prep for the meeting with Thorpe. Hell, we’ve been prepping since Monday morning when Peters showed up with a stack of papers.

  Endless pages of documents point a guilty finger at Thorpe. Investors handed large sums of money over to him, believing he was bringing business and commerce to an underdeveloped area in New Jersey. In reality, Thorpe used the money he schemed to prop up his failing hotel resorts along the East Coast. The amount taken from investors is obscene, probably in the range of five billion dollars.

  He stole from legitimate businesses to keep flailing ones alive. It was the age-old scheme of robbing Peter to pay Paul. And nothing more than a smoke-and-mirrors charade that never pans out in the end because the unlucky Peters of the world always find out about the Pauls.

  His prestige is the only reason Thorpe can keep his investors blinded. He is ruthless and cutthroat in his business endeavors and doesn’t care who is affected by his hostile takeovers or layoffs. People are merely numbers to him. But all his dealings are above board, or perhaps like this one, they only appear to be.

  I smile as I imagine the world learning about his deceit. His lawyers would scramble to bury the accusations. But at the same time, his stocks would plummet, and his gilded reputation would be forever tarnished. The press would have a field day. Even if he avoided jail time, the fall from his throne would be satisfaction enough for me.

  “Good afternoon¸ Mr. Kingsley.” Peters snaps me out of my reverie. He sets the folder in his hands down on my desk with a plop. “No need to guess why you have that smile.”

  “It’s pretty fucking obvious, right?” I scoff and motion to a chair opposite my desk for Peters to join me. “I feel like we’re ready. Don’t you?”

  “In every sense of the word.” Peters points to the folder in front of me. “I have a copy of these papers with my assistant. She will fax them to the SEC and press outlets when I send her the word.”

  “I want you to take a vacation in a couple of weeks. The dust should be settled by then. You’ve earned some time off.”

  “Thanks, I’ll take you up on that. Perhaps a trip to Fiji. I’ve always dreamed of going there.” Peters looks out the window distantly. The man definitely needs to take a break, and truthfully, so do I.

  “I’m thinking about hopping around the Greek Isles with Kathryn.” I join Peters as we both look out the window. I imagine Kathryn dressed in a white sundress with her raven hair blowing in the island breeze, all the burdens of Thorpe left behind us.

  Peters shakes his head and smiles. “Well, Mr. Kingsley, I’m happy for you. You think this woman is the one?”

  “You’ve met her, right?” I can’t help but smile, thinking of her.

  “Yes, I have.” Peters says, agreeing with my assessment.

  “Hold on just a second.” I raise a finger toward Peters and push a button for Mrs. Carter.

  “Yes, Mr. Kingsley,” Mrs. Carter responds instantly.

  “I want you to research a vacation around the Greek Isles. Feel free to select the best options for us.”

  “I’ll have the
research for the vacation in order by tomorrow.”

  “Just email me the details. Thank you, Mrs. Carter.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I smile and end the call. I turn back to Peters and say, “So let’s run through the meeting one more time.”

  I reach for the folder and begin thumbing through the papers. This is the first time I’ve had the evidence in my hands because Peters wants to be the source of Thorpe’s wrongdoings, not me.

  I’ve had Peters silently watching over Thorpe and his business activities for nine years, so I trust him on this issue. When investors find out about Thorpe’s deceit, there won’t be any evidence connecting me to his downfall. My connection to this mess and disclosing Thorpe’s activities will remain hidden, I hope.

  ~

  On the ride over to Thorpe’s office, I check my phone for messages. Ollie and I have been exchanging emails this week since Kathryn told him we were half-brothers on Sunday night. Kathryn mentioned to Ollie that I was meeting Thorpe today. I open an email Ollie sent a few minutes ago.

  Afternoon, Adam,

  I know you’re planning on meeting our father today, and I wanted to warn you to be careful. The man’s a crafty bastard.

  Please be on your guard with him and touch base with me after your meeting. It will put my mind at ease.

  Look forward to finally meeting you in person tonight. We have thirty-two years of catching up to do.

  Your brother,

  Ollie

  I put down my phone. I never imagined I would have a brother when I was young, and now I do. Ollie is right; we have so much to catch up on. If only I'd known sooner, maybe things would have been different

  Eddie eases the SUV into a drop-off area outside the towering skyscraper belonging to Thorpe Partners. The monstrosity serves as homage to Thorpe’s power and control in this city. A perch from which he reigns. The twenty pieces of paper I hold in my hands will make his empire evaporate. The building will remain—perhaps only to become a beacon of his corruption. People will pass by and point as they carry on whispered conversation about the once- great business giant who fell.