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It was two in the afternoon and I was sitting in my office, but my mind was still in the park. Elena, I said her name over and over in my head, enjoying the exotic beauty of it while I envisioned her stunning face. She had been a pretty little thing, and I meant little. When I helped her up, she barely reached my chest. I could have carried her where she needed to go. I should have. There was no doubt in my mind that she’d feel wonderful in my arms.
Shit, there it was again. I looked down at my slacks and I was sporting another stiff one. It took all my willpower to stop the need to stroke my cock. Not even the hottest, kinkiest fucking porno made my dick this rigid and thick.
I wanted to see her again, but I didn’t think I’d run into her again. She’d been injured, so she probably wouldn’t be running, but maybe I could find out more about her. I leaned back in my leather chair tapping a pencil against my desk, trying to come up with a solution to my dilemma.
It took a few minutes for me to find a way because all my blood still hadn’t returned to my brain yet. She said her name was Elena Collins. I could look her up and find out something about her. With my wealth, I had everything and anything at my disposal. Making one call should get me what I needed—access to my Elena.
“Hey, Duke, I need some information on a woman; her name is Elena Collins. Can you get it to me?” I knew he could. There wasn’t anything that man couldn’t do. He had his own firm in Boston but was working in Seattle at the moment for one of his clients.
“I’ll see what I can do. Let me get back to you in a couple days.” Two days seemed like forever. What if everything changed by tomorrow? She could meet the man of her dreams before I could buy her heart. I wanted to win that shit, but hey, I wasn’t attractive with all the marks. I looked like Two-Face. Alright, it wasn’t that bad, but it was the way I felt.
“Okay,” I said begrudgingly. I felt like a petulant child demanding that he give me my present now. I looked down at my desk pad calendar. Today was June 21st and I marked that day with the word “HOPE.” For the first time in so long, my heart felt alive. It thumped uncontrollably every time I thought of her, and it had only been two hours.
Chapter 2
I worked to the bone that night and the next day after trying to forget that I had to wait to see her. After working twelve hours a day, I hit my gym up, lifting the max and doing sprints. By the time I got to bed, I was exhausted and it didn’t take me long to fall asleep. As usual, my nightmare ripped through my sub-conscious waking me up harsher than an alarm clock. Who needed a loud beeping when I had busted metal and blood-curdling screams?
I woke up the same time as the past two days from my nightmares. With hope in my heart, I left to go for a morning run. Instead of going full out, I stayed close to where I saw her before—near the entrance closest to my condo. I’d been too confused to stop her from leaving, but this time, I wasn’t going to let her go until I secured her. She wasn’t out yesterday, and I wondered how hurt her ankle was. Did she need medical attention? She was limping hard that day.
I ran in a circle for an hour, but Elena didn’t show up. Damn, I had to go into the office today even though I felt like ditching. I wanted to be sitting at a café like a nutty stalker hoping to get a glimpse of her before following her home. I couldn’t, though, because I had an early morning meeting. My mood wasn’t fit for talking to potential clients. I didn’t need their business, but I offered to hear their proposal. Managing to focus long enough to listen to their ideas, I bought into it and made a deal. The rest of the day dragged on until I got a call from Duke.
“I’ve got news for you. You’re not to going to like it.” I could hear the frustration. He didn’t want to tell me something.
“Just tell me already,” I roared into the phone slamming my fists on the desk. First thing that I thought of was that she was married and I’d missed my shot. Fuck, I couldn’t handle the damn suspense. I was frazzled, horny, and lonely.
“She’s the daughter of Timothy McCoy.”
“What? No... fuck no. She can’t be.” Of all the people in the world, she had to be related to him.
“She is. She was three years old at the time of the accident. She’s eighteen now.”
“I can’t believe this. I can’t. Damn it.” I had a big decision to make. Could I continue to pursue her, or should I forget that I met the first and only woman to make me feel anything other than contempt? Could I let go of that shiver of desire that coursed through me every time I thought of her? The answer was easy—no.