One Night, Six Days & A Date Later

His hands gripped her hips hard and she pushed back into him, taking in more of his considerable length. He filled her up completely and she knew nothing else. Not her name. Not where they were.

Another thrust in, deep enough to impale her, and she was mewling, and screaming. Every so slowly, he pulled out, rubbing his tip against her entrance. Ivette went wild, moving against his tip and arching her ass further into him.

"Fucking hell, lass," He breathed.

She'd never thought she would like being called lass, but on his tongue that had licked every inch of her body, and his lips that trailed kisses down the small of her back to her cheeks, it sounded like a prayer.

He slammed into her with abandon and Ivette screamed with pleasure. Nothing should feel this good. This. . .was sin. Tension built up in her, arching her back, her toes, and it rose still, causing her to shake uncontrollably. Her entire world had been reduced to nothing. He drove harder into her, groaning and Ivette matched his movements, tightening her inner muscles as she did.

He growled and flipped her roughly on her back.

She gazed into his brown eyes that had darkened with lust and she smiled, tongue darting out to lick her lips. His eyes caught the movement and he stilled, as if remembering where her tongue had been only a few minutes ago, and how it had swept over his tip and curled around him until his knees had buckled.

His lips slammed against hers and at the same time, he slid into her.

She bucked, moaning hoarsely, and gripping his hair tight enough to pull it out as she urged him to go faster, harder. He did and she felt electricity zap through her when his tongue found her nipple and clamped down on it.

Stars exploded in her vision as a release, great enough to fracture her body, soul and mind into bits, tore through her, shattering even the ground underneath the king-sized bed and she vaguely registered the pain that shot through her back as she hit the headboard.

Her gaze lifted to his as she panted, still quivering. Covered in sweat that dripped down on her, he was still the most stunning man she'd ever seen. She wanted to lick it off him. Taste the salt of him on her tongue. Ivette told him as much as a purr escaped her when he hardened in her.

He dropped his head in the hollow of her shoulder and murmured against her skin as he moved faster in her. "What is your name, lass?"

"Whatever you call me," She moaned.

"Tell me," He whispered, dragging his tongue on the curve of her ear.

She gasped. "Ivette King."

Ivette's hands wobbled, trying to keep the groceries from spilling out the bag. She had requested for a bigger grocery bag but the blonde at the counter had scowled and dismissed her, attending to the hunk who had stood beside her.

Had she been feeling up to it, Ivette would've shown her ID to the woman, just to see her expression when she realized just who she was scowling at.

But it had been a tough day and she wanted nothing more than to take a steamy shower and maybe if Aaron would be kind enough to let her sleep tonight. . .

She shook her head. It shouldn't feel like a fucking chore-but then, everything felt like that these days. Work, Aaron, people-chores.

Balancing the bag and her work case in one hand, she punched in the code to Aaron's apartment and stepped in. When the motion sensor lights didn't come on, she felt for the switch and flipped it.

"Surprise!"

Ivette's heart lurched and so did she. The bags dropped from her grasp and fruits, vegetables and steak skittered across the marbled floors, rolling over to where Aaron crouched on one knee, holding out a small box and-

A ring?

Her gaze rose from the ring box to the crowd behind him, most of which she recognized as business partners, the press, a few friends-oh there was Riley and Ann-and her mom and dad and Aaron's parents and-

Ivette couldn't breathe. Not as her gaze touched the surface behind the crowd, where the question, "Will you marry me?" was projected.

Her gaze locked with Aaron's and he smiled, raising the ring box higher as though shoving it in her face would make her answer faster.

"Will you marry me and make me the happiest man in the world?" He asked and smiled brightly.

Ivette's world spun and a black hole suddenly appeared in her peripheral, threatening to take her whole-not literally. She had waited so long for this, for her boyfriend of more than eight years to pop the question. She had dreamt of it being just like this. A surprise party, a gathering-though, she could do without the crowd that was currently overwhelming Aaron's vast sitting room-- a simple ring and a toast.

Most of all, she had dreamt of indeed being the happiest woman in the world and Aaron, the happiest man.

Now, she felt suffocated. Her breaths came too quickly and her pulse began pounding. The words settled in her stomach like lead and she swallowed to keep from gagging. Marry him? Marry Aaron Maxwell? It shouldn't be a hard decision to make. It shouldn't make her sweat so much or feel so sick to say. . .yes-because-because there was no other option. She couldn't say no. She loved him. Had loved him since they were kids. She loved him and that was all that mattered.

She looked to her mother, seeking comfort and maybe something else. However, her mother's hazel green eyes-very much like Ivette's-were the same as always. Cold and calculating. Her father's was not any better. He only inclined his head in a silent message, "Do not fuck this up."

She swallowed and took nervous steps up to him. Her hands grew clammy and she clenched her fists as she let her lips curve into a smile. She had done this for years in front of God knows how many cameras. It was easy to slip the happy mask on.

What did hurt was that Aaron didn't see through it, and had never been able to see through her many masks.

"Yes, Aaron," She breathed, placing her hand atop his waiting hand.

His smile broadened and as he slipped the ring onto her finger, hoots and shouts of congratulations rose in the air, nearly deafening Ivette. She was still in a daze when Aaron pulled her into his arms and slammed his lips on hers, claiming her mouth in a devouring kiss.

His tongue dove into her mouth forcefully and Ivette's eyes stung as she kissed him back. She could hear the clicks from the cameras and so she let her hands go up into his hair as the crowd applauded their union. She let go of her worries and agitation, long enough to melt with his heat.

Aaron pulled back and they stared at each other, panting. His brilliant blue eyes gleamed with desire and despite herself, Ivette bit on her lower lip. Later, his eyes seemed to say as they dipped to her lips and her answering smirk wasn't entirely forced. He turned, attending to their guests and Ivette made all but two steps towards the groceries still lying on the floor when her friend screamed.

"Ivy!" Riley squealed, pulling her into a warm hug. "You're engaged! Congrats!"

Ivette squeezed her friend tightly before releasing her and narrowing her gaze at Ann who stood behind Riley, observing as always. "You both knew about this and didn't think to tell me about it!" She yelled in mock outrage.

"What would be the fun in that?" Riley giggled, grabbing Ivy's hand and cooing about how huge the stone on the ring was and how stunning it looked on her finger. Ivette didn't bother telling her it was heavier than the weight of the company on her shoulders.

Ann arched a brow in question but Ivette smiled, conveying her thoughts to her best friend with that single look. Ann didn't buy it though. She shrugged and made for Aaron's bar. "If you need to talk, you know where to find me."

It had been the phrase Ann told her every now and then, but Ivette had never tried to take the helping hand. She had always handled her shit by herself. Cleaned up after her own mess before her parents could ever find out. She was strong. She was fearless. She didn't need help. She was Ivette King, daughter, and only child of the third largest business tycoon in America. She was heir to King Corp. and she could handle getting married.

As soon as Riley found the men in the party more interesting than the 20-carat emerald cut stunner set on her finger, Ivette began picking the apples and tomatoes from the floor, shoving them into the bag. At the family residence, there were servants for these sorts of things but she had insisted Aaron get an apartment. A private one, far away from prying eyes.

Too bad he had gone and invited the whole world into what used to be 'their space'. She sure as hell would not be spending the night with the paparazzi everywhere, taking photos of her in his bedroom and in the lingerie she wore just for Aaron.

"Ivette darling, come here," Her mother called out, just as she dropped the bag on the kitchen counter. Squaring her shoulders, she sauntered over to where her parents stood, discussing the upcoming event with a man she vaguely recalled from one of the many opening events she had attended.

"This is Michael de la Rosa," Her mother introduced, tipping her wine glass toward the middle-aged man, elegance, and grace pronounced in her every move. "I was just telling Michael that the merge between King Corp and Maxwell Industries will bring new-"

Ivette's mouth went dry and she stopped hearing the rest. She schooled her expression into neutrality, even if she was livid. The companies were merging? They had not informed her of it and her mother was busy tossing it out for the press to eavesdrop on it. It would no doubt make the 10 pm news, along with her engagement to the heir of Maxwell Industries.

Her gaze shot to Aaron whose smile seemed to keep growing and she noted her business partners flocking about him like bees would to honey.

Suddenly, it all made sense.

The godsdamned proposal.

She had waited for years, asking him when he would. They would always fight about it. He would say he didn't like to be pushed and promised he would propose when he felt like the time was right. She had waited for him and clung to that promise like her life depended on it. Until she gave up on it. Until she became comfortable with just being his plus one.

Apparently, the time became right the moment King Corp became competition. Of course, his parents had talked him into actually proposing.

Ivette fumed silently, even as she smiled and took the hand of Mr. Michael and shook it, welcoming him to her engagement party. The useless sham of an engagement party. She should have known. The only thing that would make Aaron Maxwell happy, other than a happy flaccid cock was more money.

The happiest man in the world, he'd said. Fucker.

She sucked in a deep breath, reeling her anger back in. It wouldn't help anyone if she confronted him in front of so many. She could feel their stares boring into her back. Into her full chest. Into her forehead. They were always watching. The press. The people. She had had eyes on her the moment it was clear her mother couldn't have any more children, leaving her as the sole heir to her father's business. She couldn't mess up. She couldn't make a mistake. It would ruin the reputation she had painstakingly built for years.

So Ivette smiled and kept up the diplomatic show of strength and power alongside Aaron.

Only when the last of the guests departed did Ivette let the mask of calm drop. Her hands trembled and she tightened her fists until her perfectly manicured nails bit into the skin of her palm.

"What is this about the companies merging? Why did no one speak to me about this? Not even you, Ron?" Ire sparked in her eyes as she glared down at Aaron who was nursing a tequila shot.

He peered up at her, bleary-eyed. "I don't see how it should be an issue. You represent your father, and he made the decision. Semantics." He tossed the shot back in his throat and groaned slightly from the burn. Then he had the audacity to crack her one of those panties-melting smiles he had given her the first day they met that had caused her brain to stop functioning.

"We're engaged, Ivy," he said, rising to his feet and peering down at her. His warm breath and the smell of alcohol tickled her nostrils. "I can get to call you mine." He cupped her cheeks and forced her to look into his deep-set eyes. "My fiancee. My wife." He said and his lips grazed hers in a soft kiss.

Ivette knew he was trying to get her mind off things. She knew he was trying to convince her that what she knew was true was wrong, even if she hadn't gotten around to spelling it out. That he'd only proposed because the union would place them at the top, with only Cian MacGregor as their competition.

No one had seen the man. He never appeared in person for events or before the press. His PA, Rosalind Franklin, handled every social gathering. There were speculations that he was a hideous old man whose face would make your insides turn to acid, and to back up these claims, there were photos of a hunched old man walking with Rosalind into CG Enterprise.

It didn't matter how hard Ivette tried to raise the profits and cut the costs. CG Enterprise was always a step ahead, leaving Maxwell Industries and King Corp behind, eating dust.

Merging the companies, however, would multiply the efforts...if not triple them. Ivette knew it was a great idea, business-wise. What greater way to secure trust between teams than make them family, permanently? Her father had always been the one to think ahead. Plot ahead. She took after him, after all. What she didn't like, however, was that she'd had no say in the matter.

They had gone as far as turning the most important moment in her life into a business deal. What had she not already given to them? To the company? To her parents? Aaron was the one real thing in her life and he'd gone behind her back and done this, just for the merger. It was too much. Too much to handle. She needed a breather.

"Stay," Aaron said, pressing feverish kisses to her temple, her cheeks, and her neck. He walked them into the couch and before he could push her on it, Ivette swerved, putting a safe distance between them.

Aaron frowned, blonde brows knitting together.

"Ron, there is so much work to do tonight with this merger and the Global Awards coming up. I can't stay," She said, shifting the neckline of her camisole to cover the exposed flesh of her chest. It wasn't entirely a lie. It was true that there was much work to do but not tonight.

She couldn't stand being touched by him right now.

"You could stay over, and we could. . ." Aaron trailed off as his eyes skimmed her figure, heating up when they touched her chest. He didn't need to finish, not with him looking at her like she was his meal.

Ivette turned before she could give in, grabbing her bag and jacket from the couch. "You know I would love to, Ron. I'll make it up to you later. I promise."

He nodded tightly, clearly displeased with her decision. "Sure. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

Ivette paused. "Why? Lunch date?"

He plunked down on the couch, snatching up the remote. "No. The merger will be signed at King Corp tomorrow. Did your father not tell you that?"

She blinked, her only sign of surprise. No. They didn't tell her that. They didn't tell her anything concerning this and she couldn't help but wonder why. Now that there would be a merger, where would that place her in the hierarchical levels? If her parents had a son-in-law to take over, what use did she have to them other than breeding more heirs for them?

She shuddered at the thought. There was no way she'd let them take it away from her. She worked her ass off for years, bringing the business to the height it currently was. She wouldn't let them displace her, even if it was for Aaron.

She left the apartment. She was too wound up tight to go back home, so she deviated from the route home, taking the path to the newest, liveliest club that opened over a month ago. Tempest Bar and Extras. Riley had recommended it for 'unwinding' and even got her a golden entry ticket, but Ivette had never gotten around to checking it out. Too much work on her table and too many people watching her.

Today, however, she didn't give a shit about any of it. Even if it was for an hour, she would let it all go.

As she got out of the car, she slid off the ring and dumped it on the dashboard. Aaron would throw a fit if it got stolen. Plus, it would draw attention to her.

She then straightened, shrugging off her suede jacket, leaving only the camisole and the tux pants on. The aim was to lose the official air and look about her. She pulled her hair out of the bun and ran her fingers through it, straightening it and arranging the strands the best she could.

The wind whipped at her hair and her clothes and she smiled faintly as she breathed in. Nothing felt as good as the summer breeze currently kissing her skin and tousling her hair. Nothing smelled as fresh. The knots in her stomach unraveled a little just by breathing in. She should come out more, she considered as she shut the door.

Her phone vibrated and Riley's reply to her, 'Are you free?', message popped up.

" Sorry, Ivy. Can't make it. I got caught up with something," Riley wrote back and Ivette was pretty sure that 'something' was the hunk she had been flirting with at the party.

Ivette's lips twitched as she wrote back. "That good?"

Riley's reply came in a few minutes later as she strode across the street, to the suited bouncers by the huge double doors that placed a damper on the music within. She could feel the bass vibrating off the floors as she drew closer and her pulse pounded in synch with it. Impressive.

"Yassss. . ." Riley had written back and Ivette gagged playfully before putting the phone away. She slipped out the ticket from her pants and handed it to the bouncer whose hand was already outstretched. The other pushed at the door and Ivette prowled into the pulsing building.

*****************

Ivette poured the shot of Orange Vodka into the glass of Redbull and chugged it with half a thought. She was laughing, but she wasn't entirely sure why. She grabbed another shot and knocked it back, savoring the slow burn as it slid down her throat.

Her gaze slid over to the drunks stumbling about the dance floor in an euphoric daze and her attempt at sliding off the stool to join them had her stumbling and tossing the glass shots everywhere. Her vision swam and she tipped her head back to the white classic ceiling, laughing at herself.

Yes. She was drunk as hell, and daddy wasn't there to tell her what to do. Oh, he'd be mad when she showed up at the merger signing, reeking of alcohol.

The thought amused her enough to stagger toward the waiting Vodka shot and she tripped on her heels, nearly falling on her face.

A warm strong arm snaked around her waist, righting her.

"Thank you-" She murmured, turning to look at the man who held her and her words died in her throat.

He was gorgeous. Sinfully, devastatingly gorgeous. It struck her stupid and incapable of words. Clear brown eyes held her gaze and she had never felt so naked in her entire life. His eyes pierced through the armor she constantly kept up, saw right through her-the good, the bad, and the crazy-and pieced her together again like she was some puzzle he had figured out. His inky black hair fell over his right eye as he tightened his grip around her waist, lest she fall, and she watched in awe as his hair gleamed in the light, shimmering like the surface of a pool would when moonlight graced it.

His lips moved, drawing her attention to the sensuous curve of his beautiful mouth and Ivette wondered what it would feel like to trace it with her fingers, her tongue.

His eyes crinkled with amusement, like he could read her thoughts, and even after he set her down on the stool, she simply stared at him, awestruck. She had never met or seen anyone so. . .hot was an understatement. Her gaze drifted down to this white shirt and the strong tan column of his throat, exposed by the undone buttons.

She swallowed. Perhaps, it was the alcohol in her system making her think such dirty and hot things. She wanted to trace his strong, stubbled, beautifully cut jaw with lines of kisses. She wanted to touch his hair, just to find out if it was as soft as it looked.

And his lips. . .

Ivette turned from him and picked another shot from the table. She tossed it back and tossed back another in quick succession.

She heard him speak to the bartender, requesting something classy, yet strong, but Ivette wasn't listening to his words. His voice. . .The tempting timbre of that sensual voice caressed her skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Yeah. The alcohol was definitely messing with her. There was no other explanation for her miserable line of thoughts. She had never looked at anyone like that-except for Aaron-but this was different. Weird on all accounts. She needed to shake it off.

She tried to get off the stool again and she stumbled slightly before righting herself.

"Careful now," That delicious voice resonated through her again and Ivette shuddered. He had an accent that she would be able to place if her brains hadn't bailed on her. She shot a glance in the man's direction, eyes snagging on the taunting smile that brightened his features and Ivette threw caution to the wind.

She sashayed over to where he stood and tipped her head back to look at him. "Who are you?"

He chuckled, sipping from his glass, sound almost lost to the constant bass and booming in the background. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Ivette tucked a lock of her behind her ear and glanced at him through lowered eyelashes. "Can't blame me for trying to place a name to the stunning face."

"Oh?" He purred and Ivette's toes curled in her heels. He lifted the glass to his lips again and Ivette had absolutely no idea what came over her as she intercepted the glass before it reached his lips.

She held his gaze as she took the glass and lifted it to hers and she didn't look away as she drank from it. His eyes darkened as he watched her but his grin of amusement only widened. A mix of strong alcohols went down her throat. The taste of the mixture was so acrid, Ivette choked and a few drops went down the wrong hole. She started to cough.

"What is that? I've never tasted anything so vile," She said amidst coughs, setting the glass down. Her eyes watered and her head spun.

The man chuckled, extending a checkered handkerchief that appeared from nowhere. "It is an acquired taste."

She took it from him and dabbed at her chin and her eyes before slipping it into his shirt's pocket, giving him a nasty smile she had never dared giving anyone before. "And you?"

His sensual smile sent the butterflies in her stomach scattering, seeking for a means of escape. He suddenly leaned in and Ivette found her heart racing, her body leaning into the rock-solid heat of about six foot five inches that he was. His scent. . .it was intoxicating. He smelled like spice, man, and musk.

"Dance with me, lass," He whispered, warm breath tickling her ear.

Her toes curled and heat pooled in her core. Something gnawed at her subconscious. Something she should recall. She peered down at her hand, her bare fingers, and the gnawing feeling tripled.

However, it was soon forgotten when the man's hand circled her waist, tugging her along with him gently to the dance floor.

She stumbled again, the effect of alcohol increasing now that she moved, but he held her before she could fall, pulling her closer to him as they staggered into the dancing throng. She couldn't tell if she was staggering or he was. Her world kept spinning and she laughed, digging her fingers into his arms that held her waist and cupped her ample backside.

His eyes beheld her with something she couldn't place and suddenly, it was just the both of them in the booth. Everything else faded but them and the music.

So Ivette danced, reducing herself to the undulating beat of the music, to the feel of his body pressed flush against hers, to the sweat sliding down her body as she writhed on the dance floor.

She raised her hands to her hair, swishing her hips left and right, and she might have been screaming and laughing at the top of her voice, without a single care in the world.

His brown eyes guttered in a way that told Ivette he understood. Though he didn't know shit about her, though she hadn't told him a thing about herself, his eyes, they showed understanding. Of who she was. Of what she needed right now. That for the first time in... forever...in her life, she unleashed herself. She was wild, but she was free. Even if it was the alcohol, she savored it.

He savored it too, drinking her in with his heated glances. Watching her hips sway to the song. She might have swished her hips seductively. He might have noticed, if the sinful look in his eyes was any indication.

He matched her, step for step and when he pulled her closer, their bodies melded together like they were cut from the same cloth.

His fingers delved into her hair and a small sound escaped her as his fingers brushed her scalp. That coupled with the fire in her blood, Ivette erupted.

She twisted, moving around him in a dangerous invitation as she traced her manicured nails around his neck, down his strong back. Down his slim torso. She cupped his firm backside and giggled naughtily when he whirled around, catching her wrist.

He pulled her to him roughly and she bit on her lower lip to prevent another giggle from escaping her lips.

"I'd take you home, right now, lass, but you are drunk. Perhaps, some other time." His voice was husky, and his accent was thick--Scottish-- yet, the smooth expression remained on his face. A mask, very much like the one she wore every single day.

Ivette didn't like that much. She wanted to see more of him. Feel more of him. She leaned in close enough to share breaths with him and she whispered, "Now is as good a time as any."

And she kissed him.

It was tentative at first, testing, searching, tasting. He stilled against her, fingers slacking around her wrist.

Fucking hell. A moment of sanity gripped Ivette and she went still too. What was she doing kissing--

His tongue swept in, touching the roof of her mouth, and the thought dissolved into nothing.

Her hands tangled in his dark curls--they were indeed as soft as they looked-- and his tongue teased her in cruel addictive strokes that had her knees buckling.

His hands went about her, squeezing her backside and grinding her against him.

She moaned against his lips, digging her nails into his back.

She had never felt such a thing before. It felt like she would combust.

Her world narrowed to his lips against hers, hot against her neck, nibbling, sucking and she shuddered, unable to keep upright.

He hoisted her up without much effort and she locked her legs around his torso. He moved, without breaking the kiss and she had a vague sense of being pushed up against the wall...or door.

His hands found the hem of her camisole, pulling it out from where it was tucked into her pants. She bucked her hips against his when those traitorous fingers dove underneath her shirt, palming her over the red lacy bra she'd slipped on that morning.

There was that gnawing sensation--she was forgetting something rather important--but she could hardly think when his palms kneaded her breasts like that.

Cool air kissed her skin and she had enough awareness to notice they were outside, walking past her car, walking further down the street.

He murmured something against her lips but she could hardly hear him over the pounding in her temples, the steady ache between her legs, their harsh breathing, and her thundering heart.

It was a crazy blur after that.