Page 11 of Tell Me You Need Me

Now, I’m here with the crew. Dante has his feet kicked up on his desk. Dom is standing near the window drinking his own cup of coffee. Rafe, Vik, and Gavin are scattered across the room, two in club chairs, one on the leather sofa.

“So, I thought you weren’t going after Mischa,” Dante breaks the silence first with a slow grin spreading across his smug face.

“Yeah, right. The man brought five billionaires to a lounge only to watch her drink with her friends. He’s been down for the count for a while now, I’d say.” Dom lets out a low chuckle, turning from the window to cross his arms overs his chest.

“She’s definitely the one for you,” Vik says, shaking his head with a smirk. “I mean, look at him. Nolan hasn’t smiled on a weekday in years, and today it looks like he bought one of hell of a company.”

“What I want to know is how Maxim hasn’t figured it out yet. Seriously, if the guy doesn’t know already, he needs to get his vision checked. The tension between the two of you last night was so thick you could cut it with a knife.” Gavin snorts, tossing a pen onto the coffee table.

“He’s blind because he doesn’t want to see it,” Rafe interjects, leaning back against the cushions. “He thinks of Nolan as his rock-solid business partner and friend and Mischa as his little sister who still needs a curfew. Put those two together in his head, and I’m sure he’d lose it.”

“About that,” I say, taking a slow, deliberate sip of my coffee after listening to the banter, letting them have their say. These men have had my back through it all: corporate takeovers, family drama, and multi-billion-dollar gambles. There’s no secret among us, and usually, there isn’t between Max and me, either. “He doesn’t know yet.” The guys go quiet. “But he did hear us on the phone yesterday morning.”

“He what?” Dante’s eyebrows shoot up.

“I was taking a call from him while Mischa was…occupied.” I’m completely unbothered by the sudden grin that spreads across my face. “He heard me out of breath, thought I was on the treadmill. And, well, he knows there’s a woman in my life, and he knows she was working me over—but he doesn’t have one single clue it was Mischa.”

“You took a call, about work, from her brother while she was giving you head?” Vik bursts out laughing, shaking his head.

“She refused to back down, and Mischa has no idea he heard us, either,” I rumble, ready to put an end to this conversation.

“You’re a sick bastard, Cross. I respect it.” Dante raises his mug in a silent toast.

“I’m not sure how this is going to play out when it all blows open,” I continue, my expression morphing into something more serious. “He may get pissed. He may get complacent once he realizes I’m not going anywhere. All I know is I’m not hiding her. Not at fucking all.”

Before anyone can respond, the quiet chime of my phone interrupts us. I pull it from my jacket pocket and glance at the screen, hoping it’s Mischa finally waking up after I left her a note to take her time coming in this morning. No such luck. A single notification sits on the display.

“Speak of the devil.” I mutter.

Maxim: Need you in my office. We have a situation with the Singapore deal.

I stare at the message for a second, my jaw tightening, before I slide the phone back in my pocket and stand up from my seat. There’s no reason to respond to his text, not when I’m heading to his office anyway.

“Gotta go.” I button my suit jacket with a quick, decisive movement. “Wish me luck.”

“You’re gonna need it, brother.” Rafe smirks, resting his hands behind his head.

“If we hear shouting and loud crashes, we’ll give you five minutes before we wade in,” Dom adds with a grin.

I wave them off, turn around, and walk out of the office. I step out into the corridor, heading straight for the elevator. When I press the button, it opens immediately, allowing me to step inside and hitting the floor I need for my level. There’s no telling how long this is going to take, so I’ll grab a couple of files along with my tablet. A few moments later, the door pings and opens, and I’m stopped in my tracks.

Mischa.

She’s sitting behind her desk right outside my office doors, perfectly put together in a cream blouse, typing away on her keyboard. She looks up as I approach, her eyes catching mine, probably remembering our time together last night. I know I sure as fuck am, and so is my cock.

“Good morning, trouble.” I send her a wink.

“Good morning, Mr. Cross.” Christ, what that does to me.

“Behave, Mischa,” I groan beneath my breath. She doesn’t. Instead, her eyes travel the length my body, and I can’t help but do the same to hers. The deep V in her blouse gives me the most tantalizing view of her breasts and makes me think about nothing else but fucking them.

“Kind of hard to do that when you’re staring at me like that.” I lick my lower lip, wanting nothing more than to say fuck it to Maxim and let the whole deal fall through.

“Yeah, it sure as hell is.” I somehow manage to break through wanting Mischa beneath me. “I’m grabbing my tablet and the Singapore files to meet with Max. Hold my calls, and order us lunch?”

“Wait a minute, you’re not going there just to discuss the deal. You’re telling him. Today? Now?” She stands up from her desk, hands going to her hips, which thrusts her tits out.

“Told you we weren’t hiding from him or anyone else, Mischa.” My hand reaches out to cup the side of her neck, and my thumb glides back and forth over the front of her throat.