Page 32 of Breaking Blaze

Blaze looked across his immaculately kept desk into the sharp green eyes of the well-dressed man sitting on the opposite side, his long legs crossed at the knee, his long fingers steepled in his lap. Dressed in what Blaze could only guess was a high-cost designer business suit; the man gave off the image of a big boss. The man’s expression was curious and yet there was an air of power, assertiveness, and “don’t fuck with me” that Blaze couldn’t help but respect.

“So, Mr. Harris, what do you think of my proposal?” Sylvester White inquired, his penetrating eyes alert, watching for every expression to cross Blaze’s face.

Blaze leaned back, taking the time to glance over the information in the documentation on the desk in front of him. Over fifty pages of legalese detailing a supposedly lucrative partnership with White Estate Corporation, a multi-million-dollar real estate corporation based in Miami, interested in building luxury rental properties along the shore in Jackson Key. Properties that the man across from him, President and CEO Sylvester White, wanted Harris Construction to build.

Fuck. This could be a game changer.

“The land has already been procured, the permits are waiting for signatures…all I need is a local, highly-professional, dedicated, hard-working construction company to build the properties,” Sylvester intoned, the smoothness of his voice doing nothing to hide the hard intention underneath. The man was all business. And he wanted to go into business with Blaze.

Staring at him, Blaze pressed his lips together, the desire to agree immediately difficult to push back. Hell yeah, he wanted to do it—it meant years of work for him and his crew. It meant millions of dollars of potential revenue, which meant growing his crew and even paying his current crew more money, which they fucking deserved.

AJ is going to shit a brick, he thought, fighting a smile.

“I think it best if I let my lawyer look over this before I make any decisions,” Blaze began, his heart in his throat. “But I can tentatively say that working with you would be a smart business decision.”

Sylvester grinned, a mouth of straight, white teeth flashing. Like a shark.

“I think you’ve made the right decision,” he drawled, leaning forward, his eyes giving nothing away.

Business completed, Sylvester departed in his long, black chauffer driven car, leaving Blaze to stare down at the pile of potentially life-changing papers. If his lawyer read through it all and said it was a good deal, Blaze wouldn’t hesitate to sign on the dotted line. The deal would mean a stable income for him and his men for at least three years.

A grin spread across his face as his chest swelled with pride. Four years of breaking his ass and his back to build a name for himself in Jackson Key, and finally his hard work had paid off.

After last night, kissing and claiming and nearly fucking the woman he loved, Blaze didn’t think his week would get any better.

God, he couldn’t wait to tell Anna—she would be happy for him. Maybe even happy enough to actually forgive him for being an ass for the last four years.

Nah.He expelled a heavy breath.

It would take more than his making a business deal to change the way he’d hurt her for so long. No. He would have to work at it, patiently and doggedly showing Anna that she meant the world to him, that he was truly sorry for all he’d done, and that he was willing to make up for it for the rest of his life.

She was worth it.

Eager to have any contact with his Anna, he checked the clock. It was almost noon, which meant Anna had started her shift at Happy Jack’s an hour ago. Annoyance pricked him. He still hated that she’d changed her work shift without telling him, almost as if she’d gone out of her way to avoid him by making it so that he couldn’t spend time with her at the bar while she worked at night. Then again…in the past, he’d spent more time fucking around with other women at the bar than he had just being with Anna. And he only had himself, his fucked-up promises, and his black soul to blame for it. She’d suffered just as much as he had, and it was his fault. All that time he could have been with Anna, but he’d fooled himself into thinking that she was better off without him and the poison of his blood. His father’s ghost. His father’s venomous words that still slithered through his mind, like a serpent made of memories and hatred. A serpent that, even now, coiled low in his belly, waiting to strike at him when he was most vulnerable.

But he was stronger now, and he’d sacrificed enough, hadn’t he?

A twisting in his gut nearly made him drop the phone but he held on to it. Barely.

Blaze: Hey baby, when are you taking your lunch?

God, he needed to see her. Last night, touching her, kissing her, tasting her…it hadn’t been enough to slake eight years of hunger. He needed to kiss her, pull her into his arms and just hold her. Taste her again. His mouth watering, his cock twitching, he stood up, ready to fucking go.

Anna would be pressed against him again.

Soon.

Now.

Anna: I get off at 5 so I only get 30 minutes.

Blaze: When?

Anna: Whenever.

He didn’t hesitate.

Blaze: I’m coming. Be ready for me, baby. I’m starving.

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