Into My Arms Read online

“Thank you.” I know it’s gratitude for respecting her enough to know she could handle this challenge on her own.

  “However, I am not entirely altruistic.”

  “Oh?” Her voice dips to a husky octave.

  I untuck my shirt. “What are you wearing?”

  “I…um…a tank top.”

  “Panties?”

  “No.”

  My breath hisses.

  “Are you trying to phone-sex me?” she whispers, half scandalized, half intrigued.

  “There is no trying,” I growl. “If I want, I will phone-sex you.”

  “Wow, Mr. Romantic.”

  I can hear the smile in her voice and answer with one of my own. “With you, yes.” What was it that Bran had said, how with the right girl I’d want to be romantic? He is a smart fucker. “Slide your palm to the inside of your thigh, but don’t go higher.”

  “Are you serio—”

  “Do it.”

  “Okay, okay.” She laughs quietly. “You have quite a bossy streak, don’t you?”

  “I haven’t touched a female body besides yours in almost a decade. All I want to do is get my hands on you again.” Oh, the sweet irony, to want to touch, desperately now, but to be halfway across the world. “Are you doing it?”

  A soft, restless gasp. “Yes.”

  “Slide up, just a little, until you graze the hair.”

  “Okay.”

  My mouth dries at her whimper. “Are you wet?”

  “I don’t know. I’m doing what you said, not going any farther.”

  I clear my throat. “Slide one finger over your skin, drag it through your folds.”

  She makes a desperate sound.

  “That good?” I’m so hard it hurts.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Are you wet?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Now stop.”

  She gasps. “Are you serious?”

  “I’ll be home tomorrow. The next time you come, I want to be there.”

  “You are killing me.”

  My own groan echoes hers.

  “Seriously, I am a ghost over here.”

  “Tomorrow,” I whisper.

  “You strike a damn hard bargain—that ruthless reputation is well earned.”

  I allow myself a single touch, stroking my cock once through my trousers. Shit, I almost come from that alone. “I plan to strike a harder bargain tomorrow night.”

  “I’ll be ready to negotiate.” She drops her voice a sexy octave. “I hope you bring your A-game.”

  “Good night, Bethanny.”

  She lets out a frustrated breath. “Good night, most infuriating man in the world.”

  “You love it.”

  She pauses for a moment. “I really do.”

  I press the phone against my heart, staring out the window at a street that could be anywhere. And in a few hours I fly from the place I once lived to a place that might actually be home.

  * * *

  After I land at SFO, the driver takes me straight to Zavtra Tech. I enter my office and head to the security screen. There’s a new face at the desk outside, and even though I knew this moment would come, I can’t do anything, not even breathe. Bethanny has become a vital key to my day-to-day sanity. Knowing I could look in on her whenever my heart desired was a steadying presence.

  My phone buzzes. Bran must be wanting to check up already, like a pain in the ass, one I’m profoundly grateful for.

  I glance to the screen and freeze.

  Bethanny Jacobs: Meet me on the roof in five minutes.

  My mouth slides into an inadvertent smile. So she wants to give a few orders? Can’t say I mind. Not with her.

  I’m on the roof in three. The sun is out and the temperatures are high, nearly a hundred degrees. Rolling up my shirtsleeves, I glance around. She’s there, alone under a canopy on the rooftop patio in a creamy sundress, looking as fresh as a rose. I begin walking toward her, taking my time to savor her beautiful face.

  How did I ever think she resembled Maryska? Perhaps they share similar features, but that is where their resemblance ends. Beth is brightness, a slash of primary color in my monochromatic world.

  She chews her top lip in concentration, hands clasping her ever-present cup of coffee.

  I take a seat. “You wanted a meeting, Ms. Jacobs?”

  She gives me a private smile, sets down the cup, and opens a large canvas bag, pulling out two sandwiches, two apples, and two bottles of lemonade.

  “Now that my app has been approved, I have more flexibility in my schedule as a product manager,” she says. “I’m not chained to my desk for an exacting taskmaster.”

  “The idea of you chained to a desk isn’t a bad one,” I rumble.

  Her cheeks glow. “Why, Mr. Zavtra, this is a business lunch between colleagues. One I’m hoping your new assistant will continue to schedule into your busy day. You’re a little lean, need to eat more because I like my guys with bulk.” She picks up a red apple and takes a slow, tantalizing bite. “I went to Whole Foods last night,” she says after. “My raise means I can indulge in organic produce.”

  I want to devour that mouth, taste the tart fruit on her tongue. “How is Koroleva?”

  She grins. “I love my new office aquarium. She was quite a surprise gift, but I think she misses you.”

  “Now you are making jokes.”

  “Just projecting.” She scoots closer. “I missed you, okay?”

  “Very okay.” I am glad she missed me. I want her to ache as bad as I do. “Are you liking your new position?”

  The glow in her eyes lights up her whole face. “Loving is a better word. I’m finally following my heart, which seems smart, seeing as how it led me to you.” She reaches out and does a thing that up until recently I thought would be impossible. She takes my hand, holds it between her own. Lifting it to her face, she kisses my knuckles. “You don’t have to fight alone anymore.” Her tongue darts out and I’m cock-hard and brain-soft in an instant. “You have me in your corner now.”

  “All I want is you in my arms.” I pull her close and kiss the top of her head, inhaling the faint floral hint of her shampoo.

  “Guess it’s a good thing this is my favorite place to be.”

  About the Author

  After studying at the University of Montana–Missoula, Lia Riley scoured the world armed only with a backpack, overconfidence, and a terrible sense of direction. When not torturing heroes (because c’mon, who doesn’t love a good tortured hero?), Lia herds unruly chickens, camps, beach combs, daydreams about as-of-yet unwritten books, wades through a mile-high TBR pile, and schemes yet another trip. She and her family live mostly in Northern California.

  Also by Lia Riley

  Upside Down

  Sideswiped

  Inside Out

  Carry Me Home

  Praise for the Off the Map Series

  “Upside Down gave me all the feels. Romantic and poignant, the journey of love and acceptance lingers long after the book is closed.”

  —Jennifer L. Armentrout/J. Lynn # 1 New York Times Bestselling Author

  “Upside Down is a sizzling and heartfelt addition to the new adult genre. Talia makes for a quirky and incredibly believable heroine, and her OCD adds unique depth to her character. She and Bran light up the pages with their intense chemistry.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “Riley’s debut delivers gut-punching emotions, sexy sizzle, and wry humor in a contemporary new adult story line…thought-provoking and lyrical, gripping from beginning to end.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Lia Riley turned my emotions Upside Down with this book! Fast paced, electric and sweetly emotional—I couldn’t put it down!”

  —Tracy Wolff, New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author

  Get Lost in the Off the Map Series by Lia Riley

  Available now!

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Welcome
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  Epigraph

  Chapter One: Z

  Chapter Two: Beth

  Chapter Three: Beth

  Chapter Four: Beth

  Chapter Five: Beth

  Chapter Six: Beth

  Chapter Seven: Beth

  Chapter Eight: Z

  Chapter Nine: Beth

  Chapter Ten: Beth

  Chapter Eleven: Beth

  Chapter Twelve: Z

  About the Author

  Also by Lia Riley

  Praise for the Off the Map Series

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  Copyright

  PIATKUS

  First published in the US in 2015 by Forever Yours, an imprint of Grand Central Publishing, a division of the Hachette Book Group

  This edition published in Great Britain in 2015 by Piatkus

  Copyright © 2015 by Lia Riley

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  ISBN 978-0-349-41183-5

  Piatkus

  An imprint of

  Little, Brown Book Group

  Carmelite House

  50 Victoria Embankment

  London EC4Y 0DZ

  An Hachette UK Company

  www.hachette.co.uk

  www.piatkus.co.uk