Liability

by Aurora Rose Reynolds

  “There was one final stipulation. In order for the estate to continue paying for your education, you must live at home or on campus if you’re going to a boarding school,” he says, and Fern’s fingers latch onto my leg and her nails dig into my skin through the material of my dress slacks. Covering her hand with mine, I look at her grandmother, who has a very smug smile on her face.

  “If that’s all, Fern will be in contact with you, Mr. Ramos.”

  “Again, sorry for your loss, Fern,” he says, standing from the couch and placing his items back in his briefcase while handing Fern a copy of the will.

  “I’d like to talk to my granddaughter alone,” Mrs. McCauley says, crossing her feet at the ankles while sitting up a little taller on the side of the couch.

  “Not happening.”

  “It’s okay, Carter,” Fern says quietly from my side.

  “Fern,” I growl in frustration, turning my head to look at her, wondering what the hell she’s thinking.

  “You’ll be right outside, and I have a few things I’d like to say to her alone,” she presses, and I search her face then let out a breath.

  “Three minutes,” I tell her, waiting for her to nod. Placing a kiss on her temple, I get up off the couch and walk Mr. Ramos to the door, stepping out into the hall with him.

  “Who requested the stipulations in the will?” I ask him, closing the door behind me.

  “Mrs. McCauley and Mr. McCauley both. Mrs. McCauley’s daughter had her when she was eighteen, and then disappeared, leaving the McCauleys to raise Fern on their own. I believe they are just trying to prevent something like that from occurring again.

  “Has anyone heard from her mother since she disappeared?” I ask, wondering how much Fern knows about this situation.

  “Not that I’m aware of, but then again, I’m not in the McCauley home, and we were friends, but not close enough for either of the McCauleys to share that kind of information with me.”

  Looking at the door opening behind me, I watch as Mrs. McCauley steps into the hall, and then I look behind her as Fern lowers her head, following behind her while avoiding looking at me. Rage and vengeance begin to burn through me as I see a red handprint on Fern’s cheek, which she attempts to hide with her hair.

  “We will be leaving now,” Mrs. McCauley says, pulling on Fern’s arm.

  “Did you hit her?” I snarl, tilting Fern’s head up until her tear-filled eyes meet mine. “Get out now!” I roar, causing Fern to flinch and Mrs. McCauley to release her arm. “I do not give a fuck who you are,” I state, turning to face the woman I’m likely to murder. “You will never see her again. Do you understand me?”

  “You know the stipulations of the will, Mr. Vault. She’s coming home with me now.”

  “She’s not, Mrs. McCauley, and if you think the little bit of money you’re holding over her head will stop me from keeping your granddaughter, you’re sorely misinformed about the way I feel about her.”

  “Are you going to pay her way, like she’s some kind of whore you picked up off the street?” she asks snidely.

  “You ever call her a whore again, and I will bury you. Now get out,” I thunder, watching her face lose some of its color then her eyes narrow on her granddaughter.

  “I knew you were just like your mother,” she hisses before storming off down the hall toward the elevator, leaving a stunned Mr. Ramos behind.

  “We’ll be in touch,” I tell him before wrapping my arm around Fern’s shoulders and leading her into the apartment, locking the door behind us.

  Leading her into the kitchen, I set her up on the counter then grab one of the dishtowels. I place a few ice cubes in it before moving to stand in front of her, spreading her legs to stand between them.

  “You’re not leaving me, Fern. I don’t care what that woman says to you; you’re not going anywhere.”

  “I can’t use you, Carter,” she whispers, placing her hand over mine on her cheek. “She’s right. I can’t use you. It’s not right.”

  “You’re right,” I agree then pick her up off the counter and carry her to the bedroom to lie down. “I have some business to take care of, so I want you to get some rest,” I tell her, ignoring the look of anguish in her eyes.

  If her grandmother thought she was going to scare my girl away by making her believe she could hold something like money over her head, she had another think coming.

  Placing one last kiss on her forehead, I go into my office and make two phone calls—one to a private investigator, who I hope will be able to tell me more about Fern’s mother, and another to my estate attorney.

  Chapter 6

  Carter

  “Are you hungry?” I ask Fern, who is standing in the open doorway of the bedroom, once again wearing nothing but my shirt.

  Adding getting her stuff from her grandmother’s to the list of shit I need to get done today, I move to the kitchen and pull out some bread, peanut butter, and jelly, when she says, “Yes,” softly.

  “Come eat, and then we need to get dressed so we can head across town.”

  “Where are we going?” she questions, worrying a piece of hair between her fingers.

  “We’re meeting a friend of mine,” I say as I start to assemble her sandwich.

  “Okay,” she says, taking a seat on one of the barstools, watching me closely.

  “How much longer do you have in school?”

  “Three months, but I only have to go to two classes a day, in the afternoons.”

  “That’s good, baby. What did you want to do after graduation?” I inquire.

  “I was going to help Gramps out in his office over the summer then decide after that.”

  “You can help me in my office,” I state immediately, thinking about her sitting in front of me at my desk with her legs spread, showing me her pussy while I work on cases. “Only requirement is you have to wear skirts and no panties. That way, I have easy access to my favorite snack,” I tell her, watching her blush. Then I think about her being around the other men at my firm, and the lust I was feeling is replaced with something else entirely. “Never mind about the skirts. I don’t think I could handle my colleagues looking at you.”

  “No one looks at me.” She shakes her head, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

  “They do, baby. You’re beautiful and smart; plus, you have these long legs that go on for miles. Trust me. They would look, and then they would die.”

  “I don’t think so.” She shrugs, taking a bite of her sandwich I set in front of her.

  Tilting her head up to look at me, I tell her firmly, “You’re beautiful, Fern, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

  “You’re blind, Carter,” she says breathlessly, but I see a flicker of happiness in her eyes that’s been missing since I took her from the hospital.

  “No, you are. The old witch got into your head, didn’t she?” I ask, and she tugs her chin from my grasp. “Look at me.”

  “I’m going to go get ready,” she says, pushing her plate away and taking off toward the bedroom.

  Giving her a couple minutes’ head start, I follow behind her into the bedroom, where I find her in the shower. The clear glass doors don’t keep anything hidden from me as she leans her head back, causing rivulets of water to stream down over her face and breasts. I have seen beauty before, but absolutely nothing compares to her. Slipping off my clothes, I move into the shower stall and wrap my arms around her back until she’s pressed against me. Lowering my face to her neck then down over her breasts, I kiss each pink nipple.

  “You’re beautiful, Fern, and I won’t stop telling you until you believe me,” I growl, moving my hand down over her ass and placing the tips of my fingers at her entrance, feeling her slick heat coating them as I move them slowly in and out of her.

  “Carter,” she cries, and I kiss down her neck then pull each nipple into my mouth, sucking and biting until her hands in my hair are grasping tightly. Licking down her stomach, I drop to my knees. Our size
difference is so drastic that her breasts are now at eye level. Lifting my gaze to hers, I slide my fingers slowly over the bare lips of her pussy until her hips begin moving with my fingers and she begs me to touch her.

  Moving my hands around the backs of her thighs, I pull her forward until her my mouth is hovering over her core.

  “Tell me,” I say, looking up at her beautiful face and the way the water beads on her skin.

  “Carter, please!” she whimpers, pressing her pussy closer to my mouth.

  “Tell me, Fern,” I growl, and her eyes close and her head tilts back.

  “I’m beautiful,” she says so softly I barely hear it over the fall of water in the shower.

  “Look at me and say it, Fern,” I demand, giving her one sweep of my tongue.

  “Oh, God, Carter,” she moans as her legs begin to shake.

  “Tell me now.”

  “I’m beautiful,” she cries out, and I lick her again, over and over, pulling and biting her clit until she’s standing on her tiptoes, trying to get away from my mouth.

  Screaming out at the top of her lungs, her juices flood my mouth and down my throat while her nails dig into the skin of my shoulders. Kissing her belly, I stand up and thrust my tongue into her mouth, letting her taste herself.

  Feeling her hand wrap around me, I’m momentarily stunned then pull from her grasp, causing her eyes to fill with hurt.

  “No.” I shake my head. “I’m filling your womb the first time I fuck you, Fern.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. Now get your sexy ass out of the shower and get dressed. The sooner we get the shit done with my friend, the sooner I can be inside you.”

  She nods, and I watch her scurry out of the shower.

  Turning the shower on cold, I let the ice water cool me down enough that I don’t go into the bedroom, throw her on the bed, and take her, when I know I won’t have enough time to enjoy her like I want to.

  Getting out of the shower, I catch a glimpse of my reflection. My body is tan and honed from years of swimming and outdoor sports. I need a haircut, but I love the way Fern uses my longer hair to anchor me to her, so I doubt I will have it cut. My face is classical, or that’s what a few women have said. Running my hand over my jaw, I feel the stubble coming in. I should shave, but I like the idea of my mark on Fern any way I can get it. Moving out of the bathroom while wrapping a towel around my waist, I see Fern is already dressed, wearing the same dress we picked up for her to wear to her grandfather’s funeral.

  “It’s either this or my school uniform,” she says, holding her hands out to her sides before lowering them.

  “We’ll stop and get your stuff from your grandmother’s,” I assure her, dropping a kiss to her mouth as I pass her on the way to the dresser, where I grab a pair of boxers and pull them on.

  “I’m going to wear my flats, if that’s okay,” she says, slipping her feet into a pair of black leather flats that make me tower over her even more.

  “Wear whatever you like,” I say lightly, pulling on my jeans while wondering how much her grandmother monitored her clothing choices before. I don’t think Fern had much of a say in anything, and as fucked up as it is, that makes me want to re-kill her granddad. He should have done a better job of protecting her against her grandmother.

  Walking past me, she stops suddenly and places a kiss on my bare chest before moving toward the bathroom. I don’t even know if she realizes it, but with each of those small moments, she’s sealed her fate to mine. I will never let her go.

  Chapter 7

  Carter

  “I don’t want your money!” Fern yells, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at me.

  “It’s your money now, baby, so there is no reason for us to fight about it.” I shrug, starting my Bugatti.

  “You can’t just give someone that kind of money, Carter. Are you crazy?” She groans, leaning her head back against the headrest of the car seat, making me smile.

  I’m starting to see my little mouse occasionally turns into a roaring lion.

  “Why are you smiling? What about you giving me fifteen million dollars sounds funny to you?”

  “It’s already done. Now, are you ready to go get your stuff from your grandmother’s?” I ask her.

  “Fine,” she growls, crossing her arms over her chest, knowing she can’t win.

  “You know why I did it, don’t you?” I ask her softly, picking up her small hand and intertwining her fingers with mine.

  “No.”

  “Now it’s just me and you. There is no money hanging over your head, making you feel guilty. You can do what you like.” I lift her hand, kissing it. “Except leaving me—that you cannot do.”

  “But I could. There were no stipulations,” she whispers, sounding like there are tears in her voice.

  “There are no stipulations,” I confirm, watching her eyes close.

  “You’re crazy, but thank you,” she says quietly, making it all worth it. And really, that money is nothing but a drop in the bucket. I know in the long run that as long as I have her, I couldn’t care less about the money.

  “Now, let’s get your stuff and then go out to dinner. What do you say?” I ask, watching her smile.

  “I’d like that,” she replies, leaning over and kissing my cheek.

  Pulling away from the curb, we head across town to one of the wealthy neighborhoods. There was a time I thought about buying one of the houses over on this side of the city, but at the time, it was just me and I wasn’t planning on having a family. Now that I have Fern, I might reconsider moving. I want any kids that we have to have their own bedrooms, and a backyard.

  Pulling down the block ten minutes later, my anger is back tenfold when I see all of Fern’s belongings are outside on the sidewalk in front of her grandmother’s house, covered in paint and garbage.

  “Oh no,” she whispers, covering her mouth. “No, please stop!” she cries when she sees I’m going to speed up and drive by.

  “Baby, it’s all ruined,” I point out to her. “We’ll get you new stuff.”

  “I have to see if my jewelry box is there,” she sobs, fumbling with the handle of the door and swinging it open before I have a chance to put the car in park.

  Following her out of the car, I ask her softly, “What does it look like?”

  “It’s pink and has a ballerina on the top of it,” she says, digging frantically under stuff until she comes up with the small box. “It’s here,” she whispers, opening the top and pulling out a necklace from the confines before dropping the box back into the pile of garbage.

  “What is it?” I ask her, seeing the sadness in her eyes as she grasps a chain in her hand.

  “It was my mom’s,” she says, holding it up and placing it around her neck.

  “Did she leave it for you?” I ask while leading her back to the car and helping her in.

  “No, I found it in Granddad’s desk drawer at his office, along with her picture.” She smiles a sad smile.

  Buckling her in, I kiss her lips, whispering, “I’m sorry, baby.”

  “It’s okay. I don’t remember her, and every time I would ask about her, Grandma would act like she never existed, but this necklace is the one thing that proves she was around at one time. In the picture, she was wearing it and holding Granddad’s hand.” She smiles, placing her hand on my cheek. “I think my grandpa loved her.”

  “I bet he did,” I agree, still pissed at the old man for not protecting his granddaughter and daughter, from what it sounds like.

  Placing one last kiss on her cheek, I walk around the car and slide in behind the wheel. “We’re going to go out to dinner another night, baby. We need to get you some clothes,” I tell her, watching her face scrunch up.

  “I hate shopping.”

  “Really? Don’t most women love it?”

  “I guess, but I used to have to follow Grandma around for hours while she shopped, and I hated it,” she confides.

  “Didn’t you
get stuff for yourself?”

  “Sometimes, but I still hate shopping. If I buy stuff, I just order it online.”

  “Well, let’s get you some stuff to hold you over, and then you can just order the rest and have it delivered,” I suggest.

  “That works for me.”

  “Where to?” I ask, and she shrugs then answers, “Old Navy.”

  “You’re not shopping at Old Navy.” I shake my head in disbelief.

  “Okay,” she says, and I hear it in her tone and know right away that’s what has always been done to her; her opinions or wants are always ignored.

  “Old Navy it is,” I mutter, watching as her face lights up while I mutter, “Fuck,” under my breath.

  Four hours later, I’m happy as fuck to shove the rest of Fern’s clothes into the trunk of the car, which is now overflowing with shopping bags, most from Old Navy. But three large black ones have made the trip worth it, because I picked out the shit in them and can’t wait to see how my Fern looks covered with lace and silk.

  Speeding through downtown, I make the trip in half the time and leave my car with the doorman, giving him instructions to leave the stuff outside the penthouse door when he brings it up. Then I pick up Fern, who squeaks as I carry her inside, through the doors, and straight into the elevator, which is thankfully empty.

  Once the door closes, blocking us from view, I lift her in my arms until her legs wrap around my hips then hold her to the wall, pulling her dress up around her waist. Growling when I see she doesn’t have any panties on, I dip my face closer to her and order, “You’re never to leave the house without panties, baby, unless you want me to beat your ass until it’s red and you can’t walk for a week.”

  “I won’t do it again,” she promises, but I see a heat in her eyes that makes me wonder if the idea of me spanking her makes her hot.

  Running two fingers through her folds, I find my answer then hold it up for her to see. “Looks like you want me to spank you,” I tell her, flicking my tongue over my fingers and tasting the sweetest ambrosia I’ve ever had the pleasure of eating.