by Lauren Runow
“Why does she have to be fat?”
“Because, if I’m not taking care of you, you damn well won’t have someone hot doing the job.”
“What, you don’t trust me?” he says as we approach the truck.
“It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s the nurse. Bitches be crazy when they know a rich man needs to be taken care of.”
He lets out a hard laugh, and I can’t hide the smile plastering itself on my face as I open the Jeep’s door.
“Buckle up, sweetheart,” Austin says as he reaches for his own seat belt.
I crank the engine and put it in gear, gliding out of the parking spot with ease. We pull up to exit the hospital parking lot, getting ready to drive onto the busy San Francisco street.
I glance in his direction, and he’s sitting back, giving a nonchalant whistle, making it hard for me not to laugh.
An opening in traffic comes, and I press the gas, taking my chance, only to squeal the tires, sliding the Jeep from side to side before it grips and propels forward.
A yelp escapes my lips as I grip the steering wheel harder, taking a deep breath in once I have control of the car and am able to drive down the street with ease.
Narrowing my eyes, I chance a look at Austin, who’s grinning from ear to ear.
Leaning over, he kisses me on the cheek, and with a devilish grin, he declares, “I win.”
Epilogue
JALYNN
“Miss Smith, your presence is requested on the roof in twenty minutes,” Austin says after I answer the office line. He’s been dying to get me up there for some outdoor fun ever since he came back to work a week ago. I keep telling him no, but he hasn’t stopped trying.
“I’m busy, Austin. You know, with your brother, the workaholic…”
“Don’t lie. I know he already left for the day. He just called me, saying so.”
I let out a hard laugh. “That doesn’t mean my work has stopped. I still have his long list of things to complete and I’d like to leave here while it’s still light out.”
“Give me fifteen minutes, and I’ll have Stefanie help you.”
“You know you won’t be finished in fifteen minutes.”
Now, it’s his turn to laugh. “So, you’re saying there’s a chance?” he sings into the line. “You’re definitely meeting me now. I’ll make a scene in the office again.”
I drop my head to my chest, knowing he means it. He had ten dozen roses delivered to my desk my first day back after his accident. On his first day back, he hired a barbershop quartet to serenade me merely for the joy of watching me squirm with embarrassment. Any person who had questioned our relationship didn’t after that day.
“Fine. Fifteen minutes.” I hang up and push my chair away from my desk.
When I turn the corner leading to the stairwell, I see Austin standing against the door with a shit-eating grin on his face. No matter how many times I’ve seen him, my heart still thumps like this is my first. I wonder if he’ll ever stop affecting me this way.
Just as I reach him, a little boy with curly red hair and a Superman t-shirt runs by us. I’ve never seen a child at Sexton Media so I turn to Austin to question, “Do we know who he’s with?”
Austin shrugs, like it’s not a big deal that a five-year-old boy is running through the halls of a media conglomerate. “I think I heard that Rosie’s son was getting dropped off. Her office is right over there. Come on. I only have fourteen minutes left.”
He leans in, kissing my neck, sending shivers down my spine, before pulling my hand through the doorway and up the stairs.
After we climb the ladder, Austin leaves the roof latch propped open, and we head toward the lounge area.
I barely make it halfway there when his arms wrap around me, pulling my back to his front, before he spins me around and places his lips to mine. My head leans back as his hands press the small of my back forward.
Placing my fingers on his chest, I push him away. “I told you, not here.” I laugh and turn toward the sofas, only to see a table dressed in white silk set with dinner for two. There are battery operated candles scattered about and an electric candelabra sitting in the middle of the table alongside a floral centerpiece and a bottle of wine. I cover my mouth in surprise as I glance back at him.
“How about dinner instead?” he asks, stepping up so that his body is covering mine.
“How in the world did you get all of this up here?”
“Didn’t we already have this conversation?” He questions. “I’m a Sexton, remember?”
I shake my head. “I can’t. Bryce asked me to—”
He silences me with a kiss. A deep, passionate, toe-curling kiss. “I called him to ask if I can romance my girl.”
I lift a brow. “And he said okay?”
Austin’s lips trace tiny kisses along my cheek, my jaw and settling on my neck. “I think you were right. Maybe he is a romantic.”
He escorts me to the table and my mouth waters as the aroma of American Wagyu steak and garlic mashed potatoes fill my senses. When I take my seat, Austin dramatically lifts the napkin in the air before laying it in my lap. “For you, madam,” he says in a fancy voice.
I chuckle to myself before picking up my fork as Austin pours some wine. “What’s the occasion?” I ask before taking a bite.
“One, we don’t need an occasion to be up here or to have dinner together. And two, it’s Friday. Why wouldn’t we have dinner delivered by helicopter to celebrate the weekend?”
“As only a Sexton would say.” I shake my head.
“And as you’ll say one day, too.”
I roll my eyes. I don’t care how rich I might be if I stay with Austin; I would never even think of having my food brought in by helicopter. The idea of marrying him someday has definitely been crossing my mind lately though.
We’re halfway into our meal when Austin’s phone rings, and he reaches for it from his coat pocket. When his eyes meet mine in irritation, he sighs. “It’s Bryce.”
“Why do you always act that way when he calls?”
“Because he’s constantly riding my ass.”
“He’s not that bad of a guy. You two just need to get over whatever tiff you have going on and move on as brothers. I thought you squashed everything after the hospital?”
“So did I. He gave me a few days to recover and then started right back again.”
“Just answer. I’m sure it’s fine.”
He swipes his phone, holding it up to his ear. “What can I do for you, sweetheart?”
I wait, and Austin’s eyebrows pinch together.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down. What boy?” His voice is shouting, making me instantly wonder what’s going on.
I can hear Bryce’s frantic voice on the other end but can’t make out what he’s saying.
“Wait, yes, we did see a little boy. He ran by us in the hall about ten minutes ago,” Austin says to Bryce.
“What’s going on?” I whisper, leaning into Austin.
“He’s what?” Austin asks into the phone, shaking his head. “Who is this kid?”
Austin falls back into his chair. It looks like he’s trying to hold back a laugh and look concerned at the same time, leaving me even more confused.
I put my hand on his, and he takes the napkin off his lap, placing it on the table.
“Don’t worry; we’ll come help you look. He couldn’t have gone far.” He hangs up the phone, finally turning his attention back to me. “You’re never going to believe this …”
Bryce Sexton has a hardened exterior, but beneath the surface is a true romantic. While Austin and Jalynn were falling in love, Bryce was busy getting the girl of his dreams to date him, only to find out she comes as a packaged deal.
Here’s a sneak peek into Bryce’s book that’s available now on all platforms!
Chapter 1
BRYCE
I rub a thumb along my temple and look out the window of the black SUV. The way the modern architecture mixes in
with the original buildings from when San Francisco first came to life used to amaze me. Now, I look at it as no more than my worst nightmare caving in on me day by day.
The fog is heavy in this part of town, creating an eerie scene over the city. That heaviness is like the weight on my shoulders I carry every day at Sexton Media.
As the oldest son of the late newspaper and magazine magnate, Marina Sexton, I have the responsibility of keeping her memory alive by running the print division, which includes the critically acclaimed San Francisco Standard, Los Angeles Chronicle, Chicago Sentinel, and thirteen local papers around the country. It should be the job of my father, but he’s too busy bagging his new wife and former beauty queen, Missy.
I loosen my top button as I lift my phone to call my brother, Austin. His phone rings and then goes directly to voicemail. I hit redial. I know the prick’s tricks; he’ll dodge my call for as long as possible.
When I get his voicemail again, I don’t hang up. “Call me back, or don’t even bother coming into the office tomorrow.” I toss the phone on the seat next to me, grunting in frustration.
I just left a meeting regarding our acquisition of the Seattle Gazette, and he didn’t even have the decency to show up.
Sometimes, I wonder about that fucking guy. It’s been eight years since we were granted our mother’s shares in the company. Eight years since he started skirting away from his responsibilities—finishing college at one of the top party schools and then enlisting in the Marines to play action hero. Now, he has to start taking the reins. Playing babysitter to his party-boy, fast-car-driving, whiskey-slugging antics is getting old.
Our baby brother, Tanner, on the other hand, is the most responsible of the three of us. He’s wrapping up his last semester at Columbia University. Once he graduates, he’ll be in the office, next to me, running our advertising division. The kid is a brilliant artist, and he gets the Snapchats and WhatsApps or whatever it is the kids are into these days.
While Austin tries to evade work as much as possible, Tanner lives and breathes the industry, choosing to study marketing and advertising with a minor in psychology, so he can create a new plan of promotional attack. I copy both brothers on all the financials because I know he’s prepping for the day when he can take his power position. Austin probably sends it directly to Trash.
I wish I knew how to get into Austin’s head. I just don’t get him. Everyone acts like I want to spend ninety hours a week chained to my desk. They think I enjoy sleepless nights, worrying about how my mother’s legacy will remain despite the failings of my father. People believe I have a heart of stone and don’t desire happiness, a family … love.
Maybe they’re right.
“Sir,” Brantley says. I look up at the back of his black driver’s cap. “I know you are the master of your schedule, but you have the gala at the museum tonight. I trust you don’t want to be late.”
“Christ,” I spit and look down at my Rolex. I have an hour to drop these documents off and change into my tuxedo. I wanted to start working on the contract so my team of attorneys can iron out the details first thing in the morning. That will have to wait.
Brantley pulls the SUV up to the steel-and-glass skyscraper that houses our company, and I’m out the door before he has a chance to open his.
I meet the tired eyes of my trusted driver and friend. “Wait outside. I’ll be quick.”
The last thing I want to do tonight is attend a gala at the Museum of Modern Art where my stepmother is receiving an award she doesn’t deserve, but rocking the family boat right now is out of the question.
The security guard nods as I pass through the lobby and straight to the elevator.
The ride to the twenty-second floor is always the longest part of my day. The portion of time that stands still for thirty-three seconds.
In thirty-three seconds, I can lose out on a major advertiser, miss the next headline, be swept out of a deal, or be unavailable for an important call.
In thirty-three seconds, I can be on the phone with the press secretary of the United States, send out several emails, and sign off on contracts that decide the fate of the fifteen hundred employees who work under our umbrella.
In thirty-three seconds, my entire family can fuck up something I have worked tirelessly for.
The door opens, and I’m headed down the hallway. The beauty about having my office on the floor of the newsroom is there are always people here working the story through the night. Editors are pressed on deadlines, fact-checkers cite their sources, and copy editors are dotting the i’s. The buzz in the air is giving me a little lift as I pass down the long hallway to my corner office overlooking the San Francisco Bay.
My assistant, Christine’s, computer is on, but her desk is vacant with her chair draped in an Anaheim Ducks jersey. Hockey isn’t my thing but I put up with her paraphernalia because a good assistant is hard to find. She’s my third assistant is eighteen months, and I’m not about to lose her over the Scott Niedermayer bobblehead that’s perched on her filing cabinet.
Well, I might not lose her over a figurine, but when I open my office door, I find I might just have a different situation on my hands.
Sitting on the glass-top desk in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows looking over the Bay Bridge, wearing nothing but a black lace bra and a matching set of panties, is Christine … my assistant.
“Hello, Mr. Sexton,” she drawls as she uncrosses her legs, only to cross them again in a motion to show off the crotchless nature of her panties.
“Christine—”
“You might want to close the door,” she says.
Despite my better judgment, I do so. The last thing I want anyone in the office to see is my assistant sprawled, half-naked, on my desk. I can just picture the headline: Media King Dalliances After Dark.
“What are you doing?” My tone is deep and serious.
She slides off the desk and walks toward me. Her eyes undress me with each sultry step. “Olive skin and the body of a Greek god. I love the way you look in this suit. What I’d like to see more than you in this suit is you out of it.”
I can’t help the way my eyes travel to the milky curve of her breasts. Her chest bounces as she walks, her nipples threatening to spill out of the lace.
I hold my hands up to stop her approach. “Whatever trouble you have in mind, I’m not into it.”
She saunters closer. Her body brushes up against me, and my cock twitches at the friction. She must feel it because she licks her bottom lip.
“Mr. Sexton, it certainly feels like you’re into it.” She runs a hand up and down my shaft from the outside of my suit, leaving me to momentarily close my eyes and moan. “God, you’re bigger than I dreamed.”
I am a man of great resolve. I know sleeping with my assistant is wrong, but—goddamn it—it feels amazing when she touches me like that. I haven’t been with a woman in months, and it’s taking every ounce of my being to stop her.
“I’m your boss.” I place my hand on hers and remove it from my pants while sidestepping around her and walking straight toward my desk, feverishly looking for her clothes. I scan the desk, the filing cabinet, the bar, credenza, even behind the damn Guiana chestnut tree, but don’t see them anywhere in my office. “Where are your clothes?”
I spin around in time to see her remove her bra and dangle it from her forefinger. Her short blonde hair leaves her décolletage exposed. Her breasts are so full and lush. No matter how hard I try to look away, my mouth salivates.
She runs a finger down her neck and across her chest to slowly circle a nipple. “Powerful, provocative, and a man who knows how to get what he wants. I didn’t take the great and masterful Bryce Sexton to be coy. I thought you were more of a dominant.”
She drops the bra on the floor and stalks over with a shove, pushing me down into my desk chair.
I can’t say this is the first time I’ve been in this predicament. My last assistant quit after we had a one-night stand following the offi
ce Christmas party.
While the event was consensual, we weren’t on consenting terms about what was going to happen the next day. She wanted a relationship. I didn’t.
I look up into Christine’s blue eyes and say what I should have said the last time, “You are an incredibly beautiful woman, but I can’t sleep with my employee.”
She falls to her knees. “Oh, I don’t plan on sleeping with you. I plan on fucking you. With my mouth.”
No matter how this plays out … I’m screwed.
•• Download your copy of BRYCE now! ••
Acknowledgments
In 2015, we started our writing journeys on separate paths, unaware and a bit dazed. Autumn Gantz not only launched our careers but introduced us to one another. Because of her, we became book besties and now writing partners. Thank you Autumn for your guidance, service and, most of all, your friendship. You’ve been with us from the beginning and are forever grateful.
A special thank you to Wilmari Delgado for being the developmental beta for Austin. Your insight into plot and suggestions were spot on. Because of you, Austin and Jalynn’s story is explosive!
Thank you to Jovana Shirley of Unforeseen Editing for your impeccable copy edit.
Shout out to our beta readers Stacey Spence, Cole Robitaille, Giovanna Bovenzi Cruz, Laurie Breitsprecher, Lyndsay Carlock and Grey Ditto.
As always, love to our fellow authors, bloggers, readers and fans.
And finally, to our husbands, Bryan and Chris, the suit and the racer! You’re the inspiration for the Sexton brothers.
Bryce
Bryce: A Sexton Brothers Novel
