My ego sings, knowing that I might still qualify for that title.
“And then things got weird. She wanted to know about your dating history, if you were ever in love, engaged. I tried to steer the conversation to Macy, but she acted like that was old news. She was far more interested in your past than your present or your future. You want to know whose secretary she is?” A beat goes by. “Carson’s. It was all just a little too weird for me. When she started getting into your high school years, I told her I had an audition and took off.” She hops off my desk. “By the way, I’m bombing at everything I try out for.” Kinsley irons out the back of her skirt with her hands. “So? What’s going on? You’re not saying anything.”
“I’m thinking.” My fingertips conjoin as I try to register what might be happening. “Maybe it was Macy. She’s been asking questions, and I’ve been evading her. I should just tell her.” I wanted to on our trip, but I didn’t want the ghost of the past slipping between us. It was so good. I didn’t want to ruin it.
“Wow, you think she’d hit up some girl she doesn’t even hang out with and asked her to pump me for info on your ex? That’s a little creepy. Stalkerish even. Anyway.” She hits the door and lets herself out. “I don’t think it was Macy.”
The door shuts just shy of closing, letting in a slice of light and noise from the fornication factory outside my office.
She doesn’t think it was Macy. Who else would be digging for info on Jackie? And why?
My gut knots up.
I open my laptop once again, and Luke’s shit-eating grin greets me, but before I can continue to pry into my supposed brother’s life, my phone lights up.
It’s a text from my father. Big blow to Merlin. Meeting in the AM.
My stomach sours just staring at the words. My father is not one to exaggerate—not one to tell you one thing and mean another. And he is the last to incite a panic in anyone, including me. I open my news browser, click over to the business section, and see nothing regarding either Merlin or Jinx. If it hasn’t hit the newsfeed yet, it might be something we have time to mop up.
“The prodigal father returneth.” I stare at his text as if it were a viper. Why not tell me today? Why make me wait like the general population?
But neither my father, Merlin, Jinx nor Luke Van Der Wolff is able to keep my mind from drifting to those cunning Cannons. That inquest, the shakedown over my private life that Kinsley had to endure has me boggled. Jackie hasn’t come up in years, and suddenly she’s everywhere. My heart wrenches, knowing it’s eating Macy alive not knowing what happened between Jackie and me. I never thought I’d talk about it. Swore I wouldn’t. That I’d take our deepest secret to the grave with me, just like she did.
I bolt out of my chair and hit the cool air of the hall.
I need some fucking air.
* * *
The elevator vomits me out into the lobby, and I scope out the coffee house, hoping to see Macy’s bright smile waiting to greet me. I should have texted her and asked if I could buy her coffee, but I’m a little too rough around the edges, bristled from the information Kinsley shared. I don’t want her to see me like this, pissed at life, at death, at myself for ignoring how precious the former was and causing the latter.
“Lionheart.” A hand slaps over my shoulder as Carson the Meathead, as Kinsley called him, shuttles me toward the rear of the building. I know what bullshit lies ahead, and I won’t fight it—to a point. “I was just headed into the cinema room.”
“We don’t have a cinema room.”
He shoots a look over his shoulder. “I know. It’s just nicer than referencing it as the surveillance headquarters. Join us.”
By us, I’m assuming he means his brothers—now them I don’t mind seeing while I’m feeling so bristly.
Inside its cushioned walls, the “cinema” room is warm and greedy for information as dozens of monitors lay out the design of the grounds, exposing a plethora of ubiquitous tasks carried out by Jinx employees at any given time.
“What’s going on?” I nod to Ford as I enter the back room, the lair where each of the Cannon brothers looks up from a conjoined monitor.
“You brought us a toy,” Cash muses at his brother.
Ford shakes his head. “We’re just going over shit. Worrying about hackers. Nothing new. What’s going on with you, man?” He takes off his glasses and glares up at me properly. It’s strange seeing the Cannons in this small proximity, their dark matching heads, their flashing cobalt eyes going off like warning bells.
“Carson gave me the invite.” I pull up a chair and spin it around so I’m sitting on it the wrong way, the metal backrest acting as armor in the event they decide to knife me. People think it’s so easy to murder someone and make it look like an accident.
“You’re welcome anytime.” Carter gives me a light sock to the arm. He treats Aspen like a queen, so it’s hard to wring out my dislike for the Cannons on him, Ford either. But the other two I wouldn’t mind wiping my shit-stained shoes all over their Italian silk suits. Speaking of which, Stevie turned Ford on to my tailor, and now the entire lot of them have infiltrated my territory. I realize that imitation is a form of flattery, but in this case it feels more like a fuck you. “What’s going on? Everything running smoothly?” He seems genuine. Carter has never bullshitted me after the incident in which I saved his ass from Henry, Aspen’s psychotic ex. I suppose it’s sort of a thank you.
“You tell me what’s going on.” I look to Cash and then to Carson, the forever resentful of the bunch.
The room quiets down, and suddenly it becomes clear that all four Cannon brothers have a similar agenda. I guess saving asses and gifting them my sisters don’t amount to much in the end when it comes to familial loyalty.
“We know you’re sleeping with Macy.” Cash lowers his chin, glaring at me in a demented way that makes me want to punch him in the balls for no other reason than that stupid look on his face.
“I’m seeing Macy,” I say it amicably, playing the part of the perfect gentleman. “It’s none of your fucking business what we do together.” And there’s a piece of me to go with it. “You can suck my dick if you think I’m going to be intimidated by you. Macy decides who she sees, not any of you cocksuckers, so back the hell off.” I bounce my stare to each of them, making sure the message is loud and clear.
“Jeez, Lincoln.” Carter shakes his head. “We were just going to tell you to be careful. She’s vulnerable. She had a messy breakup.”
“Right before her fucking wedding,” Carson pipes up, flexing at me as if trying to prove a point.
Cash blinks a smile. “You’re the rebound. When it’s time to let her go, do it gently.”
“What are you saying?” My mind reels, trying to envision any version of this life in which I let her go.
Cash leans in. “We’re saying you’re not her type. You caught her off guard. She’s just sorting her feelings out, clearing her head.”
“And what is Macy’s type?” I’m half a breath away from getting the hell out of this interrogation room.
“Someone who knows what commitment is.” Cash comes straight out and says it. “Someone who doesn’t fuck girls for revenge.”
I lunge across and snap him up by his jacket, shaking the shit out of him before Carson and Carter pull me off from behind.
“Let the fuck go.” I push them away. “Don’t you ever accuse me of doing anything with Macy for revenge. That’s not how I operate.”
“Really?” Cash calls after me while Ford holds him back. “I know how you operate, Lionheart. I know much more than you’d ever like me to. You keep fucking with us, and Macy will know it, too.”
A mean shudder drills through me as I step out of the humidity of the surveillance room. Cash’s words ricochet through my mind as I try to piece it together.
Filled with raw vengeance, I head back up to my office. Those fuckers fueled a fire in my belly I thought was beginning to wane.
Worried about hacke
rs. I want to laugh. I’m the biggest hacker of them all. I go ahead and eat through three flimsy layers of partition and burn down that firewall Cash Cannon has sitting around his digital fortress, inviting myself to his emails, easy as stealing candy.
A bunch of bullshit. Work-related crap, some forwards from his stepsisters. One from Macy’s mother, a general inquiry as to her daughter’s well-being. Cash responds by assuring her he won’t let anything bad happen to her. She has nothing to worry about. Oddly, this warms me. I’d like to think Cash is simply the chaste Cannon version of myself as far as Macy is concerned. God know she needs as many people in her corner as possible. An email from GIS catches my eye, and my gut stings as if it just received a solid sucker punch. I’ve used Garret’s Investigative Services before. He is the best. My insides churn, boiling in their own acids. I open it, and an image loads, slowly at first, with a nauseating familiarity that makes me sink back in my seat. There she is. Beautiful, beautiful Jackie.
“Shit.” I slap my hands over the desk, and my laptop jumps. My head spins as if I’ve just caught a buzz. My muscles tense, ready for a fight. “Oh, Macy.” It comes out tired, desperately sad, and angry. “What have you done?”
Galaxy of Deception
Macy
I spoke with Lincoln briefly as I cruised home asking if he wanted to meet up for dinner, and he mentioned something about a shit day. Something about my uncles shaking him down, accusing him of taking advantage of my vulnerabilities. He threw out the word rebound, and I nearly threw up. He said the only thing he wanted was me naked in his bed.
I shower and shave in both delicate and indelicate places before wrapping myself up in his sheets, watching TV with no real interest in what’s on, just waiting for him to come home to find me naked in his bed. I’m more than eager to be in Lincoln’s bed, naked and waiting for him, but the thought of my uncles giving him a tough time makes my stomach turn to battery acid. Had they said anything about Jackie? God, I’m so stupid to have sicced them on that poor girl. I should tell them some crap piece of news about Lincoln and get this over with. Lincoln is innocent, as his blue eyes would have you believe, so there’s no worry that I’m actually ratting him out on anything.
The door trembles, and in comes Lincoln, complete with that moody expression that brings a quiver to my thighs without trying.
“Hey, handsome.” I beckon him over with my fingertips. “I’m so sorry my uncles read you the riot act.”
He takes off his suit jacket and kicks off his shoes before gliding on the bed, landing his brooding handsome face next to my bare thighs. I’ve come to like it when Lincoln looks up at me from between my legs. His sleepy eyes, that nod he gives as if to ask if he’s doing a good job, if it’s enough. There’s a boyishness about him that aims to please. I assume that’s because of his incessant need to please his father and never feeling like enough, always being replaced by strange women, companies, a brother manufactured from thin air. “You’re beautiful.” He kisses the inside of my thigh. “I brought you something.” He pulls up a pink box from the bakery I hadn’t even noticed he was carrying. “I feel bad about dinner.”
“Don’t feel bad.” I ate. As soon as he mentioned he wasn’t in the mood, I ran into Chipotle and had them pile a bowl full of cheesy avocado goodness to the ceiling. I’m not really a soup or salad girl. I’ll take a hearty meal over a cube of tofu any day. I pull off the lid, revealing a dozen shiny glazed donuts. “Wow, donuts for dinner?” I give him a playful kick in the chest, and he grabs me by the ankle and kisses my shin. “These are my favorite. How did you know?”
“Those were the freshest.” His smile cinches up one side. “But I’m glad they’re your favorite.”
I gulp one down to his two, and we set the rest on the nightstand next to that box of condoms that’s been staring at me in judgment ever since we stopped dipping into it.
“I’m ready.” My legs split open at the knees, then close again. It’s true. I’ve coifed and perfumed myself as if this were our very first time. “Just—you know, let me go first, then I’ll be really ready for you.”
He gives a greedy laugh as he pulls me to my knees. “I always let you go first. I’m a gentleman, remember?” It’s true. Lincoln seems to have a staunch woman come first rule that I will never complain about. I’m pretty sure that’s not one of his strengths that I should point out to my uncles.
“But I have something for you that might help in addition to that.” He produces something that looks like a tube of toothpaste, and I snatch it from him. “What is this?”
“It’s a slip and slide for adults. No helmets needed.” His hands curve around my bare bottom, pressing into my flesh just enough to evoke a quick breath from me. I love Lincoln’s honest grasp. The way his body is so greedy for me, he can’t help but be forceful at times. As my fingers work to get his clothes off, our eyes stay connected with a feral need to hang on, to look deep, and to do some soul-searching while I pull off his boxers. There’s something distant about Lincoln tonight, something a little withdrawn. My uncles must have really bruised him. I get that they love me, but when you hurt the one I love, you’re hurting me. Sounds like a cheesy slogan that you’d see on a T-shirt, but it’s true. I’d wear that damn shirt to work every day if I could.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, sinking down over the mattress until I’m forced to look up at him.
He slips off the rest of his clothes and pulls me up face-to-face with him. “I promise I’ll go slow.”
“I know, but I was apologizing for my uncles. Whatever they did to you seems to have pulled you into a funky mood.”
“I’m not in a funky mood.” He takes a bite out of my bottom lip and pulls back laboriously, deliciously slow. “I’m in a fucking mood.” His fingers crest lower on my bottom, the tips dipping into that wet zone that waits for his kisses. “They didn’t get to me. I promise. I’m happy. You’re happy. We need to leave everything else alone,” he says it stern like a warning, and a siren goes off somewhere deep inside me because I’ve done just the opposite.
“Agree.” I’ll call off my uncles’ bloodhounds tomorrow. I don’t need to know a thing about the mythical Jackie. She can live in the past where she belongs, and those glass animals entombed in his drawer are free to go with her. All I know is that Lincoln has his hands on me right now. I’m the one wrapped in his arms.
“I love you,” he whispers right into my lips, and I melt.
I’m the one he’s whispering I love you to.
Lincoln presses his mouth over my body, slow and erotic, as if he were mapping me out, tracing my veins, tasting my skin from my shoulders down to my feet. His mouth works its way back up my thighs, kissing the inside of my knees, and I giggle like a schoolgirl when he does it. I always do—I’d swear that’s exactly why he does it. Lincoln gets to the good part, his mouth working over me with great intensity right from the get- go. He’s shaved a good half hour off my time by perfecting a routine that seems to get me to climax faster. His tongue does an abrupt swivel, aggressive and hostile, as if it were teaching my soft spot a lesson until I buck and break under the duress of this gorgeous man. I explode into a sea of stars all across the room as my muscles work to pull him off me. He rolls on a condom, and my legs shut tight, afraid of the aftereffects, or more to the point, the after burn. He runs his hand over the length of himself once he puts on the slimy second skin, and he’s just as horsey-looking as ever. I give a wry smile at his prized member.
“Go easy, or I’ll have to issue you another eviction notice.” I’m not kidding. I had always envisioned that I would be somewhat of a whore after I lost my virginity, and now I’m somewhat of a whoreish prude.
Lincoln squeezes that tube over his penis in one clear line as the gel slithers to the underbelly like a snake.
“Open up.” He gives a soft tap to my thigh, and I lie back and comply. My legs wrap around his ribcage, hooking onto his sides, still trying to squeeze themselves shut.
“Do you g
et many complaints?” One of my downfalls is babbling like an idiot when I’m nervous or afraid. I happen to be both, so I can’t imagine this will be verbally pretty.
“No, sweetheart, I don’t get complaints.” A dark laugh rumbles from him. “I get fan mail.” He touches the tip of his pride to where his lips were a moment before, and I jump. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.” His hands glide up and down my sides. “Let loose. Try to relax your muscles. That should make this easier.” He peppers my face with airsoft kisses. Lincoln’s even breathing reassures me that he has this all under control.
Slowly, he pushes inside me, and then in a jolt, he’s hit my sternum, and my eyes spring open.
“Shit,” he hisses, pulling out quickly.
“No, it’s okay. Actually, that felt easy. I press into his back, pushing him deep inside me once again.
“I can’t believe that just happened,” he marvels. “Feel free to claw my eyes out if I hurt you.”
I run my fingers through his hair and laugh. “You’d go blind just to keep me comfortable? This is why I love you. You have a heart of gold.”
“Don’t tell anyone. I sort of like coming across like a soulless asshole.”
“It’s a brilliant front.” I grunt a little as he plunges in deep. “Wow, that was easy. Do they sell this stuff by the gallon?”
“I’ll invest in their stock tomorrow.” Lincoln thrusts carefully at first, then with a vigor and intensity we both have needed for so many nights.
Lincoln dives over me in a rhythm that sends the headboard knocking into the wall, and the room shakes with a heartbeat of its own.
His body slicks with sweat as his breathing picks up to marathon worthy levels. My sleepy, lustful eyes do their best to look up at this beautiful man, his expansive, chiseled chest glistening over my face with his every thrust.
Fire in an Amber Sky Page 18
