by Vanessa Vale
Ah, when he showed up at my office this morning.
“Why?” I started walking toward the house, leaving the guys to their fun. I’d lost interest.
“Wanted to meet them.”
“Again, why?”
“Because they’re the people you care about.”
I pushed through the mudroom door, bent down to work off my rain boots.
“What did you do to get Macon to change his mind about East’s school?” he wondered, and I caught him eyeing my ass.
I popped upright at his surprise question, the room spun. Jed took my arm. I was barefoot now, and our height difference was much more noticeable. I only came up to his shoulder.
There was no way I was going to tell him about the Texas oilman.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Eddie pushed through the dog door, went to his beloved bed in the corner, circled three times, then flopped down.
“Yeah, you do. In your office earlier, you thought I’d made a deal with your daddy, your pussy sweetening the deal. No one makes up shit like that.” He hadn’t let go of his hold, his thumb stroking over my bare skin. “Your brothers got out of here. You didn’t. Why’s that?”
“Someone had to take over the business,” I snapped. He was pissing me off. Getting too close to the truth.
He slowly shook his head.
“Try again.”
Not happening. Instead, I said, “Look, this isn’t going to work.”
“What isn’t?” he asked.
I heard the boom of the shotgun, meaning my brothers were far away and occupied. Still, I didn’t want any of them to be a part of this.
I stormed out of the room, cut into the salon where the bar cart was beside the grand piano my grandfather had bought my grandmother and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. The household staff not only kept the house immaculate, but fully stocked of anything Macon or I could ever want.
Right now, I wanted to get completely drunk. Forget my brothers were here. While I loved them dearly, seeing them reminded me that they would leave after dinner and go back to their lives. Real lives. Happy ones, full of dreams fulfilled. Rainbows and unicorns and all that. Forget that Jed had offered something that seemed full of promise but was just another deal.
Which only prompted me to my life. The shit show that it was.
I could take my life back now that Macon was dead, but the weight of the past was hard to lose. I felt… scarred.
“Our deal. I’ve made enough of them just like this. The only one who gets fucked is me.”
“Literally or figuratively?”
I cut through the house, aimed for the back steps off the kitchen, then realized the last place I wanted to be with Jed was my bedroom, so I slipped into where I knew was going to be somewhat soundproofed for our argument.
“What the fuck is this?” Jed asked, following me, looking around.
“The telephone room,” I replied. It was a tiny space beneath the back stairs meant for one. “My great-grandfather built this place. Back in his day, it was added when he got a telephone. It was the only one in the house, so it was a space for privacy.”
Jed reached his arms out and easily touched two of the walls. There was a small nook in the wall where the phone went and a corner bench seat. The walls were painted a deep burgundy and the single brass light fixture made the space oddly cozy instead of claustrophobic.
It was Jed though, that made it feel that way. He took up most of the space. Reaching back, he grabbed the door and pulled it shut behind us.
The shotgun went off again, but I barely heard it this time.
Maybe coming in here was a stupid choice. The only exit was behind him.
“What did Macon do to you?”
“Get out, Jed,” I said on a sigh. I’d been up since five to exercise. In the office by seven-thirty. I’d left early today because of dinner with my brothers, but I wouldn’t have gotten home until close to nine. Normally.
Work filled my time. My thoughts. It kept me moving and moving was good, because if I slowed down, I thought. If I thought, I turned into this. A barely drunk thirty-year-old with no life. Hardly any friends. Nothing but… fuck me. Unhappiness.
The last thing I wanted to do was talk about Macon.
“No.”
I stared at his lips as he uttered that one word. The scent of him filled the room. Pheromones and clean male. Laundry soap.
“There’s not enough room for both of us.”
“Then why did you come in here? It’s not like you could hide from me.”
I closed my eyes. Sighed. Felt the liquor bottle pulled from my fingers.
“What did Macon do to you?” he asked again.
“Do?”
“Did he hit you? Is that how he controlled you?” Fury filled his gaze as he raked it over me, looking for signs of Macon’s anger on my body.
“He never touched me,” I admitted.
“What other deals have you made with Macon? Other people? Who… who—” When he couldn’t finish his question, I looked up at him. Leaned back at his intensity. Anger was pumping off him in waves. His jaw was clenched, his eyes fierce. Every line of his body was taut as if exposed to a live wire. “Who did he make you fuck?”
No one had ever, ever, asked me that. How he even got to that question made me realize he could see all too much.
“What do you mean?”
“You accused me of it at the wake.”
My throat clogged up with tears, but I willed them away. I didn’t cry. It was weakness that could be used against me. Even with Jed. Emotions were powerful weapons.
I raised a hand between us, set it on his chest. I could feel the steady thump of his heart beneath my palm. “Stop.”
He ran his fingers over his beard. “Stop? Are you serious? Your father… Jesus, he used you.”
“I never said that,” I countered.
“You didn’t have to. It’s obvious to me. While you might have a pretty good poker face, you can’t hide from me.”
I shrugged, tipped up my chin and gave him a practiced smile. Hiding everything.
He waited, then ripped off his hat and set it in the nook where the phone used to be. He set the whiskey bottle on the bench seat. “Now I know why you’re the ice princess.”
The smile slipped. Barely. Then he grabbed my upper arms.
“He’s put you through hell, hasn’t he? You hide to protect yourself, but I see you.”
I widened my eyes in surprise, not that he was dangerous, but that this close, I saw how pissed he was. The fire in his eyes. I could feel it. It was for me.
He’d asked me to trust him. I couldn’t. He’d also offered his touch and I craved that. Not just the orgasms he gave me, but the connection. Needed someone right now. I was tired of being alone.
“Come on, princess. Melt for me.”
Melt for him.
Yes. I took what I wanted in this moment. I could take what he offered, but on my terms. I pushed up on my tiptoes and kissed him. Hooked my hand around his neck. For a second, he didn’t move, didn’t respond, and then he was kissing me back. Rough. Wild. Our mouths opened, tongues tangled. I felt the soft rasp of his beard. Heads tilted to get even closer. His arms went around my back and lifted me up. My legs went around his waist, forcing the hem of my dress to slide up my thighs.
He took one step and pressed me into the wall.
His hands ran over me, cupping my breast, sliding down my hip, along my thigh. My dress went up and I felt it all. I’d never been so hot for someone before. So… desperate.
The escorts I fucked were skilled, knew exactly what they were doing. While I couldn’t say they’d faked it—their hard dicks couldn’t lie—it was only arousal. The need to orgasm that drove them. Also, the money.
They’d learned I couldn’t come with them. Took it as perhaps a female defect and let it go. They hadn’t understood like Jed had because their fragile egos wouldn’t have been able to handle it. Jed h
ad handled it. Didn’t think it was a big deal. Didn’t think I was broken. Maybe wired differently, but he’d gotten me there just the same. Let me help.
I wanted more of it. This? With Jed? It was lust. Passion. Need. It was hot and intense and crazy.
Stupid, probably. He’d said he’d showed up at the wake to pay his respects. As an employee of John Marshall. But had he told the truth when he said he saw me and wanted me? The probing questions he’d been asking made me think so.
The thick prod of his dick against my belly made it seem legit too, but was that all he wanted? Could I have been safe from everyone else, and then the one person who fed me lines I wanted to hear was getting past all my walls?
All I knew was that I wanted him. I loved how he made me feel. How… pretty I felt when he looked at me. How safe. Protected. How hot.
Yeah, I wanted this. The connection. The release. If there were consequences, I’d expect them and deal with them later.
“That’s right, you’ll melt for me,” he practically growled when he cupped me, discovering that I was still bare since I gave him my panties at my office.
“This is just another business deal,” I panted, loving the feel of his beard against my skin.
He reared back, his hand stilled. His chest heaved as if he’d run a marathon and his hair was tousled. His lips were slick and red. Yet his fingers slid over my folds, gently, spreading my wetness around. He was petting me, caressing, watching. Working me up.
“No business deal, princess. I said I’d get you to trust me. I’m not here to fuck you over. I don’t have an agenda. This is different.”
He rolled his hips and his dick rocked against my clit. I whimpered.
“I saw you. That was it.”
“Love at first sight?” I asked with a huff of a laugh because it was totally unbelievable.
He shrugged one broad shoulder. “Something like that. This isn’t business. No Marshall. No Macon. It’s very, very personal. Just between you and me. No one else.”
My eyes fell closed because his touch felt so good.
His lips brushed over mine and I sank into it. He licked into me, claimed my mouth as he slid a finger into me. My back arched as he slowly fucked me with it, then added another.
I was writhing my hips, eager for more. My fingers clung to his shoulders.
“Jed!” I cried. I was so worked up, I was lost to him. His fingers rubbed over a spot and it was like a magic button. I groaned.
“There, huh?”
I didn’t reply because it was so good. I wasn’t going to come, but I was closer than I ever had been with anyone else. And it was only his fingers.
He stilled, slipped them from me. When I blinked my lids open, he was hovering over me. So close. “It’s you and me. For once, trust.”
I nodded because I could only feel. Then he licked his fingers.
The action, knowing he was tasting me, that I was so wet that it was all over him, was dirty. That he saw me this way, sexual. Perhaps passionate. Desirable.
I reached between us, worked on his belt. Since my thighs were clamped around his waist, he was able to use both hands, grab a condom from his pocket then push his jeans down. I heard the sound of foil, then the bump of Jed’s hands as he slid on protection, then set himself right at my entrance. My pussy clenched in anticipation.
His eyes met mine. Held.
“Do it,” I said, then my breath was cut off as he thrust up hard, filling me in one stroke.
“Fuck,” he growled, his head settling at my neck.
A hand went to my ass and squeezed as my body rippled and stretched to accommodate him. I hadn’t seen how big he was, but I felt it.
The tiny room was warm. Sweat dotted my skin. My dress was bunched and probably wrinkled. And I was aching and throbbing with need.
He rolled his hips, pulled back and thrust. Again and again.
We didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to. I clung and grabbed, rolled my hips and bowed my back. Got worked and fucked and filled.
“North.”
I blinked my eyes open at my name. His face was right there, his gaze heavy lidded and dark. Wild and untamed.
He took one of my hands from his hair and brought it between us, set his fingers over mine on my clit. “Show me how.”
I stared at him, confused, then he moved his fingers, moving mine. He wanted me to come. Knew this was how to do it.
I took over, adjusting my fingers in the flat way I liked, made the usual small circles.
He thrust deep and I moved faster. God, the thick feel of him and having my clit worked. It was…
“Oh,” I whispered.
“Good girl. You’re going to come for me.” He talked as he rocked his hips, slowly fucking me. “You feel so good. Fuck, so tight. So wet.”
Then he got filthier. Both hands cupped my bare ass, but a finger slipped between and over my back entrance and—
I clamped down on his dick and came. “Holy shit!” I cried, my fingers still strumming my clit as a fingertip brushed over me there.
White lights danced behind my closed eyelids. My fingers tingled, my body was wracked with the most amazing pleasure. Being filled so deep, my clit being stimulated was amazing, but it was that extra touch I had no idea would feel so good.
Sharp and bright. Hot and intense.
“Fuck, you’re strangling my dick.” Jed had been holding back but no longer, fucking me through my orgasm with uncontrolled thrusts. He growled, then held himself deep, his mouth sucking at my neck as he pulsed inside of me.
The telephone room was like a little sauna. All I could hear was our ragged breathing. I hadn’t noticed any more shots fired, although if the house blew up, I probably wouldn’t have known.
Because in this little nook beneath the stairs, the world slipped away. Nothing existed but me and Jed. Of how he made me feel.
There was no North, the CEO. No North, Macon’s daughter. No North, the older sister. I was just… princess.
For once in my life, I was okay with that. Because I’d done the one thing I never thought I could do. Let down my guard. Let someone in. Trust. And it felt so, so good.
But it never lasted. I had to wonder how it was going to blow up in my face, because eventually everything good did.
7
JED
* * *
North was in the shower. Her dog had been laying outside the telephone room door while I’d taken her. He’d followed her upstairs. I wanted to join her, but we’d never get out. I’d take her there, press her up against the tile, or if it had a bench seat bend her over it. Fuck yes. Then I’d carry her to her bed, or nearest horizontal surface, and take her again.
That was why I was in the kitchen trying to figure out food while imagining her naked and wet, soap suds sliding over her perfect tits and toned thighs.
I was hard. It had been ten minutes since I’d had the hardest, most intense orgasm of my life. It hadn’t scratched the itch. Hell, it made it ten times worse. I didn’t think she was ready for more. Not yet. Physically, sure. Her pussy was wet and aching for sex, but mentally? She might be the most poised and focused person I’ve ever met, but she was also ridiculously vulnerable. Yeah, I saw it, even when she didn’t want me to.
Getting her to trust me when she didn’t trust anyone…
I needed patience. And so did my dick.
My cell vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out, read the display. My boss. I had to answer it. I’d put her off.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Any update on the order?” she asked. I envisioned her in her office overlooking the thick Virginia forest that surrounded Quantico.
“I met with the supplier this morning, but the paperwork was missing. I’ll check back later.”
“Jed—”
“She didn’t do it,” I said, ensuring my boss knew how I felt, that North was innocent. “We’re looking at the wrong supplier.”
“You have proof?”
“No.” I c
ouldn’t tell her what we’d just done, that my case was compromised because I was falling for the suspect. She might not even care because I was the only one who could lead this case. Anyone else would stick out like a nun in a whorehouse. They were all city slickers.
“Then you know what to do.”
I wasn’t going to tell her I was with North now, in her house. That I’d had the best sex of my life in a vintage telephone room. My job was to find out about the deal and that was the update. I hung up and tucked my cell away. While the house was huge, I wouldn’t risk being overheard. But she wouldn’t be put off for long. It only made me realize how fucked up this situation was. I was hard. Even after coming so hard I’d gone blind for a few seconds, my dick hadn’t gone down.
I opened the huge fridge and stared inside, hoping the cool air would help. Then I remembered how she tasted, like whiskey and sin. Remembered the clamp of her pussy when she came. The…
“The cook leaves a note.”
I stuck my head around the open door at the voice.
South. He scanned the huge marble topped island, then pointed to a piece of paper propped against a vase of fresh flowers. “There. North doesn’t cook and Macon sure as shit didn’t. The guy’s here every day prepping meals and having it ready to go whenever they get home from the office.”
I was closer, so I grabbed it.
“Chicken enchiladas in the warming drawer,” I read. “Guacamole and sour cream in the fridge.”
Fuck, that sounded good. Unlike the Wainrights, I could cook, although my ranch kitchen was nothing like this one. A bachelor would starve without some talent with a knife and a frying pan, but I had a feeling this meal was going to be epic because Macon would have fired anyone whose food was bad.
“Want a beer?” he asked.
If he had any issues with me fucking his sister beneath the back stairs, he didn’t let on. Then again, he and his brothers had been busy outside shooting up shit and I figured he had no idea. I doubted he’d offer me a beer if he had.
“Sure.”
Leaning against the counter, I watched as he went around the island, bent down and opened a door. He pulled out a beer, then another from what I assumed was a small wine fridge.
