“I’ll think it over.”
“Okay. I have my code. No going out without me, Bentley—I’m serious.”
“Yep. Got it.” I wasn’t taking chances with Emmy.
I got out of the car and headed inside. Andrew greeted me at the elevator with his usual pleasant expression.
“Good evening, sir.”
“Andrew. How was your day?”
“All is well. May I fix you a drink before I depart?”
“No. Is Miss Harris here?”
“Yes.” He chuckled, his brown eyes crinkling in his round face, and the light gleaming off his bald head. He was a short man, who took his job seriously. He kept my house immaculate, and on occasion, joined me in a game of chess we both enjoyed. He had been with me since I moved in. He had come highly recommended, and I would be lost without him. He came from a much larger household, but due to health issues, hadn’t been able to keep up. My quiet lifestyle worked well for him. Emmy had charmed him in about three seconds flat, and he clearly adored her.
“She insisted on cooking your dinner.”
“Commandeered your kitchen again?”
“She did.” He patted his stomach. “I guarantee you will enjoy it. She made me a plate, as well.”
I chuckled. “Excellent.”
“Also, Mr. Tomlin was here earlier.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Greg? He was here?”
“Yes. He left you something on your desk. He received a call and couldn’t stay.”
“All right. Did he, ah, see Miss Harris?”
“Briefly. He introduced himself as she was heading up the stairs. Was I wrong to let him in your den?”
“No, of course not. I’m sorry I missed him.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “Have a good evening, Andrew.”
I headed to my den, surprised to find a bottle of Courvoisier on my desk, and a note from Greg.
Bentley
I felt I crossed a line with you and Aiden this morning. My apologies.
I had hoped to share a drink with you, but have been called away.
Perhaps next time. Share with Aiden. Enjoy – G.
I stared at his handwriting—bold, dark, firm, just like the man. I frowned. It had been an odd day. Aiden’s sudden outburst, Greg’s apology and unexpected gift, and Emmy’s anger. Not to mention the photograph. I rubbed my temples in vexation. I wanted to stop thinking about it, and relax.
Grabbing the bottle, I headed upstairs.
Emmy was curled into the corner of the sofa in the sunroom, busy working on the laptop. She had changed into one of her comfortable, warm shirts, and a sweater with yoga pants. She liked this room the best. She said it felt like “me” the most out of all the rooms in the house. I wasn’t sure what she meant by that statement, but it was also one of my favorite rooms. Setting down the bottle, I bent over the back of the sofa, dropping a kiss on her head.
“Hey.”
She looked up, tired but smiling. “Hi. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Your head was buried in your work. How goes the project?”
“Good. It’s so much easier with this laptop. I have everything I need right here instead of having to work off memory sticks or wait until I go to school to finish something.”
I sat down across from her. “Good. I’m glad it’s coming in useful.”
“I’m taking good care of it. I’ll return it as soon as I’m done.”
I waved my hand. “I told you not to worry about it. It’s one I bought and didn’t use. I’m glad it was something that helps you.”
She regarded me suspiciously. She still wasn’t convinced by my explanation.
“I hear you met Greg.”
She smirked. “He introduced himself as Mr. Tomlin. He wasn’t exactly Mr. Warmth.”
“No, he isn’t, but he’s good at what he does.”
“You trust him?”
It seemed an odd question, and I shrugged. “He’s never given me any reason not to. He does a good job on my behalf.”
Her eyes dropped back to the laptop. “Good.”
“Did he upset you?”
She glanced up. “No. He was cool, and didn’t seem overly interested. Dismissive, I suppose.” She shivered. “He laughed when I said I was making you dinner. It seemed to amuse him. It was a peculiar sound.”
I nodded in agreement. His laugh was a little strange, as if it were forced and not real.
“He’s different. Don’t worry about him, though. You won’t see him very often. We don’t do the social thing.”
“Okay.”
I sighed. “Are you still angry with me?”
“No.”
Shrugging off my jacket, I leaned back. “So, that’s it? No yelling or silent treatment?”
“Neither.”
“Not that I’m complaining, but can I ask why?”
She shook her head and stood, closing the laptop. Straddling me on the chair, Emmy pulled my tie loose and unbuttoned the collar. She ran her hands along the base of my neck, her touch gentle and soothing. “I don’t think I want to know the kind of women you dated if that’s what you were expecting.”
I gripped her hips, enjoying how she felt on my lap. “You were pretty mad this morning.”
“I was. I said my piece, and it’s done.” She ran her fingers through my hair.
With a long exhale, I leaned into her caress. “That feels good.”
She tugged on the strands. “I like your hair so much better when you leave it natural. It makes you even hotter.”
I chuckled at her statement. She had informed me I was too young for a comb-over and hid the gel I used to keep my hair in order. I had to admit I liked the feel and ease of simply toweling it dry and leaving it alone. It was freeing, and Emmy liked to run her fingers through it, so I left it. She also liked me a bit scruffy, and I had stopped shaving every day to please her. Although, at times, it felt strange.
Aiden and Maddox had nailed me to the wall about becoming a pussy. I had flipped them off and walked away. Emmy’s opinion was more important. Her pleasure came with benefits that resulted in my pleasure—frequently.
She spoke quietly. “I know you worry because of what happened to your parents. I talked it through with Cami, and she convinced me it was a totally romantic gesture.”
A smile tugged at my lips. “I guess I owe Cami.”
I met her gaze. It was soft, concerned, and a little confused. “I’m not used to being worried about.”
“I can’t help it when it comes to you,” I confessed.
“I know. I feel the same about you.”
Our eyes locked, and I sucked in a long breath.
“I have something to tell you.”
She frowned. “That doesn’t sound good.”
I pulled out my phone and showed her the picture Aiden had copied.
“That was this morning!” she exclaimed.
“Yes.”
Her lips pursed. “Well, that isn’t happening again.”
My chest tightened. “Oh?”
She nodded, looking serious. “That pattern makes my ass look huge! I am not wearing that dress again—ever.”
I gaped at her. “Your dress? You’re worried about your dress? Someone was stalking us, Emmy.”
She shrugged. “You, I would say.”
“Still, this involves you and your safety. It’s the second time.”
“I think I’m just in the shot. Looking less than fashionable, I might add.”
I slipped my hands over her ass and squeezed. “For one thing, your ass does not look huge. And second, it’s not the point of the conversation.”
“What is?”
“I wanted you to know what was happening.” I huffed out a heavy sigh. “And to tell you, Aiden is going to assign someone to watch over you.”
“No.”
“Yes. It’s important.”
“It’s not necessary.”
“Then we can chalk it up to me being overprotective, and get rid of them late
r. Do this for me, please. Give me the peace of mind. I need it right now.”
She looked down at the photo and shoved my phone into my chest. “Fine. They had better not interrupt my day, or I’ll go ballistic on them.”
“They’ll only be observing. I’ll make sure they blend in and not bother you.” I stroked her cheek. “Thank you.”
“You owe me.”
“More than I could ever repay you.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s have dinner.”
“Great idea. Dinner, some wine, and a little time with my girl.”
Her eyes glowed. “Okay.”
I winked. “Good.”
* * *
Bentley
Twilight was descending, the room aglow as the sun set. We devoured her delicious pasta, drank the wine, and I had swum my laps as she finished her work. After swimming, I doffed my wet trunks and wrapped a towel around my hips. I felt Emmy’s gaze follow my every move, and knowing she was watching, I moved leisurely, my erection kicking up just thinking about her heated gaze. I poured myself a generous dollop of the brandy Greg had dropped off, and got a smaller one for her, thinking she might enjoy it. I handed her the glass and sat beside her.
“I’ve never had Courvoisier.” She eyed the glass.
“You sip it,” I explained. “Swirl the glass in your hand like this.” I demonstrated. “The warmth of your skin heats the brandy and brings out its flavor. It’s delicious.”
She followed my instructions, then sipped at the amber liquid. She wrinkled her nose a bit, making me chuckle.
“Not to your taste, Freddy?”
“Maybe it’s not warm enough.” She wagged her fingers. “My hands are never very cooperative that way.”
I wrapped my hand around hers, not surprised to feel the coolness of her skin. She was rarely warm to the touch, unless we were holding each other.
I offered her my glass. “Take a sip of mine. Roll it around on your tongue. Taste the difference.”
She tasted my brandy and swallowed, her eyes closing in pleasure. “Oh, you’re right. It’s lovely when it’s warmer.” She ran her hand through her hair, bunching it with her fingers through a sigh. “Decadent.”
She was sexy in her artless mannerisms and low voice. I hated the fact her hands were too cold to warm the liquid; although, I had no problem sharing my brandy with her. I glanced down at my glass as an idea sparked. I took her glass and poured the liquid into mine, swirling it around.
“The warmer it is, the better the flavor.”
“I can’t imagine how you can improve the flavor.”
“I have an idea.”
I shifted, turning to face her, and tugged her closer. Our eyes locked, hers widening as she felt the intensity of my gaze and the way the air around us shifted. I stared at her as I lifted the glass and filled my mouth with the amber liquid. I pressed my lips to hers, smiling as she opened for me, allowing the warm liquid to pass into her mouth. She swallowed deeply, a groan low in her throat as I pressed my tongue to hers, savoring the taste of the brandy mixed with her flavor. She slipped her hands up my shoulders, her fingers moving restlessly on the nape of my neck, playing with my hair, making me shiver. Her touch was gentle and light. It always stirred such emotion in me. I deepened the kiss, holding her tight and devouring her mouth. She whimpered, the sound muffled and needy.
In seconds, she was under me on the sofa. I pushed away her sweater and yanked down her yoga pants, covering her with my body. She tore off my towel, and our bare skin slid together, warming us both.
She wrapped her legs around my hips, cradling me with her body. I groaned at how ready she was for me, the heat of her enveloping my aching cock. I drew a plump nipple into my mouth, teasing it with my tongue until it was hard and glistening. I ran my lips to her other breast, repeating the action. She arched her back bringing her breasts closer to my mouth and gasped my name. I teased and nipped at her flesh, then buried my hands in her hair and captured her mouth again. Moments passed of only her taste. The feel of her lips, the silkiness of her hair gripped in my hands. The exquisite torture of her pussy as it slid against my cock, coating me with her desire.
“Every time,” I moaned against her skin, “every time with you is so amazing.”
Her feet pressed into my ass. “Inside me, Bentley. Now.”
I sank deep, the sensation of being bare inside her still new and intoxicating. The heat and wet of her surrounding me, pulling me in, milking my cock as I moved was like nothing I had ever experienced. I braced my arms by her head, driving into her as desire took over. My hips pounded into hers, our sweat-soaked skin sliding together. She met my thrusts, crying out in her passion. I buried my face into her neck, breathing in her unique fragrance. My balls began to tighten, and I turned my face to her ear, sliding my tongue around the sensitive flesh.
“Come with me, baby. I need to feel you coming around me.”
She arched, crying out my name. My release followed as I emptied inside her, groaning out in pleasure. I collapsed, rolling to the side, dragging her with me. I pinned her between the back of the sofa and my body, knowing she would need the heat. I snagged the blanket and draped it over her to be sure.
She sighed in my arms, nestling her head on my chest.
“You were right.”
I traced my fingers around her shoulder, my touch lazy and indulgent.
“About?”
“The brandy. It tastes better from your mouth. The warmer, the better.”
I grinned against her head. “I think it was you who made it taste delicious.”
I felt her smile.
“Probably not a good idea to share one in public, though. We might get thrown out of the restaurant if this is what happens to you.”
I started to chuckle.
“Good plan, Freddy. We’ll keep brandy sharing for our private time.”
“I wonder . . .”
“What?”
“How it tastes when you lick it off skin. Your skin.”
I tightened my grip. “Emmy . . .”
She looked up at me, her eyes filled with mischief. “I was just thinking. A mouthful of brandy . . . a mouthful of you . . .”
I stood, taking her with me.
We were going to need more room.
Plus more brandy—lots more brandy.
Emmy
Bentley shifted, muttering something as he moved. His arm tightened around me reflexively, then loosened as he drifted back into sleep. Early dawn spilled through the glass, and I could study his face in the wan light. Relaxed, without the serious countenance that people saw him wear, he looked younger and oddly vulnerable. His light brown hair, without the product to tame it, was wavy and fell over his forehead. I liked how it looked on him. The stubble was thick on his chin, and I knew I would find evidence of his passion on my skin. Slight red blemishes his rough beard left behind. He allowed the scruff because I liked it, even though I knew he preferred to be clean-shaven. He did so many things to please me, but he couldn’t see how wonderful he was.
I inhaled, content and lazy, yet not sleepy. The bed smelled like Bentley, like me, like us. There was the faint aroma of brandy and sex, making the scent unique and heady.
Unlike his serious, stiff persona he showed to the world, when we were alone, Bentley was open—a passionate, giving lover. I adored his playful side and loved his hidden, ardent nature. He made me feel free to express my wants. He loved it when I was vocal with him, and he had no qualms about giving me everything I asked, or demanding what he wanted, needed, from me. I’d had other relationships in the past, but nothing close to what I shared with him.
He was a constant surprise to me. The day I met him in the coffee shop, I thought he was bigger than life. It hadn’t taken me long to see past the haughty exterior, or his snotty remarks—they were simply a cover. His eyes told a different story. Exceptional in color, they were a vivid blue, with dark circles around the
irises, setting off the hue. They spoke of sadness and pain, and they drew me to him. I hadn’t expected to see him again, and when he had shown up, my heart flew into my throat; although, I had acted calm. His bumbling attempts at asking me to dinner, only cemented my first instincts that there was more to the man than he ever let anyone know.
The lengths he went to for my birthday, the way he included my friends had been the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me. Since then, he had bent over backward to be part of my world. He had let me drag him bowling, once again bringing Aiden and Maddox along. The six of us had the two end lanes, splitting up into boys versus girls. While he’d appeared horrified at the idea of wearing shoes someone else had worn, and informed me tossing a ball down an alley was hardly a sport, once he relaxed, he proved not only to be a good bowler but joined in the trash-talking and amusement as much as Aiden and Maddox. They looked shocked at his antics, but laughed hard when he slapped my ass after his third strike and dragged me into his arms, kissing me hard and informing me, “That’s how it’s done.”
We also hosted a movie night, and everyone came to the house. We made homemade pizza, teasing and arguing over toppings and how long to bake them. Afterward, we watched movies, and I curled up in his lap, enjoying the closeness. Aiden started a popcorn fight between movies, and we were all laughing and breathless as we collapsed into the comfortable recliners when it was finished.
Bentley had pressed a kiss to my head, breathing a quiet, “Thank you,” into my ear. I knew what he was thanking me for—a night of fun and friends, instead of another night alone. I hated the thought of his life before we met, and the loneliness he endured all the time. I curled up closer to him with a silent promise he would never be alone again.
I couldn’t help noticing our friends had paired off again. Aiden and Cami were in the back row, and I was certain I had seen their hands clasped together at one point. Dee and Maddox seemed to be in constant private conversation; their heads close as they spoke.
I had laid my head on Bentley’s shoulder, content and hopeful the future would have many nights like those for us.
Vested Interest Box Set Books 1-3 Page 13
