Inevitable Inheritance: The Inevitable Series | Book One

by Charest, Kade

  Derrick was a nervous wreck.

  It was his first day back to the office and he wouldn’t say it, but his behavior was not the smooth criminal he had portrayed to Taylor over the last few weeks. He had pulled out and put back three different suit jackets before Taylor intercepted.

  “Let me help,” she said, coming into the large closet behind him.

  Derrick turned to her with relief flashing over his face. “I don’t know what my problem is,” he said, totally befuddled by his own behavior.

  “It is a big day,” Taylor said, “and how lucky am I to be able to pick out my husband’s power suit for his big day?”

  “I like it when you call me that,” he said, smiling and now distracted.

  Taylor knew he would be. He had been calling her “his wife” for days, and it took adjusting but she didn’t flinch when she heard it now. And if she was being honest, she kind of liked it.

  Taylor turned to him with her outfit selection and found him eyeing her strangely.

  “What?” she asked reevaluating her choices.

  “Are you happy, Taylor?”

  Taylor wasn’t ready for that bomb, and she wasn’t sure how to answer. “Uh …” was the best she could come up with.

  “Never mind,” Derrick said, casting his eyes down and moving to take the clothes from her.

  “No, I mean yes,” Taylor said, moving the clothes from his grasp, forcing him to stay with her. She took a deep breath.

  “It was not what I wanted,” she started, and anger flared over Derrick’s face. “But, I am happy,” she said, and that was the truth. She had lost the stress of what she was going to do with their situation; it was done. She no longer needed to find a way to get things done at Preston Corp., she was married and was making it happen. “And the sex is okay,” she said, shrugging.

  “Okay?” Derrick asked, eyebrows raised. “The sex is just ‘okay’?” he asked, coming toward her with a swagger that said he was ready to prove otherwise.

  “No way,” she said, holding a hand out to him. “We will be late.”

  “We own the companies. I think it will be okay,” he told her, removing the clothing from her hands. “Please, Mrs. Fletcher, let me exceed your expectations,” he mock pleaded, grabbing her to him.

  And then his phone went off, the ringtone he had set for work, and Derrick swallowed hard. All the tension returned to his face full force.

  “You can do this, Derrick,” she said to him, and the irony of the role reversal was not lost on her.

  Derrick nodded, but he didn’t seem to have heard anything she said. Instead of responding, he grabbed his clothes and went in search of his phone to take on the day.

  * * *

  The day zoomed by for Taylor, and she had been in text contact with Derrick all day, just checking in. His answers had been brief: Good. Going into a meeting. She was worried about him. Simon’s explanation of his behavior helped to bridge their relationship, even if Derrick knew nothing about it. Derrick affirmed that he loved her every day, and guilt ate at Taylor because she could not return the words, not in the way he wanted her to. She cared about him, a lot, but she just couldn’t say something she wasn’t sure of.

  Six o’clock came, and Taylor decided it was time for her to get Derrick. A ten-hour day was long enough for taking over a company right after your father died, leaving you in charge of an empire. She gathered her things, and Henry and Luke walked her to the elevator. On the way down, Henry engaged in a tense phone discussion.

  “We need to head out, and get Mr. Fletcher. Make it happen.”

  The person on the other end said something that seemed to displease Henry, and he gripped his phone, hard.

  “And the police can’t get control of it? This is ridiculous,” he grunted.

  “What’s wrong, Henry?” Taylor asked.

  “I will call you back,” Henry said, hanging up. “The street is cluttered with photographers. They started piling in about an hour ago. It would seem they want a picture of you and your new husband,” Henry explained.

  No kidding, Taylor thought. Their marriage license had been breaking news, all over every station, magazine, and social media platform worldwide. Just trying to get to the private burial had been a huge debacle because of the herds of media, paparazzi, and just people trying to get a shot of Taylor and Derrick since the news broke. It was ridiculous, but it didn’t seem like it was ever going to stop.

  “All right. Well, let’s do it,” Taylor said.

  “No,” Henry said quickly.

  “Henry, this is crazy. They are going nuts because we are avoiding them, if—”

  “No.”

  Taylor scowled at him. “How about a compromise?” she asked, and he glowered. “Oh, don’t be such a grump! How about you get me to Derrick safely and then you assess the situation? If you feel it is too unsafe for Derrick and me to go out after you see for yourself, then fine. If you think it is okay, we go and make an appearance, get our pictures taken, and go home.”

  Henry made no change in his face or posture. “Fine,” he agreed.

  Taylor smiled at him. “There now, was that so hard?” she asked and was rewarded with a small smile from the big bulldozer of a man. Taylor still had no love for the media, but she understood her position in the spotlight, and that meant people wouldn’t rest until they saw a glimpse of her and Derrick. Or it could only make them hungry for more, but she really hoped that wasn’t the case.

  Taylor was ushered into the garage and followed her security detail obediently through a series of doors and hallways and eventually found herself in an alley. Henry held open another door, and she made her way down a flight of stairs and to another elevator. Somehow, she had been herded into the garage of Fletcher Enterprises.

  “Pretty awesome, Henry,” she commended as she entered the elevator.

  They sailed up and Taylor got off at the top floor, exiting with Luke. “I will let you know as soon as I can,” Henry said.

  “No problem,” she said. She was sure Derrick would need to decompress anyway before they went through the chaos she was determined to get over. Truth was, it scared her to go into that mob, but she needed to face it head-on.

  As Taylor crossed the threshold into Derrick’s office, she could hear his voice just on the edge of shouting. It seemed his day hadn’t gone as “fine” as he had said in his texts. “I’m going to go and talk to Derrick, could you give us a minute Luke?” Taylor asked.

  The stoic man nodded, taking up space leaning against the wall across from the office door.

  Taylor walked past the empty secretary desk and back to Derrick’s office door. She opened the door without knocking and peeked her head in, finding Derrick standing behind his desk, his back to the door. He was on the phone, and from his posture and what Taylor could hear, it was not going well.

  “I do not care how long it takes. Get it done!” Derrick informed the caller, slammed the phone on the receiver, and then picked up the entire office phone and threw it against the wall. The phone shattered in about a dozen pieces.

  Boys are so silly.

  “Feel better?” Taylor asked with a sarcastic smile.

  Derrick turned in surprise. “No,” he answered, slumping into his chair and putting his head in his hands.

  “Tell me about it,” Taylor encouraged, walking around the desk to be next to him.

  Derrick shook his head. “It’s stupid.”

  “Try me.”

  Derrick leaned back in his chair, relaxing his head against the back and looking Taylor in the eye. “I don’t think people are taking me seriously. I feel like they are moving slowly on purpose because they are waiting for me to fuck up and lose the company.”

  Taylor pursed her lips and thought about what he was saying. “Why would they do that?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “But all day everyone has been running out of my way, avoiding me, and getting nothing done. None of the damn reports I asked for have been submitted. Nobod
y had answers for me about the new construction project—”

  “Well, based on your tone I can’t imagine why everyone wasn’t eager and jumping to help you, darling,” Taylor replied sarcastically.

  Derrick heaved a deep breath in and out then pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been a dick all day, haven’t I?”

  “Sounds like,” Taylor confirmed. She felt so bad for him; he just wanted to do it right, to keep everything going. She understood the pressure. “You know, Derrick, these people are hurting too. They are hurting for your dad, and for you, and with you being, uh, tense they probably weren’t sure how to take you.”

  “Oh God,” Derrick said, putting his head back in his hands.

  “It’s okay,” Taylor said, patting his back. “Derrick, you are allowed to be upset.”

  “But I am not allowed to be a dick.”

  “Well, no,” Taylor agreed. “Just be you, and work it out tomorrow.”

  Derrick peeked back up at Taylor from his hands. “Now I get why you were so stressed. I mean, I was taking on more and more stuff, but now it’s all on me, just me.” He rubbed his face. “And it sucks.”

  Taylor crouched in front of Derrick and lifted up his chin. “Remember all those times you told me I knew what I was doing and not to overthink it? You need to take your own advice.”

  Derrick blew out a breath then leaned in and kissed Taylor and gave her a small smile. “Thanks,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here to snap me back to reality.”

  “No problem,” Taylor smiled back. She wanted to do something. She had been thinking about it for a while, but she didn’t want to do it wrong. She was thinking right now would be the time to test it out.

  Taylor gently pushed Derrick back in his office chair. “Let me help you relax,” she offered, trailing her hand and eyes down his shirt buttons and landing at his belt. Taylor bit her lip to concentrate and used her thumb to free Derrick’s belt end from its closure. When he grabbed her hand, stopping it from moving and holding it in place, Taylor’s eyes flew up to his.

  He gave her a look of warning and desperation, the combination sparkled within them, but he said nothing.

  “Why are you stopping me?” Taylor asked, concerned. She must have done something wrong, hit some button, but he didn’t answer her or loosen his grip. “Derrick? Did I do something wrong?”

  He shook his head.

  Taylor looked away from him and at the ground. She really did not know where to go from here. It had taken a lot of courage to sit herself in front of Derrick, and now she was being rejected. Should she leave? Should she get mad? Should she—

  Suddenly Derrick let go of her hand, letting it fall back against his zipper. He leaned back in his chair, pushing something hard against Taylor’s resting hand.

  Green light.

  Her courage surged when she felt Derrick straining against his pants under her hand, and she went back to her experiment. She made quick work of undoing his belt, button, and zipper, and getting to his Calvin’s. Taylor took a moment to appreciate the solid length in front of her.

  Yes, she and Derrick had consummated their marriage, a lot, but Taylor had never been up close and personal with his, um, anatomy until that moment. And though she had nothing to compare it to, she was impressed.

  Taylor slid her hand gently over the fabric covering him. Derrick took a sharp breath in and leaned his head back, watching Taylor through lidded eyes. Taylor repeated the motion, up and down, several more times. On the final upswing, she grabbed the waist of his boxers and tugged them down to expose him.

  Derrick’s erection came out eagerly to Taylor’s waiting hand. It was hot and smooth, and as soon as Taylor put her hand to it, Derrick hissed, groaned, and thrust his hips forward. Taylor slowly stroked him, gaining encouragement from his responses. She hastened the pace, opened and closed her grip, and was rewarded with Derrick’s continued responses of pleasure.

  But Taylor wanted to try more.

  She licked her lips and bent her head and again Derrick stopped her.

  “Tay, I, uh, I’m really close,” he wheezed out to her. Taylor looked up to him. “I might … I’m going to …”

  “What?” she asked, stroking him lightly.

  Derrick’s eyes rolled back in his head. “If you … I might …” Derrick panted and then looked at her, stilling her hand. “I am about ready to come, and if you put your mouth on me it is going to happen in your mouth.”

  Taylor’s eyes widened, and she looked down and saw a bead of clear fluid on the tip of Derrick’s hard cock. She looked back up at him, very confident and pleased with herself that she could do this to him. She said, “Good,” and bent to lick his tip.

  Derrick hissed as Taylor sheathed him with her mouth. She moved up and down, gaining fearlessness as Derrick moaned, writhed, and surged his hips up with her every movement. “Tay, I’m close. If you … maybe you should stop.”

  But instead Taylor hastened the pace. She took his length as far into her mouth as she could and then circled her hand to capture what she couldn’t. Taylor suctioned her mouth to him and kept her pace quick, spurred by the sounds of his groans.

  “Taylor,” Derrick grunted, his hands reaching up to clutch her head, and then he lost himself in her mouth, his whole body going lax.

  Taylor knew what was going to happen when Derrick came, but despite her knowledge she hadn’t really thought through how to handle it. And now she had a full mouth, and no idea what to do. Spit? Swallow? Run away? She opted for swallowing the evidence and when she looked up she saw a small smile on Derrick’s satisfied face.

  Mission accomplished.

  Taylor leaned back. “Sorry,” she said to him.

  Derrick opened his eyes, brows furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

  “Well, you didn’t seem to enjoy it. I guess I should have stopped sooner. I didn’t want you to suffer.”

  Derrick laughed and pulled Taylor into his arms. “I love you,” he said and kissed her gently.

  A knock at the door broke the pair apart. “Mrs. Fletcher, we need to get out of here. The crowd has gotten violent downstairs. There will be no photo shoot today,” Henry announced through the wooden door.

  “Photo shoot?” Derrick asked.

  “I wanted to let them get pictures of us to see if they would leave us alone,” Taylor explained.

  “Taylor, that’s not a good idea—”

  “Mrs. Fletcher—”

  “Okay, okay,” Taylor said loudly, cutting off both Derrick and Henry. She stood and smoothed out her skirt. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Despite his laughing off the day the night before, Derrick was even more nervous going in the next day. He had made a complete and total asshole of himself, and now he had to make it right. As soon as Taylor had pointed it out to him, every misstep in his day had come flashing back to him like a sports recap reel. This wouldn’t have happened if his dad were here. First of all, he would have been handling all the stuff Derrick was now dealing with; and, second, if Derrick was acting like a douche, Simon would have put the kibosh on it right away.

  But he was gone.

  And each day that seemed to become more painful and more apparent.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Taylor asked as she came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and drying her hair. Just looking at her, naked except for one slight barrier, had Derrick thinking the best solution for the day, for him, and the Fletcher Enterprise staff was to call in sick and keep his wife in bed all the livelong day. “Stop looking at me like that. We are going to work,” Taylor said, reading his thoughts and turning away, but Derrick didn’t miss that flushed face of hers before she turned and went into their closet.

  Heaving out a heavy breath, Derrick thought about his plan. “I’m going to have a company-wide meeting at 2 p.m.”

  Taylor returned from the closet, her hair now wrapped in a towel and her body clad in scraps of undergarments that Derrick had to re
member to thank his sister for purchasing. “That sounds good. What are you going to say?” she asked as she went to grab a comb from the bathroom and then sat on the bed.

  The fact that she was comfortable in just her underwear around Derrick and talking with him about work like it was no big deal was huge. Gigantic. Derrick wasn’t sure if she had been worn down or just accepted what life had handed to her, but he was euphoric that she seemed to be not only accepting, but happy with the way things had turned out. He was too afraid to ask her about it, though, in case he spooked her back into jitters.

  Derrick adjusted his tie. “I have no fucking idea,” he said. He got his tie knotted and then unknotted it again and turned to his wife. He really liked calling her that, even if he only did it in his head. “Any suggestions?”

  Taylor got up from the bed and walked over to the closet, returning with another tie. “I like this one better,” she said, pulling the one Derrick had been wrestling with from around his neck. She lifted his collar and slid a baby-blue tie with thin brown striping around his neck. “It’s like our eye colors mixed together,” she said as she tied his tie for him.

  It was suddenly Derrick’s favorite tie ever.

  “Anyway,” she said, still focused on the task at hand, while Derrick was still focused on her breasts, “just talk from the heart.” She smiled at him. “Be honest. Tell them, ‘I am a dick by nature, and that came out yesterday, sorry.’”

  Derrick barked a laugh. “That is both helpful and professional. Thanks for the advice, Preston,” he said.

  Taylor raised her brows at him. “Preston-Fletcher,” she corrected him.

  Derrick felt immediately better about his entire day. His subconscious plastered a stupid grin across his face, and it stayed there all the way to their car.

  * * *

  Derrick had chosen two for the meeting because he thought it would allow everyone to adjust their schedules and reschedule whatever they had to. He had not considered how torn up he would be for the entire day.