Heart of Gold (The Golden Boys - Book 1)

by Michaela Haze

  My hands trembled as I drove home. I was done with her shit.

  28

  I pulled up outside of the police station. Harriet was with me for moral support, even though I knew that I would be alone when I made my station. My lawyer, Georgina Sugar, met us outside. She had flown down from New York the previous day. Whilst she was on my corporate team at Gold and Penn, Georgina also did a lot of pro bono for a woman’s shelter in Harlem. She specialised in sex crimes. Her typical day at Gold and Penn centred around employee treatment, sexual harassment and ensuring all the boxes were tucked so that the company wouldn't be sued.

  I had chosen her because she had the most experience. Harry leant forward and shook the lawyer’s hand. She then stepped back and let me do the same. Ms. Sugar had high cheekbones and was distinctly fox-like. We walked in together and began to tedious and gruelling process of reporting a crime. Sheriff Bell allowed Harriet in the room with me. Mainly because his questions made my jaw tightened and it was obvious I wanted to lob a chair against the one-way glass when he started implying that I had wanted it. Despite the fact I was unconscious.

  Yes. I had gone there to sleep with Sarah.

  But that did not change the fact that I was drugged. There was a lack of consent.

  Ms. Sugar reamed the sheriff pretty hard but I couldn’t say that I didn’t give me vindication to see it.

  Harriet clasped my hand as we walked from the interview room. She waved at someone in the corner and my gaze trailed to the Sheriff's daughter. Gwen Bell.

  Honey blonde, wearing a smart silk blouse and tailored trousers. Her spine was ramrod straight and her hands were folded on her lap. She was the epitome of grace and poise. I recognised her immediately but her presence gave me pause. She was Nate's thorn. For some reason, he could not leave the poor girl alone.

  Gwen Bell was odd. And not in the cute, manic pixie dream girl way. Detached. Intelligent. She saw too much and I gathered that Nate didn’t like it. I had no say about the girl. She organised mother’s parties. I had no stake in the matter.

  “Hello.’” Gwen said stiffly.

  “Hi.” Harry peeked out from around my arm. “How are you?”

  “I was bringing my father lunch.” Gwen looked over my shoulder to where the sheriff was filing paperwork. “He told me about what Sarah did.”

  “Did he now?” I growled.

  Gwen nodded to herself. “I felt that I should tell you something. I have been sitting on this knowledge for a month and I thought it prudent to divulge to you at this moment.”

  I glanced at Harry who was trying not to smile at the endearing girl. Gwen Bell spoke like she was trying to fit as many big words into a sentence as possible. Her voice held no emotion and her eyes didn’t have the glint of smugness that came with people that threw eloquent words around because of status. She just genuinely spoke like a textbook.

  “Yes?”

  “Everyone is aware of Sarah Mallory's pregnancy.” Gwen nodded to herself. “But I saw her in the pharmacy on October 21st at around 2pm buying sanitary products?”

  My brow furrowed. “What?”

  “Sanitary products. A pack of 36 tampons. Super. And a can of mountain dew.” Gwen rattled off. “She was wearing a red t-shirt with a small crocodile on the breast pocket and light blue jeans. She sneered at me as she walked past.”

  Gwen's eccentric personality aside, a thought struck me. “You have a photographic memory.” I echoed.

  “I think the term is eidetic.” Harry chimed in.

  “She is correct.” Gwen nodded. “That is the correct term.”

  “Sarah was buying tampons?” I muttered.

  “That is not all.” Gwen pulled her phone out of her pocket. “The sonogram that she used to announce her pregnancy does not belong to her. I reverse-Google image searched it and it belongs to a blog entitled Bump and Baby Timeline, a Texas-based woman named Annemarie. She advocates home births—” Gwen held out her phone and showed us both.

  “Gwen, you can stop talking now.” Harry suggested affectionately and it was clear that Gwen had a stream of consciousness thing going on. Once she started talking, she didn’t stop. Hope bloomed in my chest. I looked up at Harry with a tentative smile. “Sarah Mallory is lying.”

  Harry opened her mouth to respond but Gwen beat her to it.

  “That is a fair assumption.”

  Her brow furrowed as we both laughed as loud and as boisterously as we could.

  We drove to Judy's diner for lunch. Harry had suggested it. It was a Thursday, which meant Key Lime Pie. It was also the day of our longstanding lap dance at the Pink Sleeve.

  “It’s Thursday.” I smirked.

  “And my day off.” Harry winked. “Maybe you'll have to give me a lap dance.”

  We sat down at a booth, I unfolded a laminated menu but Harry didn’t need to look at the menu. She tapped her knuckles against the cheap bistro table. Her attention was outside.

  “I’ve done something.” I told her. “Don’t be mad.”

  Harry's whisky eyes blinked slowly. A smile hitched at the edge of her lips, showcasing the dimple on one side. “That sounds ominous.”

  “Rina and Julian want you to be their wedding photographer.” I said. Her mouth popped open in a giant O and didn’t close even when the waitress came and filled both of our mugs with bitter black coffee.

  “Elliot, I can’t—”

  “I spoke to Rina about it.” I informed her. “She didn’t know why she didn’t think of it first.”

  “I have an Instagram account.” Harry hissed in a low voice. “I’m not a trained photographer.”

  “You have thirty thousand followers. You're brilliant.” I maintained. Strongly.

  “I don’t have the equipment.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I’ll buy it for you.”

  “Elliot...” She groaned as she pinched the bridge of her nose. My mother had always told me off for the exasperated gesture and I guessed that Harry had adopted it.

  “Or rent it.” I shrugged. “It’ll be great for your portfolio.”

  “Is this about the Pink Sleeve?” She eyed me suspiciously.

  “Harry, you can do what you like with your body as long as you're not welcoming anyone else inside of it.” I took a sip of my coffee to try and defuse the alpha possessive waves that I felt in my voice. “I just want you to be happy.”

  The table was cloaked in shadow and I looked up in surprise to see that two female bikers had descended on our table. If not for the smiles on both of their faces, I would have thought they were a threat.

  One was thin as a reed and five foot nothing, the other was built like a barn with short cropped hair.

  “Harry!” the slight woman in a biker cut darted from under her partner’s arm and leant in to give my girlfriend a hug.

  The larger woman patted her on the shoulder. “We've missed you.”

  “Elliot—this is Big Sal and little Sue. They were my favourite customers when I worked here...” She explained.

  I watched as the women caught us and it always amazed me how at ease Harry was around others. The bikers left once our food arrived. I had dish envy when my pancakes didn’t measure up to Harry's jambalaya.

  “I’ll do the photography for Rina’s wedding.” Harry said as she blew the stream from her spoonful of rice. “And for the record, I am happy.”

  Her bright smile accompanied her words and I wondered what I’d done in a past life to deserve such a beautiful and amazing woman.

  29

  Elliot was pouting.

  He wore an expression that I would have never expected to have seen on a six foot four giant of a man. All because I’d insisted that he wear a Christmas sweater.

  We had gone to Walmart to pick out the ugliest Christmas sweaters that we could find. Mine was pink with white pom-poms all over and seemed to shed glitter every time I moved. I had found a matching set of scrunchies and fashioned my hair into braids.

  Elliot wore a p
atchwork sweater that seemed to be themed around the concept of gingerbread elf hybrids. It was a combination of every colour of the rainbow. We were a shoe-in for the ugly sweater contest.

  Mistletoe Day at the Gold estate had come quickly. It wasn’t an intimate dinner and for that I was thankful. I didn’t want to be under the microscope again. I could deal with an outdoor event. Plus eggnog. Always a win.

  We'd kissed under the mistletoe and eaten peppermint sugar cookies. That weird feeling that came with Christmas excitement mingled with the warmth that I felt for Elliot inside.

  The day was long but in the best way.

  “I can't wait to spend Christmas with you.” Elliot told me as we walked down Goldryn Row together. He tucked me under his arm.

  “You don’t even have a tree yet.” I griped.

  “We’ll decorate it together on my day off.” Elliot promised as he kissed the end of my nose. My lips pulled into a full smile, with all the teeth included.

  “You're already thinking of a colour scheme.” He accused with narrowed eyes.

  I shrugged but my smile never left my face. “Green and red is a Christmas classic.” I replied.

  We walked around the side of Elliot's house after the security guard let us in at the gate. He'd changed all of his key codes since Sarah had broken in and hired extra staff until the court date was finalised.

  As soon as we stepped into the kitchen, I turned away and hooked my coat on the pantry door. I began to unwind my scarf when I felt his lips on my newly bared throat.

  With a giggle, I shuddered in anticipation as Elliot pushed my hair to one side and pressed fleeting kisses on every inch of bared skin. From the seam of my jaw to the beginning of my shoulder.

  I made a move to turn around but Elliot growled, his body boxed mine in. I was pressed against the door, his hands gripped my waist and held me in place.

  “I’ve been thinking about this all day.” He breathed into my ear. His hands moved from my waist and dipped under my bra. He pushed the cups up until they rested on my collarbone and brushed the pads of his fingers across my taut nipples.

  I rocked backwards and found his cock pressed against the small of my back, through his trousers. I could feel how hard he was. I rolled my hips to find friction and Elliot dipped his hands down. Travelling down the skin of my stomach, he dipped his hand into the waistband of my jeans. It felt so elicit as he touched me through my clothes. My moans escaped my lips and every part of my body tingled in anticipation of his touch.

  Elliot Gold smelt like wood spice and expensive cologne. Peppermint and pine soap. I closed my eyes and my head rolled back and rested between his pectoral muscles. He undid my jeans. One button at a time.

  “You’re so wet for me. Always. I fucking love it.” Elliot growled as he brushed the outside of my lace underwear with a teasing finger. He used the other hand to shuck my jeans over my hips. He knelt behind me. I tried to turn around so that I could look into his eyes. Watch his face as he took me. Elliot put his hand on the small of my back and stopped me.

  He cupped the flesh of my buttocks and spread my cheeks apart. He placed tender kisses on the inside of my thighs.

  “Place your hands against the door. Open your legs.” He commanded.

  Whilst Elliot definitely ran the show in the bedroom. A man that knew what he wanted and took it. He'd never issued commands before. Every syllable of his low and gruff voice sent a bolt directly to my clit.

  I did as he asked and closed my eyes. I was as taut as a guitar string, waiting to be plucked.

  Elliot did not disappoint. He peeled my underwear over the globes of my ass so slowly that it felt like he was teasing me. His fingers splayed out as he ran them up my leg, from knee to thigh. He bypassed my pussy completely. Massaging the inside of my leg but never quite brushing against my core.

  I found myself trusting my hips backwards and tilting my butt out, closer to his face. I wanted more.

  Elliot leant forward and blew a hot breath of my exposed lips. Wet. Sodden. As I felt the warm air hit my pussy, everything inside of me clenched.

  “Please,” I begged.

  “What do you want, Pepperberry?” Elliot replied.

  I moaned as he slipped his hand between my legs and used a single finger to pry my outer lips apart. My clit was exposed but untouched. “Touch me.” I begged.

  “Here?” He ran his finger from the top of my pussy and hooked his finger inside. My entire body jolted. “Yesssss.” I hissed as I rocked my hips to push him deeper.

  He pulled his lone finger from inside and I felt the protest my body made as he did so. My pussy latched onto him, tight, as he tried to hold onto his finger.

  Elliot took his wet finger and I felt his hands as they spread my ass cheeks again. The soaked digit teased the ribbed skin of my asshole. I flinched at the new, but exciting touch.

  “Has anyone ever...?” He didn't say the dirty words out loud but I felt them as his finger put pressure on my rosebud but didn’t go inside. I shook my head and his free hand slapped my butt.

  I jolted.

  “I need words, Pepperberry.” Elliot admonished.

  “No.” I whispered.

  “Do you want me to touch you there?”

  “I d-don't know.”

  Instead of pressing forward and pushing his finger inside, I felt its absence. I didn’t have time to mourn it as Elliot’s tongue darted out and circled my clit. Never quite brushing the nub. With his other fingers, he spread my pussy open, as he knelt between my legs and worshipped me with his tongue.

  He sucked my clit into his mouth and I felt the light brush of my teeth as he nipped and played. I rode his face, heady and drunk on the wet sounds of my pussy as he licked me like a man dying of starvation.

  His fingers dipped inside but didn’t move. Teasing but adding pressure. I rocked my hips. Riding his mouth and he gave me another finger. Thrusting inside. His hand moved like a madman as he plunged his fingers inside of me.

  I coiled like a spring. The pressure built in my spine and low in my belly. My clit was a pulsating heartbeat, engorged and begging for contact.

  I felt my body go higher and higher and my muscles clenched as I prepared myself. I was going to cum. Hard. Elliot hummed against my pussy as treated me like an open feast. His sounds pushed me over the edge. My orgasm ripped through me, waves upon waves of pleasure. Elliot plunged his finger inside of my ass, lubricated with my own juices. The strange sensation made me spiral in a different direction. Unable to recognise the new type of pleasure that rolled through my body like an earthquake.

  Stars flashed behind my eyelids. My voice sounded hoarse and needy. When I came down from Elliot's ministrations I was limp. Boneless. My lips tilted in a smile.

  He hooked his arms under my knees and swung me into a princess hold. I gripped the side of his face, and stared into his eyes. Shards of ice. Blue like the summer sky on a clear day. Bright but hooded with lust. I leant forward and pressed my lips against his. Our kiss grew deeper as he walked us to his bedroom. I could taste myself on his lips. Musky. Sweet.

  He placed my body on the bed, but our eyes never broke contact.

  When he thrust inside of me, without a word, sheathed with his eyes burrowing into mine. I knew that his love for me was deeper than I could comprehend. That the strong and stoic man above me burned for me. Brightly. Intensely.

  We made love into the early hours of the morning. And when the sun rose, we did it all again.

  Elliot cooked breakfast as I sat on the kitchen island. He was dressed in a white dress shirt, his suit jacket hung on the back of the chair. He'd rolled up his sleeves as he cooked dinner.

  I had booked some time off of work, but I wanted to meet Rina so we could talk through what she wanted for her wedding. I'd managed to buy a telephoto lens (which meant I could shoot at long range) and I wanted to go to the Langley McMansion at some point to scope out the grounds and check out the lighting.

  “What do you have on at work tod
ay?” I asked before taking a sip of my bitter coffee. Elliot made it just the way I liked it.

  “Penn is coming over and we've got a meeting with Scizo about hosting one of their flagship stores.”

  I whistled. “Scizo? The makeup company? That'll be good publicity.”

  “They’re based in New Orleans, so it'll be a good fit for the Goldryn Mall,” Elliot said as he placed an omelette in front of me.

  “This looks so good.” I moaned in appreciation and took a bite.

  “I’m not just a pretty face.”

  “No... Your butt is pretty amazing too.” I sighed and Elliot swatted me with a potholder. “I have a question.”

  “Shoot.” Elliot said as he cracked an egg on the skillet.

  “Gold and Penn. Come on. It sounds like a stationary company.” I snickered.

  Elliot looked over his shoulders. “Haven’t you heard of the Penn’s?”

  “No? Should I have?”

  “He’s a blueblood. Came over on the Mayflower. I think he's related to the Kennedys in some obscure way.”

  I nodded in awe. “The Golds are new money compared to the Penn’s then?”

  Elliot nodded as he flipped his omelette with a spatula. “We met at Princeton. He's a good guy.”

  “It sounds like you have a busy day today.” I said. “Do you still want me to come over for dinner? Won't you be tired?”

  “Trying to get out of meeting Marshall?”

  “That obvious?” I winced.

  “You don’t have to cook.” Elliot said. “I can always cater?”

  “And miss out on the chance to use this kitchen to burn toast?” I smirked. “No way. Plus I’m at Rina's for most of the day. It'll be easier to come straight over.”

  “I can’t wait until you see.” Elliot said smugly.

  “See what?” I blinked.

  “How fucking amazing you are.”

  Rina handed me a glass of white wine. We sat on the patio and watched the sun as it crested the trees. The immaculately tended lawn was bathed in an orange glow.