Dirty Rich Obsession

by Lisa Renee Jones

  “Leave me with my daughter.”

  “He made bad deals and he was going to get caught,” Stella says. “As in dirty deals that could have put him in jail, so he made it look like he’d lost his touch. He had dirt on Reid’s father, things that could put him in jail and Maxwell Senior had tied Reid’s name to those things, but Reid didn’t know.”

  “I’ll tell her the rest, Stella,” my father says. “I’ll tell her.” He looks at me. “I didn’t want you to know I wasn’t your hero as you thought I was. I told Reid that if he made it look like a hostile takeover and buried the dirty deals, I’d bury the trouble his father could have gotten him into. My condition for handing him all the data was that you never knew. If he told you, I would get his stock. The dirt I had on his father that was attached to him was bad enough that he agreed. He wanted it over. He wanted the war to end and he didn’t know you. He had no reason to ever feel the temptation to tell you.”

  “And then I went to him and changed that.”

  “You went to him?” my father asks.

  I ignore the question. “What did Reid’s father do?”

  “Someone died,” he says. “That’s all I’ll say. I don’t want you to know the details. It was enough to make even Reid Maxwell feel really damn trapped. And I didn’t tell your brother to send that document to you. He knows about Reid’s father and your mother. He hates the Maxwells.”

  “Why did you tell him, and not me, about all of this?”

  “I wanted you to have something perfect in your world. I wanted you to think I was your hero.”

  “And yet, you have treated me horribly over Reid.”

  “Because he was too close to you and knew too much.”

  “Would you have told me now if not for Stella?”

  “I don’t know.”

  That cuts, but at least it’s not a lie. I grab my coat and purse and walk past him. Stella backs out of the kitchen to let me exit and I stop in front of her. “Thank you. You don’t know me, and you saved me.”

  “Be happy,” she says. “Then I’ll be glad I did this.”

  I start walking and I don’t look back. I need to get back home to Reid. I need to see him and let him look into my eyes and know I trust him. I never stopped trusting him.

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  Carrie

  We’re in the air when a storm delays our landing. For forty-five minutes, we circle the airport. By the time we land, I have just enough time to get home, get my bags and leave. I want to call Reid, but I think he needs to see me, to know I’m there at the airport. That plan seems wonderful until I’m at the airport and security is out the door thanks to some threat that apparently occurred this morning. Everyone is being wanded.

  I try to call Reid, but I get a busy signal.

  “My cell never works in this part of the airport,” a man behind me says.

  “Oh. Thanks.”

  No. No. No. This can’t be happening.

  It takes another twenty minutes and I run like a madwoman to my gate. I watch as the doors shut. “No!” I scream. “I’m on this flight.”

  “Sorry, ma’am. FFA regulations. Once the doors shut, they’re shut. We can get you to a customer service agent to rebook you.”

  He’s going to think I didn’t want to be on that flight.

  ***

  Reid

  She didn’t show up. I’m destroyed in a way I didn’t know I could be destroyed. Two whiskeys and an empty seat beside me, and I can’t seem to calm the damn ache in my heart. I’m two hours into the sixteen-hour flight and I decide I need to work. I need to do something to occupy my damn mind. I pull out my MacBook and log onto the internet.

  An instant message pops up from Carrie: Please tell me you’re online.

  I stare at it, not sure I want to answer. Not sure of any fucking thing right now. When I don’t reply she types: I made it to the gate as they shut the doors. My flight from Montana circled for an hour and then security was out the door. My father was out on the ranch until an hour before I had to leave and please talk to me. Are you there? I love you, Reid. I never doubted you. I’m in the air. I got on another flight. I’m landing first. It’s a non-stop. I’ll be at the gate waiting for you when you land. I know everything. I don’t even know if you will see this message, but I’ll be there.

  Suddenly, I can breathe again. I type: I read it all.

  She replies instantly: Please tell me you believe me. There was not one moment that I wasn’t trying to be on that plane with you. I went to Montana so this can just be behind us.

  I need you on this plane with me, I reply.

  I want to be there with you, she answers.

  What does “you know everything” mean? I ask.

  The debt, she types. The way he held you hostage. But I only know because his new woman knew and she told me most of it. She forced him to tell me the rest. Even when I told him how much you mean to me, he wasn’t going to tell me.

  I meant it when I said that it’s killed me to keep this from you, I reply.

  You were right to hold back, she says. I want to say I wouldn’t have confronted him, but I might have thought I could have made him back off on the deal. I think after today, I would have been wrong. You were protecting all of us.

  Relief washes over me and for the rest of the trip, we talk to each other about everything from what we are doing at the time, to what to name our cat and dog. Right up until her plane lands before mine. I shut my computer and I decide I can’t wait. I open my bag under my seat and pull out the velvet box.

  ***

  Carrie

  I stand at the waiting area, watching for Reid and when he appears, looking all kinds of masculine perfection in faded jeans and a black long-sleeved sweater, I swear my heart races a hundred miles an hour. “Reid!”

  The minute his gaze lands on me, my heart sings. It’s then in that moment when our eyes connect, that I can finally breathe. We’re okay. We’re better than okay. He steps up his pace, rounds the posts dividing us, and then I’m in his arms and he’s kissing me, deeply, passionately kissing me. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too. Let’s not do that again, okay?”

  He takes my hand. “Come with me.” He starts walking and leads me around a corner, into a rather empty walkway, where he pulls me behind another wide concreate post. “We’re going to Paris for Christmas. That was going to be a surprise.”

  “I love that. It’s a perfect Christmas destination and surprise.”

  “I was going to wait to do this there, but I need to do it now.”

  My brow furrows. “Do what?”

  He goes down on his knee and pulls out a velvet box. “Will you marry me, Carrie?” He pops the lid on a stunning emerald and diamond ring that has so much sentimental value between us.

  “Yes. Yes. And that ring is so, so very special.” I start to tear up as he slips it onto my finger. “I had it custom-made.” He stands up. “I wanted it to be as special as you are to me.” He cups my face. “I want you to be my wife.”

  “I want you to be my husband.”

  “And then we can live happily ever after,” he says.

  “Just us and a cat and dog.”

  He laughs. “Yes. Just us and a cat and a dog.” He slides his arm around me and we start walking.

  “How about Jig and Saw for names?” I ask. “You know like a jigsaw?”

  “No,” he says. “We are not calling them jig and saw.”

  “Peanut and butter? Like Peanut Butter.”

  He laughs again, and I decide it will be my life’s mission to ensure this man laughs forever.

  The End… for now

  Dear readers:

  Dirty Rich Obsession: All Mine is coming! Carrie and Reid must manage the Japan deal, problems with her brother, both their fathers, Elijah, and Reid’s growing need to protect Carrie at all costs; all while planning a wedding. I can’t wait to share the rest of their story!

  You can pre-order Dirty Rich Obsession
: All Mine today when you visit here:

  https://dirtyrich.weebly.com/dirty-rich-obsession-all-mine.html

  AND GUESS WHAT'S COMING NEXT MONTH!! Don't miss the next release in my Dirty Rich series, Dirty Rich Betrayal coming next month on September 26th! This is Grayson's story, and he has been so much fun to write! You can pre-order and learn more here:

  https://dirtyrich.weebly.com/dirty-rich-betrayal.html

  For now, please make sure you’re subscribed to my newsletter (you can click HERE to do that) for all upcoming news about the Dirty Rich series and new books. And be sure to turn the page for two steamy excerpts from the first book in the Dirty Rich series Dirty Rich One Night Stand, and one of my books in the bestselling Walker Security series: Falling Under!

  xoxo,

  Lisa

  There are a TON of Dirty Rich books forthcoming this year, and into 2019! Be sure you’re up to date on all things Dirty Rich by visiting:

  https://dirtyrich.lisareneejones.com

  EXCERPT FROM DIRTY RICH ONE NIGHT STAND

  “You’re as perfect as I knew you would be,” he says, his voice managing to be both sandpaper and silk on my nerve endings, as he adds, “and almost as naked as I want you to be.”

  The idea that he has wanted me as much as I have wanted him does funny things to my stomach, but more so, delivers an unexpected wave of illogical vulnerability. This is sex. The end. I don’t want or need to feel anything more. I want and need him naked and fucking me now, fast, hard. That’s safe. Desperate to find that safe place, to shift the control from him to me, I push to my toes, my breasts molding to his chest, and press my lips to his lips. They are warm, and he is hard everywhere I am soft.

  And his response to my kiss, the answering moan I am rewarded with, is white-hot fire in my blood that he ignites further with a deep, sizzling stroke of his tongue. He slants his mouth over mine, deepening the connection, kissing me with a fierceness no other man ever has, but then some part of me has known from moment one that he is like no man I have ever known. Which explains why he is everything I want. And nothing about this night is what I expected, any more than this man is anything I can control.

  But there is something intensely arousing about the idea of trying.

  As if claiming I am reaching for the impossible, he molds me closer, his hand between my shoulder blades, his tongue playing wickedly with mine, but I meet him stroke for stroke, arching into him. He cups my ass and pulls me solidly against his erection. He wins this one. Now I am the one moaning, arching into him, and I welcome the intimate connection. I burn for the moment he will be inside me.

  But I also want him to burn for this just as much as I do, and I need to touch this man. Really, really, need to touch him. My hand presses between us, and I stroke the hard line of his shaft. Reese tears his mouth from mine, pressing me hard against the pillar supporting the window again, and when his hands leave my body, when his palms press to the concrete above me again, I sense his withdrawal is about control. I was winning. I confirm that as reality when our eyes lock, and the dash of fire in his eyes is lit by one part passion and one part challenge.

  “If I slide my fingers between your legs right now,” he says, “are you wet for me? Are you ready for me?”

  “Why don’t you find out for yourself?” I dare him, testing him, pushing him.

  FIND OUT MORE ABOUT DIRTY RICH ONE NIGHT STAND HERE:

  https://dirtyrich.weebly.com/dirty-rich-one-night-stand.html

  EXCERPT FROM FALLING UNDER

  “Just to be clear,” he says, his voice low and rough. “I’m breaking every rule I own with you. I don’t fuck women I’m protecting.”

  “You could hand me over to someone else,” I suggest, “and it won’t matter.”

  “Not a chance in hell,” he says, his hand sliding under my hair to cup my neck. “We’ll break the rules together.”

  “I’m not sure I like how you do ‘together’.”

  “I’ll make sure you do,” he promises, his lips slanting over mine, and this time he kisses me like he owns me, like he wants to control me, and like I really am his, like I belong to him, and in this very moment, I can honestly say

  I am. I want him, and I can’t get enough of him.

  And how can it ever be enough when he’s this damn impossibly hot, and he’s such a damn good kisser. The way he makes me want his mouth on every part of me and the way he makes me want my mouth on every part of him. And so, there it is. I’m his, but I’m going to make damn sure he’s mine, too. I kiss him back as passionately as he’s kissing me. I meet him stroke for stroke, arching into him, telling him I am here and present, and I’m not even close to afraid of him or of this. He doesn’t get to control me. He isn’t making me do this. I control me, and I choose him and this.

  Arching into him, his shoulder holster and mine are in the way, and I want them gone. I want him naked. Just to be certain that he knows that’s where I want this to go, my hand presses between us and I stroke the hard line of his shaft. He groans low in his throat, a sexy rough sound that tells me he gets the point. This isn’t his show. It’s ours. It’s us together, or there is no show, with or without our clothes on.

  His reaction is to tear his mouth from mine, his lips lingering there though, as if he wants to kiss me again, and just when I would kiss him again, he leans away just enough to shrug out of his jacket. I take one step backward, and do the same with my blazer. I reach down and pull off my boots and he does the same. Next, we disconnect our shoulder holsters, and the truth is, it’s the first time I’ve ever been with a man who is probably more armed than me. That feels significant when it perhaps is not. He’s not a cop. He’s not that kind of career complication. He’s a Green-fucking-Beret, and one hell of a hot one, for that matter.

  He sets his weapon on the couch and snags my hand, walking me toward him and taking my holster and weapon as he does. “Just making sure you don’t end up shooting me before this is over,” he says, setting it with his before shackling my hip.

  “I told you I’ll wait until after the orgasms.”

  “Careful,” he says, a hint of a smile on his lips again. “I might hold that orgasm and you captive.”

  “You can try,” I say, but my head isn’t in the game in this moment, and somehow my hand is on his face, right by the almost smile, that seems to have complicated what should be sex, an escape, a way to pull back the emotions that umbrella stirred in me. That smile reminds me that Mr. Robot is his wall, his way to cope with death, with whatever makes him protect Jesse Marks.

  He captures my hand. “What are you thinking?”

  “That you have on too many clothes,” I say, before I let this go someplace emotional, somewhere that two people like us never want to go.

  My hands press under his shirt, but he doesn’t immediately give me what I want. He studies me for several beats and then kisses me hard and fast. Too fast, but I get over it when he pulls his shirt off. He cups my face and kisses me, his hand sliding up my shirt, his touch fire that has me helping him pull my shirt over my head. Letting him drag me to him where he now sits on the couch. I straddle him, my bra somehow gone by the time I’m there. But my hands press to his shoulders, and I hold him at bay. “I will still arrest you if I need to,” I promise. “This doesn’t change that.”

  “You aren’t going to arrest me any more than you hate me.” He glances down at my chest, his gaze a hot caress as it rakes over my breasts, my nipples, before his eyes meet mine. “Because you know I’m protecting you.”

  I ignore the ache between my thighs. Or I try. “From what? The slayer or the Jesse Marks damage patrol?”

  His hand slides between my shoulder blades and he molds my chest to his. “Do you really want to talk about Jesse Marks right now? Because if you ask me questions, I’m going to ask you questions when I’d much rather be inside you, giving you as many reasons as I can not to arrest me. But you pick. Conversation or fucking.”

  “Both,” I say, because it’s
the truth. I want answers and I want the conversation my emotions are having in my head to shut up. “Fucking first.” I push away from him and stand up, unbuttoning my pants, sliding them down my hips, and he watches me with that unreadable, robot expression that is admittedly sexy as hell. I press my lips to his and that’s all it takes.

  We are crazy, hot, kissing, his hands on my breasts, my nipples, my neck. I can’t touch him enough. I can’t feel him enough, can’t get close enough, and that’s new to me. I don’t need anyone the way I feel I need this man. I don’t want to need anyone this much, but it’s too late. At least, right here, right now, I do. He rolls us to our sides, facing one another, the wide cushion of the couch more than holding us and the next kiss isn’t fast and frenzied. It’s long, drugging, and somewhere in the midst of his tongue stroking my tongue, I end up on my back with the heavy weight of him on top of me...

  FIND OUT MORE ABOUT FALLING UNDER HERE:

  https://walkersecurity.weebly.com/falling-under.html

  ALSO BY LISA RENEE JONES

  THE INSIDE OUT SERIES

  If I Were You

  Being Me

  Revealing Us

  His Secrets*

  Rebecca’s Lost Journals

  The Master Undone*

  My Hunger*

  No In Between

  My Control*

  I Belong to You

  All of Me*

  THE SECRET LIFE OF AMY BENSEN

  Escaping Reality

  Infinite Possibilities

  Forsaken

  Unbroken*

  CARELESS WHISPERS

  Denial

  Demand

  Surrender

  WHITE LIES

  Provocative

  Shameless

  TALL, DARK & DEADLY

  Hot Secrets

  Dangerous Secrets

  Beneath the Secrets

  WALKER SECURITY

  Deep Under