Unbreak My Heart (Rough Riders Legacy Book 1)

by Lorelei James

  She swayed against me and I automatically righted her by latching onto her ass.

  My hands were rough, so I kept my touch light on the delicate fabric of her dress as I skimmed my palms up her back. When I reached her shoulders, I ended the kiss and whispered, “Turn around.”

  Her teeth dug into her bottom lip as her eyes met mine. Then she faced the bed.

  I slowly tugged the zipper on her dress down. I slipped my hands beneath the fabric as I peeled it away, planting kisses in a line down her spine until my lips connected with the section of skin between the dimples of her ass.

  Then her dress was a pool of red fabric on the carpet.

  She hadn’t worn sexy garters and stockings, just a fire-engine red thong. So I could see every sexy inch of her. From the nape of her neck, to the curve of her ass, down her long legs to the backs of her heels, still encased in sexy black stilettos.

  Fuck. She was just so beautiful.

  Her body trembled. From the cold or my intense perusal…didn’t matter. I’d warm her up soon enough.

  I swept her hair off to the side, letting the hot wash of my breath choose the spot on her neck before my mouth descended. While I tasted her there, I continued to caress her with my fingertips, my palms, and the backs of my knuckles. Everywhere I could reach; her arms, the outside curve of her body from her rib cage to her hips, her belly, her breasts, her collarbones.

  She didn’t speak. She didn’t have to; I was already attuned to her. I felt every quiver and every goose bump. I heard every ragged breath and every tiny sigh. I caught the scent of her arousal and breathed in the perfume of her skin.

  This deliberate seduction of her was intoxicating me.

  A sheen of sweat coated my skin beneath my uniform. My cock was painfully hard. My chest felt tight. I had to lock my legs to keep myself upright. I’d become lightheaded from all the tactile and emotional sensations bombarding me.

  Then Sierra trapped my hand on her hip and turned back around to face me. She allowed one fleeting brush of her lips across mine before she began to undress me.

  Her hands were reverent as she smoothed them over my uniform. She had me unbuttoned, unhooked and undone in no time. Then she stepped back and watched as I removed the last of my clothing until I was as naked as she.

  We reached for each other at the same time.

  We ended up on the bed. Not in a frantic tangle of limbs. But bare arms and legs slowly sliding and gliding together. I needed every inch of her skin touching every inch of mine. Rubbing on mine.

  I spooned her from behind so my front side covered her back. Then we rolled across the sheets so I could feel the soft press of her tits against my shoulder blades as her hands mapped the front of my body from my face to my neck to my chest to my cock.

  I rolled her onto her back and levered my body over hers. Not in a pushup position, but my weight on her, my passion-dampened flesh sliding on hers. Exchanging breath with openmouthed kisses.

  She reached between us and guided me to her entrance.

  I pushed inside her warmth, her heat, her wetness until I couldn’t go any deeper.

  I watched her face lost in pleasure, and part of the pleasure came from seeing her recognize the look on my face mirrored hers.

  Our bodies arched and moved together almost of their own accord. I didn’t lead. Neither did she.

  We were in perfect sync.

  The rising storm, the waves crashing and then hitting that crest, followed by the ebb and flow of passion, all clichéd, but true.

  In that moment she’d reminded me exactly what it meant to belong to her, body, heart and soul. And I reminded her that her heart, her body and her soul were safe with me.

  With the help of Red Bull, I survived my mid-afternoon Monday slump.

  Which turned out to be a lucky thing because Phyllis Mackerley showed up.

  Even when it was probably stupid, I remained behind my desk and had her sit across from me. I needed every confidence boost no matter how small. The tug of war between take the job and decline the job had started to feel like a stalling tactic to increase the perks.

  That wasn’t it at all—and I told Phyllis as much.

  “You don’t even need to clarify that for me, Sierra.”

  “Thank goodness.”

  “But what I am about to tell you will sweeten the pot.” She grinned. “Or more accurately, will make the pot runneth over.”

  I squinted at her. “Did you and tequila have a reunion and a little afternoon delight?”

  Phyllis giggled. Giggled. “I’ll admit I do feel almost high right now.”

  Okay.

  “Ask me why.” She fairly bounced in her chair. “Go on.”

  “Why are you so giddy?”

  “I had a phone call from Pashma Wickersham this morning.”

  “Get out. Seriously?”

  “Seriously. And she called me.”

  “Tell me, dammit. Was she headhunting you or what?” That wouldn’t surprise me. Phyllis was brilliant and generous and exactly the type of leader that an organization like Women Entrepreneurs International—WEI—wanted on their roster. Pashma Wickersham, the president of WEI, had outstanding accomplishments in the decade she’d been at the helm of the organization. The founding members of PCE had used the WEI business model and we’d embraced Pashma’s philosophies for business and life.

  “No, dear, she wasn’t headhunting me.” Phyllis grinned. “She’s headhunting you.”

  “What?” I must have misunderstood.

  “Or more specifically, WEI has been watching PCE for the last year.”

  “They have?”

  “Yes. And they would like to bring PCE in as a charter.”

  “No way.”

  “I absolutely would not joke about this.”

  “Omigod, omigod, omigod!” I pushed my chair back and jumped up and down a couple of times. I might’ve screamed.

  Phyllis was laughing at me. “I knew you’d react this way! Isn’t it just unbelievable?”

  “Yes! This is huge. WEI doesn’t have any charters in Arizona. And the cities that do have a WEI charter? The members have access to the WEI database, their speaker’s bureau, their conferences, not to mention the whole financial side and the worldwide networking.”

  “I know. I’m in shock. This is beyond anything I could’ve ever hoped for, Sierra.”

  “Me too.” I lowered into my chair. “But why us? Isn’t the vetting process done by the CIA or something?”

  She laughed. “No. But it is very thorough and like I said, they’ve tested PCE a few times.”

  “Tested. Like how?”

  “From what Pashma told me, WEI sends a new potential member to PCE for guidance with a marketable product. How things are handled at each stage earns a rating. If the first test is failed, there are no others. If the first test is passed, then two more tests are conducted, a product with limited marketability and one that isn’t viable at all. Evidently honesty earns the highest value points. PCE passed all three tests. We passed the requirements for a well-run, well-organized meeting that is welcoming to new members yet continues to be relevant to existing members. We show continued membership growth. We have a variety of mentors across age, race, cultural and educational backgrounds. In fact, PCE had the highest test values of any charter in the past four years.”

  I could scarcely wrap my head around all of this.

  “And that is what brings me here, Sierra. If you accept the directorship of PCE, you will in effect also be the chair of the WEI charter.”

  “Holy fuck.”

  “Not a bad thing to have on your resume at age twenty-three.”

  All of a sudden I felt like I was suffocating. This was too much. This was the big leagues. The big, big leagues.

  “Sierra,” Phyllis said sharply, “look at me.”

  I raised my gaze to hers.

  “You can do this. I never would’ve agreed to mentor you or offered you the directorship if I didn’t believe that
you’re more than capable.”

  “Can I be brutally honest?”

  She nodded.

  “I don’t feel like I’ve earned your confidence. I don’t have that confidence in myself.” I briefly closed my eyes. “I poured everything I’d become into PCE because of my early success. I wanted to make sure it’d been more than just a fluke. Or luck.”

  “Sierra McKay. Flipping six pieces of real estate and netting over a million dollars in profit is not a fluke. You invested in your friend’s business and put her innovation into production. Yet you understood the finite timespan for ROI and adjusted accordingly. You still personally netted a quarter of a million dollars—which was thirty percent of the gross receipts—and then you turned around and leased the patent. That wasn’t luck. You created a business model that worked.”

  “It worked from inherited capital,” I reminded her.

  Phyllis narrowed her eyes at me. “Because you inherited the money that somehow lessens the success you had increasing the principle? Because you didn’t earn that cash waiting tables you’re not allowed to put the money your family earned…to work for you?”

  “God. I hate that you’re so fucking logical.”

  She laughed. “Never discount your successes. Trust me; there are plenty of other people who are more than happy to do it for you.”

  “True. I’m just a little…torn.”

  “I suspected that. Can you be specific?”

  “How can I hope to foster a productive work environment at PCE when I can’t manage it here?” My cheeks burned with embarrassment. “If I can’t achieve results here at DPM, why do you have faith that it’d be different for me at PCE?”

  “Maybe you’re stymied here by a number of factors that you aren’t even aware of.”

  I’d heard that before. From Rory.

  “But the reason I’ll put all of my faith in you, Sierra McKay? You fostered the work environment at PCE. You didn’t inherit it and all its problems from other managers. You built it, you nurtured it, you created it from the ground up. Maybe that’s easier to do than stepping into someone else’s vision, figuring out what’s wrong and having to right it. I truly feel you cannot compare the two entities. That means you’ll have different levels of success—one for each of them by default.”

  I burst into tears.

  Phyllis let me cry. She tracked me down a tissue. She gave me the there-there pats I needed.

  After I wiped my eyes and blew my nose, I looked at her. “It’s overwhelming. In a good way. I’ve been beating myself up about this for a month and now I feel like a weight has been lifted. Thank you. You have influenced me more than any person besides my father. If I’m ever half as good of a mentor as you, I’ll consider myself blessed.”

  She reached for a tissue. “Silver-tongued little thing. Thank you.”

  “So now what?”

  “You’re officially agreeing to take the directorship of PCE?”

  “Yes.”

  That felt…good. Damn good.

  “We’ll announce it at next week’s meeting. They’ll put it to a vote, but you won’t get any opposition because everyone admires you and sees you as the future.”

  “They do?”

  “Yes. Last piece of business, and this is a biggie. WEI requires the director of the charter to go through an orientation process. To learn all aspects of WEI from the ground up. To network with every chapter. That is key. That global network is the glue that holds the organization together.”

  “Okay. That won’t compromise my responsibilities running PCE?”

  Phyllis smiled. “I love that you asked that first thing. No, it won’t. You’ll have a liaison while you’re traveling and I’ve volunteered to do it for the year you’re in orientation.”

  Everything inside me stilled. “Maybe you’d better go into a little more detail about this year-long orientation.”

  “Your schedule for the first year will be networking focused. That means a considerable amount of travel. I’ve been told not to expect you to be in the PCE offices more than five days a month.”

  “Only five days a month?”

  “But just think where you’ll be the other twenty-five days. Anywhere from India to Pasadena. Doing everything from listening to tips on securing international financing to giving seminars on finding your niche in the marketplace.”

  I heard what Phyllis said, but above it in a high-pitched panic tone, I heard Only five days a month? Only five days a month? Only five days a month?

  What the hell had I agreed to?

  My brain immediately started a war.

  This is the opportunity of a lifetime. One year is nothing.

  No. She withheld crucial information about the travel schedule because she knows no sane person would agree to that.

  No sane person with a life or a family or in a serious relationship.

  Then it sort of clicked.

  As far as Phyllis knew, I had none of those.

  Except…now I did.

  How could I tell Boone I was taking off for a year when he’d requested the Phoenix program because I lived here? Would he think I’d taken the job as some kind of revenge?

  This is why you should’ve talked to him about it.

  “Sierra?”

  I refocused on Phyllis. When had she pulled out a contract? I glanced at it, then at her.

  “It’s just a statement of intent,” she explained quickly. “Not a big thing.”

  “Then you won’t care that I don’t sign it until I’ve had my attorney look at it?” I said coolly.

  That surprised her. “If that’s what you prefer. But it is an unnecessary step.”

  “I always err on the side of caution. You taught me that.”

  “I also taught you to accept things at face value.”

  A standoff.

  Not what either of us had wanted.

  Phyllis gathered her things. “I’m so glad you verbally agreed to take the position, Sierra. I’ll let the folks at WEI know and I’ll be by later in the week for additional discussion.”

  I watched her walk out.

  I’m so glad you verbally agreed to take the position, Sierra.

  If I backed out and pushed my point that a verbal agreement isn’t binding, I’d lose any credibility I’d earned.

  If I backed out, I wouldn’t be welcome in PCE—a business I’d poured my blood, sweat, tears, heart and soul into.

  But I didn’t want to back out. This was an opportunity any woman in business would kill for. This wouldn’t ever come along again if I didn’t take it now.

  And what about Boone? Are you willing to sacrifice what you’re just building with him?

  If the situations were reversed he wouldn’t worry and fret over taking the next step in career advancement and fulfillment. He’d just do it. He’d do it without asking for your opinion because he’s done it before.

  But things were different then.

  The more I obsessed about it, the more I…had no freakin’ clue what I should do.

  Eventually I decided my only option was to talk to my dad.

  In person.

  I told myself I wasn’t running from my problem when I booked a flight to Wyoming.

  I hadn’t heard from Sierra in thirty-six hours and I’d started to get worried. Especially since she’d acted weird and distracted the last time we’d spoken on the phone.

  Lu claimed she hadn’t talked to her for two days either.

  I didn’t want to worry her dad so I didn’t reach out to him. I just hoped her sister would answer a call at seven a.m. from an unknown number.

  She picked up with, “This is Rory McKay.”

  “Rory? This is Sergeant Boone West.”

  “Ooh, don’t you sound all official and big-time army guy. So why are you calling me, Sergeant Boone West?”

  “Have you heard from Sierra?”

  A pause. “You haven’t?”

  “Not for a solid day and a half and that’s not like her.”
<
br />   “Well, I saw her last night as a matter of fact. She’s in Wyoming. She’s staying at the cabin.”

  Immediately my heart slammed into my throat. “What the hell is she doing… Dammit, did something happen to Gavin?”

  “He’s fine. She didn’t tell you she was coming home?”

  “No. I’ve been in Fort Hood the last two weeks. She flew down for the weekend and I took her to the airport on Sunday. I talked to her Monday night. Me and my roommate left at fifteen hundred yesterday and we’ve been driving straight through to Phoenix. Sierra hadn’t returned any of my calls, but she didn’t say anything this weekend about going to Sundance.”

  Rory sighed. “It wasn’t something she planned. It was last minute.”

  “Why?”

  “Why should I tell you?”

  I’d expected her to protect Sierra; I just hoped I could convince her I only had Sierra’s best interests in mind too. “I appreciate that you look out for her and that you’re her sounding board. But if you’ve talked to her, you know that everything is good between us. I know that she’s not running from me. You know that she’s not running from me. So please tell me what she is running from so I can help her, okay?”

  A beat of silence passed. Then she sighed. “Fine. You know she’s having some issues at DPM. It’s to the point where she has to make some hard decisions.” She paused. “Did she tell you any of this?”

  “Some. But I can tell by the careful way you’re phrasing things I’m missing several pieces.”

  “You are. I don’t know whether to be annoyed with her or you.”

  “Be annoyed with her. I knew something was on her mind but she wouldn’t talk to me about it no matter how many times I asked her, so tell me what’s going on.”

  “Did you know that Sierra was offered the directorship at PCE? Fulltime with pay and everything?”

  I grinned. “She was?” Her face lit up whenever she talked about the work she did with the organization she helped found, so it would be a huge coup for her career. “Why would she keep that from me?”

  “She’s independent and feels it’s her responsibility to make her own decision. I’d guess a lot of her attitude stems from her mom, but I won’t play pop psychologist. But the other thing is Sierra hadn’t said yes. I mean, she was wrestling whether to take the position. She’s fiercely loyal to her father.”