by Nicole Snow
Gary. I start to open my mouth to ask my mom again if she's really into him, but something stops me.
Who am I to judge her love – if that's what's really going on here? I don't dare follow Ty's twisted logic and assume the two tied the knot for pure self-interest.
“I'll be up in a little bit,” I tell her. She gives me a friendly nod and heads upstairs.
I'm not sure how to feel about being babied like this either. Not gonna lie – after last night, it's kind of nice, seeing how I'm feeling like crap and I'm still a hot, sticky mess after listening to my step-brother and his girl.
The shower feels good. It's cool, rejuvenating. I scrub the fancy body wash and salts into my skin. For a few glorious seconds, I almost think it'll let me help wash away last night's shameful eavesdropping.
Upstairs, there's a nice spread of food left by the housekeeper, Joan. I eat a bagel and some fruit, making small talk with Mom. When it's time to go, I grab my keys, my purse, make sure I've got my phone, and then I'm out in the huge garage.
That's when I'm hit right between the eyes by another surprise. My car is gone.
I spin around and almost run smack into my mother. “Jesus, Mom, you're never going to believe this.”
Mom gently pushes me back outside and follows me, setting a hand on my shoulder. “What? That you've got a hot new ride to go with the job?”
No fucking way.
The shiny new hybrid sedan sitting in the space where my beater was parked is worlds away from anything I expected to drive in the next five or ten years. My knees don't want to work as I walk up to it and get a good look.
It's the sexy, polished kinda vehicle you'd expect a billionaire's daughter to drive. Bitter shock forms a lump in my throat. I think I'm going to be sick, keel over and hit the floor, if my goddamned heart won't stop racing.
“Well? Do you like it, Claire?” Mom's right behind me, whispering excitedly in my ear. “Gary sends his compliments.”
I spin around and we lock eyes. Her smile melts a little when she sees the crazed expression no doubt plastered to my face. “Gary? This was him? You...you shouldn't have done this.”
“Nonsense. I thought it was a wonderful idea. If you want people to respect you, dear, you need to go to work in something that says you've already taken a piece out of this world.” She holds up a small Washington keychain with a couple keys and a remote attached. “Here's the keys. Catch!”
My hand darts out just in time to keep it from slamming on the hard cement. I'm still standing there in my best business blouse and pants, acting like an indecisive moron.
“Claire?”
“Mom, it's just...it's so fucking weird.”
She gives me a stern look. “Language. You'd better watch that before you get to the office. Now, honey, we both meant to surprise you. That's part of the fun. But if it's going to interfere with your performance, I can drive you myself...”
“No. I'll take it. I just don't like the idea of owing this guy you married anything.”
Mom belts out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, Claire. He's not buying your loyalty. He's not buying anything except a better future for his new daughter. Baby, this is pocket change for him, no different than you or I buying a bottle of nice wine. He's done you a favor. Don't worry that it took a lot out of us or anything like that. If we can easily build a better life for ourselves, our whole family, why shouldn't we?”
I don't have a good answer.
That's it, then. This is the new normal. Staring me in the face with its shiny coat of paint and souped-up leather interior.
“Mom...” I don't even know what to say except the obvious. “Thanks.”
“You're welcome, honey!” she leans in, giving me a tight squeeze. “Gary will be home tonight. You can thank him later. I want you to stop worrying or feeling guilty about this, baby. You drive down there and blow them all away. If you start to impress them today, you'll own anything you want tomorrow.”
Wow. I haven't seen Mom in full “inspire me” campaign mode since her last re-election, but today, she's beaming. Full of wisdom I'd brush off as rhetoric if there were anyone here besides me she were trying to impress.
We exchange one more smile and then I'm in the unfamiliar car, backing down the driveway. The newness smells so amazing. It's clean, pure, a good match for everything else in this strange new life. Everything except the asshole I can't stop thinking about.
I crank the car's satellite radio high as soon as I'm past the guard shack. The station plays some of my favorite rock songs, a welcome distraction that helps keep Ty out of my brain on the forty minute drive to the Cascades Now! headquarters.
It's near Arlington, a little ways north of Everett and Seattle, south of Bellingham. It's nice not having to fight the city traffic driving up from our old place in Tacoma. Yet another reason to love the new house, as weird as it is.
The office doesn't look like anything special. It's simple, small, about what I'd expect for an environmental lobby. I step out of the car and fumble with the remote, making sure the new car's locked.
Maybe Mom is right. Today's mine. This life's mine.
I don't have to let anyone get in the way – not even some ginormous muscle head who keeps me up fucking with nothing but a wall between us.
That evening, there's a knock on my cubicle wall. I swing my chair to see a tall, lean guy in a nice gray suit holding several manila folders.
“First day on the job, and you're already showing us we've been stupid not to hire a girl who knows Congress sooner.” He steps inside my space as I flash him a smile. “I'm Dan. Office manager while my dad's hobnobbing in DC.”
“Oh, you're Mister Jacobsen's son?” I'd been wondering where the older man who'd interviewed me had gone.
“Guilty as charged. Listen, Claire, I don't tell every new girl I'm impressed, but I really mean it here.” He opens the folder in his hands and starts flipping through it while he's talking, obviously excited. “I mean, hell, if we can get half these groups on board, we'll double the funding we need to fight the new business center going up on fifteen hundred acres of prime Cascades wilderness.”
I clear my throat and mumble an apology. Half the business project's financing is from none other than my brand spanking new step-father. Talk about a conflict of interest.
I don't even know how to approach the subject with my new boss. I'm in no hurry, either, despite the way I know it'll cause a collision sooner or later.
Dan adjusts his glasses and cocks his head at me. Damn it. I'm a terrible liar, and even worse at covering my tracks.
“You're not worried because your mother just re-married one of the corporate jackasses we're taking to task, right?” He gives me a knowing wink.
Fuck. I'm more than a little relieved he's being so nice about it, but I'm not sure my poor heart can handle any more excitement today. There's been plenty of that the last couple days, and I could really use a break.
“Oh, Mister Jacobsen, I'm sorry. I didn't know whether I should bring it to your attention or just –“
He holds up a hand. “Please, call me Dan. Claire, you've got nothing to worry about. Have you met your new neighbor, Eddy?”
I glance over the wall next to me toward his desk. Yes, the portly middle aged guy introduced himself as soon as I sat down. Seems nice enough.
“I'm sure old Eddy didn't tell you he's Governor Lambert's nephew, right?” I hear my neighbor laughing uncomfortably through the wall.
My eyes go wide. The former Governor leveled more Washington wilderness than anyone before him thanks to some special contracts with his corporate buddies, as I've learned from my research. My new employer is still reeling from the aftermath, trying to turn back the clock on the mess he created.
Dan steps close to me and leans in. I get a big whiff of the spicy cologne he's wearing like a second skin. “We keep that on the down low around here. Eddy's one of our best, and he's got nothing to be ashamed of. Just wanted to let you know, Claire. We
care about your work, your ethics. Nobody else's. I don't care if your mom married a robber baron, and neither does Pops.”
I sit up straight, trying not to beam. I've got to hand it to him – he's just lifted about a hundred pounds off my shoulders.
“I won't disappoint you, Dan. I'm here to learn everything I can from this organization. If that means going toe-to-toe with some family interests...well, I'm game.”
“Keep it up, and you'll be on our permanent staff before you know it.” He leaves the folder behind for me and starts to head out, giving me one last wink.
I turn back to my computer, head abuzz with all sorts of things.
Despite the thick glasses and the even thicker cologne, he's kinda cute in a trim, geeky way. He just doesn't make my heart race like –
Damn it. There you go again. This isn't healthy, I think, warning my rebellious brain. You've got to stop thinking about him. Pick up some earplugs on the way home.
I'm totally serious. I'll sleep with plugs in my ears and my phone curled up to me on vibrate rather than hear Ty fucking his latest conquest again.
I still can't believe how he took her. They were at it for hours, smacking lips and twining flesh, rocking the bed springs so hard I swore they'd break.
Jesus. I can't stop thinking about him. And yeah, I definitely can't believe my own filthy desperation, the way I was drawn to the wall like a magnet, rubbing myself to bliss while they fucked.
It's not just that he's crude, arrogant, and he's treated me like trash every time we're together. He's totally off limits. There's something horribly addictive about it that warms my blood.
If I can't control the heat surging through my veins every time I think about Ty Sterner, then I need to make sure I never, ever act on it.
One kiss almost unraveled everything. And if there's a second kiss, or – God forbid – we go further, I'll never live it down. I'll ruin myself and this whole screwed up family.
No man's worth my reputation, I keep telling myself. Not even one who looks like a Prince and talks like a convict. Especially not a man with a brutal knack for invading my every waking second.
Later, at home, I eat a quick dinner with Mom and Gary. They ask me all about my internship.
Gary doesn't even mention the new car until I do, and then he brushes it off like it's nothing. I know he's a billionaire, but my brain has a hard time reconciling my strange new reality.
We talk about my job, Alaska, the times the Vice President made a drunken ass out of himself at the private parties Mom attended in DC. Anything light and positive, really.
Everything except Ty, who's conspicuously absent.
I'm digging at the last of my garlic potatoes when I get the stupid idea to ask about him. “So, uh, where's big brother?”
Mom freezes up and Gary's laughter over the VP's secret antics goes dead silent. His lips pull tight in what resembles the world's most uncomfortable smile.
“Forgive me. I'm afraid my son hasn't given up wasting his days on practice for those barbaric fights he loves. I doubt we'll see him until tomorrow.”
Gary's obviously had a lot of practice making excuses for Ty. All the zen-like cool in the world doesn't keep me from noticing how hard he stabs his fork into his next bite of steak.
Mom saves the day by going back to DC, telling us all how grateful she is to be taking some time away from that God forsaken place. I laugh along with my parents, but I'm not sure whether to believe her.
She never talks about her campaigns until they're imminent. For all I know, I'll be wearing a pretty dress and taking time off next year to stump for her Senate seat.
Ugh.
It's a joy when Joan comes in to clear away the plates and serve coffee. I take mine downstairs in a big mug, asking for decaf. I've got to be careful to allow myself more time tomorrow morning, before I'm due back at the office.
By eight o'clock, I've taken my shower, and there's no sign of Ty. I cuddle up in bed with a book, more tired than I realize. I slip into a sleep that doesn't break until my phone wakes me up at dawn.
I'm almost dressed and ready for breakfast when there's a knock on my door. I walk over and jerk it open. Standing in front of me is the Asshole-in-Chief. Shirtless, ripped, and heavily inked. The snarling tiger on his chest matches his expression.
“Here. You asked me about the shit I do, and I'm gonna give you a chance to find out. I've changed my mind about this crap between us – I want us to have an understanding.” He pushes a little scrap of paper into my hands. It's a small envelope.
I'm at a loss for words. I always am, except when he's digging his fingers into all my buttons. It's hard not to stare at the towel around his waist, knowing he must be naked without it. Naked and standing in front of me like it's just another normal brother-sister visit.
Ha. Ha ha awkward ha.
“Ty,” I say his name, and he cuts me off instantly.
“Just look at what I gave you and decide what you wanna do, Sis. I've already forgotten the shit that went down between us. It's ancient history.”
He turns and starts walking to his room. I'm too stunned to talk until it's too late, and the magnificent view of his strong, grabbable ass moving beneath the towel doesn't help.
“Wait!” He slams his bedroom door shut.
There's no sign he heard me, or cares to listen if he did. I gently close my door and begin tearing at the envelope.
I see a date and time – Saturday night. The place – Club Zing. Also, something sensational about blood being spilled, a knock down drag out fight for a good cause, and all the gloves coming off. There's a small glittery ticket with the words VIP stamped on it.
Heaven help me.
4
Knock Out (Ty)
I knew something was wrong when I fucked the hell out of Maggie and woke up feeling like I hadn't gotten pussy for a week.
No, adding a second or third chick to my debauchery wouldn't have done shit. Neither would heading down to the gym and knocking the shit outta my favorite punching bag 'til my arms go numb.
It's her, goddamn it. Little Miss Perfect.
Sister. Bitch. Stranger.
Addiction.
Maggie milked my dick dry, and I couldn't even focus on her. My balls wouldn't blow 'til I imagined Claire under me, biting her soft little lip and digging her nails into my back.
Fuck, that lip. I wanna sink my teeth in. I'd kill a man to bite that soft, rosy flap of flesh. And if I told you what I'd do to plant my cock between her legs and slap my balls off her ass, I'd probably be captured and tried for war crimes.
Shit, shit, shit.
My head pounds like a fucking junkie all day while I take a good, hard run along the family's shore. I run for miles, up and down the coast, letting it rain all the fuck over me.
Running's always been a good cure for a lotta shit. Just not this. My knees burn and my heart pounds like it's gonna bust, but I still can't stop thinking about her.
Christ, I'm hard as granite even while I'm running. I don't think it's possible to see Claire in my mind and stay soft. Not unless I've fucked her, the only thing in the universe that'll put me outta this misery.
I hate losing control, and I really abhor being strung around by a wet daydream.
I lost my goddamned mind on that run. I lost it to her.
Sweat poured down every inch of me, my skin overheating despite the seaside coolness. By the end, I'd lost my clothes and I was completely naked. I had to strip to keep from self-combusting.
Yeah, running naked gives my old man one more scandal to sweat. By some miracle, none of the assholes out on their yachts noticed a nude guy with tats jogging like a maniac up and down the ten mile stretch of prime Pacific coast. And I kept running too, plowing the sandy beaches 'til my toes hurt like they were stepping on glass, watching the ocean devour the setting sun.
I must've been out all fucking night, feeling the chill wafting in from the sea. It wasn't good for me at all with a fight coming up this
weekend, but I had to try something. My options are running really fucking thin since I told Little Miss Perfect to fuck off and keep her distance.
I was pissed at her, sure, and now I'm even more pissed at myself for trying to cut her out. I thought I could forget. Since our last fight, I've tried every damned thing I know to scrub the little Sis I never wanted from my crazy skull.
Predictably, nothing fucking works. Nothing that doesn't involve my raging dick getting a full rough introduction to her sopping wet slit.
By morning, a twisted sorta peace has fallen over me. I know what I need to do.
There's no choice but to fish the ticket outta my pocket I was gonna give Maggie. I made up my mind while I was taking the longest, hottest shower of my life, trying to blaze away the ocean cold and get my body's thermostat back to human range.
I stuffed it in an envelope and marched it to her door without looking back.
She stared at me like I had a second goddamned head growing outta my neck when I shoved the envelope in her hands. Her eyes were all over me, big and beautiful and disbelieving. I had to be careful to suppress a smile.
Wasn't easy keeping my eyes off that prissy office blouse on her either. Shit, even now, I can't stop thinking about lifting up her skirt, ripping off her top, and bending her over the nearest desk for a fuck that'll teach her a thing or two about my business end.
I'm haunted. I'm obsessed. I'm fucked.
Of course, she didn't say a word. Barely had time to stammer in that cute and infuriating way she does. I didn't wait for her to get anything out. I pushed what I came to deliver into her hands, then slammed my door shut and stewed 'til I was sure she was gone.
Now, I'm looking at the ruins of my life, and coming to the grim conclusion I need to fuck this girl. I'm done without finding out how tight and hot she feels riding my cock. I can't fight, can't function, can't even settle into my own house with her one wall away. I can't be happy getting my dick wet in other chicks, not when I know the best piece of pussy I'll ever have in my life's right next door.
