I pull her aside on a warm afternoon while we’re out by the pool, sitting down so our feet can be cooled by the water.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yep,” says Sophie, who sets her turtle down and watches him scuttle into the water and start paddling around.
“I mean, like, are you okay with everything?
She shrugs. “Yep. I know daddy tried to protect me from seeing what Julianne was really like and what she thought of me, but I knew a long time ago. I think he wanted to fix her for me, but I never wanted that. Does that make me a bad person?” she asks with a sudden sincerity. “I didn’t want him to fix her. I didn’t want to forgive her. Not ever.”
“No,” I say carefully. “I think it’s your right to decide who you forgive and who you don’t. Sometimes people can really suck. You can think you know them and they can surprise you in the worst ways. When that happens, I think it’s okay to decide not to forgive them.”
“Are you talking about Jake, too?” she asks.
I laugh, surprised, as usual, by how perceptive she is for such a young girl. “Maybe, yeah. Maybe a little.”
“Thank you,” she says. “You’re always honest with me,” she says the last sweetly and casually, kicking her toes in the water and watching the waterfall trickle down the rocks leading to the pool. “Aubrey?” she asks.
“Yeah?”
“When you and daddy get married, would it be weird if I started calling you mom?”
Tears well in my eyes and a smile pulls at my mouth. I put my arm around her shoulder and she rests her head against me as I let the tears fall down my cheeks. “No, sweetie. I would love that.”
Epilogue
Three Months Later
Aubrey
Liam let me pick all the details of our wedding and even though I knew we could have had some kind of extravagant affair, I chose to keep it simple. Having our ceremony on the little beach where Liam proposed for real is perfect. We took a family cruise to get back to the Keys, and it was every bit as special as the first time, if not more-so. Linda McCroy and Jake were notably absent this time, which, I have to say, was a clear improvement. The only new addition to our party is Donna, who is sitting across from me in one of the ship’s dining halls. Liam is coordinating some sort of super secret with Sophie and Roxanne that I’m apparently not allowed to know anything about, so Donna and I have the afternoon together, just like old times.
“Donna,” I say, looking at the plate in front of her. “You know no mortal being could possibly eat that much food, right?”
She scowls. “Hey, have a little sensitivity, brat. My best friend is pregnant. Do you have any idea how hungry that makes me?”
I smirk. “At least you still consider me your best friend,” I say, instinctively pressing a hand to my slightly swollen belly. It’s still early and I’m not really showing, but I can feel the beginning of the bump forming. I’m in the awkward stage of pregnancy where it just looks like I’ve taken up a sudden ice cream eating hobby and don’t plan to slow down.
“Why wouldn’t I?” she asks before shoving a mini tuna sandwich in her mouth.
“I don’t know, because I don’t spend as much time with you anymore?” I ask.
“Girl,” she says, swallowing her mouthful. “First of all, I’d bitch slap you for implying we’ll ever not be besties, but you’re pregnant, and if I have one rule to live by, it’s to never hit a man with glasses, a pregnant woman, or a person in a wheelchair--I mean, unless it’s your scary mother-in-law, because I think she could take a bitch slap like a champ.”
“That’s big of you,” I mutter.
“Secondly,” she says, raising her voice to drown me out. “If you were spending as much time with me as before even though you are sleeping next to the billion dollar cock--”
“Please don’t talk about Liam’s cock,” I say, smirking.
“Aub,” she says dryly. “This is purely hypothetical cock. I’ve obviously never seen the thing, but if you wanted to fill me in with a description, maybe a police sketch or something so I know what we’re dealing with--”
She stops short when I lob a wet noodle at her forehead. It bounces off and lands on her plate, leaving a smear of italian dressing on her forehead. She raises her eyebrows, looks down at the noodle, pops it in her mouth, and then wipes her forehead. “Well,” she says in a falsely dignified voice. “If I had known I was going to have lunch with a chimpanzee, I wouldn’t have bothered to wear pants.”
“All I’m saying,” I say, “is that I’m really happy we’re still friends. Best friends,” I add.
“Me too,” she says, looking down at her plate with a grimace. “You might have been right. This was way too much food. Why didn’t you stop me? You know I can’t be trusted to make responsible decisions when this much food is involved.”
I grin. “That’s part of being your mommy,” I say sweetly. “I’ve got to let my little girl make her own mistakes and learn from them.”
“Oh, you’re my mommy now?” asks Donna. “Because I make a special exception for hitting family members who wear glasses, are pregnant, or are in wheelchairs.” She stands up quickly, rushing toward me.
I run away, laughing and not caring that everyone in the dining hall is staring at us as she chases me around, catches me from behind, and starts play slapping my cheeks while I try to kick free.
Liam
I stand on the beach where I proposed to Aubrey and it’s exactly how I remembered. The day is warm and sunny even though it’s November. I told Aubrey she could have whatever kind of wedding she wanted, and she wanted it to be here, with as few people as possible. I only brought Sophie and Roxanne, while she just brought her friend, Donna.
I stand beside the pastor, who wears casual clothes as he holds his bible, smiling as we wait for Aubrey to emerge. Donna waits a little ahead of me in her bridesmaids dress, waiting patiently.
We had a tent set up by the rocks for her to make the final touches to her hair, makeup, and dress. We also had a beautiful wooden archway set up where flowers are hanging. Sophie drew a little path in the sand for Aubrey to walk from the tent to where I’m waiting for her, and she lined the entire path with the shark teeth she found.
Aubrey took my breath away the first time I ever saw her, and she takes my breath away now when she steps from the tent. Her brown hair is done into curls that bounce over her shoulders as she walks toward me, smiling wide. She wears a simple white dress that looks impossibly beautiful on her, and I swell with pride when I see the slightest bulge in her stomach and know our baby is growing there.
Before Aubrey can walk by herself toward me though, Sophie pushes my mother’s chair beside her and starts to follow Aubrey down the path. Aubrey takes my mother’s hand and smiles down at her, tears brimming in her eyes as she realizes my mother is standing in as her family member and “giving her away” to me. I thought it might make today more special for her, and it seems I was right.
My mom stops her chair a few yards away from me and Aubrey leans down to kiss her cheek. Sophie and my mother hang back a little, watching and smiling as the pastor begins the ceremony.
He walks us through our vows while we hold hands and gaze into each other’s eyes. When he asks Sophie to come forward with the ring, I’m surprised to see two rings in her hands. She looks uncertainly to Aubrey, who smiles back at her, clearly confused about what’s going on. The pastor gives a knowing smile to Aubrey and my mother though.
“Aubrey,” says Sophie, holding up a simple silver ring. “When you marry my dad you’re kind of marrying us,” she says, motioning to my mother. “And I think some kids might be mad about that, but um--” she fumbles with the ring and holds it out toward Aubrey. “Grandma and I are really happy, and I wanted to give you something because we say yes too.”
Aubrey bends down and hugs Sophie tightly, letting the tears fall freely from her cheeks. When she pulls back, Sophie slips the ring on her finger and hands me Aubrey’s wedding ban
d before going back toward my mother, whom she high fives discreetly.
The pastor motions for me to put the ring over Aubrey’s finger. We say our “I do’s” before we kiss, and then we have a small dinner with the five of us. It all passes in a blur of smiles, laughter, and happiness. It’s a kind of happiness I never thought I’d find. A happiness I never thought I’d deserve. And every time I look at the woman beside me, I know I’m the luckiest man alive, because nobody should deserve to have the life I have now, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to give any of them up.
43
Punished
I have a dirty little secret.
No guy has ever been able to get me off.
They try. They fail. They leave. Rinse and repeat.
Until I met Logan Steel.
Until he punished me.
Prologue
She’s already glistening wet for me. My Kitten.
I grip the leather paddle in my hand, dragging the edge down her spine slowly so I can watch goosebumps form in its wake, rippling across her milky soft skin.
“You’re mine,” I say. “But you know that already, don’t you?”
She moans softly, arching her back and pushing herself toward me imploringly.
I smirk, wanting nothing more than to plunge my rock hard cock into her warmth, but that would be too easy. She has been hiding something from me. I’ve been seeing the signs for weeks now, and I’ve given her long enough to tell me on her own.
“You don’t get to keep secrets from me,” I say, lowering my voice. I pull the paddle back and she tenses. I bring it down. Whack! She jolts, sucking in a breath and letting it out slowly with another soft moan. A bright red circle forms on her ass. Beautiful. I caress the heated mark, basking in her response to my touch. My voice is a whisper in her ear. “It’s your choice. Tell me now and I’ll give you what you came here for. Or you can keep hiding the truth from me and we’ll start every session this way.”
She turns her head slightly. I can see just the tip of her pert nose and her long eyelashes. “I’m not hiding anything, Sir,” she says. There’s a tone of defiance in her voice that makes me clench my teeth and grip the paddle tighter. She turns her head to look toward the wall again, clutching the sheets tighter in her fists to brace for the paddle.
I smirk. Fine by me. She can drag this out as long as she likes, but I’ll get what I want in the end. I always do.
44
Logan
Two weeks earlier
“Mr. Steel?” asks a hesitant voice.
I look up to see my new secretary poking her head into my office. I gesture roughly for her to hurry up and come in. She straightens her skirt and noisily crosses the distance to my desk. Click. Click. Click. Her cream colored heels look uncomfortable, and there’s no way the tight pencil skirt she wears isn’t cutting off her circulation. She sets the file on my desk, making sure to lean forward enough that I could have an eyeful of her cleavage if I wanted.
But I’m not in the mood. She’s not my type, for starters, and the last thing I need right now is to get entangled in another relationship that could hurt the image of my company. I’ve spent too long trying to fix the public’s opinion of me to throw it away now. A few years ago I might have taken her up on her obvious offer, adding fuel to the public’s opinion of me as a playboy billionaire. I was young, successful, filthy rich… and filthy between the sheets.
Eventually, my business partners started to wonder if I was taking the company seriously. The fuckers tried to maneuver behind my back to take my own company out from under me. Their mistake. I left every last one of them in financial ruin. No mercy. No regrets.
Now, I trust very few people. There’s my little sister, and my business partner, Dean. That’s it. Everyone else can go fuck themselves as far as I’m concerned.
“Sir?”
The secretary has worked her way around the side of my desk and I can smell her perfume. It’s nice, but she’s wearing too much. She’s trying too hard, and I can practically hear her heart thundering in her chest.
I snatch the thick envelope from her hands and let it flop loudly in front of me. I temple my fingers in front of my forehead, breathing out my frustration. It’s not her. It’s this week. Hell, it’s this year. My patience has been pushed too far. I can feel myself on the verge of snapping. “That’s all,” I say, forcing a calmness into my voice that I don’t feel.
I turn in my chair, looking out the floor to ceiling windows lining the back wall of my office. The view should be beautiful. I can see the entire city laid out before me. From up here on the 92nd floor, I can imagine it’s all mine. In fact, a lot of it is mine, but the realization brings none of the pride I thought it would while I was fighting and clawing my way to the top. For as long as I can remember, striving for more was enough. It was what got me out of bed in the morning and what helped me fall asleep at night. I knew I attacked every day with an intensity most men can only dream of, and I knew no one was better at this than me.
I hear the click of my secretary’s heels and the door closing gently behind her.
I huff a humorless laugh as I turn back to my office, taking in the opulence on display. “Living the fucking dream,” I mutter to myself dryly as I open the manilla envelope the secretary brought. I only need to read the first few words on the thick packet to know what it is. More of my ex-wife’s bullshit. I scan through the first page and realize she’s trying to get money out of me again. I guess the last check I cut her has dried up already.
I flip through the pages of the document, knuckles turning white as I unconsciously grip the armrest of my chair. The lines keep referring to “the Newbury family” as potential recipients of the money they are seeking. Family. When I think of what she did to me, my reputation, and most of all to our unborn son… Fuck. It’s no wonder I have anger issues. I slide the packet to the side, making a mental note to deal with it later.
It’s not like me to put something off, but today would have been his birthday, if she hadn’t…
I sigh, shaking my head. It figures she would serve up some bullshit like this today of all days. I stand from my desk, sliding my arms into my jacket and adjusting my tie. I make my way through the empty office. Everyone else has gone home for the night. I’ve always been last to leave. Some might call it a point of pride, but it’s just how I operate. I have always out worked every last fucking person I’ve met. Nobody puts in more hours or more effort than me. That’s why I am where I am. I take my dreams by the fucking throat and beat them into submission. Maybe that’s why I don’t like the way they look when I finally reach them.
I have a missed call from my sister, so I call her back as I pass through the darkened office. She picks up as the elevator dings and I step inside.
“Hey, loser,” she drones.
I smirk. Nothing like my sister’s perpetually sarcastic and dry personality to cheer me up. “What is it?” I ask.
“Oh, I just wasn’t feeling depressed enough so I decided to call you. I can always count on you for bad news.”
I raise my eyebrows, only slightly surprised that my sister’s intuition is so accurate. “Lana is trying to get three mil out of me this time.”
“Shit,” says Olivia. She has a talent for cursing. She draws out the word, twisting it around her mouth so it sounds like the most filthy and black thing ever to pass through a human’s lips. I can practically picture her balling her fists, wanting to hit Lana. I’m not the only one in the family with a quick temper, and the thought makes me grin.
“Before you ask,” I say, stepping into the lobby on the ground floor. “I’m still not giving you her address. The last thing I need is her murder on my conscience.”
“You can afford any lawyer you want. Just sue the shit out of her for a change, Logan.”
“Yeah,” I say sarcastically, “And give her the excuse she has been waiting for to take her bullshit public and ruin me? I’ll pass.”
Olivia sighs heavily. “
Bullshit is the right word. I know you would never do any of that shit she said you did. Let her try to lie about it. The truth will come out.”
“Right,” I say distractedly. I know my little sister just wants to help, but I still have to meet Dean and I have a long night ahead of me. “Look, I need to go. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Asshole,” she says, but I can picture her crooked smile as she says it and hangs up.
I step outside to a gust of wind. The cold November air bites straight through my suit coat and dress shirt, but it fits my mood just fine. A few years ago, this would have been the kind of mood that sent me prowling for a woman to slake my thirst. I would’ve buried myself in her for the night, teasing out her every need and desire, bringing it to life. Dominating her. Then Lana happened.
I met her at a BDSM club and we had a healthy sex life. We had clearly defined boundaries. I never pushed beyond her limits and she loved every minute of it. Until she got pregnant. She was on the pill and it was a fluke. I never thought I wanted kids, but as soon as I knew it was like a bomb went off, rocking me to my core. I wanted to meet my son. I wanted to be a father. I wanted it so badly it hurt.
After that, things are like a blur. I’ve thought about it so much the memory has gone dull, like an old polaroid that has been handled so much the ink has faded. I remember having yelling matches about it. But I never touched her. I never hurt her. We couldn’t agree about the baby, so she went to the club where we met and found some deranged asshole to beat her bloody. She had pictures taken to document the abuse and then claimed it was me., Then she ran off and got an abortion at some shady fucking place over the border where they don’t keep records. She took my son, and uses her bullshit evidence to squeeze money out of me whenever she wants more. According to her, she has enough evidence to bring me down and send me to prison overnight.
The Bodyguard: A Navy SEAL Romance Page 32
