Kenny (Shifter Football League Book 2)

by Becca Fanning

  “Are you proposing? Now?”

  “Not officially. Do you forgive me?”

  “Not officially,” she huffed.

  “Then let me apologize some more,” he said. He rolled her over and started fucking her, walking that line between passion and dominance. His hands explored her as he watched her writhe in pleasure.

  He pulled her up so she was sitting on his lap and grabbed her hips. They were hot and sweaty and their lips came together as they moved together. He laid back and let her ride him again, watching her breasts bounce as she pleasured herself on his cock. His fingers were digging into her thighs but she didn’t complain. She did grab his wrists and arch her back as an orgasm ripped through her. She screamed his name, her hips rocking against him.

  It was too much for him. The pressure that had been building deep in his groin reached critical. His whole body went rigid, his back arched, pressing his cock deeper inside of her, making her scream again. And then he exploded, filling her even as she collapsed against him.

  Somehow, they managed to find their way back to the pillows and she snuggled up against him. The tussled blankets were kicked away—it was too hot now for covers. He stroked her hair as she struggled to get her breathing under control.

  He kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

  She sighed. “I love you too.”

  Chapter 21

  Gia woke to the sound of running water. It was late afternoon and the nap had done wonders at relieving the stress and exhaustion remaining from the last few days. Of course, the sex had helped too. She was alone in Brock’s bed, which explained the running water, and she stayed snuggled in the sheets, taking the opportunity to look around.

  She hadn’t noticed much on her way in, and she wanted to get a feel for this room, for who Brock was behind closed doors in his most private of spaces. It wasn’t a large room, which surprised her since he was the man of the house—and it was a very large house. He had a simple queen-sized bed on a wooden frame with a plain wooden headboard and a matching dresser. The carpet and curtains were a dark gray-blue. The bedding was white and teal. Everything was neat and clean. There was a painting on the wall opposite the headboard, a three-foot by four-foot unframed canvas of a pine forest in winter. A stag peered out from between snow dusted needles. It seemed out of place in the New Orleans heat, but it matched the room perfectly.

  The water shut off and Brock came back, dressed in a towel.

  “Does every bedroom in this house have an en suite bathroom?” she asked.

  “No, just this one and the master bedroom,” he said. He crawled in next to her and kissed her tenderly. “An old house like this always has too many bedrooms. I had the guest room next door converted into an en suite bathroom.”

  “You don’t use much of this place, do you?”

  “My room, the kitchen, my office,” he shrugged. “I have a condo in New York for when I’m there on business that’s not much bigger than your place. As a bachelor, I’m more comfortable there, honestly. But I can’t sell this place. It’s been in the family too long.”

  “You’d be crazy to sell it—it’s amazing.”

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Do you still want to talk?”

  “The sex didn’t get my point across?”

  “Oh, the sex was fantastic, and I got the impression that you’re going to be pretty possessive of me.”

  “No more than you seem to be of me,” she replied.

  “Fair enough. Do you have any ex-boyfriends drifting around that I can scowl at?”

  “Yes, I do—and no you can’t. They haven’t come back to haunt me. What about you? Any other girls I have to chase off?”

  “No. There weren’t very many serious ones over the years.”

  “Good, then that’s all settled.”

  He rested his cheek against the top of his head. “Does that mean we’re an item now?”

  She snuggled in tighter against him. “What about work? What about the papers? We have to keep things professional.”

  “Damn professional straight to hell. I’m resigning anyway. And Marsha will be back soon. I want you, and nothing is going to keep me from you again.”

  She sighed and rolled her eyes. Between this and the mid-sex almost-proposal it was obvious he was hopeless. “You’re so romantic.”

  He chuckled softly.

  “Do you have any plans today?”

  “Nothing that can’t wait. Except maybe food.”

  “Food would be good,” Gia agreed. “I wanted to go down to the hospital to see my dad.”

  “Food first,” Brock said. “And then I might just take you again. And you’re welcome to use the shower before you go.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” she said, stretching to kiss him. “Do you have something I can just toss on since you tore my dress?”

  “Did you bring a bag?” he asked, suddenly feeling sheepish. “I don’t think you want to go to the hospital in my clothes.”

  “No I didn’t bring anything,” she said. “But you have a car and you know where I live.”

  “Fair enough.”

  There was a police officer at the elevator when Gia got on and one when she got off—and a third outside her father’s door. She could see other officers down the hall posted outside the rooms of the wounded terrorists. She forced a smile and produced her ID. The officer nodded and opened the door for her.

  Her dad was sitting up in bed staring at the TV. “My name isn’t on the news yet,” he said. “But I see the officer outside my door. He’s not here for my protection, is he?”

  Gia shook her head. “You’ll be arrested for funding domestic terrorists as soon as you’re better.”

  “A cracked rib takes time to heal. Why didn’t Brock leave me for that wolf?”

  “Because you’re human, because he thought you were an innocent victim, and because you’re my father.”

  Father examined daughter and then shook his head. “You’ve fallen in love with him, haven’t you?”

  “I think so. I know I trust him completely.”

  “Unlike me.”

  “Unlike you.”

  “What’s going to happen to the business?”

  “There will be a board meeting tomorrow, but I suspect they will vote to remove you as CEO of the company. They’ll have to or risk losing contracts and clients. If our stocks fall then we’ll be bought out.”

  Giancarlo was nodding.

  “And you?”

  “You’re still alive, so technically I just work there. If you had died I’d inherit all your shares and…”

  “That’s easily taken care of. I’ll give you the shares. That will make you the majority shareholder, not me. At least then they can’t completely remove you from the company.”

  “You’d hand me Carosa Holdings?”

  “Better than letting the board decide what to do with it. I’ll do my time and then retire peacefully on whatever remains of my fortune. You’ll do better out in the business world than I ever did. You’re smarter.”

  “I won’t argue with you there. How are you doing, physically?”

  “Cracked rib, concussion, a few stitches on my arm, otherwise I’m good.”

  “We’ll have matching scars,” she said.

  “So we will. Hand me a piece of paper and I’ll write something up for the stock transfer. Your mother will be pissed that she doesn’t get half of that—if she decides to divorce me for this stupidity.”

  “Is she threatening to divorce you?”

  “Not yet, but I guess it all depends on how romantic she thinks being married to a convict is. I’ve only got myself to blame. I’m just sorry that I got you mixed up in all this.”

  He was looking for forgiveness. Gia could see it on his face, that hopeful, pleading look in his eyes. Maybe one day, but not now, not while the pain is so fresh. “I’ll see you at the trial, probably,” she said. She held up the paper. “Thanks for this.” She turned her back on his hurt expression and
walked out.

  Someone knocked at his office door and Brock got up to answer it, still listening to the phone at his ear and saying “Uh-huh,” at appropriate times. His face broke out in a smile when he saw Marsha in the doorway and he ushered her in.

  “Uh-huh, I understand completely. If that’s how the council feels, then I guess my hands are tied. No, I understand that, but I know when I’m beat. Yes, I’ll be there. Thank you.” He hung up, tossed the phone on the desk, and hugged Marsha. “I am so happy to see you. How was the flight back?”

  “That is one lavish jet,” she said, laughing. “I may want to transfer and become your personal assistant at Tandell Corporations.”

  “I need you here.”

  “Do you need someone to save you from the dreaded temp?”

  Gia came in with a folder. “Oh, you bet he does.”

  He cringed. “Don’t call her the dreaded temp. She’s going to make me pay for that for the rest of my life, I just know it.” He winked at Marsha and said, “Marsha, this is Gia Carosa, my temporary assistant and current girlfriend. Gia, this is Marsha, my assistant, advisor, and very dear friend.”

  The women shook hands. “I’m sorry I bailed and left you to deal with this whole Human Order mess,” Marsha said. “I heard you got shot.”

  “A flesh wound,” Gia said. “I think the scar will make me look tough. I’m glad you and your family are safe. When are you starting back to work?”

  “Monday?” she said. “Or sooner… What would you prefer?”

  “Why don’t you start now,” Gia said, “And I’ll work until Friday. That gives us a few days to get you settled in before I abandon you to deal with him.”

  “He can be a handful,” Marsha said, nodding.

  “Especially after a full moon. You’ll basically be acting mayor that day.”

  “That was one time,” Brock said. “And I’m right here.”

  “So you are,” Gia said. “I’ll take Marsha to get all her security stuff, and then you’re taking me out for lunch.”

  “Why am I doing that?”

  “Because we have business to discuss. Actual business, so don’t get any ideas.”

  Marsha leaned closer to Brock and loudly whispered, “I like her.”

  “So do I,” Brock said. “Go on. I’ll see you two later. I have work to do.”

  He took her to her favorite sushi place and ordered the teriyaki salmon. She laughed. “You know that’s not actually sushi, right, because it’s cooked.”

  He shrugged. “Apparently, I’m not a fan of sushi.”

  “We could have gone somewhere else.”

  “I may be a steak and potatoes kind of guy, but I don’t actually mind fish. I just like it cooked. At least when I look like this I like it cooked.”

  She laughed and then popped a sushi roll in her mouth.

  When she was done chewing, he said, “So what’s this business that couldn’t wait.”

  “Well, you are looking at the new CEO of Carosa Holdings.”

  “Congratulations. We’ll have to celebrate later.”

  She blushed, which was exactly what he’d intended. She cleared her throat. “So, as one CEO to another, I have a business proposition for you.”

  He sat back in his seat and crossed his arms, lunch momentarily forgotten. “Okay, I’m listening.”

  “Carosa Holdings is set to face a major loss as soon as the police release my father’s name. Not even the fact that he is no longer associated with the company can prevent that. I told the board I could secure a buyer who would take the business, in its entirety, offering the complete staff of every single one of our subsidiary companies job security after the merger, including the upper management of Carosa Holdings itself. I also told the board I was confident this buyer would take the company at value instead of waiting for the stocks to drop.”

  “An entire corporation, on the table for merger, with no restaffing costs? So Carosa Holdings would become a sub-corporation for this mysterious buyer? He’d be foolish to refuse.”

  “I’m glad he feels that way.”

  “Me?”

  “Do you know any other billionaire business men who might like a new partner?”

  His voice dropped to a possessive growl. “If you think you can do business with someone else…” He stopped when he realized she was laughing at him. “I guess I need to come and speak to your board of directors?”

  “Might be a good idea.”

  “And you’ll insist on overseeing this branch of my company?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then it looks like we have a lot to celebrate. Maybe we should book the afternoon off and let Marsha hold down the fort.”

  “Sounds tempting, but I should train her a little more before I abandon her completely. Why don’t you take me to Restaurant August tonight and then we’ll go back to your place to celebrate?”

  “Done deal.”

  Epilogue

  “There’s not enough room for my clothes in your room,” Gia said for the hundredth time. This argument had been ongoing the entire time she’d been selling her condo and her furniture in preparation for moving in with him. “Unless you plan to turn one of the other adjacent bedrooms into a walk-in closet.”

  “I’ll do you one better,” Brock said. He led her down the hallway to the room where he’d had the movers leave all her boxes of clothes. He opened the door to reveal the master bedroom, newly redecorated to suit her tastes which were less floral print and more modern elegance.

  The room was large enough for a king-sized bed, two full dressers, and a large vanity. There were two doors in the side wall, one leading to an en suite bathroom, the other to a walk-in closet.

  “Oh Brock, it’s wonderful.”

  “It’s your wedding present,” he said. “My things are in the tall dresser and one side of the closet. I’ll let you get your clothes and such tucked away however you like.”

  She caught his hand and pulled him into the room with her. “I think I’d like to say thank you first.” She led them tumbling into the giant bed.

  They made all the local papers, the local and national wedding magazines, and the local and national business magazines. It wasn’t every day that two wealthy corporate leaders got married, after all. But for all the media hype the ceremony was surprisingly small. Brock surprised her by introducing her to his extended family, a handful of aunts, uncles, and cousins—a few of whom were shifters. Gia’s family was very large since her mother was of Spanish decent and her father was Cajun French. But outside of family there was Marsha and her family, Brock’s clan, a few of the local werewolves, and a few key business associates from the private sector and City Hall. Even her father, out on special leave with a tracking bracelet hidden beneath his pant leg, was able to attend and walked her down the aisle.

  Gia wore a slimming dress of white satin with a floral lace veil over her hair. She looked elegant, classic, and demure. The wedding parting wore a lovely pale green—satin dresses for the ladies, green dress shirts with black ties and jackets for the men.