Fulfillment (Book 3 in The Temptation Series)

by K. M. Golland

  I dropped my gaze to his hands which were now placed at the base of his cock. Mmm, I love watching him take hold of himself, his large hands clenched tightly around his shaft. Stop it, Alexis. Torture, torment, tease—remember? He slowly began to pump himself as he watched my hands explore my own body. I let out a moan for him and he growled in response. So I brought my finger to my mouth again, licked it and went to insert it back inside me when he grabbed my hand.

  “Are you going to back the fuck off?” I asked with a smile.

  He paused, while gently gripping my hand. Then, with his sexy-as-hell smirk, inserted my finger back inside me as far as it would go, making me gasp against his mouth. You sexy fucker, I hate you. He slowly pulled it back out and placed it in his mouth, making me shudder. Damn it! He slowly slid it out again, kissed the tip of it then placed it upon his chest over his heart.

  He leaned in and put his forehead against mine. “I will never back the fuck off where you are concerned. You are my everything and will remain my everything for as long as I walk this earth.” He grabbed my face and kissed me passionately then reluctantly pulled away. “Now, as much as I like to watch you please yourself, quit it. It’s my fucking job to bring you undone and mine alone.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I hated giving in to Bryce, or more to the point, I hated giving in full stop. But when the man of my dreams had me pinned to the shower wall, telling me that I was his everything and always would be and explaining that it was his sole responsibility to bring me undone, then who was I to argue?

  I grabbed his head and vigorously pulled it forward to mine so that I could taste the inside of his mouth. He groaned wildly and lifted me up, indicating I should wrap my legs around his waist—and like always, I happily obliged.

  He gripped my arse as he held me perfectly in place to penetrate me with his glorious cock, forcing my eyes to close and my head to tilt back as he slid inside me. Then pressing his lips to my neck, he pulled himself out to the tip and slammed back in again. I gasped at his sexy ferocity, causing him to stop and pull back.

  “Shit!” He went to set me down. “Was that too hard? Are you okay?” he asked with concern.

  “Hey. I’m fine.” I searched his panicked face.

  “I’m sorry. You just make me fucking wild.”

  I grabbed his hair, yanking it back and forcing him to look deep into my eyes. “Don’t you dare go all soft on me, I’m fine and no, it was not too hard. So stop worrying and fuck me. Fuck me hard, and do it now.”

  His eyes lit up as he laughed. “You’re killing me, you know that right?”

  “The feeling is mutual, trust me.” I leaned in and kissed him, which very quickly turned hot and desperate again as he re-entered me and slammed his cock in to the hilt.

  I could sense a very slight hint of hesitation on his part, but I didn’t say anything. He obviously had concerns, and I could see he was trying to overcome them where he could. Plus, I was more than overflowing with sexed-up hormones and probably putting far too much pressure on him.

  He continued to drag his length out to the tip then slam right back in again, until my nails were digging into his shoulder and my body was shuddering against him. He too jerked, as he reached his own release while gripping my arse with one hand and steadying himself against the shower wall with the other. I moved my hands to his head and wiped the wet strands of hair from his face so that I could see his piercing blue eyes as he came down from his climax.

  “How did I get so lucky?” I asked.

  “I never used to believe in luck,” he said as he smiled and regained his breath.

  I traced my fingers around the edges of his face, studying his perfect profile. I was now curious and a little bemused as to why he wouldn’t believe in luck. “Really? Why?”

  “I used to think luck suggested you had no power over it. I believed that we—ourselves—controlled the probability of our fortune and misfortune. But...I had no control over you applying for a job at my hotel, so how can I continue to believe there is no such thing as luck? I’m the fucking luckiest man on earth, and you being here, naked in my arms, against my shower wall and carrying my baby is fucking proof of that.”

  ***

  Bryce and I showered properly after our argument and subsequent compromise-sex. Come to think of it, I don’t recall a compromise having been reached. If I recalled correctly, he seemed to have gotten his way—as per usual.

  We both headed to our desks, having no choice but to get stuck into the pile of work that awaited our attention. It was Easter this coming weekend, and all three hotels were pretty much fully booked. I could see with my own eyes just how much work was involved in the running of the City Towers Precinct, but to have numerous hotels around the world and plans for future development in other countries was simply mind boggling. I knew Bryce had a large number of very capable employees running his hotels abroad, but at the end of the day, Clark Incorporated held his name and he was very much involved in all its’ entirety.

  I had plans to pick the kids up from school, as I wanted to drop by my old home to collect the last of my things. I hadn’t slept there for nearly two weeks, and I did not plan on sleeping there again. Rick was coping just fine, as far as I was aware, having accepted our separation and coming to terms with the fact our marriage was over. Sadly, we weren’t the best of friends anymore, and unfortunately, I didn’t think we ever would be again. There was just far too much betrayal and hurt for that. But so far, we were civil and supportive of each other in our new lives, and we were there for one another, especially where the children were concerned.

  ***

  I drove my Ford Territory into my driveway, having chosen my car over Bryce’s collection for its rather generous storage capacity. I had to collect the last of my clothes, shoes, toiletries and a few things that I wanted from around the house. I unlocked the door and stepped inside.

  The house was clean and tidy, an indication that Rick really was coping and moving on with his life. I smiled at that notion then put my bag and keys down on the buffet like I had for many years—second nature, I guess.

  Rick and I hadn’t yet discussed dividing our assets, and as terrible as it was, we just hadn’t had the time nor the desire really. I had pretty much everything I needed at the apartment and Rick...well...he had five million dollars in his bank account. So, dividing up our bits and pieces was not a priority for either of us. To be honest, I didn’t want the material things; I couldn’t care less about the TVs, couches, caravan and household furniture. What I wanted were the things that held sentimental value to me, the things that made me smile and had happy memories.

  I made my way to the spare room, pulling out a suitcase and dragging it toward my old bedroom when Claire walked out. We both screamed simultaneously in shock, not expecting each other to be there.

  “Geezus! Fuck! You scared the shit out of me,” I said as I put my hand to my chest and looked her up and down. I quickly took note that she was wearing one of my dresses together with a towel wrapped around her wet hair.

  “Shit! Sorry, you scared me too,” she answered with an instant blush of awkwardness across her face.

  “Are you wearing my dress?” I asked—or more to the point—accused.

  She looked down at the dress and then back up to me. “Um...yes. I didn’t have anything else to put on.”

  I don’t really know what came over me at that point. All I remember was seeing red—as in screaming bloody murder red. I could only imagine it looking like I was a bull in Pamplona’s infamous running of the bulls race and Claire one of the shit-scared runners. I basically chased her out of the house, steam surging out of my nostrils, and if I’d had horns like one of those bulls, I could guarantee you they would have pierced the bitch’s arse.

  After yelling at her to get out of my house, shoving her handbag into her chest, snatching back my towel and slamming the door in her face, I started angrily packing up everything I could see. How dare she come in here and st
art wearing my clothes, eating from my fridge, showering in my shower and more than likely sleeping in my bed. Bitch!

  I grabbed all my clothes and shoved them in the suitcase. I picked up every last bottle of perfume and every toiletry that I could find. I grabbed my photo albums, pictures from the walls, potted plants, and even my KitchenAid and Aldi coffee machine. I stomped around the house looking for things I couldn’t bear for her to touch—like my decorative couch pillows. Okay, so I only paid five dollars each for them at K-Mart, but they were pretty and I liked them, and I was not about to leave them there and let her get comfortably cosy with them. Fuck her. I forcefully squished as much as I could into my car and took off to pick up the kids from school.

  ***

  Nate and Charli had been excited to see me waiting for them when the bell rang. But my presence at the school probably made the whole gossip-about-my-love-life problem worse, as I was clearly in a feral mood and my car was noticeably filled to the brink with all kinds of shit. One could have easily mistaken me for living out of my car, and I’m sure the rumour mill would soon reflect that.

  Tash and Steph had asked me what was wrong, but I was in no mood to elaborate, so I promised them I was fine and that I would soon have them all over for coffee and a tour of my new home.

  ***

  My mind was miles away as I drove toward the city, thinking about Rick, Claire, my house and the fact I now wanted to speak to my lawyer—who just happened to be my old boss. Charlotte had been talking non-stop about her friend Addison’s sleepover party that was in a few weeks’ time. I hadn’t really been listening to much of what was coming out of her overzealous mouth when my phone rang.

  The Bluetooth feature in my car automatically answered it.

  “Hello,” I answered out loud.

  “Hi, beautiful—”

  “Hi, Bryce,” interrupted Charli.

  “Charli!” I snapped. “Don’t interrupt.”

  After a moment of silence, Bryce’s voice came through the speaker again. “Alexis, is everything all right?”

  I didn’t normally yell at Charli for something as minor and innocent as simply saying hello and Bryce was fully aware of that. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m just tired and I have a headache and—”

  “She’s been busy packing our house up into this car,” Nate interjected, looking at the lamp shade that was poking over the back seat.

  “Right. Where are you?” His tone seemed softer and somewhat concerned.

  “I’m about ten minutes away,” I answered. “I’ll see you shortly.”

  “Okay, Hunny. But pull over if your headache gets any worse, and I’ll send someone to come get you.”

  He hung up.

  I put my hand to the bridge of my nose and sighed. “Charli, I’m sorry for snapping. Mummy’s head is killing her.” I looked in the rear-view mirror and smiled apologetically.

  “Well, you should tell it to stop killing you.” She rolled her eyes, as if that was simply the cure to a headache.

  “Duly noted, Sweetheart.”

  ***

  I pulled into the basement carpark where Bryce was standing, waiting for us. He eyed the visible contents of my car as I stepped out and closed the door.

  Charlotte ran up to him and hugged his waist.

  “Hi, Charli. How was school?”

  “Good. I start swimming lessons tomorrow. Do you want to come and watch?”

  He looked slightly shocked at her invitation. “Sure. I’d love to come,” he smiled. Charli looked over at me then motioned for Bryce to lean down so that she could whisper in his ear. Whatever she had said to him provoked a smile to appear on his face, piquing my curiosity.

  He winked at her then spoke to Nate. “Mate, can you take Charli up to the apartment? I need to speak to your Mum in private for a minute.”

  Nate nodded, and both the kids stepped into the elevator.

  When the doors closed, I wasted no time in questioning him. “What did Charli say to you?”

  “She told me to make sure your headache didn’t kill you because she loves you, and if it tried, could I please kill it first.” He raised his eyebrows at me, and I smiled guiltily. “Are you feeling okay? How bad is your headache? Do I need to kill it?”

  I smiled and scoffed. “It’s just a small one. I’m fine.” I lied. I didn’t want him hauling me over his shoulder, bundling me into the Crow and flying me to the nearest hospital.

  I turned around and opened up the tailgate to my car. Three bags and my couch cushions tumbled out onto the ground. “Shit.”

  “What’s all this?” Bryce asked dubiously, obviously sensing my fragile state.

  “My stuff,” I hissed ever so slightly.

  “Hunny, there’s a vacuum cleaner in there.” He leaned in and pulled it out.

  I could hear a very small hint of amusement in his voice, which helped snap me out of my ridiculously angry mood. “I know. It’s my Dyson. It’s a good vacuum.”

  “So I’ve heard...but...we have house-keeping. So...you...don’t...really need it.”

  I turned around to find him cautiously smiling at me. “I know,” I conceded “I just didn’t want her to touch it. These things are mine. I worked for them, I chose them, I used them; they are mine, not hers.”

  “Hers?”

  “Claire’s. She was at the house when I showed up. She was wearing my dress and had just taken a shower. I got angry and went a little crazy.”

  “Oh,” he smiled, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around me.

  “I’m not angry at her for being there with Rick. Really, it’s not that at all, they can have each other, I honestly couldn’t care less. It’s just...I don’t know...those things were mine, are mine, and...and...she can get her fucking own. Anyway, I’ve decided I need to see my solicitor. I’m going to make Rick pay me out for the house—.”

  “You don’t need to worry about money, Alexis. What’s mine is yours.”

  “It’s not about the money, Bryce. I know you want to share what you have with me, and I will let you do that eventually. It may take me some time to get used to, but with that time, I’m sure I will get used to it. No, this is more about...and I know this is petty...but,” I sighed and slumped into his chest. “It’s just...he doesn’t deserve to get everything we both worked for all our life. It’s a matter of principle.” I blurted out, shrugging out of his grip to pick up my cushions. I brushed them down. “Some of this stuff is special and stupidly sentimental, and yes...some of it is obviously just downright stupid, I get that. But what I want to do—what I need to do— is see my lawyer and change my will, divide our assets and put final closure on Rick’s and my life together.

  “I know we have to wait a year before we can get a divorce, but finalising these things first will help give some form of separation and maybe help me deal with it all a little better. I have been civil to him, and I have been pleasant. But it is getting increasingly hard to keep that shit up.” I closed my eyes, willing the throbbing in my head to dissipate. “If it weren’t for the kids, Bryce, I would have unleashed hell upon him. I think I just need the formality of separation from Rick as his wife. Maybe that will help with my building anger.”

  “It’s not petty, Alexis. If that’s going to make you feel better, then do it. It’s your call; your decision.” He turned his back on my car so that he was facing me. “Speaking of changing wills, you should know that I have already changed mine. I don’t want you to ever have to worry about any of that.”

  I looked at him, shocked. “What do you mean you have already done that?”

  “I had a meeting with my lawyer the day after you told me you were having our baby, and I sorted it all out.”

  “Oh.” I nodded, warily. I don’t know why I was dubious, it sort of made sense he would do that. I guess I just didn’t expect him to do it that soon.

  “What’s this?” he asked holding up a lop-sided ceramic mug.

  “It’s mine.” I snatched it from him while smirking. “I mad
e it in high school.”

  “It’s lovely,” he said sarcastically.

  My mouth dropped, and I smiled at his audacity. “Shut up. It’s art, kind of abstract.” I rotated it in front of me, secretly thinking my statement was bullshit.

  He picked up a photo of me and the kids which had been taken on my birthday the year before. “When was this taken?” he asked, as he studied the photo. “I like it.”

  “Last year, on my birthday.”

  “I’m keeping it,” he said matter-of-factly, continuing to look through my stuff.

  “Get out. Stop touching.” I playfully shoved him out of the way then gathered up a few things. He too grabbed my suitcase and a few things more. The rest I would come back for later.

  ***

  The elevator doors opened to the apartment, and as I stepped out, the sight before me had me frozen with fear.

  “Alexis. Bryce. Finally, I’ve been waiting for you.” Gareth or Scott—I’m not really sure who and I didn’t really care—had been sitting on the sofa casually chatting away to my children. How the fuck did he get in here?

  Bryce stepped out in front of me. “Gareth, what are you doing here? Who let you in?”

  He gestured to Charlotte. “This beautiful young lady here did.”

  My heart literally plummeted to the ground. Charli-Bear, how could you be so stupid? You know about stranger-danger. Like every parent, I had explained to Charlotte that talking to a stranger, let alone letting one inside your house was extremely dangerous. Obviously, I hadn’t done a very good job of it.

  “Gareth, in my office! Now!” Bryce said sternly.

  “Now wait a minute. You don’t need to be like that. I’ve come here to take my meds in front of you just like you asked me to. I’ve been doing it every day like you said.”