by Alexis Anne
It gave me an excellent view of the woman I knew, but didn’t. Rosalind? I rolled the name around a few more times and sanity began to sink in. I went back to my research. William was the oldest and very involved in his father’s empire while the daughter was the mystery. No matter what research I did, how deep I dug, all I came up with was her name. Rosalind. She didn’t work for her father, seemingly had no digital footprint.
Perhaps that was because she used a different name altogether.
I slid my phone out of my pocket and pulled up the file I’d pulled together for tonight. Since there was so little on the daughter she was a footnote on the last page.
Rosalind Esmeralda Nicolai Brown, 30, occupation unknown, location unknown.
Below that was a blurry picture from the ‘90’s, but knowing now who it belonged to? It was most certainly a much, much younger version of Esme.
Since I had no other helpful information, I slid my phone back into my pocket and made mindless conversation with the people beside me. An investment banker on my left and another agent from Prime Management on my right.
The whole time I watched Esme. She sat quietly. Answering questions from her brother and Marie, but no one else. She looked uncomfortable and nervous. Now that I was past my shock it was easy to see that it was more than her clothes that were different. The confident, easy going, needy woman I took to my bed was gone, replaced by a wary woman. On the defense. Someone ready to attack.
It got my hackles up and this warm—no, fiery—sensation began to boil inside me. For some reason it made me want to sit even taller than my six-foot-two frame. I watched everyone, ready for what? I didn’t know.
Esme tensed as a tall, well-dressed man strode into the room and stood at the head of the table. The room fell silent and I finally understood why Marie, Esme, and everyone else didn’t like Edmund Brown.
He was evil.
You could feel it in the air, see it in his eyes. He was one of those people you just knew on instinct wasn’t right. I resisted the urge to grab Esme and run for the nearest exit.
“Good evening. Thank you for joining us tonight. I’m Edmund Brown.” He gave a small wave of his right hand and forced a smile that looked completely unnatural onto his lips. It came out more like a snarl than an actual smile, like someone had told him smiles made people feel more comfortable. It was a tactic I used all the time—introduce myself, make a deprecating joke, smile warmly. It put people at ease and made them feel comfortable around you, even when they didn’t know you.
I was neither at ease nor comfortable right now.
If anything, I was very, very not at ease.
“As the new owner of the Renegades I wanted to introduce myself to the community of professionals I’d be working with now that we are based in Tampa, and to give you and opportunity to meet me and my family.” He turned to his right. “My son William Brown is Vice President of the Brown Global Corporation and will be very involved in the day-to-day operations of the team once we’re fully integrated.”
William stood, doing the practiced tie-tuck and half bow. His smile was genuine, his laugh forced, but pleasant. “It’s very nice to meet you all. I’ve enjoyed the conversations I’ve had so far and look forward to getting an opportunity to meet the rest of you personally before the end of the night.”
He returned to his seat as Edmund turned to his left and held his hand out to Esme. “And my daughter, Dr. Rosalind Brown. Her team involvement will be minimal as she is busy working with the university.”
Esme bristled and her eyes brightened with an angry fire.
Interesting.
“However,” Edmund continued, “as a member of this family, she will be involved.”
More fire.
She didn’t acknowledge her father’s statement and I saw that exact same fire ignite in Edmund’s eyes. They might not like each other—or rather, they might hate each other—but they were most certainly father and daughter.
Edmund rumbled on about Renegade dynamics, team building, and the future, all while salads were brought in and placed before us. Marie was right, Edmund was using every buzz word in the book short of salary cap and contract negotiations. Those words he, mysteriously, managed to leave out.
We would have our work cut out for us in the coming weeks.
“Now, please enjoy the first course,” he said as he finally sat.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Esme. Rosalind. Esme. She barely touched her food. She ignored the man beside her completely. My god she was beautiful. That was a simple truth that plagued me no matter how hard I tried to turn my attention back to the dinner and the people beside me. I couldn’t shake the desire to run my fingers through the dark silk of her hair, wrap it once around my hand and make a fist. I couldn’t ignore the flashes of soft skin that tickled my memory, or my need to run over it once again, to grab her hips and sink inside her.
I swallowed an enormous gulp of bourbon, shook my head, and forced myself to ignore her full red lips. I would not get another ring around my cock tonight so why even bother with the torture?
It was a full dinner with every course imaginable. For a moment I wondered if I’d slipped down a rabbit hole into a historical novel of some sort. I hadn’t attended a multi-course sit-down dinner in . . . ever.
By the time the dessert course was finally served my ass had fallen asleep and most of the table appeared to be three sheets to the wind, what with the special wines served with most of the courses and the cocktails we all brought to the table with us.
After another self indulgent speech, Edmund Brown “dismissed” us to mingle with after-dinner cocktails we didn’t need and, most likely, to use the inebriated state of the group to procure a combination of information and favors.
Seeing how the night was going, and keeping in mind Marie’s warnings, I’d only sipped from each glass that appeared before me. I wasn’t stone cold sober but I also wasn’t more than slightly buzzed. Probably more buzzed than I’d like to admit because moments later I was alone with Marie asking about Rosalind.
“How much younger is she than you and William?” I asked, trying to sound conversational and failing miserably.
Marie fixed me with a glare that only a mother of a daughter could muster. “She is five years younger than us. And trust me, she is beautiful and about your age, but you do not want to get mixed up with that family. Not even for an hour or two.”
I swirled my bourbon. “It’s not that.” It was exactly that. “She works with Jeffry. But she doesn’t go by the name Rosalind.”
“You’ve met her before?” Now Marie was surprised.
I nodded slowly, my eyes locking on the woman in question. She scowled up at her father and said something I could only assume was not nice considering she looked as though she were spitting nails.
“A research group cocktail hour last week. I was so surprised when you introduced us that I didn’t know what to do. At first I thought I had her confused with someone else, but no. That’s Esme.”
The corner of Marie’s lip twitched up in a pleased smile. “Esme? No shit. She always did have fire in her,” she muttered under her breath. She followed my gaze and turned so we were standing shoulder to shoulder as we studied Esme. “She’s the reason Jeffry had puppy dog eyes and brought you lunch this week?”
He really was pathetic when he had a crush. “Yes.”
“Well, now you know to warn him off.”
That suggestion made my heart skip an entire, necessary, beat. Was this what Esme’s entire life was like? Everyone avoiding her because of her father? I’d change my name, too. “You seem as though you know something about the name she chose.”
Marie’s face broke into a full-blown grin. “She didn’t choose that name. It is her name. And yes, there’s a story behind it.”
One she wouldn’t be sharing with me. I realized I had no right to it, and yet, I craved it. Felt consumed by a need to know everything about Esme. Every secret. Every desire. I was l
ike a starving man standing before a buffet. I’d never once felt this way about a woman and while my night with Esme was remarkable I couldn’t get over the lingering effects she had on my mind and body. Her skin was oh, so soft and those lips . . .
“There you are,” Greg moaned, taking his wife’s arm. “I feel like rabbit in a room full of wolves. Can we go yet?”
Marie shook her head. “Not yet. But you can go to Jake’s and hang out.”
Greg’s face went red and, quite frankly, terrifying. I couldn’t believe Marie chuckled. I wanted to duck behind the nearest wall. “I am not leaving my woman here,” he growled. “And I’m not leaving your side for the rest of the night.”
Marie glanced my way with a conspiratorial grin. “That’s for his protection, not mine.” Then she patted his hand and guided him toward the group she needed to speak to next.
I blinked a few times. Greg was a bit like the Big Bad Wolf but with Marie he was more like a pup. The beauty that tamed the beast.
They were a fascinating couple.
And one I didn’t have time to dwell on because a moment later a small, warm hand touched my bicep and nothing—absolutely nothing—else mattered in the whole of the universe.
“Leo,” Esme murmured against my ear. “Come with me.”
Chapter 9
“This way,” Esme whispered with a slight incline of her head.
I followed on instinct. No words, no gestures. I simply followed as silently and obediently as I could.
She led me down a dimly lit hallway—probably meant to deter wandering guests—and into a dark but open alcove near the kitchens. Pots and pans slammed and banged against each other, along with the sounds of shouts and running water. Between the lack of light and the cacophony from the next room we had a surprising amount of privacy.
Edmund had only recently bought this house. Was Esme so adept at finding hiding places that she’d already found the best ones here? It seemed so. Once we were safely ensconced in the safety of the darkness she turned in the tight space, her arms and hips just barely grazing mine, and looked up.
“I don’t what to say other than . . . sorry.”
The muscles in my arm fired and even though my mind knew it was the wrong thing to do, I didn’t stop anything that was happening. I let my hand rise to her hip and slide along the curve. I brushed my thumb over the jut and squeezed.
“That’s part of our deal, Esme. You never have to explain yourself to me.”
Her gaze darted away, ran down my body. “I think this goes beyond anything.” She swallowed and I watched the way her delicate neck moved, the way the lines of her body ran together to create the unmistakable shape of a woman. “I have removed myself from my father as much as I can. I moved to Tampa to avoid him at all costs but,” she shook her head, “anyway, he’s here now and I had no choice but to appear tonight. When we met at the cocktail hour with Jeffry and I realized you were an agent I had the faintest thought that I couldn’t get away from men in sports, but that was it. I had no idea my father would call a dinner party and invite so many people.”
I squeezed her hip again to calm her because by this point she was babbling and nervous. “No explanations necessary. I mean it.” Even if I did want them all.
She shot me a wary glance. “You’re not angry? Put off that I’m not who I led you to believe? That I’m being called by a different name?”
I didn’t move at first because I didn’t want for her to see just how much all those things were affecting me. Instead I stood very still, kept our eye contact steady. “I was shocked. Surprised. I wasn’t angry at all. If anything, I was concerned.” And that was the scary, weird truth of it all. I was concerned about a woman. No, not just concerned. I was emotionally invested. “Do you want to tell me why?”
The question escaped me before my brain could talk sense into my body. The more she told me the more I wanted to grab her by the hips and lift her so that she had no choice but to wrap her legs around my waist. Perch her on that ridiculous excuse of a table sitting decoratively behind her, free my dick, and bury it inside her until she began babbling my name.
She stared at my chest, unblinking. “I’m sure you’ve heard the stories about Edmund and he was no different as a father. I didn’t like being associated with him, even as a child. In high school I started going by my middle name.”
Esmeralda. Even silently I loved the way the syllables rolled together. “I somehow doubt your father approved of that.”
She grimaced. “He hated it. Took it as a personal insult. So only my close friends used it. They shortened it to Esme and I found it fit me.”
Marie was one of those friends. “I agree. You are not a Rosalind at all.” Then I swallowed because even saying her name made me hard. “Esme.”
Her lips curved slightly at the corners as if she enjoyed hearing me say her name. Before I knew what I was doing I brushed a kiss at each of those corners.
“Leo,” she sighed.
I gripped the table behind her, so close to what my body wanted but not actually indulging it. “I want you to know you left quite an impression on me, Esme. I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”
“Is that supposed to be a good thing?” She looked up at me, didn’t push me away.
“Yes,” I growled. Growled. What the hell was happening to me? “I consider my dates friends. I care about all of them. But they never leave me wanting the way you did.”
I swear she was holding her breath. Her chest didn’t move. Her eyes didn’t move. The only indication she was alive was the sight of her pulse thrumming in her neck.
“Is that because of the things I asked you to do to me?” she whispered.
Her body writhing as she begged for her orgasm flashed through my mind once again. So erotic. So mine. Except she wasn’t mine anymore.
“No,” I whispered back. “I won’t deny that I enjoyed everything about our night together but it wasn’t what you asked for that left me wanting. It was you.” And that was the truth of it. There was so much potential left on the table. So much more of her I wanted to explore. No woman had ever left me curious and hard the next morning, as if our long night together had only been a moment instead of hours of playing.
“Me?” she scoffed. “What you mean is you want another worry free night of fucking a woman who is up for anything.” She tried to duck away.
I stopped her, pulled my arms in around her and yanked her against my chest. “No, Esme. Seeing you the other night at Rusty’s after months of having you on my mind, it hit me. I was just happy to see you again. You. It felt like you’d been missing.”
She remained stiff but stopped trying to escape. She was breathing as hard as I was when she grabbed my face and kissed me. Frantically. Lips that opened and a tongue that demanded my attention. I did exactly as I’d imagined, taking her by the hips and lifting. Those gorgeous legs wrapped around my waist and she ground against me. She arched, giving me her neck to kiss and suck as my cock grew hard.
“Please Leo.” Her nails dug into my shoulders as she writhed, eyes screwed shut, hands trembling.
I paused, took her hand and kissed it. “Here? Now? You’re sure?”
Her gorgeous eyes flew open. The desperation I saw there gutted me. “I came to you because I needed relief from the insanity my father brought back into my life when he forced his way into Tampa. Everything’s a mess, Leo. Everything.” Tears sprang into her eyes and I couldn’t help but to kiss them away.
“Shhh . . . Esme. You’re safe here with me. I’ll give you whatever you want, darling. But I need to hear you say it.” My dick strained, twitching behind my zip to be inside her, to give her everything she needed.
It about killed me when she slowly pressed her soft lips to my neck. Once, twice, three times before her hands cupped my face and pulled me in for a kiss. “Please, Leo. Tonight has been horrible. I need you.”
I shuddered. Need. Had anyone ever truly needed me before? Or was it being needed by her tha
t was tearing me apart? Was that what drove my hand between her legs and shut off my brain from every warning bell that clanged loudly between my ears? All I knew was that I had no control once Esme spoke. I was a slave to her needs and nothing I thought mattered anymore.
I sought out her core, testing and probing, finding her tight and wet. She rocked against my hand, gasping and moaning. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I tried to maintain the last shred of control that remained, clinging to it like some sort of life raft. I worked in a second finger and explored until I found that spot that turned her to jelly in my arms.
“Yes. Yes. There!”
I flicked my thumb over her clit, then pressed, massaging a lazy circle, entranced by the transformation taking place in front of me. Esme had her eyes closed. Her face relaxed, erasing all that worry. Her lips parted, plump and ripe, begging me to suck them. Nibble them. Use them in place of the breasts trapped beneath her dress. They still tasted sweet from the dessert course and I randomly wondered how her navel would taste with whipped cream inside it. How erotic it would be to lick warm chocolate from the dip in her back.
I grabbed my wallet and using only my sense of touch and muscle memory, found the emergency condom I kept tucked inside, then pulled back just enough to put the right amount of space between us.
“Tear this open, Esme.”
Her eyes opened, big and dreamy with the pleasure I was giving her in the tiny alcove off the kitchen. I kept my hand inside her, working her pleasure points.
“Now what?” she whispered.
“Put it on me.”
She swallowed hard, then placed the condom on top of the wrapper on the space beside her bottom. When she yanked my belt free the blood surged to the head of my dick. It throbbed in the best way.
The zip went down, the clasp slid free, and then Esme’s warm, delicate hands wrapped around my straining erection and freed it from my boxers.
