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Best of Penny Wylder: Virgin Romance

Page 8

by Wylder, Penny


  “Hi,” I say.

  “Hey.” His voice is deeper than normal, edged with sleep. “How are you?”

  “I’ve been better.”

  His hand slides up my side, curling around the back of my neck to pull me closer. “Not one of those things he said was true.” I feel a wan smile appear on my face; Andrew can talk all he likes, but it won’t change the fact that my uncle’s words are true. Andrew looks at me deeply, as if searching for something. “You believe him,” he says.

  “Of course I do.”

  His brow creases. “Why?”

  “Because you haven’t been there for the rest of it, Andrew. You don’t know what I went through, you don’t know what happened to make him say those things. They are true.”

  “No,” he says. “I refuse to believe that. You are smart, beautiful, and kind. You are not a failure.” He kisses me and adds, “Let me make you forget what he said, and show you that it doesn’t matter. Let me show you how much I want to be with you.”

  He kisses me again, and rolls over me. I close my eyes and let him make me feel. His cock entering me feels familiar and comforting, a solitary and precious connection. This time he doesn’t fuck me. Everything is long and deep, a slow build to the end. His mouth never leaves mine, and I think I could live an eternity in his kisses. He stays deep inside of me, rolling his hips in time with our breathing, and I feel my orgasm coming from far away. It’s not bright and loud, but expansive. I come apart underneath him, my body shaking as pleasure rolls over me like a tide. He’s not far behind me, and without a condom he finishes in the sheets.

  Andrew doesn’t move from above me, looking down and holding my gaze. “I want to be with you. Not in secret. I don’t care what anyone thinks about us. I promise everything will be okay. I am going to make sure that you’re okay. Do you believe me?”

  I nod. I do. I do believe him, but it still hurts knowing that I’m about to lose everything.

  “Come with me to court today,” he says. “It will show him that you’re stronger than what he has to say to you.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Please,” he says, his lips against mine, “I want you there.”

  I complete this kiss, loving the sensation of his lips. “Okay.” If he wants me there, I’ll go. I can only hope that it doesn’t make things worse.

  The sun is fully risen now, and I get up to take a shower. “Can I join you?” Andrew asks.

  I manage to smile at him. “If you do, we’ll never make it to court on time.”

  “That’s a fair point.”

  Once showered and dressed, I see Andrew again in the kitchen. He’s drinking coffee and eating a granola bar. “I have a question,” he says as I come downstairs. “What did you actually find last night?”

  I glance toward the dining room. In the emotional mess I had completely forgotten my discovery. Internally cringing, I go into the dining room and grab the Trident Security file. I pass it to Andrew. “Here. It’s the breakdown brochure for people installing systems with Trident. It describes the services involved in every tier, and Mr. Sterling was in the highest. Look what it says.”

  He scans it, and his eyes widen. “Multiple secure data back-ups.”

  “I looked into it further, and what they mean is that all records are held on a server that only the highest members of the company can access. It’s not something that shows up in their regular database, and because it’s privileged they would never provide it voluntarily.”

  “I’m sure Timothy told the police to check every back-up,” he says, and I can see him working through it.

  “I’m sure he did too. But the police wouldn’t have known about the fact that there was a back-up like this. The information is private, and kept in the highest confidence—even from law enforcement. Do you see? If it’s not there, we lose nothing. If it is—”

  Andrew is beaming now. “You’re right. This could change everything. If it shows that Timothy left the house, it could vindicate him entirely.”

  “We’ll have to subpoena the records.”

  “How fast can you get one ready?” he asks, downing the rest of his coffee.

  “How much time do we have?”

  14

  The courthouse is both beautiful and intimidating. I suppose they probably designed it that way. It’s an old building, all wood and polished floors and delicate moldings. I feel sick. The whole ride in the car I kept thinking about what my uncle will say to me when he sees me and now that Andrew and I are close, I think I’m going to throw up. Suddenly the world feels like it’s spinning and I’m hyperventilating. Andrew takes my hand and his voice is calm and steady as he tells me, “Everything will be fine. He won’t cause a scene here.”

  “He doesn’t have to,” I say.

  “You’re here because I want you to be. That’s all you have to remember.”

  “Easier said than done,” I mutter under my breath.

  We turn the corner and approach the courtroom, and I see Uncle Roger standing with Mr. Sterling. I feel like the floor might swallow me up, but I keep walking because Andrew is still holding my hand. My uncle sees Andrew first, then me, then our joined hands. His expression turns livid. He says something to Mr. Sterling and makes a beeline toward us, meeting us halfway. “Naomi, I don’t see any reason for you to be here, as you have nothing of substance to contribute.” His tone is acid.

  Andrew squeezes my hand, and I take a deep breath. “I’m here at Mr. Finch’s request.”

  “And actually Roger, Naomi may have saved our case,” Andrew cuts in. “When you interrupted us last night she was in the process of uncovering an important piece of evidence.”

  My uncle laughs, “That’s impossible.”

  Andrew looks over at me. “Naomi?”

  My mouth is suddenly dry—the plan was for Andrew to tell him what we found, not me. I don’t even think I can. I feel Andrew change his grip, fingers threading through mine and squeezing. “Tell him what you found.”

  I clear my throat. “There may still be evidence that Mr. Sterling left the house on the night of the murder.”

  My uncle narrows his eyes. “How?”

  I outline what I found out about Trident Security, Andrew filling in as needed. The incredulous look on my uncle’s face is more than enough for me to know that he doesn’t believe me. But he does have to take Andrew’s word. I can see he’s not happy about it. I pull out the subpoena I prepared before we left. “You can use this to get the back-up.”

  “Or,” Andrew says, “Just have Timothy call Trident. As one of their most valued clients, I’m sure they would send over the information right away.” I can hear the smile in his voice. He’s enjoying this just a little too much.

  My uncle—his entire body rigid with anger—turns and waves over Mr. Sterling.

  Andrew doesn’t let my uncle lead the conversation. As soon as Mr. Sterling joins us, Andrew asks him, “Timothy, when the police checked the security logs from Trident, did they check every back-up?”

  Mr. Sterling puts his hands in his pockets. “They told me they did.”

  “Including the one kept by the board exclusively for your diamond membership?”

  “Well, I would have thought…maybe not,” Timothy says, mulling it over. “I guess they wouldn’t have known to look there.”

  I can’t help smiling. “Call them. If they can give you a copy of the data without us having to use a subpoena it will be faster, and if it shows you leaving your house when you said you did, it proves that Robert Greene is lying and casts reasonable doubt on your status as a suspect.”

  It looks like Mr. Sterling lights up from within, and he practically runs away and out of the courthouse to use his cellphone.

  My uncle turns back to us, his whole face a portrait of disgust. “Well played.”

  “This isn’t a game,” I say. “It isn’t some sort of play to make you look bad.”

  “And I’m supposed to take your word on that after you went and fuck
ed the very man I told you was trying to take my company? I was going to fire you, but I suppose I’ll have to let you stay after this. We’ll see if you can earn your keep with more than a fluke discovery.”

  I grind my teeth together, suddenly sick to death of everything he’s put me through. “That’s very generous of you.”

  “Actually,” Andrew interjects, “you don’t have to stay at Grayson & Wates.”

  “What are you talking about?” I ask.

  Andrew lets go of my hand and steps forward. “Roger, you may consider this my notice. I will stay on for the remainder of the trial, but as soon as it’s completed my resignation will be in effect immediately. I want no part of a firm that treats people the way you do your own family, so I’ve decided to start my own. And you’ll release me from my non-compete clause, because if you don’t, I’ll tell our clients how you treat people who are beneath you. If you think you’ll have any clients left after that, you’d be mistaken.”

  My uncle sputters, but can’t seem to find words.

  Andrew turns to me then and adds, “And I’d love it if you’d be my first new hire at the firm.”

  Now it’s my turn to gasp. “Really?”

  Softly, so my uncle can’t hear, he says, “I told you that I would make sure you were okay. I want to be with you, and I want to do it in a place where kissing you isn’t going to get me a dagger in the back.”

  “You can’t hire her,” my uncle interrupts. “She’s agreed to work for me for an entire year.”

  I ignore him, and for the first time it’s easy to do it. His words bounce off me like I’m wearing armor. In a way, I suppose that I am. I close the distance between Andrew and myself, and I kiss him. It’s not the kind of kiss that’s meant to be in public, but right now I don’t particularly care. Andrew’s arms wrap around me and I feel safe. When I pull away from him, lipstick is covering his mouth and he’s grinning like a fool.

  I look over at my uncle and smile. “You’re a lawyer. Next time get it in writing.”

  Epilogue

  Six Months Later

  I put down a box in my new kitchen, and glance around. I’m in love with the new apartment. Even under the sea of Andrew’s boxes and mine it’s gorgeous. All hardwood floors and tall windows, stainless steel and granite. Even better, it has a room that’s going to be just for me and my music. I can’t wait to dive back in. This week is my last week working at Finch & Howell, a young firm that’s done amazingly well for its first six months. That’s Andrew for you, he’s so charismatic that a lot of his old clients followed him, and a lot of new ones showed up. He finally threatened to fire me if I didn’t quit to work on music again. It turns out there’s a surprisingly large music community here in Florida…

  I go into what will soon be my studio. It’s beautiful, with a window seat and dark wood paneling. I can see in my head where I want the keyboard to go, and my computer set up. I’ll put up some noise dampeners and a microphone. Yeah—it’s going to work. I can practically feel the music itching under my skin, waiting to get out. I hear the front door to the apartment open and head back into the kitchen.

  Andrew comes in with a box and puts it down. I’ll never get tired of watching him lift things. “That’s the last of it,” he says.

  “Finally,” I laugh. “Now comes the hard part.”

  “Yeah, but that hard part can wait.”

  I frown. “Not really, because if we don’t unpack anything we’ll have nothing to sleep or eat on.”

  He takes his shirt off in one motion and wipes the sweat from his face. “We will, don’t worry. But right now, there’s a different hard part that I want to pay attention to.”

  “That might be the worst pick-up line you’ve ever attempted,” I say, rolling my eyes.

  He’s smiling, while at the same time walking toward me. I know that walk. That walk that says ‘I’m about to seduce you.’ “I’m sure I’ll have worse. Besides, I think it’s important that we christen the place properly. Right away.” He lifts my shirt over my head and tosses it behind him.

  “We did that when we saw the place.”

  “But we own it now.”

  I cross my arms, but I’m still smiling. “You’re very motivated.”

  “Yes I am.” He moves toward me, pulls my arms down, and covers my neck and chest with hot, fast kisses that leave me panting.

  I wriggle out of my jeans as Andrew takes out his phone. “Let’s see, what shall we do today. I have some ideas.”

  Him and that damn list. He’s very dedicated to it, and we’ve been crossing off things one by one. He pulls me into the living room. It’s a wasteland of boxes, but flooded with light from the windows. The rest of our clothes lose themselves along the way. “Kneel down,” he says.

  I raise an eyebrow, but I don’t question. The things on the list usually end with me screaming Andrew’s name.

  As soon as I’m kneeling, Andrew is on the ground, and then he’s underneath me and his tongue is inside me and I gasp at the sudden burst of pleasure. “We’ve done this before,” I say.

  “Not like this,” he answers, the vibrations from his voice moving through me.

  He plunges his tongue further into my pussy, caressing me from the inside and making me shudder. He licks me from top to bottom and back, swirling and drawing designs across my clit. I can never tell where his mouth will touch me next, and the anticipation makes me wetter than I already am.

  He hums against my clit, making it vibrate again. “I never get tired of the way you taste.” His words are almost lost, more felt than heard.

  Suddenly the very tip of his tongue is working me. Around my clit, up and down and over, dipping inside me before coming back again. Sealing his lips over me, he sucks me deep, and I feel the beginning of an orgasm rise. But that’s not what Andrew has planned.

  Releasing me, he pushes me off his mouth and down his body to where his cock is waiting, tilting me back until I have to put my hands on the floor behind me for support. As I lean backward, he thrusts into me firmly and immediately. “Oh,” I say, because it’s all there is to say. This is a position we haven’t tried yet, though now I’m going to kill him for not picking it from the list sooner. From this angle he fills every part of me. He’s stretched against the walls of my pussy, pushed in to the hilt, and sitting like this he feels even bigger than normal.

  I roll my hips, pushing him out and in, and I hear a deep sound from Andrew. I roll my hips again, and he moves his hips with me, and I have to close my eyes. My body knows what it wants, and I can barely control the movement as I ride him and he fucks me, both of us approaching the edge together. I reach down and touch my clit, circling and pressing and sliding, and oh god there it is, yes yes yes.

  It is shattering. My eyes are closed and my hips are still moving, milking the shocks of pleasure his cock sets off inside me with every movement. I’m heaving in air and still feeling aftershocks when I feel Andrew’s body tighten underneath me, his strokes growing short and fierce. I don’t hesitate, pulling off him, turning and moving and covering him with my mouth. He thrusts again once, twice, and I feel him come before I taste it. I swallow it all down, the creamy taste of him mixing with my own juices on his cock. He groans, reaching down to pull me off him. “I don’t think that was part of the plan.”

  “Spontaneity,” I say, grinning. Then I kiss him, mouth open, because I can, and because I know the deviant side of him loves the idea of tasting his own come on his lips. “So is the apartment officially christened now?”

  He pulls me against his side, tucking his arms around me. “This room is.”

  “You have plans for every room?”

  He laughs, a dark and sensual sound. “I’m disappointed that you didn’t think I would.”

  I have a response, but I forget it as he kisses me. So the list will continue. I can’t say I’m disappointed.

  “I don’t think I’ve told you that I love you today,” he says.

  “Funny, I don’t think yo
u have either.”

  “Well, Naomi Grayson, I love you. I love every bit of you, and I plan on showing you in very creative ways. For a very long time.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Spontaneously?”

  He pulls me on top of him again and I lose my breath. “Of course.”

  * * *

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  Copyright © 2017 Penny Wylder

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or businesses, organizations, or locales, is completely coincidental.

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  1

  I really thought that parties like this only happened in movies. The music is loud, there are red cups everywhere, and the dim corners are filled with people touching, kissing, going as far as they can in public.

 

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