“You really don’t care, do you?”
I smiled.
“You’re starting to get it.”
Wiping his eyes, words sputtered out.
“Jeez, I always thought, whatever I heard, that you were my brother, that they were exaggerating, misunderstanding you. I always thought you weren’t like that.”
I tilted the pyramid paperweight on its side. This was getting boring.
“Be careful what you hear, Paul. Sometimes it just might be right.”
Seizing the paperweight, Paul squeezed it, his eyes wild, like he might do something rash. Although, we both knew he wouldn’t.
“You know, you’re really like Dad, you know that? Never thought I’d say this, but you’re just like that bitter old workaholic.”
As Paul marched to the door, I called a “thank you” after him.
The next time my phone buzzed a few minutes later, I answered it and immediately said, “Tell my brother to call. I’m unfortunately indisposed at the moment.”
But Cynthia said, “It’s not Paul. It’s a Miss Ashley Turndale—of the Turndale family with extensive property in rural Colorado.”
“Ah.”
“She would like to meet with you—immediately, if possible.”
I opened my laptop and glanced at my schedule once more. It was packed; no doubt about it. But this was important. It could have been the last part of property needed to complete the pipelines. This could solve everything.
“All right. Where?” I asked.
“Oh, eh, she’s saying Manitou Springs,” Cynthia said, clearly surprised.
“Tell her it’s a go and to text me details,” I said, rising. “And move all my meetings to tomorrow. I’ll come in Saturday and finish everything else. Thanks, Cynthia.”
I hung up. Suddenly, the room felt stifling. Paul had ruined the workday; there was no getting around it. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t pop out for a meeting and be productive despite the setback. Manitou Springs was only an hour and change away. I could make it, easy.
Once I got in the car, I got a text from her: This is Miss Turndale. I’d like to meet in the Manitou Cliff Dwellings as they are part of my family’s land.
I set my GPS to the Manitou Cliff Dwellings, strapped myself in, responded that I’d be there in an hour.
Chapter Eight
Carter
The speed limit on the I-25 was 75 mph, but that was for people who didn’t have a buddy in the DA’s office. I had lost count of how many times Skylar had gotten me out of tickets and other petty bullshit charges. Although, I’d had my fair share of getting him out of close ones too, being his alibi when he needed one.
As I sped along, weaving around cars like I was on an extended obstacle course, I thought about what I’d been doing this time yesterday. Or, rather, who. I never had gotten around to telling Cynthia to forget about Donna, but it didn’t really matter now. Now, I was going to see a potential business partner, and tonight it would be Selma’s. I wouldn’t stop at home; Paul could do what he wanted as long as I wouldn’t be around to suffer through it.
So, speeding as I was, it only took me an hour to pull up to the dirt parking lot of the Manitou Cliff Dwellings. At the ticket window, I had to fork over $9.50, but it was a small price to pay when, with this potential land deal, I could very well be making millions. It was incredible to believe that this land (with springs on it, no less) could be owned by a civilian, but stranger things had happened—like a certain civilian handcuffing herself to my desk.
Walking toward the cliff dwellings, I texted Miss Turndale and began scanning the crowd for a woman who didn’t look like an oblivious tourist. But I saw nothing. The next message on my phone indicated why: I’m in the first cave dwelling.
I paused. Okay, something was definitely up. I went back to my car and got out my gun, slipping it into my inner coat pocket. I saved my Glock 43 for special occasions, and being cornered by one of the countless crazies angered by my pipeline plans definitely qualified.
So, as I walked up toward the cliff dwellings, the feel of the hard metal in my leather jacket, pressed to my chest, relieved me. “If you’re prepared, there’s nothing you can’t handle,” as Father used to say.
Already, as I made my way up, the tourists were practically drooling with excitement over the far-off cave dwellings. I tried squinting at the red-stone, old-looking things, but they looked as unimpressive as they had the other three times I’d come here to see them. Hell, people would do anything for a new bit of entertainment these days.
I glanced at my phone, at the “Tell Cynthia to forget about Donna” memo. Look at me. I’d gotten the first new girl in weeks and already I couldn’t think of anything else. Though—and I didn’t know why—it seemed like there was something different about this one, maybe. Maybe not. Who was I kidding?
What are you wearing? I texted the would-be attacker.
Although it wasn’t like they were going to reply: Ski-mask. I’m the one with the AK-47 pointed at your head.
The closer I got to the red structures, the less impressed I was. Great, some people back then built some old stuff that worked great except not nearly as well as basically everything we had now. What was the big deal? Why not enjoy what we had now instead of wasting time salivating over an old pile of rubble?
I was at the first cave dwelling when Miss Ashely or whoever responded: Purple flowered dress.
I stepped in and immediately saw her, the woman in the white dress with the purple flowers. She had braided mahogany brown hair and dancing baby blue eyes. Donna.
She smiled when she saw me.
“Hi.”
I couldn’t stop a smile from making its way onto my face.
“How, and why?”
She flashed a pink-lipped grin.
“Your secretary’s pretty easy to lie to.”
I had to laugh at that one. After all, I had been promising that woman for months that we were actually going to go out for dinner for once—my treat.
Looking her up and down, I said, “You still haven’t told me why.”
She said nothing, looking conflicted herself.
I strode up to her and, pressing her into the wall, murmured in her ear, “I think I know why.”
Shoving me back, she shook her head, one stray piece of her bangs swaying with the movement.
“No, I…” Her eyes met mine. “I mean, I’m grateful you helped my family; really, I am. If only you knew how…” She shook her head again.
“I just…last time—I know it’s stupid—I just thought that when I looked at you, when I really looked at you, it was like I wasn’t looking at the Carter Ray I had heard about. I was looking at someone different, someone who would maybe understand when I told him that this latest pipeline of his, the Morrison one, it’s not right. That he’s planning to build it in an area that is one of the most biodiverse Colorado has, and that the wildlife and natural beauty the pipeline will destroy…”
Catching sight of my face, her voice trailed off.
“Never mind. Forget it. It was stupid to think that you’d care.”
I shrugged. “Guess so.”
Her face fell, and as anger rushed through me, the words came out before I could stop them.
“Don’t think you know me, or anything about me.”
Anger flashed through her own narrowed eyes, then something else, too. Hope. It was just a flicker, but when I heard the guarded, soft-spoken words—“What does that mean?”—I could only respond with, “I don’t know.”
And so, we stood there, glaring at each other, me, her, and her assumed version of me. And the problem was that I wasn’t sure which of us was right, who I really was—her worst stereotype, or her best hope—or both. I wasn’t sure why I cared, or why, for the first time in years, I had said the idiotic words “I don’t know.”
“We can make another deal.”
Now she smiled outright, and her smile became mine.
“Yes?”
Closing my hand around her neck, I growled into her ear. “I could reroute the pipeline. In return, I could use a companion for the next few weeks. One who knows how to listen.”
Donna didn’t move. Her lips were parted, her eyes flicking over my face.
“You mean…” she breathed, and I nodded.
“You would be my submissive. You would have to do what I say.”
Fear flashed through those clear blue eyes. Then, something else. Something that had me hardening as I pressed myself into her. Excitement.
“Okay,” she whispered.
At the sound of people walking in behind us, I let her go. We stood there for a minute, staring at each other, our lips parted. God, I could’ve taken her right there if it wasn’t for the stupid Mom and Pop behind us with their ball-capped 10-year-old.
Donna was drawing toward me already, asking me, “What will my first task be?”
I grabbed her hand and pulled her out of there. Down the steps we went, past more oblivious flocks of tourists. We rounded a corner, and, alone once again, I pressed her up against a fence beside the steps.
“You’ll just have to wait and see.”
I let her go, and, her eager eyes scanning my face, she asked, “Where are we going?”
Whirling around, I pressed her back to the fence, my palm over her mouth, and growled in her ear, “No questions, just follow me.”
Her eyes wide—yet no less eager—she nodded.
When we got to the parking lot, I steered her to my car.
“We’ll have to drive there.”
Again, there was that same slightly aroused, slightly nervous look.
I opened the passenger side door for her, and she got in. I got in the driver’s seat, put the key in the ignition, turned it, and then we were off.
The drive there was quiet. I didn’t play any music or say anything. No, as I hurtled down the highway, twenty miles per hour over the speed limit, I flicked glances over at her shy, averted face. Each time, I wasn’t disappointed. Donna was nervous, definitely, but undeniably excited. She wanted this.
Only a few minutes later, I was pulling the coupe over on the side of the road, the part by the sign that read “Hurricane Canyon Natural Area.” I turned off the engine and then faced Donna.
“Wait here.”
She nodded, and I got out and walked to the trunk. I got out some rope, looped it around one of my arms, and then made my way to the passenger door. Opening it, I swept her up in my arms.
Then, I made for the trees, talking as I went.
“Don’t worry; we’re almost there.” As I carried her, my hand slid to her ass and squeezed. “You’re going to like it.”
Chapter Nine
Carter
Truth be told, as we ventured farther and farther into the forest, she looked like she was liking it already. Finally, once there were trees as far as the eye could see in all directions, I couldn’t wait anymore.
Putting her down, I shoved her against a tree, our lips mashing together. Her hands slid over my arms, enjoying the feel of my biceps. Her lips were smiling as I kissed her. Her pelvis was pressing into mine just as impatiently as mine was into hers.
I pressed her to the tree, smiling as she squirmed with want.
“This is fun,” I said, “but we haven’t gotten to the best part yet.”
Lifting the rope, I wagged it in front of her face.
“The best part is that I get to tie you to this tree and do what I want to you.”
I let her go and twisted her around so my whole body was pressing her to the tree trunk, my cock nestling between her ass cheeks. Grasping her dress’s zipper, I pulled it down slowly, enjoying the parting of the flowered material, the revealing of her perfectly smooth skin underneath. As I pulled, I traced the zipper’s path with my lips, kissing my way down her back while she murmured with pleasure.
I reached the zipper’s end and her panties at the same time. With one quick motion, I yanked down her dress, the tight fabric taking her panties off with it. Now, cupping that beautiful full ass with one hand, I undid her bra and tossed it aside with the other. My hand on her neck, I twisted Donna around so that, pressed to the tree, I could take her in.
Fear and desire flickered in Donna’s enrapt gaze. Her nipples were pink and puffy with arousal. I slipped a finger between her legs to find her just as wet as I’d hoped.
“Not yet,” I murmured, patting her cheek.
I picked up the rope and smacked her chest with its end playfully, enjoying the bouncing of her perky breasts.
“Now for the fun part.”
Donna’s eyes were on the rope as I advanced. Even as I tied her arms above her head and to the tree, I couldn’t take my gaze off those beautifully nervous baby blues. As I drew away, Donna’s lips found mine while her pelvis thrusted forward. She was just out of reach of my dick, and I patted her head.
“That’s the whole point, Donna, my girl. This—all of this—it’s all up to me, not you.”
Donna pouted and I raised a callous eyebrow.
“That is what you signed up for, remember?”
I took a step away and cast a glance around the forest.
“I mean, I could leave, if you’d rather. I am completely clothed, while you, however”—I gave her fully nude form another admiring gaze—“are completely naked.”
Donna’s pout was now a full-on scowl, and she glared at me.
“What’s that?” I asked, taking another step away. “You’re fine if I leave?”
I took another pace back, and from behind me came her sweetly desperate voice.
“No—wait!”
Smiling, I turned to her.
“Yes?”
Now, there was something else in her eyes: need.
“Please, Carter. Please, don’t leave me. I want this.”
I cocked my head at her, and she clarified.
“I need this.”
That was all I needed to pull off my slacks, stride up to her, and—grabbing her by the sides—pull her down so her arm bind slid down the trunk of the tree. Now, she was on her knees.
Then, my hand on the head of the girl with the pleading eyes, I pushed my cock into her mouth. Her eyes widened as her mouth did the same. Slowly, farther and farther, I shoved my dick in as her eyes opened wider and her lips parted more.
Then—oh fuck yes—my entire shaft was in as far as it could go, pressing against the base of her throat. I repeated the motion, shoving myself in faster and harder this time, and she gagged, still not releasing my cock from her warm, wet mouth. Sliding myself out, I slapped her cheeks with my hard-on.
“Good girl.”
Her pleased gaze flicked up to my face and then back to my awaiting dick. With a smile, she opened her mouth wide.
In and out I slid, slowly at first while my dick trembled with pleasure. Soon, I was sliding in so deep that I felt like I was down her entire throat. In and out I went, grabbing her by the hair, slamming myself into her mouth harder each time as the pleasure built and she gave in to me more, closing her eyes and opening her mouth.
I was on the edge, my cock slamming into the back of her throat, and then I was coming, my dick spasming while her whole body shook with it.
Then, I was empty, and everything was fuzzy. When I slid myself out of her mouth, she let out a little sputtered cough.
I patted her head. “You’re good at this.”
I slumped beside her so we were both sitting with our backs to the tree trunk and our butts on the grass.
“That was something,” I said. “Almost like deliverance, like—”
“Art,” Donna cut in.
I turned to look at her, but she was gazing off into the trees, apparently unaware that she’d said just about the last thing I’d expe
cted her to.
“You like art?” I asked, and she nodded.
“I love it. I can look at a Monet or Renoir for hours. I try to make my own something like that, a swirl of color and jubilation. The world’s sad enough, I figure. I want people to look at my landscapes, my cityscapes, my symphony of shades, and be happy.”
“You paint?” I asked, and she smiled. She still wasn’t looking at me, didn’t seem to be here in the forest with me at all anymore.
“I do. There’s nothing else I can lose myself in so entirely; minutes and hours slide by and I hardly notice. Each brush stroke is like meditation for me.”
Silence, then, a smile lingering on her face, she asked, “Why?”
Now I was staring into the trees myself, thinking about how their bending shapes might suit my latest charcoal sketch.
“Because I do, too.”
Donna glanced at me, her eyebrows arching in surprise.
“Really?”
I nodded.
“I’ve tried it all, though what I always go back to is charcoal sketches. Black and white. Always seems to best encapsulate…how what I’m drawing is.”
Another one of those thoughtful smiles slid onto Donna’s face, and, for some reason, I found myself saying, “I’ll show you sometime.”
Glancing at me, clearly surprised, Donna was about to say something, so I rose.
Grabbing her and picking her up, I pressed myself into her so she could know just what I was thinking.
“Time for more.”
The disappointment on Donna’s face giving over to pleasure was my cue to take off my shirt. At the sight of my ripped chest and impressive muscles, Donna was momentarily speechless. Meanwhile, my hands were stroking and fondling her breasts, then one slid down to find her pussy just as wet as last time.
Leaning down so my forehead was against hers, I asked her insistent eyes, “Do you want it?”
Her gaze locked on my cock as I twirled my finger inside her and she moaned, “Yes, please.”
Easing myself into her so just the tip of my dick was in, I asked, “Do you need it?”
Donna’s pussy grasping at my cock was the answer.
Royal Baby: His Unplanned Heir - A Prince's Secret Baby Romance Page 58
