The Talk
INDIE
We need to talk.
Richard had never been so serious with me. Even after Donnie made his lethal mistake, we struggled to keep what was growing between us as light as we could. No family talk had become a welcome rule.
We need to talk. Nothing strikes fear into the hearts of men and women everywhere like that simple, direct statement. You can unravel 10,000 times after you've heard it and even if nothing comes of it, the pangs of worry may remain with you for ages.
I wanted to ask Rich what he wished to speak about, but if he said we needed to talk in person about the mysterious subject, asking would do no good. Rich shared my stubborn streak and he felt the gentleman's pressing need to address problems head-on.
He never avoided responsibility. That was more than I could say for my brother who had become a prominent thorn in my side since Donnie had killed that Carter girl.
I did my job. I did what I could to protect my family and to ensure we spared no expense in fighting Donnie's case.
Despite what I had done to help Jamal and Donnie, I could never come around to what they had done. I did my duty, nothing more.
They had gone too far and pushed the feud from something harmless into something bloody. I feared it would only get bloodier. Our family had intensified the feud to this level only twice before. Both times, blood had been shed. My mother had seen the potential for the disagreement to escalate and she attempted to quell problems early.
Only now, she seemed to have come down on the wrong side of things despite all her talk. Perhaps I shouldn't have trusted in her to maintain the peace. Perhaps at the end of it all, when a Holloway looks at a Carmichael all that they're going to see is an enemy.
If only I could feel that way about Richard.
Our family's feud had no impact on my feelings for him -- whatever those feelings were. Love? Infatuation? A mix of the two? I refused to accept this could be pure lust. Lust doesn't lead to you risking everything just to be with someone. It has to be more than that.
My feelings were small at first, planted like a sapling within the fertile soil of my heart. Slowly, the roots pushed through driving a great discomfort throughout me as I fell for him. When I was finally ready to admit what I felt about Richard Carmichael, my love for him had blossomed into a delicate flower.
I knew he was on the wrong side. I knew that I would be punished harshly for involving myself with him, no matter how hard I tried to keep it a secret. But I couldn't deny that light inside of myself, those unfurling petals of deep affection that now overwhelmed me.
Rich and I met at a different hotel every time. We changed the addresses, texted each other in a simple code and spoke to each other infrequently. Of course, even if we had wanted to, we had very little time for actual discussion.
We would meet at the hotel under the cover of night and without much talk, we would begin to wash off the stresses of the day with kisses and then with delicate touch and then with screaming passion.
Richard ignited a wildness within me that I had never before experienced.
He knew how to turn every inch of me into a bundle of nervous pleasure. I was titillated by his touch, tempted by his kisses and perpetually aroused by his lovemaking.
I arrived later than RIch did for a change. The doorman used the false name we had given him and led me up to Richard's floor. I rapped on the door gently, listening for his footsteps as they tapped across the marble floors of the hotel room.
He opened the door and I grinned.
"The Plaza. Great choice." I stepped in and he smiled back, unable to take his eyes off of me as I walked by.
"We needed the setting to be right."
"What do you mean?"
He jumped straight to the point.
"I have bad news."
I couldn't hide the worry in my expression. Bad news these days could mean anything from a slight inconvenience to a death in the family.
"How bad?"
His expression softened and he began to undo his tie. He shifted the cravat around his neck as he undid the knot, shifting the tie from side to side in his collar to loosen it.
"Not too bad considering the circumstances."
"The suspense is killing me."
"Sorry, my dear."
I appreciated his sweetness, but I was still impatient.
"I'm leaving New York," he said.
He said the words like they were nothing. Each word held such deep implications. I am leaving New York. As in, you are not leaving New York.
Leaving. Not traveling from. He had no intention of coming back.
And then, "New York". That was the location of his family business. His position in the company would definitely require his presence.
"That's a loaded sentence," I replied, condensing my confusion into one flat sentence.
He began to undo the buttons on his shirt. As he revealed his chiseled chest inch by inch, I found it difficult to remain focused on the topic at hand.
"I don't want to talk about it," he tempted me.
Of course, I didn't want to talk about his news either. Rich's six-pack had just come into view and it had been too long since we last touched.
"You have to," I snapped myself out of my infatuation.
This was too important to let Richard's physical appearance distracts me.
"Your brother. He filed a restraining order," Rich replied with disbelief that I wouldn't be aware of his reason for leaving.
I should have known this already, his tone said. But I didn't. Since Selena's death, Jamal had strategically iced me out just as much as I'd tried to keep my distance. He was furious that I had refused Will Harkness's hand in marriage and he kept me confined to my duties and expertise within the company.
"I had no idea," I gasped honestly.
"Why do I have such a hard time believing that?" Richard snorted.
"You have to believe me. I would have warned you. I wouldn't have let that happen."
"It's happening. And my lawyers can't do anything to fight it. Jamal has got himself some bulldogs..."
I refrained from telling him that I was the one that petitioned for the hire of those bulldogs after hearing how powerful and renowned the Carmichael lawyers were. Suddenly I felt guilty. That was always going to be the issue with dating him, wasn't it?
With Richard, I would always have to make a choice: him or my family.
"So what are you going to do?" I asked.
"I don't wish to talk about it."
By now, he was shirtless. Faced with the choice of dealing with the issues head on, or postponing them until after we dealt with our passions, the choice was simple.
Richard approached me and reached his arm behind my back, grasping the zipper that sat at the nape of my neck.
"I'd prefer," he said, sliding the zipper down the length of my spine, "if we kept things light tonight."
"Do we have the luxury?"
"No."
By then, the zipper rested at the base of my spine. He stroked his hand down my exposed back, resting it at my waist. He pulled me close and then kissed me for the first time since I'd walked into the room. His kisses usually made light work of my daily stressors. Today was different.
I had the nagging sense that this interaction represented some finality between me and Richard.
"I want that dress off you now and on the ground."
It didn't take another word before I slipped the sleeves of my dress off my shoulders and shimmied it down to the ground. I stepped out of the dress and then I stepped out of my heels. Out of my heels, Richard dwarfed me even more than before.
He lifted me off the ground, his fingers pressing deeply into my thighs as he thrust me against the wall and began to kiss me passionately.
I undid his belt and this time he didn't press me about my lack of patience. Instead, he succumbed to my roving fingers and allowed me to undo his pants and slide them to the ground.
We were hasty, not
because we wanted to rush because we felt we had to. Urgency nagged at me so I stroked him to a firm full erection before sliding my underwear to the side and sliding him between my legs. He slid on a rubber before sliding into me.
He grunted and I moaned as his cock slipped into me. His full-length stretched every inch of me to a new point of pain mixed with pleasure. As Richard began to move inside me, I wrapped my arms around his neck and moaned, bucking my hips in arousal.
He moaned my name and I whimpered in response as he began to thrust into me deeper and deeper. It did not take long for me to reach another climax. I exploded, and wrapped my legs around him tightly, pressing the backs of my shins into his buttocks and pulling him deeper into me.
He moved me from the wall over to the bed and we continued to make love, rutting and moaning in perfect harmony as I approached two and then three more climaxes.
I began to whimper and protest as Richard moved to pin my arms above my head. As I wriggled my arms, he pushed them harder into the bed and growled at me.
"No. You are mine. Tonight, you obey."
I never experienced Rich becoming so aggressive before. I liked it. Immediately, I ceased my protest and allowed him to pleasure me in the ways he saw fit.
He began to thrust into me. Harder... Harder... And as I moaned, harder still. I had never experienced such a rush of emotions and such a rush of physical excitement. Every inch of me ignited with a fiery desire that could only be quenched by him.
As we began to move towards our tryst's inevitable conclusion, I began to moan louder. I reached yet another peak of pleasure before Richard reached the finish of his own. Grunting out loud, he finished, his thick ropey member trembling between my legs as he erupted.
We pulled apart from each other, gasping for breath.
Our attempts to erase the bad memories from our day or perhaps pretend they had never happened proved unsuccessful. My desire to talk to him about the precise topic we'd sworn to avoid burned deep in my chest.
"Rich..." I whispered.
"I know," he interrupted, "I can't stop thinking about it either."
"I need to know what you're going to do."
"I'm going to leave New York. I have to."
I supposed that I shouldn't have been surprised. My brother held Rich in a one-down position. He'd lost family. Staying in New York would mean playing with fire.
"This isn't fair."
"I agree."
I knew what he wanted to do then. He wanted to point out that this wouldn't have happened if it weren't for my family. I felt it too -- the guilt.
"I can't try to talk to them Rich," I started, already beginning to make excuses for myself and justify why I wouldn't plead on his behalf.
He rested his palm against my shoulder.
"I understand," he muttered, "if I were in your shoes I'd do the same thing."
I nodded. Of course, he understood me. That was why we'd mixed so well together despite everyone telling us that we shouldn't have.
"If you leave here, Jamal might make good on his threats to me."
We both knew that Jamal might make good on his threats regardless of Richard's presence in New York. I would have felt a hell of a lot better if Rich could remain by my side.
He glanced back at me with the most pained expression on his face. I have to admit, I did feel slight relief. I wasn't the only one in anguish over this.
"I don't wish to leave you."
"Then don't."
I was certain that if Richard left New York, nothing would ever be the same between us and nothing would ever be the same between me and my family members. I had barely spoken to my brother and my cousin outside of work and if they caused Richard to leave New York, I didn't know if I could forgive them. I was at least grateful that Donnie had no idea who I had been going to meet up with.
If he had known, by now, Jamal may have already rooted out what I had been up to.
Secrecy was our ally at a time like this.
Whether Richard would listen to my pleas for him to remain in New York, I had no clue. I hoped that he would. I lay next to him, my arm intertwined with his as I waited for his response.
Hard
RICH
If I knew precisely what that wily woman wanted from me, I would have given it to her.
Whether she knew it or not, Indie Holloway had a vice grip on my heart.
Watching her lying next to me, and watching her gaze up at me with these large brown eyes robbed me swiftly of my common sense. Speaking with my brother, I have been determined to leave New York and never to return. At the time, I hadn't thought about Indie. I had been strictly moving within the role of my position at the company. I had been thinking more like Richard Carmichael, II than Richard Carmichael, III.
But of course, I couldn't leave without considering her. I wanted to ask her to come with me, but I suspected she would say no. Like me, Indie was bound to her family by a strong sense of duty that never seemed to waver.
I was now experiencing just a ripple of doubt. Something stirred within me that made me question whether fleeing to Trapani, an isolated beach town in Sicily, was the best decision.
If I hadn't gone over, if I had never looked into her eyes, I might have been content with my decision.
"I can't stay," I told her.
Despite my desires to succumb to her whims and to my own, my responsibility was to leave New York. Creating more trouble for Ames and Carmichael Inc would do us no favors. Anything that prolonged this dastardly infighting would only serve to ramp up hatred once more.
I could sense that Indie bit back tears. She was too strong and too much of her father's daughter to ever let me see her cry.
"I understand," her voice warbled as if on the brink of breaking. It never did.
"Kiss me," I whispered.
I really meant : forgive me.
Once more; hesitation. She leaned forward and planted a kiss on my lips. Her kiss brought to mind how little I wanted to leave our room at the Plaza. If I could have stayed there forever, I would have.
I had no issues making the difficult decisions that a tough man must make throughout his life. Yet I relished moments where I could unwind. I reveled in my existence and in discovering a part of myself I didn't even believe in before Indie Holloway came into my life.
She ran her hands through my hair, releasing the musky scent of my cologne and the scent of tobacco from a cigar Ames had smoked in my office earlier.
"You smell good," she mumbled.
"As do you."
I kissed her again. She closed her eyes and allowed me to rake my fingers through her tight bouncy curls. Her long, natural black hair elongated as I stretched my fingers through the coils. The shrinking of her curls concealed her hair's true length, but my fingers caressing them exposed that she possessed the most magnificent length of soft hair.
I had to have her again. There was no way I could avoid my own desires which had once more mounted from the minor touch of her warm hand to my flesh.
I pushed her onto her back and wrested her legs open with great force. Controlled by my desires, I thrust myself into her with one great push that resulted in an earth shattering scream.
Between her legs was soft, still slick from when we had made love prior and growing slicker as I pressed inside her.
Her arms instinctively wrapped around my torso, nails digging into my back. I grunted as I thrust into her one more time, my entire length now buried deep between her legs. She moaned and I thrust into her harder again, enjoying her mewling screams of pleasure.
My hardness stiffened as I thrust deep between her legs. Having her on her back wasn't enough. I needed to get wild with her and to make this night a memorable one. Depraved as it might have seemed to her, if I was going to leave New York, I had one last request, and one last fantasy I craved to play out.
I pulled out of her, my cock making a loud squelching sound as I removed it from her tenderness.
She gasped.
"I need more," I muttered.
"Keep going then."
"Not that."
"Then what?"
"I need your ass."
She gasped.
"My ass?'
"Now."
"You can't be serious."
"I am. Bend over. Show it to me," I commanded
"I've never done that."
I chuckled, "You expect me to believe that? A Manhattan socialite who's never had it --"
"I'm serious Richard," she replied before I could say the words out loud.
"So you're opposed then?"
"Not opposed."
"Then what?"
"I never thought... I never thought a guy like you would ask for something like that."
"A guy like me?"
"Yes," she admitted.
"I'll need you to explain more," I mumbled.
"It's just... Usually with men from my world, there more polished... Cleaner... Composed."
"And I'm none of these things?"
She backtracked, "that's not what I meant."
"Then clarify," I replied, "dear."
"I never expected a man like you to be so wild."
As she said it, I could see in her eyes she didn't mean it in a bad way. Perhaps the taboo was something she admired. Perhaps it was something she had craved secretly as well.
"So you'll do it?"
"I never said that," she snapped.
"What are you afraid of?"
She paused. When I thought she had taken too long to respond, answer for her.
"Do you think it will make you a whore?" I blurted out.
She gasped, "what did you just say?"
"Is that what you're afraid of? You feel like you always have to be the good girl?"
She laughed.
"I am the good girl."
"How long do you think that will last?"
"What? You won't take no for an answer?"
Alpha Bait_BWWM Billionaire Romance Novel Page 10
