Rebel: Wolfes of Manhattan One

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Rebel: Wolfes of Manhattan One Page 13

by HELEN HARDT


  I glanced over at Rock still sitting at the bar with his brothers. Rock Wolfe would be laughing his ass off at the idea of psychic healing.

  And I’d be right there with him.

  I held back my belly laugh, though. I was not a rude person. Besides, Brent was buying me dinner.

  At least I thought he was, until he ordered a bottle of wine and then instructed the server to issue separate checks.

  Seriously? I was a partner in a Manhattan law firm and could certainly afford my own dinner. And yes, I probably made ten times what he did as a massage therapist. But he had invited me.

  I’d decided not to drink tonight, but when the server brought the wine and poured me a glass, I took a drink. Hell, I was paying for half of it, might as well get my money’s worth. After one sip, though, I knew I wouldn’t be finishing it. It was a German Riesling and was just too sweet for me. I’d be buying half of his bottle of wine. He’d probably cork it and take it home.

  This would so be our only date. To think I’d actually had the idea that I’d sleep with him to get Rock off my mind.

  Brent kept talking about Zen and aromatherapy and how he’d backpacked and hitchhiked through the back ass of nowhere for a year. He was a chatterbox, especially for a man. Not that men couldn’t enjoy conversation, but this guy was the conversation.

  “When I met my spirit animal, that’s when I really found myself. He’s with me all the time now.”

  For real? I nodded.

  Again.

  “What about you?”

  I lifted my brow. Was he actually asking me to speak? I hoped he didn’t think my spirit animal was with me at the moment.

  “Never backpacked,” I said. And never would, thanks very much.

  “You should try it. It’s such an amazing experience. Pure Zen.”

  Good thing I didn’t like the wine he’d chosen, or I’d be getting drunk again tonight. Anything to make his stories more interesting. I’d just had a great massage and a shower and steam. I should be more relaxed than I was.

  Probably because my body was hyperaware of the handsome man still sitting at the bar with his equally handsome brothers.

  I itched to dump Brent and walk over to Rock. If he sat me down on a bar stool and took me right here in public, I doubted I’d object. I was squirming already just thinking about it.

  Which meant I had to get out of here.

  “I’m sorry, Brent. I’ve got an early day tomorrow, and I need to go over a lot of depositions tonight.”

  “Oh. I’m not quite finished.”

  Of course he wasn’t. He’d been talking the entire time I was eating. “I’m sorry. I really do have to go.” I flagged down our server. “Could I get my check, please?”

  “No need,” she said. “Both of your tabs have been paid.”

  I widened my eyes. “What?”

  “Mr. Wolfe over at the bar took care of it.”

  “Mine too?” Brent lifted his brow.

  “For the table,” she said. “Gave me a very generous tip too. I hope I earned it.”

  “Of course. You’ve been great.” I stood. “Goodbye, Brent.”

  “Wait,” he said. “Do you know that guy?”

  “He’s a friend,” I said.

  “We should go thank him.”

  “Uh…I’ll thank him. You go ahead and finish your dinner. I’ll be sure to tell him how grateful you are.” And how cheap.

  “I thought you had to leave?”

  “I do. I’ll just pop over and say thanks first. Thank you for a lovely time, Brent.” I tried not to sound too sarcastic.

  I didn’t want to interrupt Rock and his brothers, but I did need to say thank you. And to tell him never to undermine my date again. Not that I’d ever go out with Brent and his spirit animal again. Threesomes weren’t my jam.

  The three Wolfes were deep in conversation when I approached.

  I touched Rock’s hard shoulder. Tingles shot through me at the contact.

  He turned to face me, his emerald eyes burning. “Lacey.”

  I cleared my throat. “Thank you. You didn’t need to do that.”

  “I heard your date ask for separate checks.”

  “I’m perfectly able to pay for my own dinner, as you well know.”

  He smiled. Damn, he was gorgeous. Those green eyes twinkled like no others. He stood, took my arm, and walked me out of earshot of his brothers.

  “I’m taking you to dinner tomorrow,” he whispered in my ear. “And we won’t be getting separate checks.”

  A warm shudder ran through me. His breath on my ear, his husky voice, his nearness. Everything about him put me on high alert. Everything about him made me want to forget all logic and hop into bed.

  Still, I resisted. “I might be busy tomorrow night.”

  “Get unbusy.”

  My knees weakened. “I might be able to do that.”

  “Make it happen.”

  A jolt landed between my legs. “Rock, I—”

  “Just do it, Lacey.”

  I gulped. I was never one to take orders, but everything in me screamed to take this one. To obey him without question. To cancel anything and everything to accommodate his needs, wants, and desires.

  “All right, Rock.” I smiled. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Wrong,” he said huskily. “You’ll see me tonight. As soon as I get done with those two bozos.”

  “But you—”

  He cut me off with a quick kiss to my lips. “I won’t be long.”

  31

  Rock

  “So Dad’s attorney is still your flavor of the week?” Reid said when I returned.

  Lacey Ward had me hot and bothered. Damn, I could still smell her. Her fresh fragrance was all over me. For some reason, Reid’s comment irked me. “I’m not you, Reid. I don’t have flavors of the week.”

  “Sorry. Flavor of the month, then?” He gestured for the bartender to bring another round.

  “No more for me, thanks,” I said.

  “We’re not done talking about this,” Roy said. “This has me freaked.”

  “I get that,” I said, “but I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.”

  My brother didn’t look convinced.

  And then something dawned on me. Did Roy have anything to do with our father’s murder? No. Not even in the realm of possibility. Roy was an old soul. A gentle soul.

  Still, he’d taken the same beatings the rest of us had, and God only knew what had occurred after I’d left at fourteen.

  Had Derek Wolfe broken Roy? Had our middle brother gone rogue?

  Roy Wolfe was anything but rogue. I’d never believe he had anything to do with Dad’s death. But I had to ask.

  “Is there something you’re not telling us, Roy?”

  He shook his head as he sipped the last of his drink, not meeting my gaze. “Just the call.”

  “If that’s it,” Reid said, “I agree with Rock. We find out what we can, but there’s no reason to go running to the cops or to even be worried.”

  “Why me?” Roy asked. “Why didn’t they call one of you?”

  “My guess is someone got hold of your private cell number and is playing some dumbass game,” I said.

  “Agreed.” Reid nodded.

  “I don’t know. I have a weird feeling about it,” Roy said. “I feel like something shady is going on.”

  “Something shady probably is going on,” Reid said. “Our dad had a lot of enemies out there. But none of that has anything to do with us.”

  “How do you know that for sure?”

  “Because the three of us aren’t Dad,” Reid said. “Hell, Rock hasn’t even been here in over a decade. I haven’t made any enemies in business. Well…not any that would resort to murder.”

  “But it’s Dad’s business. By extension, you are Dad.” Roy set his glass down and picked up the filled one the barkeep had set in front of him.

  “Don’t,” Reid said. “Just don’t. I’m not anything
like Dad.”

  “I don’t mean it that way,” Roy said. “But you were his righthand man in the company.”

  “You’re making me feel pretty shitty right about now, bro,” Reid said. “Besides, if someone’s after me, why did you get the call?”

  Roy went pale.

  Yeah, he knew something.

  Was he involved?

  I doubted it. Roy was a good man. But was he hiding something?

  Absolutely.

  “Look, Roy,” I said. “You need to be straight with us. If there’s something you’re not telling us, we can’t help you.”

  “Nothing,” he said again—again not meeting my gaze. “Just the phone call.”

  I nodded, though I didn’t believe him. But now was not the time to push. He wasn’t in any immediate danger that I could see, and I had a hot woman waiting for me at her place. “All right. You call me if you need anything. Got it?”

  “Me too, bro,” Reid said. “I’m with you, Rock. I have an international conference call in about”—he checked his phone—“an hour, and I need to prepare some stuff. Let’s go. You okay here, Roy?”

  He took another sip of his drink. “I’m good.”

  “You call,” I said again. “Anytime.”

  Roy nodded. Reid and I walked through the tavern and outside.

  “What do you think?” Reid asked.

  “He’s hiding something,” I said. “I haven’t been around for a while, but he’s still the brother I remember. Quiet and studious, and something’s got him freaked.”

  “I agree. Too bad we’re both busy tonight. I wouldn’t mind getting him completely blasted to get him talking.”

  “Another time,” I said, hailing a cab. “Where’s Riley tonight?”

  “I don’t know. I just assumed he didn’t call her.”

  “You’re probably right.” I got into the cab. “See you later.”

  My cock was already hard as I rode the elevator up to Lacey’s floor. What that woman did to me. She made me think things I had no right thinking.

  We’d keep it casual, Lacey and I. No need to complicate things with feelings and such. I’d been there, done that, and I wasn’t up for it again.

  Nieves and I had shared some great times, but when it got serious between us, things fell apart, and I learned she wasn’t the woman I thought she was. I had no desire to repeat it.

  I knocked on the door harder than I intended.

  Lacey opened the door wearing a silk robe and holding a glass of red wine.

  Nothing underneath that I could see. Her nipples protruded against the red silk like two round berries.

  Fuck.

  “What took you so long?” she asked.

  “Sorry, baby, but I’m here now.” I entered, closing the door behind me.

  “Wine?” she asked.

  “I’m surprised you’re drinking, after last night.”

  “Just one glass. I didn’t drink any of the Riesling at dinner. Too sweet.”

  “Riesling’s a pretty boy wine. Perfect for your date.”

  “Hey, don’t disparage my—” She laughed and shook her head. “Who am I kidding? He was a complete flake. I accepted his invitation on a whim. He actually gave me a massage this afternoon. When my appointment was over, he asked me out, and I figured, what the hell?”

  “Not a good fit, huh?”

  “Let me put it this way. His spirit animal was apparently with him on our date.”

  “His what?”

  “Don’t ask. I get that he’s really spiritual and all that, but he went so overboard talking about Zen this and Zen that. Then when he said his spirit animal was always with him, I knew I had to get out of there.”

  “Three’s a crowd,” I said.

  “Exactly.” She handed me a glass of wine. “Make yourself comfortable.”

  She sat down on her couch and patted the seat next to her. “Can we get to know each other a little?”

  “Nothing you don’t already know about me.” Well, there was a lot she didn’t know about me, but nothing necessary for her to know to accomplish the task at hand, which was hot monkey fucking.

  “What do you do in your spare time?”

  “In the last few days? I’ve been fucking you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Rock. I’m serious.”

  “I’m a biker and construction worker from Montana, Lacey. You know that already. Life as I knew it a week ago is over. Now I’m an uptight businessman who wears uncomfortable clothes and has no clue what he’s doing.”

  “Hobbies? Likes? Dislikes?”

  “Hmm.” I took the glass out of her hand and set it on the coffee table next to my own. “I like fucking you. I dislike talking when I could be fucking you.”

  She stood and let out an indignant—and really cute—huff. “Get out.”

  “Come on, baby. You don’t answer the door wearing nothing but a short red silk robe if you don’t want to fuck.”

  “Get out,” she said again, this time angrier.

  My cock was having none of that. “Don’t be that way, Lace.”

  “If you can’t even sit and talk to me for ten minutes, what kind of relationship is this?”

  I stood and glided my fingers down one of her silk-clad arms. “You are beautiful, Lacey Ward. Beautiful and brilliant and a fucking spitfire in bed. I’ve enjoyed every second we’ve shared. But, sweetheart, what makes you think we have a relationship?”

  She yanked her arm away, picked up one of the wine glasses, and splashed the wine in my face.

  I gasped, closing my eyes against the burgundy attack. “Why you—”

  “Get out of here!” she yelled.

  I shed my suit jacket and quickly untucked my shirt, wiping my face with the tail.

  “Get out,” she said again, seething.

  Her anger was only making me hornier. Damn it to hell. I wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Aren’t you going to offer to help me clean up? You just ruined my—”

  “Like you give a rat’s ass.” She shook her head. “You know, as I was sitting with Brent tonight, listening to his lame stories, I was thinking about what a good guy you are, doing all of this for your brothers and sister. How could I have been so wrong? You’re a grade A asshole.”

  “I suppose that’s better than being a grade B asshole.”

  “Yeah.” She let out a sarcastic chuckle. “You would never settle for being less than the best asshole out there.”

  I laughed. “I do my best.”

  “Great. Now I’m serious. Get the hell out of my house.”

  “I don’t think so.” I stalked toward her.

  “I mean it, Rock. Leave.”

  I grabbed her and pulled her to me. Her body was already heated with arousal, and I swore her nipples were poking into my soiled shirt.

  “I’m warning you,” she said.

  “Warning me about what?” I growled. “About how turned on you are right now? Guess what? I already know.”

  “This isn’t happening.”

  “All right. You win.” I let her go and then removed the soiled shirt. “You got anything I can put on?”

  Her gaze drifted to my chest.

  Yeah, I wasn’t going anywhere.

  Then her gaze dropped.

  To the bulge in my trousers.

  “See something you like?”

  “You’re a complete jerk,” she said. “A complete and total jerk.”

  “Who’s hard as a fucking rock for you, Lacey.”

  “Damn you,” she said. “Damn you, Rock Wolfe.”

  “I’m sure I’m already damned, baby.”

  Her nipples poked through the red silk even further. Fuck. I was done for. I had to have her. Had to—

  I picked up my jacket from the couch and put it on. I couldn’t look at her again, or I’d grab her and fuck her senseless. If she wanted me to leave, I’d better do it now.

  I closed my eyes and cleared my throat. “Remember, we have a dinner date tomorrow
night.”

  She widened her eyes. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Not at all, sweetheart. You can have my dry-cleaned shirt delivered to the office.”

  “You are something.”

  I smiled. “Nothing I haven’t heard before. Now I need to get the hell out of here before I bend you over the back of your couch.” I headed toward the door.

  But she stepped in front of me.

  32

  Lacey

  I was nuts. Completely nuts. Rock Wolfe was being a class A douche, and I was blocking him from the door.

  After I’d told him—how many times?—to get out of my apartment.

  My entire body quaked. He was hard as a rock. His bulge was impressive, and I knew what lay beneath that fabric. I knew it. And I wanted it.

  Maybe we didn’t have a relationship. Maybe we’d never have a relationship. I could at least fuck him. I was already ripe for the picking. I had to squeeze my thighs together to ease the ache in my pussy.

  I felt so empty, and I longed to be filled.

  By Rock Wolfe.

  This was a guy I’d let screw me in my office after I’d known him for about two minutes. Lacey Ward didn’t do things like that.

  Except that she did.

  When Rock Wolfe was involved.

  I wanted him. Ached for him. I’d never known a longing so intense. It scared the hell out of me, especially when the object of my longing was such a shithead.

  God, but he was a gorgeous shithead—a gorgeous shithead who knew how to rock my world in bed.

  He’d had a haircut. I missed his longer locks, but now he looked like he could be walking the runway wearing the latest Dolce & Gabbana. Or sailing in a black speedo in a cologne ad. David Gandy had nothing on Rock Wolfe.

  Those shoulders, so bronze and toned, so broad. His biceps large, but not from the gym. I’d bet Rock Wolfe had never set foot in one. No, his muscles came from honest labor in the outdoors. He’d earned them. His forearms were corded and sexy. And that chest…

  Without thinking, I walked to him and brushed his jacket over his shoulders, letting it land in a puddle on the floor.

  His skin was warm.

  Hot.

  That chest, those abs, and the trail of black hair leading to…

 

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