by Brynne Asher
“Fuck. Quit twisting my words. Look, I think I know you better than anyone—just like you know Ellie better than anyone. It’s who we are. You might be dishing me your shit while dressed to the nines, but I can see you aren’t yourself. Looking at you is the reason I wanted nothing to do with the company. Just because you’re cut out for it, doesn’t mean I like seeing you deal with all the extra bullshit we know comes with the business.”
“Yeah, well, who else was going to take over? You went your own way and never came home. Ellie studied dance more hours of the day than she did anything else. As soon as you took a job teaching, Dad started grooming me. I’m not an athlete or a ballerina. I didn’t have an out like you two, so I stepped up and worked my ass off. The value of your shares have doubled in the last two years—you’re welcome.”
Cam drops his head, no doubt sick of me at this point, or at least that’s what I think until he looks back up and lowers his voice. “It was always you, Jen. You never saw it, but he’s been molding you since you were a kid. He knew I couldn’t sit in an office all day and finesse people the way you do. Hell, every move Ellie makes is from her heart—she’d giftwrap the oil and give it away before she’d negotiate it for a dime. You’re the one Dad wanted for the job and, from what he says, you’re damn good at it. But, Jenny, there’s more to life than refineries and minerals. Take it from me who took too long to get my head out of my ass—do not let life pass you by. Grab it by the balls and squeeze those motherfuckers ‘til they bleed. You might think you have it all with your million-dollar downtown loft and your closet full of shoes but, trust me, until you feel blood on your hands, you have no idea.”
I swallow back my tears. I never cry and I haven’t shed a tear once since I realized someone’s trying to frame me from inside my own company. But talking to Cam is different. If anyone in my life can look past the shoes, the job, the damn mask I put on every morning—hell—the whole fucking façade, it’s him.
“You forget I’ve seen you at your worst, Jenny. I know you. I’d give my trust fund and my shares to see you at your best and I know for a fact, when you get there, it’s not gonna have one damn thing to do with the family business.”
It doesn’t matter how hard I bite the inside of my lip—my tears tumble over my lids like an unwelcome guest showing up for Sunday dinner. I hate them and I hate that they make me feel weak. “Don’t make me cry. I’m emotional when I’m drunk.”
“You’re not drunk. The summer after my freshman year of college when Rudy Crane called me to come get you because you were wasted at his field party—you were drunk. You threw up all over my new truck and I wanted to kick your ass but I still didn’t tell Mom and Dad. I’ve got your back now, too, and I’m telling you the truth you don’t want to hear. We’re nothing if we don’t shoot straight with each other. You did it for me a couple months ago by keeping Paige close to this family while I was figuring my shit out and I’m doing it for you now. Take it from me, the sooner you get your shit straightened out the better. It’s time to get a life outside of work.”
I don’t agree, disagree, or even acknowledge his genius. I hate and love that he knows me so well.
He stands, towering over me, and holds out a hand. “Come on. Go inside and find a sofa. I’m making the love of my life an honorable woman tomorrow so I can be more than just her baby-daddy.”
I take his hand and let him pull me up but he doesn’t stop there. When he wraps his arms around me, puts his lips to my head, and I mutter into his chest, “I’m happy for you. I really am.”
He gives me a squeeze and I wipe my face on his sweatshirt when he reminds me that, even though he’s a genius, he’s still my brother. “If you call me an asshole tomorrow during your toast, I’ll kick your ass.”
I shrug and sniff, needing a tissue. “That’s okay. I’ll lasso you and drag you behind my horse.”
I feel him laugh even though I’m not kidding. I could lasso his ass to the ground, even in my drunken state, and he knows it. I did it when he was fifteen after he threw a garter snake at me. I hate snakes.
“Go to bed. I’ve left Paige alone too long.”
I push away and look up to him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, along with five hundred of your closest friends.”
He shakes his head again and runs his hand through his hair. “For a shotgun wedding, it got out of hand fast, huh?”
“Hattie Montgomery is our mother and, now that I’ve met the Carpinos, I’m surprised it stopped at five hundred.”
He turns to walk off into the night, heading for the guest house. He doesn’t look back when I hear him say, “Love you, Jenny.”
I have to bite my lip again to keep my voice steady. “Love you too, big man.”
Chapter 14
Tease
Jen
The minute I flip off the shower, my heart skips a beat because I hear a banging on my front door.
No way does security ever allow anyone but my family up without my permission and my family never bangs on my door. Plus, they’re busy today.
I grab my towel and dry off as fast as I can, squeezing water from my hair before throwing on a robe and pulling it tight as I run through the wide-open great room. I don’t stop to check the cameras, ask who it is, or even think about what I should be doing or who I should be running away from.
Like a starved woman, I flip the lock and swing the door open.
Damn.
He looks good.
Better than I remember, probably because he’s here in the flesh and not just teasing me with his words. He’s in another pair of jeans and the same work boots he always wears. Today he’s in a plain, long-sleeved tee that doesn’t appear to be a trophy or a souvenir, but it is pulled taut across his wide chest, especially since his hand is rested high against my doorjamb.
“Hey,” I breathe, realizing I should have taken an extra thirty seconds to throw on some sweats or, at the very least, a pair of panties. Instead, I fold my arms across my chest and lamely state the obvious. “You’re back.”
His eyes travel my body, down to my bare feet. When they move up again, he pauses on my lips, causing my mouth to go dry.
I lick my lips.
His eyes meet mine.
Then, he moves.
I gasp when his hands reach my face at the same time I hear my heavy door being kicked shut. His mouth hits mine with such force that our teeth scrape and I have to grab onto his forearms to keep from tripping over backwards. When his tongue invades my mouth, I instantly taste mint and Eli, and I realize how long the week has seemed without him here. His hands move to my waist and just like the other night when he swept me off my feet so soundly, I’m up and have no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist to hold on. That’s when I get his hand on my ass, this time only through the thin silk of my robe, and I shiver from what it does to me.
He was right. I like his touch there. I like that he thinks of it as his.
But before I can enjoy it too long, my back is on the dining table, the cool stainless-steel shocks my skin. Eli tears his lips away from me and looks over my head, shoving my laptop out of the way as he kicks my mid-century dining chair—upholstered in the color of charcoal—to the side. He looks back to me and I’ve never seen his eyes so dark.
So heated.
I realize my legs are still circling his waist and I grip my robe to keep it closed. Just when I thought I’ve caught my breath, he puts a hand next to my head, gazing over me at the same time his hand slides up the back of my thigh.
The second his hand comes into contact with my bare ass, his already heated eyes transform.
Resolute.
Craving.
Greedy.
When he squeezes, I exhale and my eyes fall shut. The next thing I know, his lips hit the sensitive skin below my jaw, the scrape of his whiskers awaken something deep inside me. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and turn my head to him.
Those ravenous, dark eyes look into mine as I feel him pull on the d
elicate piece of silk that’s the only barrier between his touch and me. My robe goes slack around my waist where I had it cinched—the cool air hitting my heated skin is welcome, but not as welcome as his touch. Eli never breaks eye contact as his big hand spans my stomach and creeps up my ribcage, under my breast as my robe slips away. Only when his thumb brushes my nipple do his eyes drop.
I get to watch him rake his eyes down my body for the first time. His grip on me tightens and I’m pushed up the table, sliding effortlessly on my silk.
“Eli.” His name comes out on a croon.
Ever since I woke up this morning, all I could think about was him. But on my drive home, I decided that I need to learn more about him. That was going to the top of my agenda when I saw him next. Not to be laid out over my dining table and stripped down to nothing.
He still hasn’t said a word to me since I opened the door. But when he wraps his lips around my nipple and sucks, I really don’t care.
I spear my fingers into his hair to hold him tight. If he stops, I might … I don’t know … die.
He rolls and pinches my other nipple hard enough that I jerk from the pain and pleasure as it shoots through me. He kisses his way across my chest, licking away the sting, rolling his tongue around it.
His hands come to my legs and he unwraps them from around his waist and props my heels at the edge of the table—a table I’ve always loved. A table that will never be the same when I sit here to eat dinner with my parents.
He pushes my knees wide and when I look down my body to him, he gives me a fiery glance even though his lips tip on one side. You’d think I’d care, but I just don’t, because his lips touch my hip for the first time. Then my navel. And, oh fuck, my pubic bone. His fingers slide through me first, parting everything, before his tongue does one lazy lap. My hands fall to the table and I push on my heels to lift. He circles my clit so lightly with the tip of his tongue and then he’s gone.
I lift my head and gasp, “You’re stopping?”
Moving in, he puts a forearm on either side of my head and I have to work to slow my breathing. He kisses me first and I barely taste myself on his tongue since he barely tasted me. When he leans up, he states, “You can be a pain in the ass, but I missed you anyway.”
Well, now I know what the damn smirk was about. He’s playing with me. I fist his shirt at his sides and ignore that, focusing on what I really want to know. “Why did you stop?”
“Told you I don’t like to be teased.”
“When did I tease you?”
He narrows his eyes. “About that guy who calls himself a trainer.”
I wrap my legs around his middle and squeeze. “I never teased you about Jase.”
“Baby. You did and you know it. You even enjoyed it.”
“No, baby. I didn’t. I told you the truth. If I wanted to tease you, I would’ve said, ‘Jase might or might not have bested me during our self-defense moves and ended up dry humping me, but on a clean mat this time. It must be my week’.” I give my head a little shake to emphasize the ridiculousness of this whole conversation. “But I didn’t. I told you the truth. He did not dry hump me—you’re the only one who’s done that, and in a very long time, I might add.”
He lifts a hand and brings it down to his side where he slaps it on my bare ass before squeezing. “Fuck. I did miss you.”
Now that his mouth isn’t between my legs, I can focus on my agenda. “I might’ve missed you, too, even though you didn’t tell me why you left or what you were doing all week. What were you doing all week?”
His eyes close and he shakes his head before his lips hit skin below my ear. “I had shit to deal with. Nothing worth talking about. Especially while I’ve got you naked underneath me. You smell like cake.”
His hand kneads my ass and upper thigh and I sigh because I like it. “It’s my vanilla sugar scrub. Stop trying to distract me. Anything you do for an entire week is worth talking about. Tell me.”
He works his way around to my collarbone and mumbles there, “What’s your schedule today with the wedding shit?”
It’s hard to think about anything when he kisses the underside of my breast. I look down at him and he says nothing, but does flick my nipple again with this tongue and raises his brows, waiting for an answer. “I need to be back at the ranch for a bridal luncheon, hair, and makeup. But I have to dry my hair before I leave and that takes at least twenty minutes. I have some work calls to make, but I can do that on the way if I conference Callie in so she can take notes while I drive.”
He pulls my nipple into his mouth before letting it go with a pop and the sensation shoots straight between my legs. “You’re a busy woman.”
I close my eyes again when his fingers return to my clit. “You’re not exactly a slacker, either.”
“When are you going to make some time for me?” I feel his lips trail back down the center of my body.
“Tomorrow,” I breathe. “But not until late afternoon. My mother is hosting a lunch.”
“Every time you talk about your family you’re eating. I think I might like them.”
“Everything my mother does is centered around food or making sure her kids are perfect. She just had a heart attack. Trust me, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” My feet come off the table when he pushes my legs high and wide. When he blows on my sex, I moan.
“You’ve had a rough few weeks. I think you deserve an orgasm.”
I look down my body where he’s bent between my legs. He’s not playing any longer. “Oh, fuck.”
“Not now. But definitely later when I can take my time with you.”
I lose his eyes because he dips his head, wrapping his lips around my clit.
My head falls to the table with a clunk. “Please don’t stop this time.”
That spurs him on and he absolutely doesn’t stop. He wasn’t kidding when he said he missed me. Sliding a finger inside along with everything he’s doing with his mouth speeds my heart. I want to move, rub against him, do anything I can for more.
Pressing down on the table, I arch, but he’s still holding one of my legs and tightens his grip. He hooks his finger in my sex as he sucks. It starts to build to the point of no return.
“Eli,” I breathe on a gasp and reach for something to hold onto, but since I’m on my dining table, there’s nothing.
He lets go of my leg and grabs my ass with both hands, holding me to him. I push off the table with my feet—wanting more and needing him to stop all at the same time.
But it’s good. Better than good.
I don’t know what it is about him. Maybe it’s that he knows everything about me, my background—hell, there’s a good chance he knows my net worth, or at least a ballpark figure. But he hasn’t wanted anything from me but me. He doesn’t want a job or a business merger. He’s not just another Texan who comes from money who wants to increase his value by marrying into more money.
He only wants me.
And no one’s wanted only me for a long time. Maybe ever.
At least, I hope that’s the case.
My head lolls to the side on the hard surface but Eli doesn’t give me time to come down from my high. He wraps an arm under my back and lifts. I’m up in his arms and barely have the strength to wrap my legs around his hips again. When he moves to the sectional, we go down, me on his lap, but he doesn’t let me go. He leans back and fits me to his wide chest—my bare skin pressed up against his clothes. His cock is hard, pressing into me and I love how we fit. Like I was made for his chest, his arms, his cock.
We’d be perfect, if it wasn’t for pretty much everything else swirling around us.
Only I would find the one person perfect for me but no one can know about him because he’s a Special Agent with the FBI, who’s currently trying to take me down for something I didn’t do.
Eli rubs my back through the silk of my robe. My hair is going to be a mess from drying naturally.
Still. I don’t care. I sink onto his chest.
Eli puts his lips to the side of my frizzing hair. “Didn’t know what to expect from you this morning but it wasn’t that. I like your kind of welcome home.”
Hmm. Home.
I like it too, but I don’t say anything and I definitely don’t move an inch since he feels good, plus, I’m naked and pressed up against him.
His hands land on my ass and he sighs. “I take it you’re back to driving yourself around like a normal person?”
That might piss me off had he not just put his mouth between my legs and rocked my world, so I nod. “Says the Prophet who saves the world in leaps and bounds.”
“Now you’re mixing the Bible and comic books. My mother would chastise you.”
I smile and push up enough to look up at him but keep my breasts pressed to his chest. “So would mine.”
“Mine would also light a candle for you.”
“Catholic?” I ask.
He nods. “She kept a wooden spoon in her purse to easily reach me when I was fucking around during mass on Sunday mornings. I’m surprised I don’t have a permanent knot on the back of my head.”
My smile grows. “My mother is Southern Baptist. We were even baptized in a river. Just one more reason to add to the long list of reasons why this is a bad situation.”
“The worst.” He presses his hips up into me and I feel it on my still swollen clit when he smirks. “When do you need to leave?”
“In about two minutes. I’m going to be late.”
With his hands still on my ass, he pulls me up his body and puts his lips to my neck. “You staying there tonight?”
I dip my hands into his hair to hold on. “No. The house and guest house are full. I’ll be home eventually.”
He pulls me up farther and starts to run his tongue over the swell of my breast. “Will the sinners be drinking at this Baptist wedding?”
“Hell, yes. My mother always seems to get her way, but not with that.”
My knees are on the sofa straddling his hips, my robe is barely hanging onto my shoulders, but I find myself again not caring that I’m naked and he’s completely clothed when his tongue sneaks out to flick my nipple. “Let me pick you up.”
