by Brynne Asher
In fact, right now, I know I wouldn’t.
That makes me all the colors of an asshole. But I’ve spent too much time giving my life to my job. One day, you wake up, you’re in your thirties, and have nothing to show for it besides a few newspaper articles singing your accomplishments that no one will remember next year.
Fuck yeah, I’m selfish. Because, if I had the chance to go back to Chicago to do the right thing—the only thing I should be thinking about right now—there’s no way I’d go. It’s an ugly fact and I’m not proud of it.
Right now, I want Jensen Montgomery and nothing else.
I get off the elevator and head for her door, thinking I need to get a key even though she said she’d be home by now since she cancelled her workout with Jase, which only reminds me that I need to convince her to cancel all future sessions with him.
I rap twice on the door and it doesn’t take long for it to open. But instead of the woman that I took for the first time this morning, it’s her father.
I’ve read up on Kipp Montgomery. Everything I found was carefully and methodically published—intricately crafted by some corporate communications manager. Now that I know Jen, I know it’s how he operates. He’s private, even more so than his daughter.
Standing there with a death grip on the door handle as he glares at me, I know enough about him to infer that right now he’s probably imagining me bound and hanging from a tree.
I don’t give a shit. In my job, I’m used to people not liking me, so I offer him my hand. “I didn’t introduce myself last night. Eli Pettit.”
The man with graying hair, who looks nothing like a cowboy—even though, from what I’ve read he’s so much of one he’s probably got dirt on his bones—doesn’t take my hand. “I know who you are. I’m not sure I can trust you with my daughter or my CFO but she’s doing her damnedest to convince me otherwise.”
Before I have the chance to help convince him of anything, Jen puts a hand to her father’s bicep and forces him to step back. She looks tired and worn down, but no less beautiful. When she grabs my hand and pulls me through the doorway, the fact that I’m all kinds of an asshole might as well be written in the stars because there’s no way on earth Sarah can drag my ass out of the Lone Star State at this point.
Jen ignores her father and lifts up on her toes to press her lips to mine as her father grimaces. “Don’t worry, Eli. He doesn’t have a say on who I trust myself with.”
Kipp throws the door shut so hard that it would’ve rattled the windows off the house I grew up in, but here, in this building of steel, it doesn’t even squeak. “Fine, do what you want outside of work, but I’m not giving him access to my company. Not while he’s trying to hang a case on you.”
Jen lets my hand go and moves to her kitchen. She’s changed into a long sleeve cotton dress that hits the middle of her bare thighs and she’s barefoot—a complete contradiction to who she is when she puts on her CFO armor. I’m not sure which turns me on more.
She rubs her face and sounds tired as she continues with a conversation that must’ve been going on long before I got here. “Dad, you’re not thinking clearly. You’re normally even-keeled and logical, but even you have been affected by what’s happened. Losing Patrick and then Trig showing up today … I’m doing my best to be patient, but do not put me in the position you have and question my judgment.”
I dump my bags on her dining table and look through her kitchen where she’s stirring something at the stove that smells like garlic and onions. “Who’s Trig?”
Her father practically growls under his breath and Jen turns to me, arms folded. “It’s drama-central, but Trig is Easton Barrett, my new lead attorney. Trust me, you don’t want to know, but I’ll tell you later. We don’t need to dredge it all up in front of my dad, he might have a coronary.”
I raise a brow but don’t say anything.
Jen pushes off of the counter where she was leaning and goes to her fridge. “You want a beer, Dad?”
Kipp sits on the sofa and leans back, closing his eyes. “No. I gotta get home to your mama. She’s holding it together because we have Jordy and Cara this week, but she’s a mess about Patrick. I shouldn’t have left her today but I had no choice.”
She pulls a beer out of the fridge and grabs a glass of wine that was sitting on the counter, making her way straight to me. She hands me the beer and goes to a chair across from her father but looks to me. “Tell him about yourself.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
She gives me her eyes before slicing them to her father. “He went to Harvard, Dad—on scholarship—and studied finance with a minor in criminal justice. He worked white-collar crimes before he went undercover and took down the MacLachlans, pretty much single-handedly. Do not sit there and pretend that’s not impressive because, if there’s anyone in this world who appreciates hard work, it’s you.”
Kipp leans back and stares at the high ceiling.
Jen looks to me and her face says it all—she’s exhausted and she’s had enough. “I need to ask you to do something that might not be ethical.”
I put down the beer I’ve yet to take a drink of and cross my arms. “What?”
Her dad frowns at her. “There are other ways.”
She never takes her pleading eyes off me and I wonder if I could ever say no to her. “I want to give you full access to Montgomery Industries. Security, networks, electronic files—everything. I want you to find what the PI uncovered and told Patrick. We couldn’t find anything on Patrick’s laptop or in his email. All the information he was given must’ve been done over the phone or in person. It’s only a matter of time before authorities will follow those leads but I want it done in-house.”
She’s right. It’s not ethical, especially when she hasn’t been dismissed yet, and it’s not officially my case.
But it falls into that gray area I have no problem treading. And I was right, I doubt there’s anything I’d ever deny her. “I’ll do it.”
Her face falls in relief. “Thank you.”
Kipp pulls himself to his feet and he looks as tired as his daughter. He walks over to her and lifts her chin to look up at him. “The only reason I’m letting this happen is because I run a tight ship and I know you’ve done nothing wrong.” He looks to me and adds, “And because you saved my daughter’s life. She just spent the last hour convincing me you’re not trying to take advantage of her. Make no mistake, Pettit. You do not want to see what it looks like to cross my family.”
Jen grabs her father’s hand and lowers her voice. “Dad, enough.”
“You’ll be okay if I leave? I need to get home. Your mama and I are going to see Millie tomorrow so I won’t be in until later, if at all.”
“I don’t know how many ways to tell you that I’m fine. How are Jordy and Cara?”
Kipp sighs and whatever argument they were having before I walked in is brushed to the side. He leans down to kiss his daughter on the forehead. “Ellie said she’d spend the day with the kids tomorrow. Cam called and offered to come home early. He’s worried about Jordy and Cara but Ellie assured him they’re none the wiser to everything that’s goin’ on.”
Jen nods and Kipp turns to grab his suit jacket off the back of the sectional. When he turns to look at me, I get a glare and a shake of his head. Then he’s out the door and I can’t lie—I’m glad.
“He’ll come around,” I hear from behind me as I go to flip the lock on her door, not wanting another distraction or hellacious storm to burst into our lives again until at least tomorrow morning. When I turn, she’s headed back to the kitchen. “He doesn’t do well when anything is out of his control and, right now, his grasp on life is slippery at best.”
I follow her into the kitchen and press my front into her back, putting a hand low on her hip. I look over her shoulder as she tosses shrimp into the garlic mixture. “That smells good.”
She turns and looks up at me with her soulful brown eyes. “I ordered groceries today. Li
fe might suck right now, but cooking for you is my attempt at simple. Hummus doesn’t seem to impress you.”
I turn and press her back into the island and push a chunk of hair out of her face. “You’re cooking for me.”
“You did save my life yesterday.”
I lean in and put my lips below her ear and taste her skin before I murmur, “Saving someone’s life calls for a steak.”
She fists my shirt and presses her body to mine. “I’ll remember that, but I don’t have a grill and, even if I did, I don’t know how to cook a steak. You don’t like seafood?”
“Growing up, Hamburger Helper was a treat. But, if you’re cooking, I’ll eat anything.”
“Now I feel bad I’m not feeding you a steak. I grew up in a house where food represented emotions with my mother and I’ve done everything I can to break that.”
I lean down to put my lips on hers and drop my hands to her waist, yanking her short dress up. When I put my hands on her tiny panties over her sweet ass, I squeeze. “If the last few years have shown me anything, it’s that life’s too short for that shit. You celebrate everything you can and don’t push any emotion away. You never know when they’ll be gone. Revel in it while you can, baby.”
Her eyes turn wet and I’m sure she’s thinking about her attorney and friend, but bullshitting or treading lightly isn’t my way. The moment I decided I wanted her was when I set all shit aside and put my wants first for a change. As long as she’s in my life, I’m going to make damn sure she does the same.
The shrimp and garlic sizzle, filling her kitchen with its aroma and making my stomach growl but she doesn’t move away from me. She wipes her eyes and gets control of her emotions. “Can you grill a steak?”
I raise a brow. “I was a recruit for the MacLachlan family and part of my responsibilities was cooking for the men. I didn’t want my ass capped for overcooking meat, so I learned how to grill a steak.”
Her eyes widen. “Wow.”
“Yeah, wow.” I give her ass a light slap and let her go so I can stir our dinner. “What else are we having?”
She tosses some pasta into another pot of boiling water. “Angel hair, salad, bread, and I even got a chocolate cake. But I didn’t bake it. I don’t grill and I don’t bake.”
I pick up my beer. “I’ll grill and we’ll order in from a bakery. Looks like this might work after all.”
She takes a sip of her wine and gives me a small smile.
I change the topic. “You sure you want me to look into things at work? Your dad wasn’t too happy about that. In fact, he’s not too happy about me in general.”
She puts her wine down and sighs. “My dad can deal with it. I need to know what’s going on within the walls of MI. You’ll have access to anything you want but no one else needs to know besides you, my father, and my attorneys. You can access anything you need through my login. I’m afraid whoever is behind this will be tipped off if we create a new profile for you, but you’re the investigator. If you need something, say the word and I’ll make it happen.”
“You feel unsafe at work?” I ask.
She frowns instantly. “No. But before the shooting Sunday, I just thought this was someone trying to frame me. I should talk to my dad about installing metal detectors at the main entrance. It’ll be a pain for employees, but I can’t bear the thought of anyone else getting hurt.”
“I agree. This isn’t just a legal issue anymore. What’s with your new attorney?”
She closes her eyes and sighs. When she looks back up at me, she strangely asks, “You ever have someone from your past show up and, even though life was already off-kilter, it really throws your shit into a tailspin? That’s what happened to me today.”
My muscles tighten. I don’t mean for my tone to have an edge, but I can’t help it. “What does that mean?”
She puts a hand to my abs and presses in. “Settle down there, big guy. That’s not what I meant. He knew our family years ago. He and I were friends, but only in a way that kept my little sister out of trouble.” She raises a brow and I force myself to relax, but I still don’t give her any space. “Trig showing his face in the Big D at any time would be a soap opera in the making, but now? And as my lead attorney?” She shakes her head. “Let’s just say, my father’s week got worse today.”
I lift a brow. “You don’t trust this guy?”
Her answer comes quick and resolute. “I trust him, but my dad would’ve kicked him across the Red River if he could’ve the minute Trig stepped foot into that conference room. There’s bad blood there and it doesn’t just have to do with Ellie.”
I only nod because I don’t have the time for her family drama. “If you want me to look into things, I’m going to need access to Patrick’s office, too. Do you know if anyone’s been through his stuff yet?”
“His office has been locked and I ordered for his electronic files to be copied into a private file for me. But after yesterday, I’m not sure how safe anything is anymore.”
I wrap my arms around her, pulling her to me. “It’s time to do everything you can to be vigilant. I want you to keep your eyes open—anything you see out of the ordinary, call me.”
“Thank you.” She fists my shirt again, presses herself to me, and her voice dips, brushing across my jaw in a way that makes me hard. “For everything.”
I pick her up and plant her ass on the island and pull her to me for a kiss. What I don’t tell her is that I’m being pulled into the SAC’s office in the morning about my involvement with her. I’m not looking forward to it, but I’m also not worried. I also don’t tell her that I’m tracking Bree and how she followed me here tonight. And I certainly don’t tell her about my own drama in Chicago. She’s trying for simple and I need to give her that. “I’m hungry—and for more than what’s on your stove. I’ll finish dinner so we can eat and forget about everything else.”
Her eyes flare and her thighs tighten at my hips, telling me she wants that as much as I do.
Yeah, I’m hungry.
Chapter 22
Beg
Jen
“Oh, fuck. Eli … please.”
“Not yet.”
“I can’t take anymore.”
“You can and you will. Love watching you like this, baby.”
I ate dinner sitting on the island with Eli standing between my legs. If he doesn’t like shellfish, he didn’t let on because he inhaled my easy meal in the time I barely made a dent in mine. Then he asked more questions about Montgomery Industries than I had the answers to.
When I was full and put my plate down, we didn’t do the dishes. Eli’s eyes turned dark and he yanked at the hem of my dress, pulling it over my head. After he popped my bra and I was sitting on my island almost naked in the bright lights of my kitchen, he pulled me to him.
I didn’t hesitate. After my day, I needed him like I needed my next breath. I wanted nothing more than to get lost in him.
In us.
I wrapped myself around him and he carried me to my bedroom where he proved my dinner didn’t fill him up. He slid my panties off and put his mouth between my legs, devouring me like a starved man.
I really need to find a time to pay him back for all his oral attentions.
But he didn’t let me come.
He drove me out-of-my-mind crazy with his tongue and lips and teeth before flipping me over to my stomach where I’m bent over the side of my bed in front of him. Now I’m doing something I’ve never done in my life—beg.
“Knees up and keep your cheek to the bed.”
Oh hell. In all my years, I’ve never done this, either. I mean, he still has all his clothes on and I’m pretty sure he’s still wearing his shoes, as opposed to me, who’s lying here buck naked.
“Thought you wanted it, baby.” I haven’t moved but he keeps talking as his fingers graze the curve of my ass.
I squeeze my legs together, looking for some relief but it’s as useless as an umbrella in a hurricane, which is what I feel bui
lding. My clit is hungry—maybe even a little grumpy—for being teased almost to the point of no return before being ditched like a bad date.
I peek over my shoulder. With nothing but a dull ache between my legs and desire pooling deep in my gut, I have no clue why I’m hesitating besides the fact I’m not sure I want my ass in the air for his full view.
I feel his hands grip me and squeeze to the point it stings, but in a way that only makes me want more. It’s not hard to see the greedy possession in his features since all the lights in my room are shining like beacons.
He raises a brow and challenges me. “What, you trust me with your three-quarters-of-a-billion-dollar corporation but not your body?”
I close my eyes and swallow hard because he makes a legitimate point.
“Jen,” he calls and I open my eyes. “Thought we just talked about how life is too short not to take it by the horns and suck it dry.”
I press my ass into his hands but that’s all I give him when I say, “We were talking about dinner, not kink, Mr. FBI Agent.”
His eyes travel down my body to where his hands are and I feel his fingers return between my legs. He slides a finger inside me where I’m wet—no, drenched. When he pulls it out, it feels like silk when he draws it up between my ass cheeks, resting it there, making me gasp. He catches my eyes. “You’re the one talking about kink now, not me. Never thought I’d be into the mister shit but I think I could get used to Mr. FBI Agent.”
I squeeze my ass around his finger where it’s hovering and take a breath, trying to get hold of myself. All this chatting with his finger challenging the no-go zone is strangely making me more wet. “Seriously?”
He looks at me as I feel his hand land in a smack on my ass, making me moan. “Up, baby. I promise it’ll be good.”
I have no doubt anything he’d do will be good. The way I’m feeling right now, it has the potential to be so good, I’m afraid I won’t say no to him—ever.
I push up onto the balls of my feet and climb, one knee at a time, to the edge of my bed.
