by Silver James
Walking up behind her, he stopped her from taking off her sweater. “I’ll do it.”
She glanced over her shoulder, her expression concerned. He had sounded gruffer than he’d intended but he needed to be in control tonight. To take charge. To do things his way. Residual resentment from his father’s actions lingered, but he refused to allow thoughts of the old man to intrude into his bedroom.
Cash yanked the sweater over her head and tossed it away. As he stroked her bare belly, her silky flesh felt smooth against the calloused tips of his fingers. She shivered beneath his touch and tried to turn in his arms.
“No.” He whispered the order against her temple, one arm banding her in place. With his free hand, he captured her wrists and locked them together, his grip firm, unyielding, yet gentle.
“I’m taking you.” His voice was clogged with something he didn’t want to name. It couldn’t be need. He wouldn’t let it. “I’m taking you the way I want to.”
“I want—”
“No, Red.” She struggled a little and he tightened his hold on her. “You’ll get what you want. I promise.” He unfastened the center hook of her bra and teased the straps off over the points of her shoulders. “But I get what I want first.”
At the moment, he wanted her naked. When he dropped his arm to undo her belt buckle and jeans, her bra fluttered open, the straps catching on her elbows. He brushed the hair off the nape of her neck with his chin and nuzzled. He murmured his next command against her skin. “Lose the boots, Red.”
“Let me go.”
Cash felt his rumbling chuckle all the way through her body. He slid his hand into her jeans, teasing her over her panties. “Boots.” He tightened his grip when she twitched.
He scooped her long hair and draped it over one shoulder, kissing his way along her jaw. He captured her chin and turned her head so he could claim her lips, slipping his fingers inside her panties as he did. Teasing her mouth open with his tongue, he did the same with his finger, both plunging into her at the same time. Her body went limp and he swallowed her tiny whimper of need.
Dazed, she leaned against him, tried to toe off one boot, then finally managed and kicked it away. She rubbed against him as she worked on the other boot. He slipped a second finger inside her. She was wet, hot, her sex clamping around him as he stroked her. She shuddered and gasped as a mini-orgasm hit. He didn’t give her time to recover, instead urging her forward.
“On the bed, Red. Facedown.”
She did as she was told and he stripped her socks and jeans off. Kneeling next to the bed, he rolled her panties down, leaving kisses in the path of their removal. He knelt behind her and spread her knees. Cash intended to take his time, to touch, to taste, to wring every bit of passion from her. When his mouth clamped over her, she erupted.
He held her down on the bed with a forearm across the small of her back. She bucked and writhed, her moans stifled by the thick comforter as she pressed her face against the bed. He feasted on her, tempering his tender assault with kisses along her thighs and cheeks.
Cash glanced up and smiled. Her hands had fisted the comforter and her eyes were squinted shut. Her back heaved with each shuddering breath she sucked in.
“Please,” she cried. “Please. I can’t. No more.”
Heat radiated from her and her skin was tinted rose. He was so hard he had to clench his teeth. He wanted to be inside her so badly he was about to go insane but he held on. He wasn’t done with her. “You can. You will.”
* * *
Cash’s fingers filled her, teased her, pumped into her. She could barely breathe, much less speak as his tongue worked her into a frenzy. She begged, sobbing, but still he wouldn’t stop. She spiraled higher and higher, and when she shattered, she couldn’t control the shaking. A moment later, he was beside her, naked, warm, turning her over and sliding inside.
If she’d had enough breath, Roxie would have screamed from the pleasure of it all. She managed to keep her eyes open, fixed on his face, and what she saw there melted her heart. She’d fallen for Cash, was in-over-her-head in love with him. She clutched him, arching into his body as he made love to her. When she fell the third time, he went with her.
There was a breathless moment of his weight, his warmth, holding her down before he rolled off. He pulled her to him, cuddled her.
“Breathe, Red,” he commanded with a pleased chuckle.
She gulped in air, expanded lungs starved for oxygen, found her voice. “Yeah, easy for you to say.”
Cash didn’t respond and she opened her eyes, tilting her head on his shoulder so she could see his face. He looked infinitely sad and she cringed, the bliss welling inside her popping like gossamer soap bubbles.
Roxie had no pet name for him. No honey or sweetheart. Nothing as maddeningly endearing as Red but calling him by name in this moment seemed...out of sync. Almost harsh. She laughed at herself for even having enough brain cells to rub together after three mind-blowing orgasms. Sliding her cheek against his skin, she curled her fingers through the feathering of dark hair on his chest.
“Thinking too hard, Red.”
Cash’s voice grumbled beneath her cheek.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re the one thinking. I should be asking you that question.”
“Worried for you.”
“Not worth worrying over.”
“Yes, you are.”
And that was the root of the problem. Roxie caught a glimpse of the lonely man he hid from the world before Cash shuttered his expression.
“Cash?”
“I’m fine, Roxanne.” He rolled into her, claimed her mouth for a deep kiss, and she knew he was trying to distract her.
When he broke the kiss to nuzzle her breast, she tried again. “What’s the deal with your sisters-in-law?”
A low growl emanated from the back of his throat. “I’ve got your nipple in my mouth and you want to talk about them?”
“Yes. They don’t like you much.”
“Duh.”
“I’d like to know why...and don’t give me that family drama excuse. Your brothers came when Alan alerted them to save you from them.”
“Hardly. They came to see the show.” He sighed and settled on his back, one arm tucked behind his head, his other still curled around her. “Look, Barron men aren’t exactly lucky in love. And there were unpleasant circumstances surrounding each of the women my brothers fell for.”
“They seem happy enough now.”
“Yeah.” He stared at the ceiling. “Look, I did the job I was given. I served legal papers on Cassidy. I made sure Cord could claim the son he had with Jolie. I...” Cash closed his eyes. “I tried to save Clay from living through the illness and death of another woman he loved.”
“Another?”
“His mother, when he was a kid. Then Georgie.”
“But Georgie didn’t die.”
“I underestimated her strength. And his.”
“And Chase?”
“No.”
“His wife really dislikes you.”
“Yeah.”
She stroked her fingers along the dips and curves of his chest and abdomen, continuing even when he spoke again. “They...when they got married, they didn’t love each other.”
“How could you know that?”
“They’d known each other for all of forty-eight hours when they eloped.”
Something in his voice alerted her to more underlying currents. “Do you feel...left out?”
Cash glanced at her sharply. “Why should I?”
“I have the impression that the five of you used to hang around together. A lot.”
“Clay is twelve years older. We never hung around. And he’s been in Washington for years. Chance is six years older, Cord eight. We didn’t hang with them either.”
“Maybe not as kids, but as adults. I mean, you all work in the same building. Well, except Clay. Surely you did lunch occasionally or went out for happy hour? And there had
to be times at the ranch—” The expression on his face dried her mouth up and no more words came. As quickly as she stopped speaking, he shut down, his eyes glinting with cynicism, those full lips that could work such magic on her pressed into a hard line.
“Leave it be, Roxie. You can’t change things. They are what they are.” He kissed her forehead, to take the sting out of his harsh tone, she suspected.
She raised her face to his and claimed a real kiss before murmuring, “Tomorrow is another day.”
Fifteen
Cash was exhausted. He’d had meetings with his father every day this week. They’d recovered half the stolen cattle, and a situation at one of the hotels in Florida had been resolved without a lawsuit thanks to his investigators, but there was still no sign of the freaking Rowlands. Today, he’d dodged a bullet; his father had gone off on some tangent that didn’t involve him. Still, every meeting had ended with the same question, “Have you gotten rid of that woman yet?”
And he’d stalled. He told himself he didn’t need Roxie in his life. Part of him didn’t want her there, yet there she was, day in and day out. And nights in his bed, even if he was too worn out from stress to do anything but hold her while he slept. She was always just...there. Smiling. Occasionally making him laugh. Always ready for his kisses—and more. Since he was being honest, he also liked having her big, goofy dog underfoot, too.
He paused in the lobby to send Roxie a text.
Meet me in my office. Two stops to make, then we’ll sneak out early.
They’d go home, change and then he’d take her to Donovan’s. He thought Roxie would enjoy listening to the Irish folk group slated to perform there. With April almost here, the weather had turned mild and the band would be playing on the patio, so Harley would be comfortable.
Cash got off the elevator at the thirty-sixth floor and dropped a file off at the reception desk for Barron Exploration. There’d been a situation involving embezzlement by a BarEx employee. The file held the evidence of the investigation Cash had run. Next stop, Barron & Associates to drop off a copy for Chance.
He didn’t bother waiting for the elevator, opting for the stairs since he was headed down only two floors. Pushing through the fire door, he all but knocked Nick down.
“Hey, boss!” The kid grinned at him while glancing at the file. “If you need to deliver that, I can take it.”
“Yeah, thanks.” He passed off the paperwork and headed back to the elevator. Cash felt wound up tight, and he very much wanted to get out of his corporate skin to spend time with Roxie. The elevator opened and as soon as he saw his father, he knew all bets were off.
“Cashion.”
He resisted the urge to slump his shoulders in defeat. Posture stiff, he stepped into the elevator. “Not here, Dad. My office.”
Cheri looked up as they walked in and her smile faded. Then his assistant’s face twitched as an elaborate and unreadable set of expressions danced across her face. He didn’t have time to decipher them today. He wanted to get rid of his father, grab Roxie and get the hell away from the office. He pushed his door open and led the way into his inner sanctum, closing the door behind his dad.
“I’m tired of waiting, Cashion.”
“For what, Dad?” He did his best not to sound as tired as he felt.
“For you to get rid of that woman. She’s still in your house.”
“My private life isn’t up for discussion.”
“When it involves women like her, it does. How much are those criminals costing us?”
“I’m on top of the investigation, Dad. Let me do the job you hired me for.”
“And that’s the operative word, isn’t it? Or have you forgotten I’m the one who signs your paycheck?”
“Kinda hard to do that when you’re in my face reminding me every five minutes.” Cash wanted to retract those words the second they left his mouth.
“I expected better of you, Cashion. The older boys were too coddled by their mother. And Chasen was too erratic. I put all my hope in you, boy. You were to be my legacy. My one true son. And look what you’re doing to me.”
“What, Dad? What am I doing to you?” The beast that was his temper had escaped its cage. “I’m doing exactly what you ask of me. No matter the damn consequences. I’ve done everything in my power to protect this family, to make sure our companies run smoothly, to make sure no one can mess with us.”
“But that woman is still in your bed.”
“So what, Dad? How many bimbos have you bedded for the sex? Because that’s what this is. Roxie is the key to prosecuting her family and if she wants to put out while we wait for the next move, how is that any different from the women who warm your bed?”
He headed toward his desk, then faltered. The snow globe that normally occupied a spot near the one photo he allowed in his office was missing. His gaze swept the desktop. The framed photo, of the Barron brothers sitting on a fence at the ranch at Christmastime, was untouched. He and Chase had been eight the year they received antique snow globes from their mother, two weeks before she was killed by a drunk driver.
“Are you listening to me, boy?” Cyrus grabbed his arm, spun Cash around. “I’ve had all of the foolishness I can stomach. It’s time to get rid of her and move on. I need your full attention. I’ve written off your brothers but I expect you to live up to your obligations.”
His father stalked to the door and pushed it open. “I’m disappointed in you, boy.”
Cash followed him out into the private reception area. At least Cheri was nowhere to be seen, so no one would see his fall from grace. It was all he could do to maintain his equilibrium. He’d built his whole life around pleasing this man, around getting his respect and acceptance. And now his father was threatening to rip it all away because he’d allowed his desire for a woman to overshadow his duty. He should have known better.
“Get rid of her, Cashion, or you will both be sorry. You know what I’m capable of.”
Cash stood stock-still, a burning ache knotting his stomach. He knew exactly what his father was capable of. Remaining outwardly calm, he said, “Why are you threatening me, Dad?”
Cyrus stepped up to him, circled. Cash turned to keep his father in front of him until Cash’s back was to the open office door.
“You were my protégé, the one I spent years grooming. And now you betray me. Over some woman. You’re no better than them.” Cyrus waved a hand in the direction behind Cash before he pushed past and stormed away.
A hand landed on Cash’s shoulder. “Welcome to the club, bro.”
He shook off his twin’s grip and faced his brothers. Why were all of them here? Clay stayed in Washington and Chase traveled constantly. Though Cord and Chance occupied their offices on a daily basis, Cash didn’t often interact with them, hadn’t since they’d married. Each of his brothers wore an expression of pity. Pity for him. “Screw you, Chase.”
Cash didn’t need this BS. He’d always put the family first, done what was right for the Barron name. He reminded himself that Roxie was only in his life because of a threat to the family. And it wasn’t like anything was going on between them. Besides the sex. Which was, admittedly, some of the best he’d ever had. But she was just a means to an end. He didn’t have feelings for her. None. She was simply a distraction, like his father insisted. He didn’t want her. Certainly didn’t need her.
In fact, he couldn’t wait to move her and that damn slobbering beast of hers out of his condo. He wanted life returned to normal—ordered, calm, collected. No more lacy bras hanging in his bathroom. No slug slime on his tailored slacks. No muddy footprints on the leather seats in his Range Rover. No more sexy woman sharing his bed.
Chase threw his head back and laughed. “Yup, dazed and confused. She must be some kind of woman to make the last Barron brother bite the dust.”
“You aren’t nearly as funny as you think you are.” Cash glared at his brothers. “Some reason all of you are hanging around here? If you’re just waiting for Dad
to hand my ass to me again, too late. Show’s over and you can get on back to your lives.”
He stormed into his office and jerked the door shut, ignoring the soft protests he left in his wake. Cash had more important things to do—like get rid of a woman he should never have been involved with.
Sixteen
Roxie managed to keep her breathing controlled and quiet. Ducking under Chase’s desk had been a monumental mistake, especially since his father had followed him in and shut the door. Their argument raged over her head and she hadn’t missed a word. The same with the confrontation Cash had with his brothers. When the door slammed, she remained in hiding, her heart hammering in her chest.
The fact that it was still beating surprised the heck out of her. The things Cord said didn’t break her, they shredded her. And made her angry. She was such a fool.
“You can come out now, Roxanne.” Cash’s voice sounded flat.
She crawled out from the kneehole and used his luxurious leather desk chair as a prop to climb to her feet. Facing the windows, her back to the room, she did not want to turn around, did not want to face Cash’s anger. The argument had been terrible and personal and she was an interloper who had no right to have been a witness, but she was angry, too.
Swallowing her emotions, she turned to confront the man she’d come to love. His expression broke her heart, her anger dissolving in the face of his pain. His normally tan skin held a gray pallor. His full lips—which were quirked into a sardonic smile more often than not—drooped at the corners. His eyes were empty, bleak. His pain was almost visceral.
Her eyes filled with tears as she faced the despondent man—a man determined to hide his feelings, as desolate and lonely as that action might make him. Roxie wanted to run to him, wrap her arms around him, hold him. Tell him how she felt. She did none of those things. Anything of the sort would be rebuffed. She could tell by looking at his stiff posture.
