Recluse: Wolfes of Manhattan Two

by HELEN HARDT

  “Can you blame him? His whole life was upended.”

  “No, I can’t blame him. I feel for him, actually. I’m damned glad my father didn’t decide to foist his company on me. I’d suck at being a CEO.”

  “Does Rock suck?”

  “Strangely, no. He seems to be handling it pretty well. Reid’s still pissed, though. He has to bring Rock up to speed on everything for a job he feels should be his.”

  “I know.” Lacey had told me the whole story. It was crazy, but to keep the inheritance in the family, Rock had to relocate here and head up the enterprise.

  “I don’t know my older brother very well,” Roy said. “He seems happily married, though. Crazy about Lacey.”

  “Then why are you worried about me going off with him?”

  “Who says I am?”

  “Are you kidding?” I held back a giggle. “It was written all over your face in the conference room. And when I got here, you would barely speak to me.”

  “I just… I had this whole thing planned for tonight.”

  “We still have tonight. I don’t leave until tomorrow.”

  “I know. Still…”

  “You’ve gone to the trouble to make dinner and it smells delicious. Let’s not spoil it.”

  “Okay.” He handed me my wine and then picked up his glass of bourbon. “To a night you’ll never forget, silver.”

  I smiled and clinked my glass to his. “To a night neither one of us will forget.”

  His meal was simple yet delicious. A mixed green salad with balsamic vinaigrette, the ziti, and garlic parmesan toast. I ate minimally, as I didn’t want that “stuffed” feeling for what was coming. Last thing I needed was a tummy bulge while we were frolicking naked.

  “I have some sorbet for a light dessert,” he said when he cleared the dishes—paper again.

  “Maybe later,” I said.

  “Sounds good.” Then he took my hand and pulled me into a stand next to him. “Ready for something amazing?”

  My nerves skittled across my skin as a warmth pulsed through me, landing between my legs. “Absolutely.”

  He kissed my forehead. “Follow me.”

  I eyed the door to his bedroom as he led me, my hand in his. I held back a gasp when he stopped in front of the door to his studio instead.

  Well, whatever worked for him would work for me. After all, we’d fucked in there last night. Perhaps he’d take me up against the wall again. That was hot. Or maybe we’d go into the master suite bathroom and fuck in the bathtub. Or maybe—

  He opened the door. “Surprise, silver.”

  12

  Roy

  Her mouth dropped open.

  I’d set up an easel with some cotton watercolor paper and a fresh set of colors. I brushed my lips over hers and whispered. “I want you to paint. I want you to paint me.”

  “But I—”

  I touched my fingers to her lips. “Be an artist, Charlie. Be who you were meant to be.” I unbuttoned my shirt.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to pose for you.”

  “Naked?”

  “I was thinking shirtless.” I pulled my hair out of the low ponytail and let it drape over my bare shoulders. “But I’m up for anything.”

  Her cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink. “I haven’t done this in ages.”

  “An artist remembers. Your hands will remember.”

  “But I painted buildings. Landscapes. Flowers. Never a portrait.”

  “Same rules. Paint what you see. Or what you don’t see.”

  “Abstract? I was never much into abstract.” She looked down at the palette of color. “Roy, I—”

  “This is for you,” I said. “If you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to.” Though I was secretly crushed. I honestly thought she’d enjoy this.

  “No, it’s not that.” She shook her head. “This is… This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Truly.”

  My heart warmed.

  “I just don’t know if I… I can’t possibly compare to you, Roy.”

  “Why would anyone, especially me, want to compare you to me?”

  “Well, you’ll see what I’m doing.”

  “Not if you don’t want me to.”

  “Really? You wouldn’t look?”

  “Honey, do you have any idea how long it took me to be able to show someone else my work?”

  “How long?”

  “Other than family, no one saw my work until I got to college.”

  “Still, you were younger then than I am now.”

  “True. But I’d been painting since I could walk.”

  She smiled, her cheeks still blushed.

  “Your work is yours. If you don’t want to share it, then don’t.”

  “You’re…”

  “What?”

  “You’re…amazing. That’s all. I’m just afraid…”

  “Of what?”

  “That you’ll see I’m a talentless hack next to you.”

  “No two artists are the same.”

  “Yeah, but some have talent, and others don’t.”

  “If you enjoy art, you probably have talent. You wouldn’t do it otherwise. But that doesn’t even matter. I told you I won’t look if you don’t want me to.”

  “You wouldn’t even be the slightest bit curious?”

  I laughed. “I didn’t say that.”

  The edge of jealousy was still there. I didn’t want Charlie flying off with my big brother tomorrow. But something dawned on me. How easily I laughed when I was in her company.

  I’d laughed more in the last couple days than I had in years.

  It felt good. Damned good.

  “So you do want to see it.”

  “Of course I want to see it! I’m an artist. I love art. I love looking at art.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “But I won’t look if you don’t want me to. Please, Charlie. Paint. Be an artist. Be true to yourself.”

  She smiled again.

  Then she began mixing colors.

  “Okay.” She set down her palette. “Done. For now. Some of it needs to dry before I continue.”

  I nodded. “All right.”

  Watercolor wasn’t a medium I used a lot because of that very thing. I tended to like immediate results. I didn’t have the patience to let something dry before I moved on.

  She rubbed at a few marks on her forearms. “Nice thing about watercolor. It’s a lot easier to clean up than oils.”

  “True.”

  I walked toward her, consciously avoiding looking at her work, though I had to force myself.

  Honestly? I didn’t care if the portrait sucked. I cared that she painted it.

  But I’d promised I wouldn’t look, so I didn’t.

  I pulled her away from the easel and pressed my lips to hers. “How did it feel? How did it feel to have a brush in your hand again?”

  She closed her eyes. “It was…heavenly.”

  “It’s a part of you, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. It works through me.”

  “Charlie. Silver. Those are the words of an artist.” I kissed her again. “Come with me.”

  I led her through my bedroom to the small bathroom and turned on the shower. “Just rinse off.”

  Her eyes widened. “Aren’t you going to join me?”

  I smiled. “If you insist.”

  We undressed quickly and walked under the warm pelting water. I eased her hair out of her ponytail and then ran my fingers through it as it got wet.

  My cock had jutted out in a full erection. Naked Charlie did that for me. Actually, it had been straining against my jeans during the entire sitting.

  She reached forward and touched my hair, now flattened against my head and shoulders by the water. “You have the most beautiful hair, Roy.”

  I smiled. “You’ve told me.”

  “I’ll say it again and again. You’re magnificent.”

  The Wolfes were genetically gif
ted. It was common knowledge. Derek and Connie Wolfe made pretty kids. None of us could deny it.

  But to hear Charlie Waters say I was magnificent took it to a whole new level.

  I wasn’t magnificent. Maybe my looks were. Riley’s sure were, and I was supposedly the male version of her.

  But magnificent wasn’t just on the outside. To be truly magnificent, the inside had to be a part of it. And on the inside, I was broken. Tormented by a secret I still hadn’t let out.

  Derek Wolfe was dead. He couldn’t harm me.

  But the others?

  I didn’t know who or where they were, whether they still existed.

  If I spilled what I knew—those facts I kept buried in the innermost part of me, so buried that I didn’t even allow myself to think them—bad things could happen.

  If something happened to me, I could handle it. At least I liked to think I could. But my brothers and sister?

  I couldn’t be responsible for anything befalling them. Riley was dealing with her own pain. She had issues I still didn’t fully understand. Rock, although newly married and seemingly happy, was also hiding something. I was sure of it. And Reid? He was a loaded gun. He’d had his birthright stripped from him and was prone to being an asshole anyway. Of the four of us, Reid was most like our father.

  Which was a scary prospect.

  “Roy?” Charlie cupped my cheek.

  I jerked out of my thoughts.

  “You okay? You were staring into space.”

  The warm water soothed me, and her touch soothed me even more.

  “I was staring at you.”

  “Nice try. You were a million miles away for a minute.”

  “I’m here now.” I bent my head and captured her mouth.

  She opened her soft lips and I swept my tongue around hers. Her tongue was so soft and inviting. So perfect against my own. Her lush breasts crushed against my chest as our bodies slid together under the warm droplets of water.

  I kissed her, banishing the troubling thoughts from my mind.

  And I knew one thing for sure.

  I was going to Montana with her tomorrow.

  13

  Charlie

  His kisses were magic. Pure magic. How else to describe something that transported me to another world—a world without anything negative.

  Bliss.

  Pure bliss.

  Our lips slid together as he deepened the kiss. How long had we been standing under the water? The last bit of watercolor on my body swirled down the drain. I clung to Roy, gripped his broad and muscular shoulders, tangled my fingers in his wet hair.

  We kissed, and we kissed, and we kissed.

  Until the water became lukewarm.

  Even then, he didn’t pull from the kiss, just eased me out of the shower and turned off the water.

  Still he kissed me as he pulled a giant cotton towel from the chrome rack and wrapped it around both our bodies. Though his hands were busy, our mouths never separated.

  Finally, I had to pull away and inhale.

  The hell with an inhale. That was a gasp.

  Water dripped onto my shoulders and chest from my wet hair. Roy smiled and handed me a smaller towel.

  I squeezed as much water as I could out of my hair and into the towel as he did the same.

  Then I looked at him. Just looked at this incredible man, his damp hair sticking to his shoulders, his cock huge and erect, even his large feet perfectly formed and beautiful, not a callus in sight.

  He stroked his index finger down my cheek and over my jawline. “You’re absolutely breathtaking, silver.”

  What did he see in me that was so special?

  I thought back to the portrait I’d begun in his studio. Yes, the techniques had come back to me. Yes, I’d been moderately pleased with the result so far. But I’d never be satisfied with it.

  I’d never be in the same artistic class as Roy Wolfe.

  Never in a million years.

  The man was a genius. He had painting in his soul. His work spoke to me—to everyone—on so many different levels.

  Then I couldn’t help smiling. The gorgeous abstract he’d created just last night, his depiction of me, hadn’t satisfied him.

  He didn’t think he got my eyes right.

  How could he not know that he’d glorified my eyes? Made them so much more than they were in reality?

  Was an artist never satisfied with his work?

  Was I no different from him?

  Emotion coiled through me. I was feeling something. Something new. Something vibrant and real and a little bit scary.

  It wasn’t love. It was way too soon for that.

  But this man had awakened something in me. Something I’d never known and could have never even imagined.

  “Roy.”

  “What, silver?”

  “Take me to your bed.”

  He didn’t pick me up and hoist me over his shoulder. No. I could imagine Rock doing that, but not Roy.

  There was a gentleness about Roy. Not in a sissy way, of course. But in a gentlemanly way. No, that wasn’t right either.

  He was an artist.

  And he’d make love like an artist.

  Last night had been fast and furious in his studio, But tonight…

  Tonight I’d experience the real Roy Wolfe.

  I couldn’t wait.

  He took my hand, entwining our fingers together, and led me out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. We were already undressed, which disappointed me in a way. How I’d have loved to peel each layer of clothing from him, exposing his majestic body inch by inch.

  Or grab both sides of his shirt and rip it off him, making the buttons fly.

  Or command him to strip for me and then ogle him as he disrobed, teasing me.

  Maybe I’d do all those things in the future.

  Maybe.

  Would there be more than just tonight?

  Would we ever have what Rock and Lacey had?

  Because damn, what I was feeling was…

  No, I’d already decided. It was too soon for love.

  Too soon…

  He gently pushed me down on the bed, knelt before me, and spread my legs. “I wanted to taste you so badly last night.” He inhaled. “You’re ripe, silver. Ripe and wet and pink and glistening. I can’t wait to bury my tongue deep inside you.”

  My nipples tightened and my pussy throbbed.

  I was so ready. How long had it been since someone had gone down on me? A long, long time. Blaine hadn’t liked it, though he’d had no problem with me blowing him, of course.

  The few times I’d experienced it, I’d loved it. Loved it.

  And now—

  “Oh!”

  His tongue slid over my clit.

  Shit. This wouldn’t take long.

  I closed my eyes and leaned downward until my back was flat on the bed. If it wasn’t going to last long, I sure as hell was going to savor every minute.

  “Damn, silver, you taste like heaven.”

  He nibbled at my clit this time, and then slid his tongue downward, over my slit and back up again.

  I gripped the comforter in my fists, tensing my thighs.

  “Relax, honey.” He kissed my inner thigh. “Relax and enjoy.”

  Oh, I was enjoying. I was just tense and eager. Couldn’t wait. Couldn’t wait—

  “Fuck!”

  Torpedoes shot through me.

  Torpedoes that shook me to my core.

  How was I coming after only a few seconds? How?

  But the how didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing except the explosion Roy was causing in my body, in my heart.

  I tingled, the shivers racing from my pussy outward, through my body, my limbs, my fingers and toes.

  One big quake took me over.

  I moaned. I yelled. What words, I couldn’t say. Only emotion emanated from me. All logic, all thoughts, were gone.

  When I finally began to descend, my pussy again became my focus. Fingers were ins
ide. Long thick fingers thrusting in and out, in and out, in and out.

  And a voice. A deep masculine voice.

  “You’re so hot, silver. So hot. Keep coming. Keep coming.”

  I sank then. Sank deep into Roy’s mattress, cloaked in sheer delight and contentment.

  I could never move again and be completely happy. Hopelessly and blissfully happy.

  Then a body hovered above me. A cock sank into me.

  And a wave of completeness shrouded me.

  Total completeness.

  One with this man—this special and amazing man.

  His hardness slid in and out of me, his cock burning a tunnel in my tight pussy. So good. So fucking good.

  I curled my legs up and around him, resting my calves on his ass as he pumped, his hips pistoning furiously.

  Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

  Every tissue in my body was on alert, highly sensitized. Until… Until… Until—

  “God!” I screamed as my second orgasm rolled from my clit into my core and then outward to the tips of my fingers.

  “Yes! Oh, God, yes!”

  “That’s it, silver. God, I can feel your pussy sucking against my cock. Feels so good. So good. So goo—”

  He pushed his cock into me balls deep, and my climax continued, pulsing around him.

  We came in tandem. Together and joined.

  And it was magnificent. Miraculous.

  Perfect in every way.

  When his cock finally stopped pulsing, he turned and fell onto his back next to me. My legs still hung off the side of the bed.

  My body was shiny with perspiration, and my heart thudded rapidly against my chest.

  Roy lay immobile, one arm across his forehead, the other resting on my belly.

  We stayed there, silent, for a few timeless moments. Until a phone rang.

  Roy jerked. “That’s me.”

  He got up and pawed around, looking for his phone, I assumed.

  When he finally found it, he said, “Yeah? This is Roy Wolfe.”

  14

  Roy

  “It’s me. Rock.”

  “What is it?”

  “I need you at the office first thing in the morning. I’ve set you and Reid up to plan our father’s memorial service.”