by R. R. Banks
Copyright © 2019 by R.R. Banks
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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“Watch my sister and keep her safe.”
* * *
The brute and the novelist.
How incompatible can we be?
I can’t believe my big brother asked that caveman to watch over me.
The craziest part?
He’s a billionaire with his own football team.
Shouldn’t he have better ways to spend his time?
I for one would rather not spend my days fighting with that jerk!
But when the lines get blurred and our fights turn into burning desire.
How much longer can I keep him at bay?
When he tells me, I’ve changed him and made him a better man.
It takes everything in me not to stay by his side.
But his bad boy reputation doesn’t exactly make him an ideal family man.
* * *
With his baby on the way, I’m left wondering…
Can I really make this work with my brother’s best friend?
Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Epilogue
Surprise Gift (Sample)
A Note from the Author
About the Author
Also by R.R. Banks
Knox
Thirteen Years Ago…
“Here’s to us,” Peter calls out to the crowd. “Blackford University, Class of 2006!”
We all raise our shot glasses, cheering wildly, then drink them down. The tequila burns as it slides down my throat, making me grimace. You’d think after four years of training, I’d be a pro by now – and yet, tequila still manages to kick my ass. Every damn time.
The music is pumping so loud and hard, I can feel the thumping in the floor beneath our feet. The pictures sway on the walls and the beer in our red cups vibrates like that fuckin’ T-Rex scene in Jurassic Park.
I have no idea whose house this is, but between the loud music, even louder screaming voices, and assorted people passed out in the front yard as well as the street, I bet the neighbors are pissed. I’m actually surprised the cops haven’t been called yet.
Peter throws his arm around my shoulder and squeezes me tight, making me nearly spill my beer. I laugh and push him away.
“Four years in this place,” he grins. “Can you believe it? Can you believe we’re all done with this shit?”
I shake my head. “I thought it would never end, man.”
“That makes two of us, brother,” Peter says.
“Hey, Amber!” Peter calls.
Amber Sutter – the stereotypical busty blonde cheerleader, and a recent conquest of mine – looks over at us. When she sees me standing there with Peter, her face darkens, and her expression goes from a warm smile to looking like she’d just smelled rotting meat.
She turns away quickly, obviously sickened by the sight of me. Yeah, things didn’t end very well between us. That’s fine, though. There’s plenty more like her where she came from. There is definitely no shortage of girls who will raise their skirts for a young, rich, good looking guy – a pretty good description of me, I’d say. Besides, I’d never promised her anything. If Amber ever thought there was some implied relationship between us just because I screwed her, that’s on her. Not me.
Peter cackles and slaps me on the back. “Doesn’t seem like you’re getting into her panties again anytime soon.”
I shrug. “I could hit it again if I wanted to, brother.”
“Sure you could,” he replies, obviously skeptical.
I grin at him. “Care to put your money where your mouth is?”
“Hundred bucks says she doesn’t let you sniff her panties, let alone take them off again.”
“Make it interesting,” I say. “Make it five hundred.”
“You’re on,” he laughs. “Might as well pay me now though. She hates you, man.”
I arch my eyebrow at him. “Better ask your folks for some money because you’re gonna owe me, and I don’t take IOU’s, Peter.”
He laughs like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard in his life, and then like a two-year-old with an attention disorder, Peter wanders off. He does that a lot when he’s drunk – which means, he wanders off all the damn time. I finish my beer, grab another one, and walk out to the back patio. It’s chaos out here. People are running around, laughing, and screaming. Given how many people are screwing in that pool, it’s going to need a hell of a lot of chlorine.
Now that we’re officially graduates, everyone is really cutting loose. This is just crazy.
I walk past the pool, find a quiet spot – quiet being a relative term, of course – and sit down. I sip my beer as I look up at the sliver of moon hanging high in the sky overhead. I’m a graduate. It’s a thought – a reality – I’m still having trouble grasping.
There was a time I didn’t think I would ever finish out my degree. I know I wasn’t the best student ever and didn’t take my education as seriously as I should have. Or at least, as seriously as my father thought I should. I just found it totally dry and boring as hell. I just wanted to have some fun.
It wasn’t until my senior year, when I was teetering on the verge of being kicked out of school because of my poor academic record, and my dad threatened to cut me off financially, that I woke up and started taking my education seriously.
Mostly seriously anyway – the girls around campus still provided plenty of distractions for me.
I did it, though. I graduated. Maybe by the skin of my teeth, but I did it. I’m looking forward to throwing it in my dad’s face, since he didn’t think I could actually pull it off. He didn’t even come to the commencement ceremony.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
I look up and see Tiffany Reynolds standing there with a wide smile on her face. She’s a cute girl with brown hair, long legs, and a figure that doesn’t quit. After I figured out, I had to get my head on straight and hit the books, Tiffany tutored me. And despite being a constant distraction thanks to that incredible body of hers, she helped me get my grades up.
Ever since then, I’ve thought about hooking up with her. I just haven’t had the opportunity – she’s not quite as open-minded as some of the girls on campus. But I’m a patient guy, and it lo
oks like my patience is finally paying off.
Tiffany sits down in the chair next to me and sets her cup down on the table between us. “Can you believe it? We did it,” she squeals. “We actually did it.”
“Yeah,” I reply. “It’s pretty awesome.”
“It’s really awesome,” she says with a giggle.
“What’s next for you?” I ask her.
“Law school,” she tells me.
I arch an eyebrow at her. “More school?”
She shrugs. “It’s kind of necessary, since I plan on being a lawyer and all.”
“Well, that sucks.”
“Could be worse,” she goes on. “At least I didn’t dream of being a doctor when I was a kid. That’d be a hell of a lot more school.”
I raise my cup to her. “Thank goodness for lower ambitions.”
She laughs and picks up her cup, tapping it against mine. We both drink and sit back in our seats, staring up at the moon. I want nothing more in that moment than to take her into the house and bang her like a drum, but with a girl like Tiffany, I know I need to play it a little cooler.
This is all just a game. A coordinated dance. We both have our parts to play. I know I can’t rush things, or I risk spooking her.
“What about you?” she quizzes me. “What’s next for Knox Vaughn? Going to take over your dad’s business and take over the world?”
“Fuck no,” I growl.
My dad built a vast empire developing commercial real estate. It’s about the most uninteresting and boring thing I can think of spending my life doing. Just contemplating it makes me want to drink battery acid.
“That won’t make your dad very happy,” she chuckles.
“Yeah well, I’m not living my life to make my dad happy,” I snap.
“Wow. Touched a nerve, huh?”
I take a swallow of my beer and shrug. “He and I just don’t see eye to eye about – well, pretty much anything,” I explain. “Especially when it comes to how I’m going to live my life. He seems to think he knows better than me.”
“Well, if you’re not going to work for daddy, what will you do?”
I sigh and lean my head back on the chair and stare up at the sky. “That’s the million-dollar question.”
“So, what’s the million-dollar answer?”
“Don’t have it yet,” I admit. “I just want to do something fun.”
“Fun?” she laughs. “It’s called work for a reason, Knox.”
I flash her a grin. “It’s called work, not misery,” I shoot back. “I don’t want to spend the next fifty years of my life getting up every morning just to go do something I hate. I want to enjoy my life and my work.”
Tiffany looks at me evenly. “Sounds nice in theory.”
“What’s so wrong with wanting to have a fun job?”
She shrugs. “Nothing at all. I just think our definition of a fun job differs,” she explains. “I’m pretty sure playing video games isn’t considered a lucrative career.”
“Says you.”
“Says anybody drawing a paycheck,” she scoffs.
I laugh then swallow down the last of my beer. My path in life has never been very clear. I know I’ve had privileges and opportunities other people can only dream of. But rather than clarify my thinking or bringing my path into focus about my future, that background has only muddied and confused the issue in my head.
The only thing I know for sure is that I don’t want my father’s life. I don’t want a life of business suits and board meetings. I want to enjoy every last second of my life and do something I enjoy the hell out of.
I mean, if you can’t enjoy life, what the hell is the point?
“You are killing my buzz here,” I chuckle.
“I’m a soon-to-be lawyer,” she shoots back. “It’s what we do.”
I give her my best smoldering glance. “I can think of something better we can do.”
She arches her eyebrow at me. “Nice try.”
“Come on, it’s graduation. It’s our last chance to be irresponsible. We’re supposed to do stupid things,” I try to convince her. “It’s expected. A rite of passage even.”
Tiffany laughs and gets to her feet. “Not gonna happen, Knox. I’ll give you a B-plus for effort – which is probably the highest grade you’ve ever gotten in your college career,” she informs me.
“Now you’re really killing my buzz,” I pout.
She finishes her drink and sets the cup back down on the table between us. I feel that familiar stirring in my groin as I look her up and down, imagining the feel of her soft, tender flesh beneath my fingers.
“Come on, you can’t deny there was some serious chemistry between us,” I prod her.
“Oh, there was,” she fires back. “There was also English, History, International Busin –”
I laugh. “Now you’re just being difficult.”
“Sorry. I’m just not, as they say, that kind of girl,” she explains. “I’m not looking for random hookups.”
“Who says I am?” I do my best to sound offended.
“The forty or fifty girls you slept with and never called again.”
I give her a roguish grin. “It’s not what you think.”
“It never is,” she retorts. “Listen Knox, you’re a nice guy –”
“Well shit. There’s a line I haven’t been blown off with in ages,” I smirk. “In fact, I don’t know that I’ve ever been blown off with that line before. Do guys actually buy that bullshit?”
Her smile is soft, but sincere. “I think deep down, you might even have it in you to be a good guy,” she goes on. “You’re just not right now. You’re too hung up on living the party life and having sex with as many girls as possible.”
She says that like it’s a bad thing. What’s wrong with enjoying life? It’s not my fault chicks want to bang me as often as they do. And the way Tiffany is talking makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong by trying to enjoy my life. Like I should be ashamed of it or something.
“I did tell you I wanted to enjoy my life to the utmost,” I reason.
“And if that’s the way you want to live it, far be it from me to tell you otherwise,” she replies. “That’s not how I’m choosing to live mine, though. And if you expect me to respect your decisions, you have to respect mine.”
A wry grin touches my lips. “Fair enough.”
Damn. That’s a shame. It would have been nice to bang her, though. All I know is that I need to get laid, and if Tiffany’s not going to scratch that itch for me, I need to find somebody who will.
“One day you’re going to meet somebody who fills that hole in you, Knox.”
I roll my eyes. “I have a hole in me?”
She nods. “You do. It’s why you have no direction in life,” she lectures. “It’s why you sleep with so many random girls.”
“Could it be that I just enjoy having sex? And variety?”
She giggles. “I suppose. I’m not a psychiatrist.”
I glance over and see Amber standing near the pool with a couple of her friends. My eyes slide up and down her tight body. Tiffany follows my eyes then looks back at me, smiling and shaking her head.
“I guess I need to go fill that hole, huh?” I tease.
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Yes,” I affirm as I get to my feet. “Yes, I am.”
I walk over to Amber and give her my best smile, doing my best to ignore the scowl on her face. It doesn’t take long to get her smiling again, and as I walk her through the house with my arm around her waist, we pass Peter, who just shakes his head. I give him a thumbs up and a wide smile.
“Remember, I don’t take IOUs, bro.”
Knox
The sun is slanting in through the blinds, making me wince. I feel like I’ve been hungover for the last two weeks straight, and it’s taking a toll. Not that it will stop me from enjoying the hell out of my life. Though now that I’m officially not in college anymore, maybe I can throttle it b
ack a little bit just so I’m not waking up feeling like shit every single morning.
I crawl out of bed, my mouth feeling like it’s lined with cotton, my eyes filled with sand, and every single cell in my body screaming in agony. The first thing I do is brush my teeth and swig some mouthwash, relishing the burn of it as it rolls around my throat just because it distracts me from everything else that hurts at the moment.
Once my mouth feels a bit cleaner and my breath is hopefully less offensive, I crawl into the shower. The initial shock of the cold water hits me and steals my breath. Slowly, the water warms. It’s not long before the clouds of steam are billowing, filling the entire bathroom. I lean my head against the tile and breathe in the steam as the warm water rains down on me.
After about forty-five minutes in the shower, I’m feeling halfway human again, so I step out and towel myself off before throwing on a pair of black jeans, a white t-shirt, and a pair of black Chucks. By the time I hit the ground floor, I am reasonably sure I can communicate in something other than grunts and words that contain more than one syllable, which is good. After all, I’m a college graduate now, these things are expected.
“Good morning, Mr. Knox.”
“Morning, Elisa,” I return her greeting.
I step into the solarium and cringe. The amount of light shining through the glass ceiling makes me feel like my eyeballs are melting right out of my head.
“Can we roll the shade out please, Elisa?”
“Of course,” she says, flashing me a knowing smile.
