“Trig.” I look up and Jessica turns at the same time, both of us surprised by the intruder standing in my doorway. Her normally warm blue eyes are so sharp they could cut through something. By the way she’s glaring at me, my guess is she’d prefer that something to be my throat. Her face is flushed and her long, blond hair is pulled into a lazy, low knot at the back of her head with unruly strands kissing her face. She doesn’t give Jessica a glance and her words are just as cutting as her eyes. “I need to speak to you. Privately. Now.”
Jessica gets up and takes her things with her. “I think I know what research you’re talking about. I’ll organize and send it to your inbox. Can I get you something to drink, Ellie?”
Ellie’s frame is rigid and her small chest rises and falls with violent breaths. I’m familiar enough with her body to know she’s either just orgasmed or she’s trying to control her rage. Since she looks nothing but pissed, I’d put all my money and my retirement fund on the latter. Standing there in a long dress that matches my eyes more than hers, she’s not wearing a lick of makeup and looks almost as young as the first time I saw her.
Fuck. I’ll never forget that day even though it feels like another lifetime.
“No, thank you.” Ellie’s voice breaks as she shifts to make room for Jessica to leave. As opposed to yesterday when I swore she was uncomfortable being shut up in my office alone with me, today she has no issue because she doesn’t just shut the door, she slams it.
I start to move around my desk, but she tosses her bag to the floor, holds up a hand, and stalks to me. “How long have you known?”
I close the rest of the distance between us until I’ve gotten close enough to touch her, because I have a feeling, I know what this is about. There’s more than a decent possibility she’s going to scream the building down. Damn Pettit. He didn’t give me the full twenty-four hours like he said he would.
I narrow my eyes. “Known what, angel?”
“Holy shit. Are we doing this again?” Her voice hitches and her shoulders drop as if they’ve given up the fight. “You hate me, you don’t hate me, you insist on representing me, you use your mother to bait me, but you don’t tell me things,” she pauses and brings her hands up, threading her fingers through her hair as her tears form, “things I deserve to know.”
“Last night…” I take a deep breath and move closer, but she moves back in turn. I shake my head and start over. “I don’t hate you. Last night was good. We were able to be around each other without fighting. I didn’t want that to end and I didn’t want you to leave. I was going to come to you tonight, make you sit and listen to me.”
Her wounded eyes search mine as her arms fall to her sides. “So, it’s true? He’s out and he’s coming back here?”
I pull my hand through my hair, if for no other reason I need something to do with it. The craving to touch her, comfort her—hell, erase the last fucking decade—is so unbearable, it tears me apart.
“Answer me,” she demands, her bright eyes becoming cloudy and glassing over.
Fuck it.
I reach for her, grabbing her by the hips, and move her until her ass hits my desk. Bringing my hands up, I cup her face and tip it to mine. A lonely tear escapes and I swipe it away with my thumb, gone just as fast as it appeared. As much as I want to lie or make excuses, I can’t. She deserves the truth. “Yes, he’s out. And, from what I know, he’s on his way back to North Texas. I should know more soon. Maybe today.”
She grips my wrists but surprises me when she doesn’t push me away. She hangs on, like her life depends on it. Shaking her head in my hands, her tears start to spill. There are too many to make disappear.
I take the final step and press my body against her small one. “Nothing’s going to happen. I’ve got eyes on him and Eli’s on it, too. I promise, he won’t do anything to you ever again.”
“It’s just too much,” she cries. “Nothing is right. He’s breathing and free and Faye is gone and you and I…”
She pulls her lip between her teeth and I feel the muscles in her body give up the fight. I wrap my arms around her to support her weight.
“You and I are fucked up,” I finish her sentence.
She nods and hangs onto me tighter. I lean down and put my lips to her cheekbone, her whole body tensing at my touch.
“More than fucked up.” My voice is rough and guttural as my lips feel their way up her porcelain skin toward her ear where I trace it with my nose. My hand drops, feeling its way down her side, gripping her hip and holding her tight. Her tears wet my cheek and her breath is heavy on my skin, not unlike the last time I had her in my arms this week, or even years ago when I would’ve moved mountains to take away her pain.
Our pain.
But there was nothing I could do.
“That was a long time ago, angel.” I try to cover my groan from the feel of her.
She presses her face to mine, her lips move against my skin when she murmurs, “Nothing has changed.”
“You’re wrong.”
I press into her stomach, blood rushing to my cock from being with her like this, something I did everything in my power to put out of my head because I knew she was a closed book.
But here we are.
I turn my head and she quivers as I swipe her bottom lip with my tongue. “Everything’s changed.”
“Trig,” she breathes against my lips. Her hands, which have moved to my chest, grip my shirt, pulling me to her with a desperation I fully comprehend. “We can’t.”
“Fuck,” I growl and grip the thin material at her thigh. I pull at her dress until I feel skin, dragging my hand up to her ass covered in lace. I pull back just far enough to look at her tear-streaked face that now shows something very different. Her eyes are heavy and her lips parted. I try to control my sprinting heart that feels like I just ran a marathon. Nothing in my life has gotten to the core of me like her. I give my head a shake. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. Ever again.”
Her eyes drop.
I grip the back of her head, her soft hair tangling in my fingers, and then, in an instant, it’s as if none of the shit between us ever happened.
That her father didn’t blackmail her against me.
That my fucking father didn’t hurt her.
That we didn’t lose everything.
And that I didn’t turn my back on her, making the biggest mistake of my life.
Because none of it’s her fault. The only mistake she ever made was falling in love with a nobody ranch hand who had nothing and was just as young as he was stupid.
She’s the oxygen I’ve needed all this time and I take it from her. Every single breath. When she presses up on her toes, my tongue invades her mouth and her moan cuts through me. I yank the material of her dress, not able to get enough. Cupping her ass in my hands, I lift. As if she hasn’t missed a day in ten years, she wraps herself around me, fitting herself to my body like a second skin—like she was made for me. I put her back to my desk that’s covered in papers and legal documents filled with nothing but her family’s name, representing everything that broke us apart.
Pressing my cock between her legs, her head falls back. When I bite down on her bottom lip, her gasp brushes my skin.
“Angel.”
I put my lips to her neck while tugging her panties out of the way and don’t waste another moment. I fill her with two fingers and her body becomes one with mine.
She presses down on my hand and whimpers.
I suck at the delicate skin below her ear.
“Fucking missed you,” I growl as I pump into her, her juices covering my fingers. I circle her clit with my thumb and she lifts her legs where they tighten around my back.
“Trig,” she moans and looks into my eyes before pulling my mouth back to hers.
When she spears her fingers into my hair, gripping the back of my head to hang on, I lose all control. Putting one hand to my desk under her, I grip her panties in my other, pulling hard. She yelps, from sur
prise or from the pinch of the material. Either way, she doesn’t complain, not able to get enough. I devour her mouth and she clings to me, every muscle as perfect as I remember.
I rip at my belt and trousers, cursing the amount of time it takes to free my cock, but once I do, I waste no time taking what’s mine.
Taking her back.
When I thrust into her, she presses down and her hold tightens, her fingers digging into the back of my neck. I pull out just enough to pump, realizing everything I did to forget about her all these years was a lie.
There’s no other.
They’ll never be another Ellie—my angel.
Fuck, I’m ruined.
“Oh, yes,” she breathes. Her body and pussy tense around me and my cock. She closes her eyes and her head falls to the side.
I shift my hips, pick up my pace, and watch a moan escape her lips, a sound that makes my heart beat … one I could listen to for the rest of my days. Her jaw falls slack and I feel her come around my dick, spurring me to take her harder and faster. She tenses and all her muscles I thought were toned and perfect before, tighten around me in a vice.
My balls draw up and my rhythm becomes erratic. Chasing her orgasm as she hangs onto me, I come hard—harder than I can remember, since maybe the day I took her virginity. I might not have taken her hard that night but I still made her bleed. After months of trying to talk myself out of the fact I’d fallen in love with Ellie Montgomery, it had been too much.
That night was life-changing.
As I take her again, pressed into my office desk with her dress bunched under her tits, today feels the same.
But not just life-changing.
Life-altering.
I breathe into the side of her head, my face buried in her hair as we both come down. I don’t move—if I could stay like this forever, buried inside her, I would.
But she tenses, and dammit to hell, she shouldn’t be tense right now.
“Stop.” My lips move on her, working their way around to her face where her brow is pinched and her eyes are shut tight. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop.”
She shakes her head and turns so she doesn’t have to look at me. “What have I done?”
Jessica’s voice rings through my office on the speaker. “Excuse me, Easton?”
“Oh, shit,” Ellie whispers for my ears only. “She probably heard.”
I can’t stand the thought of letting her go, but she pushes me away and I almost groan when I have to pull out of her. I reach over and press the button on my intercom, clearing my voice. “Yes?”
“Your four o’clock is here.”
I look across my office and it’s two minutes until four. I’m forced to stand as Ellie is wiggling out from under me, her long dress falling to her ankles. She goes straight to her shoes she kicked off sometime during our time on my desk.
I don’t take my eyes off her as I tuck myself back in my pants. You’d think she was walking on hot coal at the speed she’s moving—flustered and shaking. I’m never curt with Jessica, but I can’t help that my voice comes out like a razor when I press the button again. “Reschedule it.”
“No,” Ellie whispers and her eyes jump to mine, panicked and full of something else I don’t want to think about.
“But the merger closes in three days—” Jessica starts to argue.
I press the button again and growl, “Reschedule.”
Ellie picks up her bag and torn panties off the floor, gripping them as her eyes fall shut, the reality sinking in of what just happened. I buckle my belt and move to her, snatch her panties from her hand, and stuff them in my pocket. “Let me take you home. Let’s talk about this—we’ll talk about everything.”
She looks up at me, her hair wild, her mouth swollen and beautiful from the abuse it took from mine. A whisper slips out of those lips. “No. Shit … what the fuck have I done?”
Then she turns and has my door open before I can blink.
I rush after.
She moves through the waiting area of the executive staff, past Jessica and my four o’clock, who’s still standing there, probably wondering what the hell’s going on and why I cancelled on him when we’re about to sign a deal.
“Ellie,” I call but she doesn’t stop.
“Is she okay to drive?” Jessica asks, frowning at me. “Should I have someone stop her at security?”
I do my best to act as though I didn’t just fuck the woman who ran from my office. “No. But I need to reschedule. I’m leaving.”
Ellie Montgomery isn’t going to run from me now. She can’t go far. She’s got a child to take care of.
I’ll find her.
16
I Have Your Panties in My Pocket
Sometimes life calls for a little hooch.
Ellie
I fled from my family’s business as if my life depended on it, which I know was overly dramatic and maybe unnecessary, but the need to separate myself from Trig Barrett was so overwhelming, I had no choice.
I allowed him to break down my defenses, even after he told me his father had been released from prison and learning he’d kept that bit of information from me.
I was weak and cried in his arms.
Then he kissed me and I fell apart. I let him fuck me on his desk with his admin sitting right outside. And I hate myself because, until I came down from my orgasm, I wanted it. I wanted him—his touch, his lips, and even his cock.
I wasn’t thinking.
I can’t even pretend I was right in the head at that moment.
But coming down from an orgasm has a way of clearing your head. Reality steps in, like the bitch she is, and slaps you across the face with all the sting and judgment she can lay on you.
I had sex with the man who didn’t give me the time of day when I needed him most.
Unprotected sex, at that. Unprotected sex with my former lover who’s haunted my heart for years. I was fucked in so many ways.
I sped home.
Well, not sped. I was just arrested for the possession of marijuana—I certainly don’t need a speeding ticket on top of that. Once I got there, I sent Chloe away in a rush. She knew something was wrong and tried to stay. She asked me what she could do to help and even offered to watch Griffin if I needed time to myself.
I’m sure I was rude but I didn’t have the mind to care. She walked out my door more curious than concerned, but I had no time to worry about my babysitter. I packed up Griffin and a mountain of diapers. Thank goodness he was just excited to go.
And we went.
I called Jen and told her I was on my way to her loft. She tried to ask me a million questions but I hung up on her because, no matter what anyone wanted to know, I had no answers. All I knew was Trig was leaving early for the day and I’m sure he’d be at my house, banging my door down, more determined than any bitchy CPS worker. There was no way I was going to allow myself to be a sitting duck.
I thought about going to the ranch for about two-point-two seconds, but the desire to see my parents lies somewhere around the level of not in this fucking life or the next one, especially after my time in Trig’s office today. The ranch, normally a fortress for hiding, was out of the question.
And because my life sucks and I have no other friends, Jen’s loft was my only choice. She was waiting and didn’t ask a thing. After taking one look at me, she knew what I needed. I gave her my son and she did what she does best—she took over.
I went straight to her kitchen and grabbed a bottle of Belvedere, poured myself a huge glass over ice and only cut it with a splash of grapefruit juice. I took my drink and the bottle of vodka and went straight to Jen’s cushy white chair she keeps facing out over downtown Dallas.
I parked my ass there and haven’t moved.
Jen played with Griffin, fed him dinner, gave him a bath, and read him books. Now he’s asleep in Jen’s guest bedroom in the pack-n-play she keeps here for him as his mother continues to drink away her life.
I haven’t had
a drink since before Robert died. It’s not that I haven’t wanted one—even needed one at times. Lord knows, I have. That day plays in my head like the bad background music at the dentist. When I don’t keep myself busy, it drills its way in and takes over. The blame and fault that blankets my heart for what almost happened to my sister that day is crushing, but I deserve every pound of it. I brought that monster into my family—I’ve earned every jagged edge my heart takes on a daily basis. I’m not worthy of any balm to my guilt.
I’ve refilled my glass twice—maybe three times—and have been deadening every emotional nerve in my body. It’s glorious and the vodka is doing its job like any top-shelf bottle should. The unprotected sex I had on a desk with the love of my life—no wait, the former love of my life—has started to fade away. Because, over the last two hours I’ve decided I’m never going to love anyone but Griffin for as long as I live and I’m never, ever, ever having sex again—protected, unprotected, semi-protected, on a desk or otherwise—none of it. I’m done with sex and I’m done with Easton hot-with-a-trigger-in-more-ways-than-one Barrett.
“How long do you think she’s going to sit there and not speak to us?”
“If you have to ask that, you don’t really know my sister.”
The sun has set over the Lone Star State and all its fucked-up residents. Now that it’s dark, I can see my reflection in the glass as clear as my vodka-hazed eyes will allow. I’m slumped in Jen’s big white chair with my glass of liquid Novocain and I don’t give a shit that I’m still not wearing panties.
I watch Jen walk up behind me in the reflection and I don’t flinch, not until I see her nab my bottle that’s sitting on the end table next to me. I lean up as fast as I can and my head spins, but I steady myself, or at least I try to. “Hey, I’m drinking that.”
“You’re not drinking anything else until you have something to eat and a gallon of water. I have a meeting in the morning and I don’t want to be up all night holding your hair.”
Broken Halo: The Montgomery Series, Book 2 Page 15
