by J. Kenner
And suddenly, surprisingly, that pisses me off. I know Dallas was trying to protect me. That he manufactured this story of a dare to try and keep the press away from me. To keep me safe. And while I love that he tried, at the core, I'm annoyed with myself. I've spent a gazillion dollars and at least as many hours in self-defense classes and strength training, and I'm still a damn victim, too scared to stand up and fight for what I want--and what I want is Dallas. A real life out in the open, the judgment of the world be damned.
And yes, I hate the thought of the media attention that will inevitably follow. And yes, it makes me twitchy knowing that I'm tossing away privacy in exchange for a life as tabloid fodder.
But it would be a life in the light. A life with Dallas.
And with him at my side, I know I can get through it.
"Jane." Dallas's voice cuts through the dialogue in my head, and I realize I've zoned out, lost in my fantasy of freedom. Even freedom at a price. "Go on. Get in."
We're at the door of the limo, and I start to comply. But then I shake my head and turn around to look out at the crowd that has gathered around us.
And then, before I can talk myself out of it, I blurt, "It wasn't a dare."
"Jane."
I take his hand, but otherwise ignore him. I have to say this fast before I lose my nerve.
"It wasn't a dare," I repeat. "It was a kiss. And it was real." I turn so that I'm looking straight at Dallas. "And it was right."
For a moment, I think that he's going to argue. Then he inclines his head. For a moment, our eyes lock. Then he takes my hand and urges me into the limo.
He follows, then shuts the door, firmly cutting off the shouted questions and camera flashes from the crowd we're leaving behind.
"Oh, god," I say as he pulls me close.
"You're amazing. Absolutely amazing." He bends to kiss me, but is interrupted by the sharp ring of his phone.
I meet his eyes--we both recognize the ring tone. The caller, I know, is our mother.
Dallas answers on speaker. "Mom," he says.
But it's not Mom, and I cringe when Daddy's very formal, very cold voice comes across the line.
"Imagine my surprise when my business manager calls and tells me that I need to tune in to TMZ, of all things."
"Daddy--" I begin, but he doesn't let me get a word in.
"So here is what's going to happen. You're going to instruct your driver to take you to the NBC affiliate. I've already got my team making arrangements. You'll go on air. Jane, you'll explain that you were irritated at being jumped by the press on your birthday. You'll say you decided to bait them. That you don't know what came over you, but of course there is nothing between you and your brother. A stupid dare. Foolish and silly but not real. Then you will end the statement and you will come immediately home to New York. I'll arrange for a longer appearance on a few talk shows. We'll have to spin this, but it will be spun. And this family will not be destroyed in the media because of the stupid, ill-conceived actions of my children. Do you understand?"
"I understand," I say, looking hard at Dallas. "And I'm sorry, Daddy, but I don't think we're going to be doing that."
"Dammit, Jane, you--"
"She already answered you, Dad."
"I will not be--"
"Goodbye, Daddy," I say. And then, with my heart pounding painfully in my chest, I take the phone from Dallas and press the button to end the call.
Sanctuary
Dallas watched--astounded, amazed, pretty damn impressed--as Jane hung up on their father.
The second she did, he pulled her to him. "Baby," he said. "Jane, baby, are you sure?"
She nodded.
"It's going to get crazy, you know that, right? The press isn't going to leave us alone. But our parents are. We're going to be cut off. Mom won't be calling you, sweetheart. You know damn well that Dad won't let her. At least not right away. Not until he cools down."
He could tell from her expression that she hadn't thought of that, but he also saw the determination in her eyes and loved her all the more for it.
"It's all good," she said. "I'm good." She drew in a deep breath, like a drowning victim coming up for air. "It's better this way. And look--I pulled back the curtain and it didn't kill me."
He chuckled. "No, it definitely didn't."
"I know it won't be easy," she said seriously. "But even the kind of hard we're going to be facing is better than living a lie. At least, I think so." She took his hand, and he saw the uncertainty color her face. "I sort of took over for both of us. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made that decision for you. I just--"
"No." His voice was harsh. Firm. "Don't you dare apologize. You were brilliant."
"Yeah?"
"Beyond brilliant," he said, then pulled her close. He wanted to hold her and never let her go. "Brilliant and ballsy."
She smiled up at him, her hand going to cup his crotch. "Is that good?"
"Very good," he said, then slanted his mouth over hers and lost himself in the feel of her for the rest of the drive to her house.
"I want more wine," she said once they arrived and were at her door. She fumbled for her keys. "And then I think we need to get naked, get in bed, and properly celebrate our emancipation."
He took the key from her and deftly inserted it, then opened the door. "I like the way you think."
As they entered, he heard the beep of her cellphone. "Voicemail," she said. "Someone must have called while we were in the dead zone coming up the canyon." She pressed the button to play the message, and he heard their mother's voice saying, "Sweetie, your father--well, he asked me to call and tell you to check your email. I--well, you'll see. There's a letter. Baby, I'm so sorry. I love you both so much, and--yes, Eli. I'm getting off right now--Goodbye, sweetheart. I have to go."
Even before the line went dead, Dallas had his phone out and was checking his mail, and Jane was only seconds behind him.
"Got it," she said. "Come on, open. Open."
He was cursing his own slow connection, too, but when the attached letter finally opened he both wished that he hadn't bothered and knew that he'd been expecting it all along.
He read it once carefully, then again more quickly. Then he looked at Jane and waited for her to finish. He watched her eyes skim the page once, then twice. Then a third time.
He saw when her hand began to shake.
And he was there to catch the phone when she dropped it.
"Dallas," she whispered. "I shouldn't have done it. I should have thought. I guess I never really believed he'd go this far."
"I did," Dallas said.
"But completely disinherited? He's really taking our houses away? Cutting us off from our trusts? He's firing you from Sykes Retail? What the hell? He's our father. How can he do that? I mean, I knew he'd threatened, but I guess I never really believed he'd go through with it. And I should never have taken the risk. What was I thinking putting you in that position?"
"You're in it, too."
She shook her head. "Not as deep. He can't touch my book or film money. But you work for him." She pressed her fingertips to her temples. "God, I'm such selfish idiot."
He took her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. "If you are, then I am, too. Because there's nothing I want more than to be with you--nothing."
"But Deliverance--your lifestyle. It's all driven by Sykes money. You need your reputation and--"
"No." He shook his head. "No, the money isn't a problem. Deliverance is self-sustaining now. I haven't funded it out of my trust in years. You're right about the parties and the reputation. The reputation I'll abandon." He squeezed her shoulders as he spoke. "But don't write me out of the parties, yet. Considering the nature of gossip, I probably have a good six months of the kind of notoriety designed to garner all sorts of party invitations. But you are right that this is going to inconvenience us. Hang on."
He pulled out his phone and dialed Archie's cellphone. "We have a code nine."
; "I assumed you would be calling. I've been watching the news. I take it you've spoken to your father since Miss Jane's announcement."
"Looks like I'll be finding a new place to call home. Eli says we can both store our stuff in our houses until we come to our senses. But we both feel remarkably sane, so I think it's best to have our personal belongings packed up and sent to storage."
"I'll take care of everything. I'll contact Ellen and have her begin working on Miss Jane's belongings at the townhouse. Where will you be staying?"
It was a good question. He turned his attention to Jane. "Your LA house, is it part of the family trust?"
She shook her head. "No, I bought it when I sold my film rights."
"We'll be staying in LA for a few days," he said to Archie, "then coming back to New York and moving in to that apartment I was considering. Would you call my agent and tell her I want to move in mid-week? If we can't close the sale that quickly, then I'll rent the place until closing."
"I'd be happy to arrange that for you."
"Wait a second. Tell her that title will be held by both me and Jane."
"What?" Jane said.
"Of course," Archie said. "Good luck, Dallas. I'll speak to you both soon."
They ended the call, and Jane lifted her brow.
He shrugged. "Don't you want to buy an apartment with me? Short sale, remember? It's definitely a good investment."
"Is that why you want to buy it together? Because you're concerned about my investment portfolio?"
"I want to buy it with you because I want us to have something tangible. Something that is ours. A symbol that we're stepping out and moving on." What he didn't say was that he couldn't drop to one knee and offer her a ring the way he wanted to. Maybe he'd never be able to do that. But he'd damn well give her this. And as much and as often as he could, he'd make sure that in the eyes of the world, they were a couple.
"So," he pressed. "Are you in?"
Her smile bloomed so wide it made his heart swell. "Yeah," she said simply. "I'm in."
"In that case, I think we need some of that wine." He moved to the kitchen and got a bottle from her wine fridge, then deftly uncorked it. He took the bottle and two glasses back out to the living room and set them both on her coffee table. Then he sat, and when she moved to join him, he shook his head. "No. You stand."
"Really? Why?"
"Because I'm going to watch you. And then I'm going to fuck you."
She licked her lips, and he saw the color rise in her cheeks. "What if I say no?"
He just shook his head. "That word has no meaning tonight." He let his eyes graze over her, noting the way she shifted her weight. The way her nipples hardened beneath that skimpy little halter. The enticing way she sucked on her lower lip.
Christ, he was hard.
"Take off your jeans," he demanded.
She complied immediately, first kicking off her heels, then unbuttoning the fly, then easing the jeans down over her hips until she finally stepped out and tossed them aside. She was clad only in tiny pink panties and her triangle style halter.
"Shirt next," he ordered, and felt his cock twitch when she obeyed without even the slightest hesitation.
She reached up to the middle of her back and pulled at the string to untie the bow. Then she lifted both hands to her neck, undid that bow as well, and the skimpy top slid off her to the ground.
She stood there in only her panties, her hands still behind her head, her hip cocked to one side and a sexy little smile on her face. Her nipples were hard, her areolae tight and puckered, and all he wanted to do was stand up and take one of those perfect tits in his mouth and suck until she felt it so damn intensely that she came in his arms.
Soon, he thought. But not yet.
"Slide your hand down inside your panties," he ordered, then watched her mouth open as she gasped in pleasure when her finger skimmed over her clit. He watched her touch herself, stroking his cock as she did, and getting harder and harder as he imagined the feel of her. The heat of her.
"That's it, baby. Play with your clit. Tell me when you're close."
Her posture tightened as she touched herself, her breathing coming faster and faster. She was close--and damned if he wasn't, too. He wanted to watch her explode. Wanted to see the way her face lit as she went over the edge.
But that wasn't the game. Not yet. And the moment she whispered, "Now," he ordered her to stop and pull her hand away.
She whimpered, but she complied, and her easy obedience made him all the more hard.
He stood, still fully dressed, his cock straining painfully against his jeans. "Why did I make you stop?"
With a little sigh, she licked her lips. "To tease me."
"Oh no, baby," he said, stepping right in front of her and running his fingertip lightly over her breasts, making her sigh, then roughly flicking her left nipple and changing her sigh to a startled little cry. "Not to tease, but to punish."
He watched as she closed her eyes, her throat moving as she swallowed, then he took her arms and lifted them above her head, until she was the way he wanted, hands clasped, body stretched up, her back slightly arched. Beautiful. And his.
"Why am I punishing you?"
"I--I don't know."
Her eyes were still closed and so she wasn't expecting it when he spanked her tit, eliciting a surprised cry. He kept his eyes on her, watching her reaction. He'd never done that before, and he'd stop if she wanted him to. But goddamn it, he hoped she didn't want to. She'd promised him she'd welcome whatever he needed, and right now--tonight--he needed this. He needed her.
He needed her to be his. Completely. Fully. No holds barred.
He moved closer, cupping both her breasts and squeezing, then lowering his mouth to suck on the nipple of the tit he'd just spanked. He released his hand from her other breast and slid it down until his fingers dipped beneath the band of her panties and he found her soaked, her clit swollen and so sensitive that she shuddered at the softest of touches.
He bit back a smile; apparently she liked it just fine.
"Why am I punishing you?" he repeated after he drew his mouth off her breast, scraping her nipple with his teeth as he did so.
She continued to hold her arms above her head, and he couldn't help but smile at how well she was obeying. "Because I was bad."
"How were you bad?"
"Because of what I did. Hanging up on Dad, and--"
"No." He cupped the back of her head. "Open your eyes. Look at me. No," he repeated when she complied, then watched as the relief flooded through her when she realized that he meant it. "Why?" he repeated, this time more gently.
Her teeth dragged over her lower lip as she considered the question. And then he saw the moment she knew the answer. "Because you didn't like me dancing with another man."
"I damn sure didn't," he said, fisting her hair and tugging her head back, leaving her neck exposed to his mouth. He shoved her thong to the side and thrust two fingers inside her, so that he was holding her in place by the pressure on her hair and her pussy. He knew it was awkward. He knew she felt unbalanced; hell, she was. With her hands still above her head and her weight shifted, if he let go she'd tumble to the ground.
Which was exactly what he wanted--for her to be completely in his control. "You're mine," he whispered, then trailed kisses along her exposed throat, alternating soft busses that made her moan with sharp bites. "Mine," he repeated. "Hell, I just paid a few billion dollars for you." He didn't mention that by the same argument, she'd paid a few billion for him. They both knew that he belonged to her as fully and completely as she did to him. But right now, he was the one in charge.
"Tell me I'm right," he demanded. "Tell me I own you."
"You're right. You own me. I'm yours."
The words rolled through him, filling him. Hell yes, she was. "What does that mean?"
"Only you. Whenever. However. Anytime. Anywhere."
"Does that frighten you?"
She shook her
head as much as she could, fighting against his tight grip.
"Does it excite you?"
"Yes."
"Tell me what you want."
"You." The word was ragged. Raw. "God, Dallas, I want you."
"You have me, baby."
He released her hair, then steadied her before cocking his head to indicate the couch. "Bend over it," he said. "Hands on the cushions. Chest on the back. I want your ass in the air."
She met his eyes, and he saw desire as thick as his own. "Yes, sir."
Her easy compliance just about did him in, and he felt his cock throbbing with need. Dammit, he was going to fuck her. He had to fuck her. To claim her. To prove to both of them that they were together. Completely. Wholly.
He moved behind her, then held on to her hair with one hand, his other on her hip. She still wore the tiny thong panties, and he considered just ripping them off her, but there was something so enticing about taking her with them on. About urging her legs apart, shoving the damn panties to the side, and thrusting his cock inside her just like he wanted to do. Just like he was doing now.
And he was.
He was hard and he was inside her, and her back was arched as she moaned with the pleasure of being filled by him. Oh, fuck. Oh, yes.
He grabbed her hips, certain that this wouldn't last, but damn sure hoping he was wrong. He held her, then pounded roughly into her, faster, deeper, wilder.
She moaned, crying out his name. Begging him to fuck her harder. And damned if he didn't do just that. She was his--his--and he was inside her. Owning her. Taking what he wanted. What he needed.
He reached forward with one hand, holding her around the throat, making her submission complete. With his other, he reached beneath her, finding her clit and teasing it as he thrust harder and harder, then felt his balls tighten with the familiar sensation that led to an explosion.
And oh, holy shit, he was actually going to come inside her. For the first time in seventeen fucking years, he was going to come inside the woman he loved.
"Jane," he cried as his body shattered. He fell over her, his chest to her back, as his fingers continued to stroke her.
"Oh, god, Dallas," she cried as he still trembled against her. "Dallas," she repeated as he pulled out, then turned her around so that he could draw her to him, embracing her, holding her, loving her.
Tears ran down her cheeks, and she started to say his name again, but he cut her off, silencing her with a kiss, his mouth taking her as wildly and eagerly as his cock had.
