He’s been in Atlanta for so long now, I really doubt he’ll ever move back here. He barely ever makes it back for holidays, and only then because I suspect Aunt Bess threatens him with bodily harm. The fact that he traipsed back here himself to settle Alice’s estate instead of sending a junior associate to do it is frankly shocking. Maybe he has a heart, after all. Maybe Aunt Bess will finally get her wish to see all of her children happily settled in Ovid.
Maybe I should make a bet with Teddy on how much longer it’ll be before Aunt Bess gets Tristan back in Ovid for good. I have been nagging him to take me on a joy ride in his sheriff’s cruiser …
“Wait,” I suddenly say, “I thought Aunt Bess and Uncle Isaac have been in Atlanta trying to convince Tristan to come home?”
Cassie shrugs. “I don’t know. He was here two days ago getting me to sign the papers. I think he left right after, though.”
Jackson whistles. “So he essentially snuck back here while his parents were in Atlanta? When his parents always have to nag him for just a simple visit?”
“Aunt Bess is going to shit a brick,” grumbles Griffin.
Cassie sighs, squeezing his shoulder. “It sucks I got the money this way, but I’m just so glad I’m never going to need a loan from Michael.”
“Speaking of which,” Griffin grumbles, turning to stare at me. “When are you going to tell everyone else about your little venture?”
Before I can respond, the front door opens and in strolls Jude.
Chapter Seventeen
Jude
I barge into the bar, excited to tell Nathan my test results came back negative when I finally look up from my phone and instantly realize two things. One, the bar is closed. And two, what must be just about Nate’s entire family is here for a private gathering—almost certainly because of Alice.
This can wait.
I take a step back. “I-I’m sorry—”
“And just who might you be?” says one of the guys who has an arm slung over a girl’s shoulders.
“I’m Jude Shaw,” I say uncomfortably, knowing I should leave.
“And I’m Jackson King, the most attractive of the King brothers, as you can see,” he says, then studies me, eyes narrowed. “You’re not from around here, are you?” The girl tucked under his arm glares at him and he shrugs. “What? Do any of you know her? Why is she here?”
“None of you know her,” Nathan cuts in. “Well, apart from Noah, that is. Not that that’s surprising.”
The other woman steps toward me. She has long, stick-straight black hair and a kind face. I instantly like her. “I’m Cassie. This is Griffin, and that’s Rory with Jackson. I guess you know the twins, then. Um, welcome to Ovid?”
So now I’ve met Griffin and Jackson, too. These King brothers are practically crawling out of the woodwork. Yeesh, what an attractive lot.
It must be nice to have so many siblings. A blessing I sadly can’t even begin to comprehend.
“Nice to meet you, too,” I finally say.
The woman named Rory studies me. There’s a toughness about her, an I-won’t-tolerate-your-shit attitude I can instantly relate to. “And who are you, exactly?”
I cut a glance at Nathan. Can’t he help me out here? I don’t know how much he’s told them. Or even what he wants to tell them, for that matter. Shouldn’t he be the one to spill the beans about his potential partnership with my company? My job isn’t to snitch to his whole family.
Nathan, seeing my distress, winks at me and says, “Jude’s here for a month to determine whether her company will distribute my bourbon y’all are so obsessed over.”
“So that is why you got the loan,” says Noah without a hint of surprise.
“I knew you already knew. How do you do that?” Nathan says, rolling his eyes. “But yeah. I’m starting my own label, which you already know I call Old Abe’s. Michael Lipton Sr.’s bank agreed to give me the loan for production, and like I said, Jude’s company will distribute it if we come to an agreement.”
“You’re going to sell this slop?” Jackson says in surprise, lifting his glass up to eye level like he’s never seen it before.
Nathan punches him in the arm. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, you dick. Like you’re not obsessed with Old Abe’s.”
“I’m going to order a case of the first batch,” Jackson says absently, still staring at the liquid.
“That’s really great, Nathan. Congrats,” Cassie says. Rory nods in agreement.
“To be honest,” Nathan says, “I’ve been nervous to tell y’all. I didn’t want to jinx the deal, but now that we’re so close to the end, I figure it’s probably fine to tell you.”
He shouldn’t be too hasty. A month is still a long time, and if there’s anything Ovid has shown me, it’s to expect the unexpected.
Searching for something to say in the sudden quiet, my eyes land on Griffin’s disheveled appearance, and I remember why they’re surely here in the first place. “Hi, Griffin. I know you don’t know me, but I was sorry to hear about Alice.”
He mumbles something unintelligible, barely looking at me.
Poor guy. I could tell him it’s not his fault, but I know better than anyone that he won’t believe me.
I don’t belong here. “Well, I can see that you’re in the middle of a family gathering. I don’t want to interrupt you. I’ll come back tomorrow, Nate.”
I turn to go, but Nathan grabs my arm. Surprised, I glance up at him. “Stay,” he says. “Don’t leave.”
Really? He wants me to stay here, with him? With all of them? What I should do is immediately shoot him down and start the two-hour drive back to Savannah. That would be the smart thing, the right thing, to do. But I don’t.
Because what I suddenly want more than anything is to be a part of something, a part of a family, even if it’s for something sad. Even if I have no right to be here. Seeing them together, united, only further underscores what I don’t have. I want that, even if only to pretend for a little while.
“Okay,” I whisper.
Nathan grins, the smile stretching so wide across his face it almost hurts to look at him. He takes my hand. “Come here, and I’ll give you a proper introduction to everyone.”
At first, it’s a little awkward; I don’t really know any of these people, and it’s clear they’re wondering why Nathan’s letting me hang out with them. I stay quiet, mostly hanging out beside Nate, who’s taken up a station behind the bar to refill everyone’s glass whenever they run out of Old Abe’s.
And the thing about bourbon is that when you drink it long enough, everything becomes wonderfully tingly, the world a warm lens through which any story becomes funny. I thought Nathan was hilarious, and he still is, but clearly Nate wasn’t the only one born with a funny bone in the King family.
I swear, the more I laugh, the more the men want to outdo each other on the next story. When Nathan tells them I know about his and Noah’s plan for Andrea and Axel, they fill me in on what caused the fire and that Axel actually fired her for it. I groan along with them during the retelling, knowing that if Axel doesn’t already regret what he did, he soon will. Even I, a complete stranger, could tell that night in the bar that those two are fighting a major attraction.
As the night goes on, the brothers regale each other with childhood memories. Rory and Cassie talk between themselves, clearly having already heard the stories many times, but I certainly haven’t. The brothers could be a comedy troupe, the way they play off each other. Nate outrageous, Jackson suggestive, Griffin always playing it straight. Even Noah throws in a sardonic whopper from time to time. Everything perfected over their many years together.
What a wonderful thing that must be. Even now, while remembering the life of a woman who’s passed, they still find a way to find light in a dark situation.
Laughing yet again, my drink sloshes over the rim onto the counter. I hurry to clean it up, but Nate wordlessly drops a towel over the spill and pulls me into his side. When I glance up
at him in question, he drops a kiss to my forehead like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
We freeze. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I register the fact that the rest of them have fallen silent, but Nathan and I are too lost in our own world to pay attention. We’ve crossed over the boundary, moved from hookup to coworkers and now to … what? Friends? Intimates?
Need blasts through me, the desire echoed in Nathan’s eyes.
“You know, I think it’s time we were going,” Rory suddenly says.
We snap out of it, turning back to the lot of them. Is Nate’s expression as confused as mine? Because I for sure have no idea where that came from.
Cassie nods. “Yes, I believe you’re right. Let’s go, Griffin.” She begins towing Griffin away, who casts repeated glances over his shoulder toward Nathan. Rory drags Jackson away, who protests vehemently and even tries to dig in his heels.
Noah gives us a long, thoughtful look before he, too, leaves, a kind of hurt in his eyes.
And then it’s just the two of us.
Nathan wraps an arm around my waist. “So you’re staying here tonight, right? You’ve had too much to drink.”
There’s definitely no way I can drive anywhere. “Yeah, I’m staying here. I’ll sleep on that couch in the back room.”
“Excellent.”
Nathan lifts me clear off the ground. I yelp, wrapping my legs around his waist for balance, but then he’s kissing me as he makes for the back room.
“We really shouldn’t,” I say between kisses.
“Oh, we totally, totally should.”
“There’s no point.”
“There’s a very good point, actually. Namely, the point of my cock pounding into you over and over.”
I moan, burying my fingers in his hair as I return my mouth to his. The kiss turns wild, frantic, and suddenly all I can think about is that we’re wearing far too many clothes.
Which reminds me. “I got my results back today. That’s why I came in here. Everything was negative. I’m officially clean.”
He grins. “Why, what perfect timing, Miss Shaw. I just got mine from Griffin earlier as well. We’re both clean.”
“That’s g-good,” I stutter as he nibbles a line of kisses down my throat. I am particularly a fan of neck kisses. They might be my favorite kind. My toes curl in my heels as I grip him tighter.
Nathan takes me into the back room and deposits me in front of the poker table, my back to him. His words from our meeting with Northwood spring to mind and heat floods me as a full-body shiver rolls down my spine.
His hands come down on either side of me, caging me against the table as I stare down at it, my need swirling higher. He crowds me against the table, his mouth kissing a line up my neck again. He chuckles darkly as a moan escapes me.
When he reaches my ear, he growls, “Do you remember what I told you I do to women on this table?”
I moan again, then nod. My entire body starts shaking; my fingernails dig into the table in anticipation.
“Do you want me to do that to you, Jude?”
I nod again.
“Jude,” he says softly, “tell me you want me to eat your pussy.”
“Yes,” I gasp. “Do it.”
He chuckles again, and then a hand is placed between my shoulder blades and forces me to bend over the table. Rough hands slide up the outside of my thighs, dragging my skirt up past my waist. A hoarse groan escapes him at the sight of my bare ass, naked but for the thin strip of my thong. He grabs it, jerking it down my legs until it pools at my feet, then plunges a finger inside me.
“Shit,” I moan.
“Already wet, I see. You know what’s coming, don’t you?”
I thrust back against his hand, desperate for his mouth on me.
“Don’t you?” he growls again, adding another finger.
“Yes,” I pant. “Do it now.”
“With pleasure, Miss Shaw.”
He falls to his knees behind me. His hands grip my waist, tilting me up toward him. The soft strands of his hair slide against my ass as he spreads me for him. A second later, his tongue slides inside me, thrusting lazily as he presses me into the table. I moan, the sound long and heavy in the silent room.
“Nate … yes, Nate.”
His hand reaches around and slides between me and the table, circling my clit as he sucks me. I cry out, my hips trying to thrust in time with him, but his shoulders keep pressing me into the table, forcing me to remain immobile as he fucks me with his tongue. He strokes faster, plunging in and out of me until I’m shaking, my whole body locked tight and desperate for release.
“Beg for it,” he purrs against my skin, the words vibrating right through me.
“Nate, please!” I plead, too far gone to care. With a cry of satisfaction his tongue plunges back inside me, delving faster and faster, his entire palm rocking against my clit. I explode against him, crying out as wave after wave of unimaginable pleasure rolls through me. He doesn’t stop, wringing out every last second of my orgasm until I collapse boneless against the table.
I’ve never come so hard in my life.
“Now that was fun.”
I slowly raise my head from the table, then look over my shoulder at him. Nate’s mouth is red and swollen from tasting me, his eyes wild. My eyes drop to his erection, straining through his jeans. I push back from the table and turn to face him.
This man is going to come as hard as I did.
“I’m going to suck you.”
Nathan’s eyes roll back in his head. “Christ, yes.”
I tear at his belt, sliding it from his waistband before tossing it on the floor. Carefully, I unzip his jeans, freeing him from his pants before jerking them down to his legs. I fall to my knees before him. His cock juts toward me, the tip already beaded with moisture as I grip the base of it and slide him inside my mouth.
“Holy shit,” he gasps, fingers threading into my hair, holding me against him as I slowly draw every inch of his length down my throat. “You can’t—fuck, yes—do it like that.”
I slowly draw him out of my mouth, sucking forcefully until I release him with an audible pop. He swears, fingers yanking my hair so hard it’s almost painful. I take him inside again, sucking deeply.
I moan, the sound vibrating against his cock, thrilled when an incoherent sound of pleasure escapes him. With my free hand, I cup his balls, squeezing slightly as I move up and down his shaft.
“Fuck, Jude. I’m going to—don’t stop—hell—”
I bob faster, my lips sliding along his length. He grips my hair harder, hips thrusting helplessly against me. He’s on the verge; just one little thing could send him right over the edge.
My eyes snap to his, staring at him hotly as I take him all the way inside. And it’s too much. He explodes, hips bucking against me, using my mouth for his own pleasure. A long, low growl escapes him as he finally falls still, and I release him.
Nathan tumbles to the floor beside me, lips twisted in a satisfied grin. My own grin stretches in answer, and for a long moment, we just stare at each other.
Something undefinable flashes in his eyes. It disappears before I can identify it, but a strange warmth spreads through me.
He leans closer, eyes burning with passion as he whispers, “Sweetheart, for the next month, I am going to fuck you silly.”
Chapter Eighteen
Nathan
I still end up in bed alone, though.
No manner of begging, pleading, or cajoling convinces Jude to join me upstairs. After giving me the best blowjob of my life, she stubbornly refuses to continue our hookup upstairs. While she’s never stated it outright, something tells me that Jude doesn’t mix her sex life with her personal space. She’ll have sex with a man, no problem, but she’s not about to invite him into her own home—or end up in a man’s.
It’s disappointing as fuck.
I want more than just a hot fuck in my back room. Never before have I wanted that. I mean, I still don�
�t want anything permanent, but would an extended fling be so bad? My brothers certainly seem to be enjoying it. Maybe it would be nice to have a warm female cuddled up next to me in bed night after night.
Now that I think about it, this is actually perfect. Jude’s only here for a month. We already know we’re both clean. We have plenty of time together. Why not have a little fun and then go our separate ways?
Jude’s more than open to it. A woman doesn’t suck a man’s cock like that when she’s uninterested in another round. Christ, just thinking about her lips wrapped around me has my cock half-hard again. A man could lose himself in a woman like Miss Shaw.
So tomorrow, Operation Fuck You Silly commences. I’m going to have her anywhere and anytime she’ll allow me. I just have to get through tonight, when all I want is to be inside her. Again. And again.
Should be easy, right?
Shucking my clothes off at the foot of my bed, I climb in and groan in satisfaction. A chorus of meows echo beside me. Rolling over, I reach out blindly in search of my three cats Serena, Lindsey, and Danica—named after Serena Williams, Lindsey Vonn, and Danica Patrick; the sexiest athletes alive, obviously—and give turns petting them. They’ve long ago taken over the bed and prefer it to all other possible sleeping spots, but they still express their displeasure whenever I dare to wake them up. And of course, I could never disappoint my pretties.
After all, Nathan King is very much a pussy kind of guy. He aims to please.
When they’ve received an acceptable amount of affection, I roll back over and try to sleep. I make it about sixty seconds before my phone lights up with a call.
“Go away,” I grumble, flipping it over so the screen is face-down.
The phone falls silent, then starts ringing again. Swearing, I grab the annoying thing and squint at the screen. Noah. Damn it. He won’t stop until I pick up.
I answer the call. “What?”
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