* * *
Three months ago, we signed a new document—one that nullified any prior document and prenuptial agreement of any kind. If we separate, I am entitled to half of everything. I no longer need my safety net—the millions that are still tucked away in my checking account. The money has been like a virus, eating away at my otherwise perfect life. I need an antidote. I need to be cleansed.
* * *
I should have told him already. But everything has been so perfect. It is as if the man I was with before was preoccupied, and now he is free. Focused. On our life together. There are no rules; there are no secrets, except for mine.
* * *
The first few weeks we dealt with Cecile, her calls, her attempts to stop by the house. Drew is the one who finally controlled her, in his final task as Nathan’s employee. I think he has rejoined the police force, and I heard Cecile has moved to Paris. There has been no word from their camps in almost ten months, a silence I am grateful for.
* * *
I sit by the pool, my face turned to the sun, and wait, the soft pants of Groucho, our Lab, beside me. My eyes drift over to the guesthouse. What was once my home has been redone. It is now my office. The trophy wives of our expensive corner of the world now come to me for their parties, their teas, and their eight-year-old’s lavish birthday parties. The bed was taken out, a large worktable put in its place. The walls are now covered with idea boards, the bookshelves full of magazines and scrapbooks. I am not the local’s first choice for weddings and charity galas, but events too small to be dealt with by the big planners—those are my bread and butter. It keeps me busy, and I love the work, gaining confidence and experience with each event.
* * *
I am officially a wife. No longer just in name, but also in action. The stoic, cold man who I once knew is now a sexy, playful man who spoils me rotten and tells me every night how much I mean to him. Then he typically throws me on the bed and rocks my sexual world. He tapes love notes to the mirror, wakes me up with kisses and soft caresses, and has completely won my father’s heart, becoming close friends with the old man who once only knew him through photos. My father is now well, on daily medication, but living a normal life. He has a place in town, fifteen minutes away, and is a frequent guest in our home.
* * *
I look down at my hands, at the check that lies there.
* * *
$4,500,000.00. Cashing this check will leave a balance of just over fifteen thousand, enough to pay off the remaining student loans and credit cards I have lingering about.
* * *
It will be a weight off my shoulders, giving it back, even though I am on his accounts now, and know the full extent of his wealth. This money is not needed; it will be excess cream on an already overflowing cup. But for me, the act is symbolic. I am giving him my trust. Destroying my safety net. Putting my faith in him—in us.
* * *
The check won’t fix everything. At moments when he is being especially sweet, when his eyes are full of love and shining at me like I can do no wrong … I think about Drew. Even though it meant nothing, even though I was filling a hole that Nathan had dug, it sits there, on my conscience. I keep waiting, thinking that he will bring it back up, will ask more questions. But maybe he feels about Drew the same way that I feel about Cecile. I don’t want to hear about anything they did, or words that passed between them. I only want to know that his heart is mine, and that he wants nothing to do with her.
* * *
My hands fist nervously around the check, wondering at his reaction to it. I know that he loves me. Loves me in a way stronger than he ever felt for Cecile. It took a while for me to fully grasp and accept that. For me, I think I always knew how I felt. I was lost to him the moment I saw him, the moment his eyes followed me in the dark club. I was always his, and I finally believe that he is fully mine. To have. To hold. Till death do us part.
* * *
I hear the drag of gates, the crunch of tires, and know that he is here. Gripping the check, I stand and move to meet my husband.
* * *
He greets me with an easy smile, tossing a set of plans onto the side table and sweeping me into his arms. His hand gathers my hair, tenderly gripping it as his mouth takes my own, his free arm curving around and pulling me tightly into him.
* * *
I push gently against his chest, the hand holding the check squished between our bodies. “I need to talk to you.”
* * *
His eyes turn serious, his hand stilling on my hair. “What’s wrong? Is it your father?”
* * *
I shake my head quickly. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just need a minute with you.”
* * *
He tilts his head, a question in his eyes, and smiles warily. “Okay. Let’s go to the couch.”
* * *
He settles into the leather, looking at me expectantly. I sit on the ottoman before him, my hand gripping the folded check tightly. “There’s something I haven’t been honest about. Something I did a long time ago.” I hold out the check and he takes it, unfolding it slowly, his eyes scanning the paper’s surface before he looks up at me. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to explain. “I … When I found out about the money, the Bahamas … I thought you might leave me.” I pause, tucking my hair behind my ear. “I thought you’d want me to leave once you got the money, once I fulfilled my purpose. With my father, with his medical bills … I took some of the money. As a safety net. From CeeCee's account.”
* * *
He glances down at the check. “A four and a half million dollar safety net?” His voice is quiet, scarily so, devoid of any emotion, no clues in his tone.
* * *
I shrug weakly, panic increasing at his lack of reaction. “I’m sorry Nathan. I just couldn’t imagine Cecile not coming back. And I saw how much you loved her. I knew that I would lose that battle—that you would leave me and choose her. I could afford to disappoint myself, but I couldn’t re-abandon my father.”
* * *
He leans forward and gently lifts my chin, pulling my eyes to his. “I didn’t love her,” he says firmly. “I thought I did. But what we have? This is love.” He holds my gaze until I nod, then releases me, sitting back and looking at the check, his face tight. “Your father’s situation doesn’t excuse what you did.”
* * *
I swallow hard, my heart rate increasing. I had expected Nathan to be angry, had prepared myself for an argument, a practiced apology ready. But I didn’t expect, hadn’t prepared myself for any serious consequences. Not from the man who had proven day after day, in every moment of the last year, that he was head over heels in love with me. But now, looking at his tight face and hearing the granite in his words, the gravity of this situation hits me full force. I’d stolen millions of dollars from him. I’d kept a secret of enormous magnitude through a year’s worth of “I love you’s” and early morning cuddles. This is a sin that could cause our demise. I had flippantly expected forgiveness, never thinking of the horrific alternative.
* * *
He clears his throat. “But, neither did my situation excuse my behavior.” I blink at him, trying to understand his statement, my mind stuttering back and piecing his sentences together.
* * *
He leans forward, pulling me off the ottoman and onto his lap, cradling me in his arms, my head in the crook of his arm, looking up and into that gorgeous, impossibly perfect face. He furrows his brow, his finger tracing the line of my mouth as he speaks. “I did a lot of things during our first time together that I am ashamed of. You had every reason to hate me during that time. We, despite what was on paper, were not husband and wife. I was in no way, shape, or form, worthy of being called your husband. I wouldn’t blame you for anything you did during that time, especially if it brought you peace of mind or security.” He bends down, brushing his lips over mine. Then he pulls away, a smile tugging at his mouth. He taps the check gently on my chest.
“This money?” He drops the paper, letting it fall gently on my shirt. “I always knew, Candy. CeeCee's statements have come to this address since the day I opened that account for her. I’ve known the balance of that account to the penny and watched it grow.”
* * *
It takes me a moment to understand. “What? You’ve known this whole time?”
* * *
He grins, sliding his hand under the bottom hem of my shirt, his warm palm tickling my skin as he gently rubs his thumb over the planes of my stomach. “Yes, my devious, sexy wife. I knew.”
* * *
“Why didn’t you say something? Weren’t you mad?” He slides his hand downward, the tips of his fingers slipping under my shorts and trailing the lace of my panties. His expression sobers, his eyes locking on mine. “At the time, I thought it was a good sign—proof that you wouldn’t take it all and run. Proof that you would follow through and help me out.”
* * *
Relief floods me, stress leaving my body at his words. I close my eyes as he undoes my shorts, his hand stealing deeper, further into the lace boundary of my sex. “So … I’m forgiven?” I mumble, catching my breath when his fingers climb deftly lower, his hand cupping me as his fingers push the fabric of my panties against and slightly inside of my wet core.
* * *
His mouth moves to mine. “If you can forgive the ass that I was, I can forgive anything and everything you choose to torture me with over the next lifetime.”
* * *
“Torture, huh?” I smile against his mouth, pulling away from his kiss long enough to stand, sliding my shorts over my hips and dropping them to the floor.
* * *
“You have something in mind?” he growls.
* * *
“Sit back, Mr. Dumont.” I kneel before him, running my hands firmly up the thighs of his suit and over the outline of his cock, unbuckling his belt and tugging on the zipper. “Torture is an art I have mastered.”
* * *
He inhales when I slide my hands inside, his hard skin hot against my palm. “God, I love you.”
* * *
And then, our relationship continues the way it began, with me on my knees, his hard cock in my hand. But other than the wetness between my thighs, and the dominating sexuality of his too-gorgeous-for-words presence, everything else has changed.
* * *
I’ve gotten my happily ever after. Nathan was my golden ticket to the good life, and—much more importantly—true love and genuine happiness. If I weren’t throat-deep in delicious cock, I would pinch myself.
EPILOGUE
FIVE YEARS LATER
* * *
“No.” Her eyes flash at him, the stubbornness causing him to laugh. “I will not put my pants on.”
* * *
“You have to put your pants on.” I interrupt, snagging the back of her shirt and pulling her toward me. “Grandpa is going to be here in less than ten minutes to take you to the park and the park requires little girls to wear pants.”
* * *
“It is a stupid rule,” Nathan comments, holding out the hot purple jeans, which Bella snatches at with a frown. She sits down, holding out her chubby feet, which I brush off before working the pants on, my eyes catching the look that Nathan gives the two of us, a tender one that fills me with happiness.
* * *
Once properly attired, I shoo her off to the porch, the click of her shoes followed by Groucho. Nathan stands, and I hold up my hands to him. “Help me up, my love.”
* * *
He pulls me to my feet and against his chest, taking a gentle nip of my neck before releasing him. “How long will this park event take?” he inquires, his hands sliding underneath my T-shirt, his thumbs working their way under my sports bra.
* * *
I giggle, tugging at the top of his jeans. “I told Dad to keep her for at least two hours, and to call on the way back.”
* * *
“Two hours?” he narrows his eyes. “Two hours isn’t long enough to defile every surface in this house.”
* * *
“Well you shouldn’t have such a big house, Mr. Dumont,” I chide.
* * *
“We shouldn’t?” He questions. “I thought you wanted to fill up those other rooms with babies.”
* * *
“I don’t know,” I muse, running my hands through his hair. “I’m not sure that life can get any more perfect than this.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, as my dad’s truck carries Bella past our front gates, I eat my words. Nathan lifts me onto the dining room table, and everything crystallizes in the moment he pushes inside of me. It turns out, life can get about nine inches better. I tell him so, and a grin interrupts the canvas of his fierce sexuality.
* * *
“I love you,” he says gruffly, his mouth lowering to mine, his movements slowing as he takes his time with the kiss.
* * *
“I love you too.” I wrap my arms around his neck, arching into his body, my breasts against his bare chest.
* * *
He growls out my name, twisting my hair in his hands, and when I wrap my legs around his waist, both of us get lost in the pleasure.
* * *
Our words stop.
Our skin slaps.
His breath pants.
My heart thuds.
* * *
The first orgasm rips, and in it, I lose any last sense of fear. I embrace the father of my child, the provider of my life, the deliverer of my pleasure, the owner of my heart. I cry out his name and meet his eyes, the connection one thick with need and passion and love.
* * *
I will have him as long as there is breath in our bodies.
I will hold him as long as there is strength in our arms.
“Till death” does not apply to us. We will live on in the afterlife, in next lives or heavenly places.
* * *
We will never part. I know it as certainly as my next words.
* * *
“Nathan?”
* * *
“What?”
* * *
“Fuck me harder.” I smile. “Now.”
NOTE FROM AUTHOR
Candy and Nathan have been a part of my life since 2013, when I first wrote, and released, their story as a series of novellas. I published them as I wrote them, which meant that I didn’t always plan properly for latter events to unfold. It causes a rougher experience for the reader, and this story has been a bit of a stick in my side for the past four years. I’ve always vowed to return to this couple, and when a window of time appeared, I grabbed it and dove back into their world.
* * *
Whew, what a sexy world it is! I had so much fun reacquainting myself with Drew, Nathan and Candy. I realized early on that I needed to add some of Nathan’s point of view, to show his side of things. And I improved a bit on Candy, making her a stronger heroine, despite the situation she’s gotten herself into. :)
* * *
If you are an original reader from the days of the novellas, or are new to this couple—I hope you enjoyed their story. If you are looking for a similar read of mine, you will probably like TIGHT, which is also a standalone read. Click here for more information on it.
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Also, if you’ve ever thought about writing a novel yourself, you may be interested in Alessandra Torre Ink, or my How to Write Your First Book course! You can check out both of those items here.
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Thank you so much to Perla Cala, my proofreader and editor on this novel. Thank you to Tricia Crouch, my PA and right arm. A giant grateful hug to Natasha Tomic, for her insights and suggestions - you saved Nathan from a thousand reader glares. And thank you to The Next Step PR, for your publicity of this novel. More thanks goes to SueBee, the incredible Shhluts, my amazing Torreville ladies, the ARC Addicts, Erik Gevers, Judi Perkins, Lauren Perry, and all of the readers and authors who helpe
d to spread the word about this novel. I couldn’t be successful without every one of you.
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If you’d like to be notified when my next book releases, or to sign up for my popular monthly newsletter, please click here.
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xoxo,
* * *
Alessandra Torre
Trophy Wife Page 24