The Monroe Sisters

by Aliyah Burke

Even as he moved closer, he knew the answer—because she was Tara’s sister. “Andrew Coleman.”

  “And am I to call you Drew or Andrew?”

  “Andrew.”

  “I see. Drew is the private name between you. Short like the sex you had if you’re here so soon. Now I understand her frustration.”

  What the fuck?

  “We didn’t have sex.”

  She turned her back on him and went to the door. “Come on in, food’s waiting.”

  Andrew trailed her in and closed the thick door behind him. The rich, mouthwatering scent of food permeated the air and his belly growled in anticipation.

  “Don’t feel bad, her cooking has that effect on people.”

  Tara moved past him from the living room to the open kitchen where Shai stood over the stovetop, light shining off the violet in her hair. Two stunning women stood there and he knew deep in his gut he was a lucky bastard to have one of them in his life.

  Now I have to find a way to keep her there.

  “Come on in. Get a drink and pull up a stool.”

  Obeying, he noticed how much more relaxed Tara was now.

  “Thank you.” He poured himself a glass of white wine.

  Shai shrugged. “I love to cook.”

  Silence reigned for all of two minutes. Shai glanced between them both. “Someone should start talking.”

  From the mutinous set of Tara’s lush mouth, it wasn’t going to be her.

  “What do you do, Ms. Monroe?”

  “Shai, please. I’m a professor and unless you love math, you will find it boring. I want to know how you two met.”

  His gaze shot to Tara and heat filled him when he found she was already watching him. He gave a gentle smile.

  “That’s easy. It was a Thursday afternoon and I was walking along a beach on Ko Pha Ngan when I spied her near Sunrise Beach. She was playing in the surf with some of the local kids.”

  The corners of Tara’s mouth turned up as a faint flush danced over her olive skin. It was the first hint of shyness since he’d been reunited with her.

  “Always did love kids, this one.”

  With deft motions, Tara portioned up equal amounts of food onto the plates Shai had set before her.

  “Stop acting like you don’t.” Tara paused to shoot her sister a glare without all that much heat to it.

  Shai ignored her, instead gesturing at him in a way he took to mean carry on. Then she slid a dark cranberry-hued plate before him, piled with stuffed ravioli, green beans and some hot, buttery dinner rolls—the kind with the three sections that could be torn into with ease.

  “Mushroom and chicken stuffed ravioli, a dried tomato pesto sauce, green beans. Are you allergic?”

  Now she asks me this after setting this plate before me smelling like manna from heaven? Who cares? I’m eating it.

  “Don’t believe so.”

  “Good, the doc isn’t here to save your life. I mean, I could try a tracheotomy but I’m not sure—”

  “I’ll be fine, thank you. Smells amazing.”

  Tara had already begun to eat, apparently not waiting on them to finish discussing if he would need her sister to cut open his neck so he could breathe later if he ate with them.

  “How long after you met were you in bed together?”

  Andrew gestured to Tara. “I’ll let you answer this one since I got the first one.”

  “Ass,” she muttered, not so quiet.

  “A nice one from what I saw as he walked to the driver’s door.” Shai cut up each square into smaller pieces before eating them. Completely different from Tara, who stabbed and ate.

  Andrew flushed yet winked at Tara when their eyes locked once more.

  As the food and wine went on, Andrew realized how much they loved and respected each other. He liked Shai even if—according to her—she had yet to make her mind up on him.

  He helped clean up after the meal, then they switched locations from the warm kitchen to the living room. With the fire roaring inside, the snow falling outside and his wife beside him, Andrew didn’t want to be anywhere else.

  Tara excused herself and vanished down the hall.

  “Thank you again for the meal, it was delicious.”

  She watched him unwaveringly. “Why do you want back in her life?”

  The question was expected and yet he didn’t want to respond. That was between him and Tara at the end of it all.

  “Don’t want to tell me, fine. Heed me well, Baron, I’m fucking”—she rose and stood before him—“sick of men hurting my sisters. Really fucking annoyed by it. I maybe the youngest, but I’m definitely not the nicest of us.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Fine,” he replied as Tara entered the room.

  “Merely taking his drink for a refill.” Shia’s brown eyes bore into him as she plucked his glass away.

  Andrew opened his mouth when his phone rang. A tone only one person in this world had.

  “What, Wendy?”

  Both women focused on him with laser intensity.

  Shit.

  Chapter Five

  Tara’s gut churned at the sound of another woman’s name rolling off his tongue with such familiar ease. She wasn’t an unknown, because she had Drew’s number.

  I don’t have that.

  Not necessarily true. If he had the same number from years ago, she had it in her phone. Where it had sat for the past few years under BAC. That was it.

  Not that it mattered now. It was apparent he had a woman in his life named Wendy. Shai didn’t stick around but went to the kitchen where she opened another bottle of wine.

  “Either confront him about it or let it go.”

  “What?” She gripped the wineglass so hard, she was shocked it didn’t break.

  “I’m not an idiot, Tara. Both of us thought the same thing when he answered his phone like that. You’re either going to confront him or let it go.”

  Draining the newly filled glass of wine, she stared at her sister. “Why the fuck would I let it go?”

  “Because you’ve let him go for the past five years. Not caring what or who he did.”

  That hurt.

  “Not true,” she protested.

  Shai didn’t blink as they stood there, gazes locked. Tara cursed her sister in every way she knew how. Unperturbed, Shai took it.

  She blinked once after Tara’s tirade finished. “Done?”

  Angry tears burned the backs of her eyes and she nodded, refusing to allow them to spill free.

  “You’re cold at times, Shai.”

  “No, I’m pragmatic. You can’t be mad at him for something you’ve not given a damn about for the past few years. Especially when you don’t know what it’s about.” Her brown gaze softened. “This tells me how much you still care for him, because the kick ass lawyer you are knows that you need more than circumstantial evidence.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Shai moved closer to her and held her hands, tight. “I am saying that there was a reason you didn’t divorce him. You watch him like a starving woman who can’t get enough of the feast before her. What did we tell Eva?”

  “That she had to face him and then decide, even though we know she’s still in love with Grant.”

  Shai lifted an eyebrow. “And if she were here, you know damn well she’d be on my side about this. I’m going to bed. You two stay and talk. If you don’t want him to stay, send him on his way. Or go with him. Either way, talk.” She kissed Tara’s cheek and swept out of the kitchen like a royal. Before she got down the hall, she paused and turned back. “Before I forget, Mom and Dad are coming for breakfast so if you don’t want them to know about your baron, I would suggest not being here after six.”

  Alone, she watched Drew as he talked to this Wendy person. Unreasonable jealousy almost overwhelmed her. Giving in, she stomped over to him and glared.

  “I told you I would have them to you, why are you calling now?” He lifted his head and speared her with the deep
blue of his eyes. “Wait a minute.” Drew covered the phone with his hand. “Are we leaving?”

  The way he said we nearly weakened her resolve. “I am. If you want a ride back to your hotel, come on. If you want to crash here, fine.” She pivoted on her feet and got two steps before he stopped her.

  “I’ll call you back, Wendy.” She sneered, slapping her mask back into place before he spun her back to face him. “What is your problem? Why can’t you allow me to walk beside you and assist you with your coat as a gentleman should?”

  “Why don’t you finish your call to Wendy and I’ll be outside?”

  “She’s fine. I’ll call her back.” He pushed his phone into his jeans pocket.

  “Isn’t she going to wonder why you have to call her back?”

  “No, why would she? She knows I‘m here with you.”

  That jealousy wouldn’t leave her alone—it just sat there and nipped at her heels.

  “And she’s fine with you out trying to get into another woman’s pants?” Her words were clipped and short.

  His confusion melted away into understanding. “You’re jealous.”

  “Am not,” she protested.

  He helped her into her coat and led her to the car. “Take me back to the hotel.”

  She stewed the entire ride, wanting him to explain, but he did no such thing. He didn’t say a single word as they drove along the snowy roads. Her own anger grew with each passing mile and each falling snowflake. Still, he was silent.

  At the hotel, she slammed on the brakes before the front door. “There you go.”

  “You’re coming with me.”

  Four words issued with complete confidence.

  “Why would I do that?”

  He turned toward her in the faint light. There wasn’t any softness about him and her pussy spasmed at the heat and determination on his features.

  “Don’t make this any harder, Tara. We’re about to have our talk now. Then…”

  “Then what?”

  “Then I’m fucking my wife. Park the goddamn car and let’s go up to the suite.”

  Her nipples beaded and pressed against the smoothness of her bra. Pretty damn sure there would be a wet spot on the seat when she got up, she followed his order and parked. He was there to help her out and this time, he slipped an arm around her, leading her to the door.

  Tension was taut between them as they crossed the lobby floor and rode up in the elevator. She didn’t say a word, even though she did wonder if anyone had recognized her. She would hope not.

  “Let’s try this again,” he stated when they made it inside his room. “Coat off. Ass in chair. Because I’ll be damned if you’re leaving again tonight.”

  She watched him yank off his leather jacket and toss it onto a chair. Tara removed hers a bit slower, but his sharp gaze didn’t let her refuse. He gestured to her drink and while she didn’t need any more alcohol in her system, she did reclaim the chair she’d been in the first time she was here.

  “Let’s get this out in the open and over so we can move on. Wendy is my personal assistant.”

  She snorted. “Is that what you’re calling it?”

  He glared.

  “She’s been with me for four years now. I’ve not fucked her a single time, nor have I ever even tried to elicit sexual favors from her. She works for me and no, she wouldn’t have a problem with me being here with you, aside from the fact she thought she should have come to get you because I have a hostile takeover going on in one of my holdings I should be dealing with. She’s known you were my wife for a long time. She is the one who paid for your medical bills after you were shot. Another thing we will be discussing.”

  “Easy to say.”

  He shoved a hand through his hair. His eyes and face were hard, an unreadable mask.

  “I don’t lie. If I say I didn’t sleep with her then, goddammit, Tara, I didn’t. I’m married. And as I’m taking you at your word that you didn’t betray our vows, I’m telling you neither have I. Jesus, woman, I don’t want anyone else but you. Haven’t since that first moment I laid eyes on you.”

  Words that melted her—yet, if that were the case, why hadn’t he come sooner? She bit the inside of her cheek, hard enough to draw blood and re-center her focus on not falling into a small pile of mush, just because this man turned on the charm.

  I’m not falling for it. I won’t. He has been charming to get what he wanted, me as a wife. Then he changed.

  Even so, Shai’s words echoed in her head and she wasn’t sure what to do anymore. It was hell being this close to him and not being able to touch him, be held by him.

  “Words,” she said. “I hear pretty speeches all the time and, like I tell them, actions speak louder than words.”

  “Enough,” he snapped, rocketing up from the chair.

  His entire body quivered with leashed power that barely seemed capable of holding him back.

  Those deep blue eyes of his were so dark they would have passed as black. He prowled toward her, the beast released him from his shackles. Yet, she couldn’t move. She had grown roots despite the quaking her insides were doing. No denying it, there was more than a bit of fear there—he was imposing as shit.

  Andrew didn’t slow, just stalked up to her, eyes locked on her the entire way. He shoved his hands deep into her hair, anchoring her there—not that she would have been able to move—and slammed his mouth over hers.

  This wasn’t anything like the kiss he’d given her earlier in the night when they’d first arrived there. No. Not even close.

  Primal.

  Proprietary.

  She erupted in flames and whimpered as her legs wobbled with their pathetic attempt to hold her upright.

  Does he kiss Wendy like this? Or someone else?

  Iced water sluiced down her face and she tried to pull back. He didn’t let her. She bit at his tongue and he broke off the kiss, glaring down at her. One second, two, three. Drew growled low in his throat and shook his head before tossing her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing. Which, in retrospect she really didn’t weigh all that much.

  “Drew,” she screeched. “Put me down. Damn it, I’m the fucking ADA, you can’t do this to me.”

  He kicked the door to his bedroom open and deposited her on the floor. Tara shook from the combination of excitement, arousal and anger.

  “It’s Andrew.” The words were bit off and his look turned deadlier, if that were possible.

  “What the fuck ever,” she retorted. “Move. I’m done with this.”

  “No.”

  He moved to slam the door behind him, reminding her that she was now alone in a room with a bed and the man she’d not had sex with in five years. A man she dreamed about all the time and hell, had even named her vibrator after. Baron. How pathetic was she for that?

  “No?”

  “So you can hear. Did you not hear me say that Wendy—”

  Crack.

  She slapped him across the face as hard as she could manage.

  Fuck! That hurt. Tara had a hell of a swing. Andrew stared down at the woman who’d just smacked him. He snarled and pushed her back against the nearest wall, pinning her hands above her head with one of his own.

  “What the fuck was that for?”

  “I don’t want to hear you speak about your slut.”

  Allowing his left hand to slide along the curve of her hip, he gripped hard, digging his fingers into the flesh.

  “Let me go, Drew, or by God, I swear I will—”

  Enough was enough.

  He dipped his head and possessed her mouth until she had no choice but to submit. The second she did, he felt the change within her. He closed his eyes as she dry humped his thigh, moans, sweet as summer, rolling from her mouth.

  He palmed her ass and lifted her, allowing his rigid cock to settle between her legs where it belonged. Where he belonged.

  No more fighting. No more words, not right now. Pinning her between him and the wall with his body, he used h
is hands and ripped open her shirt, tiny buttons scattering all over. He didn’t give a fuck.

  His cock pulsed in his pants and he bucked against her. She had her head against the wall, eyes dilated with passion as she panted, lips swollen from the bruising kisses. Lowering his gaze, he moved it over her pale pink lace strapless bra. She moved her hands from above her head until he pinned a look at her. She put them back.

  Just in case, he held them there once more and undid her front clasp with expedition. He jerked his dick a few more times as he stared at her breasts. Fuck, he loved them. She wasn’t the biggest but what she had fit perfectly in his hands, nary a wasted inch.

  Her nipples tightened and he raked his gaze over her once more before ducking his head and wrapping his lips around one. Her mewl crescendoed into a cry as she bucked against him. He sucked harder as he rasped over the tip with his teeth and tongue.

  Andrew paid homage to her other breast before he slammed his mouth back over hers once more, thrusting his tongue deep. Releasing her wrists, he placed both his hands on her breasts, lifting them, tugging on the nipples, rolling them.

  He eagerly ate every whimper that came from her mouth, and when her fingers sank into his hair, yanking hard, he stopped kissing her and drew back to stare. Both of them were flushed, panting hard.

  Eyes locked on hers, he reached one hand up under the skirt she wore and brushed it along her pussy and the soaked panties blocking her entrance. He tucked a finger along the edge and ran up and down the material, allowing only slight brushes against her. Her mouth fell open as her pants grew shorter and sharper. Her hips bucked and tried to initiate more contact.

  His brain short-circuited when she dug her nails into the back of his head along his hairline. That had always been one of his spots.

  One-handed, he unbuttoned his jeans, shoved them down to around his knees and watched the hunger overflow in her eyes as she focused on his bobbing dick. He gripped himself and said, “Move your panties to the side.”

  She listened and he lined up the large swollen head with the one place it belonged in this world. Andrew pushed in, not hard, just with a single continuous stroke. She’d been small and tight since he’d first fucked her, but if she’d been without anyone for years, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.