by Alice Ward
I gasped again, the pressure in me tightening. Suddenly Seth hooked his hands around my hips and swiftly pulled me off the counter. Turning me around, he grabbed my hair in one hand, bent me over the counter with the other, then pummeled into me again.
My hands searched for something to grab onto, finding the toaster. Seth pushed harder and deeper into me. I cried out as I pulled on the cord to the toaster. The device went flying across the counter.
Seth pulled back and spun me back around to face him.
I gasped in exhaustion. “Jeez...”
He silenced me with a kiss. Pushing into me, he screwed me standing up against the counter. A ripple of pleasure washed over me, and I cried out into his mouth. At the same time, he groaned. We met release together, standing, my ass pressed against the cutlery drawer.
I collapsed backwards to lean against the counter and Seth followed, languidly running his lips along my jawline.
“I…” I gasped for air and fanned myself with my hand.
“Mmhmm?” he murmured into my neck.
“I’m hungry.” I nipped playfully at his shoulder.
“Hey!” He jerked back.
“Sorry,” I grinned. “I just worked up an appetite.”
He spanked my thigh. “You go get dressed. I’ll finish dinner.”
I gathered up my clothes then did my best impression of a salute. “Sir, yes sir!”
“Go before I spank you with this spatula. Although you’d probably love it.”
I stuck my tongue out at him and headed for the stairs. I needed a shower, but that would have to wait. Maybe after dinner Seth and I could jump into one together. Or take a swim. It was a bit cool out but if we didn’t do it tonight we might not get a chance for the rest of the year.
I hummed to myself as I picked out clothes, settling on a short, flowing skirt and a loose t-shirt. I ran my hands through my hair to loosen any tangles, and my fingers grazed over one of the earrings I wore.
I stopped where I was, standing in the middle of the room. Seth’s voice floated up from below, his words indecipherable, but using the tone he did when he talked to Starlet. Shadows from the big tree outside my window danced on the wall and the bed, the movement that had seemed so deathly ominous some nights now beautifully poignant.
So much had happened in the last couple months. I couldn’t even begin to understand it all. Somehow, despite my best efforts to keep him out, Seth had come into my life. I smiled at the memory of the first time we spoke, of how annoyed I’d been with him at the bar.
I would get annoyed with him again. Maybe even as soon as tonight. Maybe before dinner was even over. We both had very specific ideas about how to cook veggies, just like we had very specific ideas about everything else.
Type A plus Type A… what did it add up to? A whirlwind romance or an insane disaster?
It didn’t matter. Like Seth and I had already determined, we’d both been through hell. We’d walked through it on our own, and we’d walked through it together. Whatever came next, no matter what it might be, wouldn’t be able to shake us.
Nothing could shake us.
That knowledge was the best promise I could ever receive. It was better than an engagement ring, better than a baby. Alone I was capable. With Seth I was capable. No matter what happened, things would be right.
Things would be good.
I gave the earring one last rub then went down to dinner.
THE END
Continue on to read the next in the Lords of the City series, Forgiven?: the Epilogue.
Forgiven?
LORDS OF THE CITY
EPILOGUE
BOOK DESCRIPTION
Welcome to the final, sexy STANDALONE epilogue novella in Bestselling Author Alice Ward’s bad boy billionaire romance series, Lords of the City.
He thinks ruling the world is his only need. It’s not...
There’s a hunger inside me that’s never been sated, no matter how much money, power, or women I feed it. I want it all, but all is never enough. Then I see her...
Candace is confident and strong, a woman who doesn’t sugarcoat things, and isn’t afraid to throw my words right back in my face. She revs me up, then leaves me stranded.
I need to walk away before she breaks me... no, before she saves me.
CHAPTER ONE
Niall
I stumbled back against the wall, empty coat hangers clanking together as I hit them. The girl against me giggled and pressed her mouth to mine. Salty and sinful. The taste I loved best.
With a big sigh, she planted her palms against me and pushed off my shoulders. The sliver of light coming through the closed door fell on her bare tits and outlined the profile of her friend, who was busy pulling her mini skirt back on.
It was a shame we couldn’t have turned the light on. It would have been nice to see their naked bodies instead of only feeling them. But keeping the light on might have resulted in more than just me getting personally blown.
Threesomes in public places were one of the things I had a sweet tooth for. Getting caught engaging in them wasn’t. Maybe in another place, at another time, when people didn’t know who I was, I might have enjoyed a little taste of exhibitionism. Three floors below, the work event I was supposed to be schmoozing at just wasn’t the place to get caught banging a couple models.
The girls finished getting dressed. I straightened my tie and ran my fingers through my hair, searching for any tufts that might have gotten out of place.
The brunette turned her phone on and, by the light of it, wrote a number down. With a wink, she stuffed it in my pants pocket. Pulling away, her fingertips grazed across my dick. I winced a little bit. Not only was I sensitive there, I was now devoid of any more passion. I’d indulged my craving for the two girls I met in the lobby on my way up to the tenth floor. Now I was stuffed.
And I already knew I’d never need a bite of either one of them again.
We went through the motions, though, with me smiling and whispering that it was great, I’d be in touch. They slipped from the coat room, a spot getting close to no traffic thanks to it being summer, and I waited another few minutes before exiting myself.
The elevator flew up to the tenth floor, and I finally arrived at the cocktail party. It had been organized to be a part of Tech Week in Chicago, a sort of industry meet and greet. It was a colossal waste of my time. Anyone I needed to know I would meet eventually. Young entrepreneurs and seasoned geniuses beat paths to the door of Lambert Industries. At the top of my game, I didn’t exactly have to go hunting for business contracts anymore.
My publicist, an annoying prick sometimes, but also one who usually had good points, had insisted I attend the event. Making face was good, he claimed. Shake some hands. Take some pictures. Go home.
I swiped a drink from the tray of a passing cocktail waitress and stepped into the fray. I knew about half of the people there by name. Another twenty or thirty percent I at least recognized.
Before I could take my first sip, Jeff Fairbanks, a suit who worked in marketing, was headed my way, another man in tow. He introduced me to the guy, Calvin something or another. He was from out of town and worked in the paper industry.
On another night, I might have been interested in prying the guy open, digging out his needs, strengths, and weaknesses so I could pull them out and hold them up to the light for inspection to see what I could get out of them.
But not tonight. There was something else brewing in my veins, a feeling I couldn’t quite name. It came close to restlessness, but it was also something else.
The ménage à trois in the coat closet had gone well, but I didn’t feel the sense of satisfaction such a fling would usually give me. Instead, I felt more ravenous. And for what I didn’t know. I just didn’t think it was for a woman or for a new business contract.
“Of course, if we got the calculations wrong, that means there’s gonna be a whole lot of glossy paper coming in this fall,” Calvin chuckled.
I
didn’t even pretend to smile. People needed to know when they were failing at trying to be amusing.
Calvin cleared his throat. “Of course it’s going to be a big, big sales week,” he went on, more seriously this time. “Down in accounting...”
He droned on, but I tuned him out. It was a little trick I was really good at while pretending to give a damn.
I drained the rest of my cocktail and studied the crowd. There were a handful of women there who could be potential prey. Though I was already afraid my sour mood couldn’t be fixed by the company of another woman, why not try?
An hour or two spent with a beautiful woman was much better than drinking myself into a coma. I knew more than a couple people who did that last thing nearly every night, and I had no desire to join their ranks.
A small group parted and a familiar figure turned, placing her back to me.
I sucked a sharp breath through my front teeth. My chest constricted. Despite the air going down my throat, I couldn’t seem to get a proper breath.
It couldn’t be. No.
Emma.
Over a year had passed since I’d seen her. Much of that time I’d spent trying to forget her. Trying to get her out of my head. It was so unfair. If only she hadn’t been so forceful, if only she hadn’t taken it upon herself to question me…
Maybe…
Maybe what?
I didn’t know. I hadn’t been looking for a girlfriend, and I still wasn’t. But Emma… Emma was different.
The woman turned around, and I finally exhaled. It wasn’t her.
“Niall?” Jeff asked. “Are you all right?”
I cleared my throat and looked back at them. “Just a little headache. If you’ll excuse me...”
I left before they could respond.
Making a beeline for the bar, I grabbed a beer from an ice bucket. No more scanning the crowd. This event had proven to be a waste of time. My publicist had been wrong about this one. After chugging my second drink, I would leave.
Or maybe just take the beer with me. My driver was waiting downstairs anyway. Why not go ahead and treat myself to a little night cap on the ride home?
“That’s a good one, although I like their fall seasonal better,” a female voice said.
I looked up and froze. From the other side of the bar, a pair of deep blue eyes gazed back at me. They were set in a heart shaped face surrounded by wavy blonde hair. The woman who possessed these model good looks planted her hands on the bar and leaned toward me.
“Is that so?” I asked, leaning forward too.
Her head cocked. “It is.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it… which seems like a good idea, since you’re the bartender and clearly the expert.”
“Oh, I’m not the bartender.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “That guy is.”
At the other end of the table, a young guy in a black button up hurriedly mixed drinks.
The woman came around the back of the table to stand at its end. Now I could see just how tall she was. With her towering heels, we were probably a perfect match down to the very inch. She wore a tight party dress featuring flowers down one side while bangles clinked on her wrists. I gathered all of this information using peripheral vision since I didn’t want her to catch me blatantly checking her out.
She ran a hand through her chin length hair and studied me. “How are you enjoying the event?”
I opened my mouth to spit out a bullshit answer but then thought better of it. I only lied when it would get me what I needed. “I’m not.”
One of her finely arched eyebrows cocked. “Well, how about the drinks? Or the appetizers? Or the décor?”
“I haven’t had any appetizers, don’t know anything about decorating… but I did have a decent cocktail.”
A smile sprouted on her full, red lips. “There we go. That makes me happy.”
I turned toward her more fully. “I’d offer to buy you one, but it’s an open bar.”
She inclined her head in acknowledgment. “And I’d take your offer, but I’m on the clock.”
“Shame.”
She just smiled coyly, never breaking eye contact.
How old is this woman? It was impossible to tell. Judging by her looks alone, she could be a twenty-one-year-old supermodel. She didn’t talk like she was that young though. She had the savvy attitude and conversational strength most people didn’t possess at forty.
“So tell me,” I said, taking a small step toward her. “If you’re not bartending here tonight, then what are you doing?”
She crossed her arms and leaned a little closer. Vanilla hit my nose. “Making sure the shit doesn’t hit the fan,” she said in a low voice.
“So you’re the event manager?”
“This is my catering company here tonight.”
“Ah.” I took a drink of my beer. “In that case, I’ll definitely try an appetizer.”
“You’ll like it,” she promised. Her eyes darted over my shoulder, and her expression changed to a more serious one. “If you’ll excuse me, there seems to be a wine glass situation that needs my attention.”
“Wait,” I said, quicker than I meant to. She halted, her cool eyes latching onto mine.
I held out my hand for a shake. “Niall.”
“Candace.” Her hand gripped mine firmly.
“When do you finish tonight, Candace?”
“Well, Niall, that depends on a lot of things. When the last guest leaves, how quickly my busboy gets the van back here, how competent my servers are feeling...”
“The night is nearly over.”
She looked at the bangles on her wrist, and I realized for the first time that she wore a thin, gold watch there. I loved to see a woman wearing a wrist watch. Not enough people depended on them anymore. Most everyone was too attached to their phones.
“If you call nine o’clock almost over, sure.” Her eyes sparkled in a new way, and then I knew. I’d hooked her.
“See you later then.”
“Maybe.” One corner of her mouth twisted up and she glided away, the plain floor transforming into her personal catwalk.
I turned to watch her cross the room, the empty, discontented feeling from earlier completely gone. Of course I hadn’t felt satisfied after getting those two girls naked. They were nothing compared to Candace.
Candace.
Just the name made me burn.
Nine o’clock. The party was almost over, but the night was still young.
CHAPTER TWO
Candace
“Wow, that was crazy,” Stephanie huffed as we folded the cocktail tablecloths.
Crazy awesome.
“Thank God we had enough food,” I answered.
She nodded, eyes wide.
“Thanks again for coming in,” I told her for about the twentieth time that night.
My friend smiled. “No problem. What’s a couple nights a month spent catering? It helps keep me humble.”
I laughed. “What do you mean?”
“It reminds me that I never, never want to go back to waiting tables. Put me in a cubicle any day, thank you very much.”
I laughed, though I didn’t agree at all. As much as some people loathed customer service, I loved it. It was that feeling you got when you worked so hard to get something perfect, be it a dish or a floral arrangement, and then saw the excited look on someone’s face when they got to experience it first hand. The way their eyes lit up when they tasted your scones or the excited gasps that left their lips when they walked into a room you’d spent all day decorating. Those kinds of experiences were irreplaceable.
“Tell me something,” Stephanie softly said, shuffling down the cocktail table toward me. “Who’s the guy that’s been staring at you all night?”
I bit back a smile. “Is he here now?”
“Yep. Don’t look now, but he’s over by the door.”
This time I couldn’t hold the grin back. “Black hair? Gray eyes?”
“Sexy as
sin physique? Oh, yeah.”
“We talked earlier. Niall something.”
“If he’s still here he must want to talk to you.”
My eyes flicked up at the rest of the room. The last few guests had petered out only a few minutes ago.
Someone loudly cleared their throat. I turned around to find Niall walking up to us. He inclined his head in Steph’s direction and then set his eyes on me.
Stephanie grabbed the arm’s load of tablecloths. “I’ll go check on the, ah, keg. I’ll see if there’s anything left, you know?”
“You do that,” I agreed, trying to hide my pleased smile.
“Can I take you out for a drink?” Niall asked before Stephanie was even out of earshot.
The guy wasn’t shy.
I liked that.
Having spent way too much time with men who beat around the bush or played games thinking that made them interesting, I’d lost my patience for such things years ago.
“That sounds nice,” I said. “But I don’t know when I’ll finish here.”
“Oh, we’re good.”
Stephanie was back. Or maybe she’d never really left. Maybe she’d been just out of view, spying on my conversation.
“What?” I asked.
“I said we’re good,” she repeated. “Dan, Emily, and I can get it.”
I hesitated. “I’m not going to leave you.”
“We’re almost done. The bar is all cleaned up and the food packed. We just need to carry the stuff downstairs.” She stared me down. I could practically read the message in her eyes.
Having been my friend for over five years, Stephanie knew way more about me than probably anyone else. She knew the only spouse I had was work. She also knew that I dated when I could, but that, for the most part, my dating efforts had all ended in colossal failures. She was always trying to hook me up with her husband’s friends or people from the realty office she worked at.