Cross Check (Marriage Contract #1)

by Colleen Masters

  “What, scotch isn’t your drink anymore?” he shoots back, a knowing smirk twisting his perfect lips.

  Goddammit. He’s got me there. Scotch is my drink of choice. But that doesn’t mean I want Mr. Man putting words in my mouth, thanks very much.

  “Same old Jamison,” I say, shaking my head, “Everything always has to be on your terms, even now.”

  “You bet your ass,” he winks back at me, sending conflicting waves of anger and elation sweeping through me.

  Before I can wrangle my runaway thoughts, Loudon King finally arrives at our table. Sinking down into his chair, he acts for the world like this get-together is perfectly routine.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he offers, as a waiter sets our scotches down and automatically furnishes Loudon with a martini. “You two have a minute to catch up?"

  “We sure did,” Jamison smiles across the table, lifting his glass to me before bringing it to his perfect lips.

  “I didn't know Jay would be joining us tonight,” I say to Loudon, smiling tightly back, “What a… nice surprise. It’s been ages.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Loudon says brusquely. “But after all this time, it seems that Jamison here is finally read to join the fold. Isn’t that right, Jay?”

  “That’s right Dad,” Jay replies, somewhat begrudgingly, I notice.

  These two have never had the sunniest of relationships before. While Jay was growing up, Loudon barely humored his passion for hockey. Loudon was always pressing Jay to take up a “serious” interest, something he could make a living out of. Even when Jay found success in the NHL and beyond, Loudon spoke of his son’s career like some kind of lark. Just a phase he was going through. But now, Loudon seems downright pleased to have Jay here. And something tells me I’m not going to like the reason why.

  “What does that mean, join the fold?” I ask Loudon, trying not to sound alarmed.

  “Oh, didn’t Jay tell you yet?” Loudon says, “At long last, he’s ready to get in on the family business. And about damn time.”

  I stare at Loudon for a long moment, waiting for him to deliver the punchline. Surely, this is some kind of joke. What could Jamison possibly have to offer King Enterprises? He doesn’t have a scrap of relevant experience.

  “In, uh, what capacity are you coming on board?” I ask Jay, all but gritting my teeth.

  “What did we say, Dad?” Jay asks his father, “Creative Executive to start?”

  “That’s right,” Loudon replies, sipping his martini.

  It’s all I can do not to stand up and walk away that very second. Creative executive is the position I currently hold. After years of busting my ass, working my way up the ladder. Now Prince Jamison shows up and gets handed the keys to the kingdom, just like that? I know I shouldn’t be surprised. This is exactly how privilege and nepotism work. But honestly, I thought Loudon was more principled than this.

  “Wow,” I manage to utter. “That’s... That’s really something.”

  “It sure is,” Loudon replies, completely oblivious to my distress.

  “It’s crazy isn’t it, Brody?” Jay smiles, casually taking a sip of scotch, “We’re gonna be coworkers. Who woulda thought?”

  “Not me,” I smile tightly, taking a long swallow of scotch myself.

  Though Loudon may not know or care how upset I am with this turn of events, Jamison can read me like an open book. He knows exactly how displeased I am with his sudden reappearance, and he’s getting quite the kick out of it, too. Well, two can play at that game. I’ve been in this business long enough to know that playing nice with people you can’t stand is just part of the job. With that in mind, I meet Jay’s smug sneer with a placid smirk of my own.

  Getting Daddy to give him a job at King Enterprises may have been a piece of cake for Jamison, but that doesn’t mean I have to go easy on him. Someone has to put the new guy through the paces, after all. And who better to take on that task than me? No one else at work will have the guts to stand up to the heir apparent. It’s up to me to keep the crown prince in line. I don’t expect it to be easy, handling an arrogant sonofabitch like Jamison, but hey—I’ve always been a girl who’s liked a good challenge.

  “So, when do you start?” I ask Jay, civil as can be.

  “Monday morning. Bright and early,” he replies, eyes gleaming as he stares at me across the table. “Get ready.”

  His interest has been noticeably piqued by my response to the news of his joining the family business. Surely, he didn’t really expect me to throw some kind of temper tantrum at the dinner table? If he did, he’s vastly underestimated me, that’s for sure. But though he looks surprised by my reaction, he doesn’t seem put off by it. If anything, he seems intrigued. Excited to have a worthy opponent. I guess not much has changed since we were little kids, competing over every little thing we could think of. Only now, the stakes are much higher. The company I’ve devoted the last six years of my life to hangs in the balance. And I’m not going to give it up without a fight.

  “Priscilla and I will be spending the weekend on Martha’s Vineyard,” Loudon says, interrupting my impassioned train of thought, “Next week, we’ll start integrating Jamison into the goings-on at King Enterprises. Maybe he’ll have some ideas for the YA series you just brought in for us, Leah?”

  “Yeah, maybe he will,” I reply aloud (while screaming OVER MY DEAD BODY on the inside, of course).

  By the time I arrive home again from the most draining dinner in recent memory, I’m brimming with suppressed frustration and outrage. Not bothering to take off my sleek cocktail dress, I flop onto my bed with a heavy sigh. Galadriel pads across the tiny studio, puzzled by my despondent behavior.

  “There’s a real shit storm brewing out there, Gigi,” I tell my feline companion, falling into a boozy slumber. “Let’s just hope this is the worst of it, huh?”

  Chapter Three

  “You might not want to go in there just now…” Pippa warns me earnestly, trying to block my path as I head into my office.

  “Not now, Pips,” I dismiss her, “I have way too much work to get through this morning.”

  “But Leah,” my assistant insists, grabbing hold of my arm. “Don’t you know? This isn’t even your office anymore.”

  “What are you talking about?” I snap, yanking my arm out of her grasp and storming past her. “Of course it’s my—”

  But as I wrench open the door to my office and step briskly inside, my heart slams against my ribcage with the force of a wrecking ball. My body goes stock still with rage as I take in the sight of Jamison King sitting at my desk, his Italian shoes resting atop a stack of important papers. His jet black suit is cut perfectly to his sculpted, relaxed form as he sits back in my leather chair, completely unperturbed by my entrance.

  “Good morning, Leah,” he drawls in his rich, irresistible voice. “Nice of you to stop by.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. King,” I hear Pippa whisper behind me, “I tried to stop her—”

  “That’s OK, sweethearts,” Jay laughs charitably, “Be a good girl and give me a moment alone with Miss Brody here, would you?”

  With a lovesick sigh, Pippa closes the door in my wake. As hard as I will my body to move, I’m utterly rooted in place as Jamison stands to face me, his gorgeous form elongated with newfound prestige and power. He looks damn good sitting in a corner office, I’ll give him that. But he can sure as shit go find a corner office of his own.

  “Don’t be mad at me, baby,” Jay chuckles, striding across the room to where I stand frozen, “I’m just following the boss’s orders.”

  “This can’t be happening…” I manage to hiss through gritted teeth, “You can’t just march in here and—”

  “On the contrary,” Jay murmurs, stopping before me with not an inch of space between our bodies. “I can. And do you know why that is, Leah?”

  “No. But I’m sure you’ll tell me,” I all but snarl, furious with my body for its electric excitement at the closeness of him.

&
nbsp; Jamison circles his hands around my slender waist, pulls me flush against him.

  “Because you want me here,” he growls, running his hands over the firm rise of my ass, letting me feel his staggering cock flush against my sex. “Go on. Admit that you want me.”

  I turn my face from his, trying desperately to hold my tongue. Of course I want him here. Right here, where I can feel his body against mine. That’s all I wanted for years, now. Since the last time I felt him deep, deep inside of me. But I can’t just come out and say it.

  “I can’t give you what you want unless you tell me…” he teases, letting his lips brush against the shell of my ear, driving me madder with every passing moment.

  “I…” the sound escapes my throat, wavering with lust. I clench my thighs together, trying to control the thunderous, pulsating need rattling every cell in my body.

  “Tell me,” he urges, as I steady myself against his perfectly muscled form, “Tell me that you want me to bend you over that desk and fuck you till you scream.”

  A low, ragged groan rips from my lips as my knees give out beneath me. Jamison catches me easily in his arms as I gasp for breath, beside myself with desperate need.

  “Please,” I beg him, grabbing hold of his expensive jacket with trembling hands, “I want you to… I need you to…”

  “Go on,” he commands, his blue eyes flaming as they bore into me.

  “Fuck me, Jay,” I whisper, giving my entire self over to him, “Now.”

  “See?” he grins, tracing his fingertip along the outline of my jaw, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  Before I can utter another syllable, Jay scoops me up into his corded arms. My office spins around me as he pivots across the room, crossing the space in three easy paces. My breath goes out of me as he flings me down across my own desk, sending papers and files flying every which way. I rest my cheek against the cool oak as he bends me over, pinning my torso to the desk as he tears down my panties with one sharp tug, whips open his belt buckle with a clatter. I wrap my fingers around the far edge of the desk, bracing myself as I feel the tip of his massive cock brush against my soaking wet pussy.

  “Christ, I’ve missed you…” I breathe, glancing up at his sculpted face.

  “I was only eighteen the last time you had me,” he grins back, trailing a hand down my spine, “I think you’ll find I’ve grown some since then.”

  I scream out in amazement and pleasure as Jamison drives his cock deep inside my eager body. For a moment, I’m convinced that he’s going to drive straight through me. But as he cocks back his hips and thrusts mightily again, I press myself hard against him, taking every single glorious inch of him into my body. He’s a hell of a lot of man, but I’m just the woman to handle him. I’ve always known that.

  Jay grabs a hold of my auburn hair, wrenching my head back just the way I like as he fucks he hard against my desk. I meet his every thrust with vigorous hunger, crying out as he slams deliciously into my core. Just when I think I can’t take any more, Jay reaches around my writhing body, laying two sure fingers against my clit as he pounds into me from behind. A long, low moan rises from my throat as he rubs that hard bundle, sending bolts of sensation coursing through my body. My knuckles are turning white as I struggle to hang onto the desk.

  “Come for me, Brody…” Jay commands, rolling my aching clit beneath his fingers as his cock thrusts into the very core of me. “You know you want to…”

  I can’t contain myself for another second. With total abandon, I give up every ounce of control, letting myself be swept away by intoxicating euphoria. I lose track of my mind as body alike as my whole self is subsumed by pure, throbbing sensation. The room around me fades and blurs into a kaleidoscope of color as my powerful orgasm rushes through me. The only real thing in the entire world is the weight of Jamison’s body against mine—the singular feel of him that I could never, ever forget.

  “Jay,” I whisper, turning around to face him in my delirium, “Just stay here, would you?”

  “No can do,” he replies, planting a searing kiss of my lips before pulling away, “But I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.”

  “What?” I gasp, as his gorgeous face fades into the blurry background. “No, don’t—”

  But it’s too late. He’s already disappeared from view. And not just him, the entire world around me is drifting out of focus, growing dimmer and colder even as I look on. My grasp on my surroundings is slipping, no matter how hard I try to hold onto to this perfect moment. I don’t want to lose this, I don’t want to leave, but a dawning realization is hanging overhead, bearing down on me with every passing moment…

  A familiar, jangling sound rises up out of the darkness, as if from very far away. Little by little it advances, reaching out to me across the abyss. At last, the blaring noise registers in my muddled mind. A ringing I’d know anywhere.

  Prying open my sleep-filled eyes, I look around my studio apartment in confusion. My surroundings are bathed in the gray light of very early morning. It’s Monday, and my alarm is set for 7am, just like always. Only, it isn’t my alarm going off at all. Someone’s calling me. Grabbing for the phone on my bedside table, I feel my stomach flip over as I see the time: 4am. Nothing good ever comes from a 4am phone call. I’m slightly relieved to see Pippa’s name flashing on the screen. I suppose I can handle a mere work emergency, even at this hour.

  “Pippa, do you know what time it is?” I murmur into my cell, trepidation tugging at the corners of my consciousness.

  I’m still trying to shake off my scintillating dream as I wait for my assistant’s response. I swear, I can still feel Jamison’s body pressed against me. God knows, that aching throb between my legs is real enough. I’m so distracted by the lingering sensation of my erotic dream that it takes me a moment to pick up on the gasping sounds flitting over the line.

  “Pippa?” I repeat, sitting bolt upright, “Pippa, are you crying?”

  “I’m s-sorry, Leah…” I hear my assistant sob, “I wanted to try and keep it together until after I’d told you…”

  “Told me what?” I ask, heart in my throat. Sitting alone in my darkened studio, my imagination runs amok. Has there been a fire at the office? A terrorist attack? Biological warfare sweeping the city? “Pippa,” I say desperately, panic mounting, “What’s happened?”

  “It’s the Kings,” she finally manages to splutter, “Loudon and Priscilla, I mean. They’re— Oh, Leah…”

  “Please Pippa,” I say softly, clutching the cell phone with both hands, “Just tell me.”

  “They’re gone,” she breathes at last, “I’ve only just gotten word.”

  “Wh-what do you mean, they’re gone?” I ask, feeling all at once like a frightened child.

  “Their plane crashed on the way back from the Vineyard,” Pippa goes on sorrowfully, “It was one of those little puddle jumpers, you know. And there a storm. Came out of nowhere.”

  “Oh my god,” I whisper, numbness sweeping through my body. It’s all I can manage to say. “Oh my god. Oh my god…”

  “Word is starting to spread through the company,” Pippa tells me, “I’m sure people will have a lot of questions in the morning. Well, later in the morning…”

  “Right,” I reply, my voice hollow. “Right. Of course.”

  “You’re Mr. King’s right hand,” Pippa says, “I’m sure people would prefer to hear the news from you, Leah.”

  The prospect of addressing my coworkers, of breaking this terrible news to them, turns my stomach. But Pippa’s right, of course. It’s what Loudon would have wanted. My heart strains as I think of my beloved boss in the past tense for the first time. Some part of me clings to the hope that this is just another dream that I’ll wake up from when the sun rises. But no. This hurts far too much to be a dream.

  “Mr. King—Jamison, I mean—is going with his sister to identify the bodies,” Pippa goes on tremulously, “So of course, he won’t be coming into the office today after all.”

&nb
sp; “No. Of course not,” I say, as Jay’s name sends a pang of despair slicing through me. “Look, Pippa, I need to go. I just… I need to think.”

  “Of course Leah,” my assistant says quickly, “I just wanted you to hear from me first.”

  “Thanks Pips. I appreciate it.”

  “And…Leah?” she goes on.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m…I’m so sorry for your loss,” Pippa replies.

  Unable to speak around the knot in my throat, I end the call and set down my phone with shaking hands. I sit in perfect stillness and silence, barely aware of the room brightening around me as the sun rises over Manhattan. It isn’t until my actual alarm goes off, hours later, that I shake myself into action. Dealing with this news is going to be a long, painful process. But that process, like all other, begins with a first step.

  Shaking, I pull myself to standing, wipe my eyes, and ready myself for the difficult day ahead.

  ***

  The entire next week rushes by in a confused jumble. The deaths of Loudon and Priscilla King aren’t just tragedies for those who knew them; they’re international news. King Enterprises is a gigantic operation, one of the most successful financing companies in the modern media landscape. The entire entertainment industry is clamoring for information about what happens next, what they can expect from the company moving forward, who’s going to be in charge now that Loudon King, the long-time president, has died. And while I’m bombarded with my fair share of press inquiries, panicked calls from clients, and news of collaborators hedging their bets, it’s all white noise to my ears. Before Loudon King was my boss, he was my mentor. Above all, I need to process his death on a personal level, and help those closest to him through this terrible time.

  Thankfully, Loudon and Priscilla left detailed instructions behind in case something should happen to them simultaneously. All of the arrangements are taken care of by the Kings’ personal staff. The memorial is set for the following Saturday, at the family’s church in Little Silver—my hometown. And so on night Friday, after scrambling to keep things under control at work all week, I gather my things and get ready to make a somber trip home. I pack a bag for the weekend, coax Gigi into her travel carrier, and hop on the 2 train down to Penn Station. After far too long an absence, I make my way back to the King Estate once again.