Get You Back: Part Three: Redemption

by Juniper Bell

  "Her parents might."

  "Her parents don't. They want her to stop humiliating them. That's what they want. I've been down at the police station bribing everyone in sight. That fucking night guard just won himself a trip to Tahiti, the little shit. We think we have this contained. Now you have to step up and do the rest."

  "Fuck you."

  Wham. Backhand across my face. I took it, my eyes stinging from the blow. I didn't care. I just hated the way he tried to manipulate everyone's lives.

  "You get that one," I told him grimly. "But do that one more time and you'll have a fight on your hands. Do you really want to get physical here?"

  He glanced at the bracelet on my ankle.

  "Forget your little leash. I can whip your ass within ten yards, no problem."

  He coughed and took a step back. He knew what I could do to him if I chose. The only real leash he had on me was the information about Lauren's father. "So long as you do your part, we won't have a problem," he said, much more uncertainly than before he'd struck me.

  That's the thing about physical force. You have to use it effectively, or you feel more powerless than before. It can boomerang back in unpredictable ways. I learned that during my bar-brawl days.

  "Get out." I lay back on my cot and scratched my balls. Nothing says, “I couldn't care less that you're still here” than messing around with your junk.

  I didn't even look his way as he stepped toward the stairs. "Don't get too cocky," he said on his way out. "I hold every single card in this situation. I've been planning this too long to let some nympho screw it up. Or a spoiled kid who thinks he owns the world."

  I ignored his taunts. I listened carefully to each footstep on his way upstairs. The door closed, then down the hall he went.

  "Wait," I whispered, afraid Lauren would come out too soon.

  The heavier thump of the front door closing came next, then the familiar vibration of the Ferrari's engine. When the rumble had faded out of earshot, I finally pulled back the blankets and let Lauren out.

  She came bouncing out of there as if her hair was on fire. "Are you okay? He hit you so hard I could feel it all the way down here!" Her hands were on my face, gentle as feathers, but frantic. "He's a horrible, horrible man!"

  I chuckled bitterly. "I guess you're not the only one with unfortunate family members."

  "I can't believe you can joke about this! He hit you!"

  "Yeah." I moved my jaw back and forth. "I'm going to feel that one. Not sure how I'll explain the bruise to the Loon Lake upper crust."

  She threw her arms around me. I felt wetness as her cheek pressed against my chest.

  "Honey, don't cry. It's nothing. Just a bruise."

  She shook against me. "I was so afraid. I thought he was going to do something terrible. When he hit you … oh my God, do you know how hard it was to stay down there?"

  I ran my hands down her back, then hoisted her onto my lap. "I can imagine," I said seriously. "When I knew that Bliss had hurt you, I nearly lost my mind."

  She shuddered. "The only reason I didn't … well, I would have, actually, if he'd done it again. I was biting my hand to keep quiet."

  I took her hands in mine. "Which one?"

  She offered up her right hand, turning the palm up. I traced the indentations from her teeth on the fleshy base of her thumb. "You bit yourself."

  "To keep quiet. I knew you could handle the situation, but it was so hard to listen to you get hurt." She ended on a sob and wiped a tear from her cheek.

  I shifted her more closely against me, wanting no space between us. Her chest, still quivering with adrenaline, pressed against mine. I guided her legs around me. They closed snug around my hips. Her fragrance surrounded me, her usual feminine scent spiked with the sharp sweat of fear. Her warmth felt like manna from heaven.

  "He can't hurt me. Not when I have you right here in my arms. None of that matters. It's all going to be fine." The words spilled out in an unplanned murmur of comfort. Maybe I was comforting myself as much as her, because as soon as the words came out, I believed them.

  "He said you have to marry Izzy. Maybe you should. I'm afraid of what he'll do if you don't."

  I was too, but for her sake. I still had to protect her from my uncle. I had to protect us all, and I had no idea how.

  "He thinks he can control everything. Good luck with that. You know what I've figured out through this whole thing?" I stroked up and down her back, trying to soothe her. It seemed to work, as she sighed and settled the soft mounds of her breasts against my chest. My cock responded instantly.

  "What?"

  "If you think you can control anything or anyone in this life, you're fucked in the head."

  She giggled. "Ancient Chinese proverb?"

  "Brand-new Chinese proverb. I'm going to put it in a fortune cookie."

  "You know what they say to do with fortune cookies?" A mischievous note came into her voice—a great change from the tears of a few minutes before. "You're supposed to add 'in bed' at the end. So your fortune cookie would say, 'You're fucked in the head if you think you can control anyone … in bed.'"

  Well now, things were getting interesting. At least my rapidly growing stiffie thought so. "Hang on there, cowgirl. Controlling someone in bed, that's a different story. For instance, right now …" I flipped her over so she was flat on her back on the cot. I kneeled over her, crowding her legs between mine. "I'm in complete control."

  She narrowed her eyes at me. "The hell you are."

  "Is that a challenge?"

  "It's a fact. You just think you're in control." She shot a significant glance at my erection. "I have a feeling something else is calling the shots."

  I pulled my cock out of my pants in one quick motion. I wrapped my fist around the base and slid it up and down. The pink tip of her tongue appeared between her lips and her eyes widened.

  "You're talking about this guy?"

  She nodded, watching with a fascinated expression as I continued to arouse myself.

  "Okay, then, I'll keep him on the sidelines."

  She snorted. "You think you can do that?"

  "Of course I can. I'm always up for a challenge. We'll need ground rules though."

  She parted her sexy lips in a sigh. "Like what?"

  "I'll use any part of my body that I want except my cock. But just to keep things fair, you can't touch me. You keep your hands right here." I wrapped her hands around the metal bar that ran along the head of the cot. Heat flared in her green-gold eyes and her lips parted. "Verbal teasing only."

  "Verbal teasing it is." Her eyes gleamed with challenge. "Are you saying you won't put your big, hard, beautiful cock inside my hot pussy?"

  I groaned. "Damn. This might be tougher than I thought."

  I traced the lovely curve of her lips with my thumb, around and around until she nipped at my fingers. "Why don't you put your cock where your thumb is, big guy?" she taunted me. "Let me suck you the way I want to. I love it when you stick it all the way down my throat."

  "So you like it when I fuck your mouth?" I nibbled on those full, beautiful lips with their secret Mona Lisa curves.

  "Oh yeah. I like it when you fuck every part of me. Bring him on up here, why don't you?" She started to gesture with one of her hands.

  "Keep your hands where they are," I instructed her sharply.

  Her grip tightened again, even though her eyes spit fire at me. I dragged her black shirt up her torso until her breasts were exposed. She wore a simple pink bra with scalloped lace edging. I tugged the edge of each cup down over her breasts, so the lace slowly scraped her nipples. She arched her back, chasing the sensation. For a moment I let her hang there, nipples begging for more.

  I bent and licked each of them extensively, thoroughly, then blew across the little nubs. It was satisfying as hell to watch them visibly tighten. "God, your breasts are a work of art, Lauren." I flicked them with my thumbnails, up and down, pulling a deep groan from her. Her knuckles were white on the
railing.

  I left her bra where it was, since the tightness of the fabric exerted pressure on her breasts, which added to the sensation in her nipples. I moved down to her hips, which jumped to greet me. I unzipped her black pants and pulled them down just enough to expose her pussy. I didn't want her to be able to widen her legs or put them around me or do anything that would trigger me to lose control. I wanted her right where I had her. At my mercy.

  I dipped my head to the sweet spot between her legs and inhaled the intoxicating scent of her arousal. Her curls tickled my nose and made my mouth water. I indulged in a long lick of her cleft, exploring and delving, nibbling and sucking. I hadn't tasted her since Thailand, and the memory had haunted me.

  "I dreamed about this so many times, right here on this cot." As I spoke, my lips moved against her clit. She lifted her hips in the air to meet my mouth. I glanced up to see her still holding tight to the bar, her mouth open on a gasp, her nipples glistening from the moisture my tongue had lavished on them.

  My cock pulsed hard and I had to take a moment to get ahold of myself. Who's fucking idea was this anyway? What was I trying to prove?

  Then I noticed the intense color in her cheeks. Her eyes were closed, her expression one of rapture. This was about Lauren, not me. I'd finish this game because it brought her pleasure, not because I was in control. I'd never been and never would be. And that was fine, because when it comes to love, no one's in control.

  I put my head back between her legs and licked her with all the passion and devotion I had for this woman. I wrote a whole novel with my tongue. I used long laps with the rough flat of my tongue and precise lashes with the fleshy point. I stroked her inner thighs, then the downy hair covering the exquisite architecture of her intimate triangle. I slid a thumb deep within her channel. She welcomed it with a soft, needy cry.

  It wasn't a cock, that sound said. It wasn't what she needed.

  I circled the tightly clenched rear hole with one finger. Gently I probed inside.

  "I'd love to fuck you here," I told her. "I want your ass someday."

  "You can do that," she said in a broken voice. "Just let me come. Oh my God, Rye, I can't take it anymore."

  "You want to come?" I sank both my digits deeper inside her two passages. I pressed my tongue hard onto her clit, stroking rough the way she liked it. "Do you surrender? Did I win the challenge?"

  "Yes!"

  "Right now, like this?"

  "Yes! Now! No, I want you inside. No, don't stop!" I chuckled, lips curving against her sex. Sometimes you had to decide for a woman. Good thing I was a decisive kind of man. I licked faster, bringing more pressure to bear on that hot little clit, working the fingers lodged inside her, and felt the deep, immense, overwhelming satisfaction of instant explosion. She bucked hard, her entire body coming off the cot. She thrashed up and down, spasms taking her up and beyond, a soundless cry floating from her open mouth. I stayed with her, not letting up on the pressure until she fell back, limp.

  And even then, my sweet woman still had her hands locked onto that metal bar.

  I climbed up her body and took her mouth the way she'd described. I drove deep between her swollen lips. Her throat clasped me in its muscular heat and milked me with quick up and down movements. I felt her tongue, the roof of her mouth, the scrape of teeth, the hard wall at the back of her throat.

  With a guttural cry, I came. I started to pull out, but she sucked me harder, faster, pulling me deeper into her mouth. The intense pleasure made me blind, deaf, insane. My orgasm felt like it came from a place so deep inside me, I didn't know it existed. A mystical place that only Lauren could touch.

  When the last waves faded into the distance, I peeled myself off her and kneeled next to the cot. I uncurled her fingers from the rail and gently rubbed the circulation back into them. She gazed at me with sleepy, half-closed eyes. "Fine. You proved it. You're definitely, totally, absolutely in control. No doubt about it."

  I laughed and pulled up her bra, nestling her breasts back into their protective cups. "Once we're married, I'll prove it every night if you want."

  "Rye…" she protested weakly.

  "I told you I wasn't letting it go. Have you ever known me to back down?"

  She smiled and shook her head. She hadn't said "no" this time, I realized. Was Lauren finally going to agree to marry me? There I was, on my knees. The perfect moment. I could do it. Right now. Forget about Uncle Chris’s threats and propose to the woman I loved. Again.

  But before I could say the words, I felt something hard brush against my knee. The accordion file. The will. I reached under the cot to retrieve it. "You're hell on my focus, Lauren. I can't believe I almost forgot about the will."

  "You sure seemed pretty focused a few minutes ago," she teased.

  "Focusing on you is easy. I could focus on you all day and all night." I pulled out the document.

  Lauren came off the cot and sat cross-legged next to me, her hair deliciously rumpled. She rested her arm on my shoulder as I scanned through the document.

  As with most wills, it started with the smaller bequests to servants and charities and so forth. My father had plenty of those. I wondered how many of these bequests my uncle had actually fulfilled. Had Smythe, who used to cut Papa's hair, gotten his ten thousand dollars? Had OxFam gotten any portion of the fifty grand Papa had left them? With Uncle Chris in charge, who knew?

  "Look, you're here." I pointed to one line in the document. "To my beloved stepdaughter, Lauren Blakewell, I bequeath a fully funded education at the college of her choice."

  Her breath hitched. "I never went to college. He always said that would be my time to shine."

  "He really cared about you." The memory made my heart ache. My father was such a big-hearted man and he loved all children as a matter of course. For his own children, he had a fierce, protective passion. Anyone loved by my father knew they had someone in their corner.

  I scanned over Bliss's section—she'd been left a million dollars. She didn't deserve a cent, in my opinion.

  Finally I came to the most important section. I read it aloud. "According to long McAllister tradition, we McAllisters believe that our success is rooted in the foundation of a strong, loving marriage. From this essential partnership, all else flows. The McAllister Trust has always been structured to recognize that truth by granting spousal partners co-decision-making powers, until either death or, God forbid, divorce, dissolves the marriage. My dear, beloved wife Maureen assisted me in all decisions, and by the rules of the Trust, no other could replace her. Therefore, even though I remarried after her death, my second wife was never granted that same status."

  Lauren frowned up at me. "So your parents both ran the trust? How did that work?"

  "I don't remember. It seemed to me that Papa made the decisions, but maybe it was different behind the scenes. They had a very close relationship, I know that."

  "Keep reading," she said impatiently. "It hasn't mentioned you yet."

  "As my eldest child, and the one most suited by training and interests to run the Trust, I hereby appoint Rye Xavier McAllister to the position of Head of the McAllister Trust and Keeper of the family legacy. In keeping with our tradition of honoring the value of a close and loving marriage, I stipulate that his spouse be granted equal status. Decisions made in partnership with a loving and committed partner are more tested, more reliable, and more just. It worked for me and your mother, Rye. It will work for you. Choose wisely."

  Holy shit. The words on the document danced around in a blur of black and white. Equal status. Head of the Trust. Choose wisely.

  Lauren turned her face away from me with a sound of despair. I put a hand on her shoulder but she shrank away. "Lauren. What's wrong?"

  Her whisper carried through the still air like a death knell. "Bliss knew about this. She must have."

  I shoved the papers aside and tilted her face to mine. "Who knows? Who cares? Bliss has nothing to do with us."

  But she was shaki
ng her head in quick little panicked movements. "This is why she told you I was in Thailand. You kept looking for me, so she saw an opportunity. She figured you must want me enough to marry me. That million dollars is just an appetizer. She wants access to the entire trust through me. Don't you see what this means, Rye? I can't marry you. Ever."

  She pulled her chin out of my grip and bolted to her feet, about to take flight.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "I can't let Bliss get that close to you. I don't trust her. No, that's not it." She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders quaking with emotion. "I don't trust myself."

  I faced her, gripping her forearms, gently tugging them away from her face. She resisted, and I didn't push it, so I had to try to reach her through the barricade of her fingers. "I trust you. We made a vow, remember? Never to doubt each other again."

  "I don't doubt you!" She ripped her hands away from her face. Her eyes were wild, blazing with golden-green light. "I doubt myself. She's had me for a lifetime. Training me, creating me into exactly what she wanted me to be. I've been the perfect daughter for her. I did everything she wanted and I did it well. Her training was impeccable. She's the master of manipulation."

  "But you walked away from her—"

  "I ran away. And I hid on a tiny corner of a remote island. Know why I hid? Because I didn't know who I was without her. I didn't trust myself to stand firm if she found me." Tears welled from her eyes but she blinked them away before they spilled over. "And back then, the stakes didn't involve anyone else. It was just me."

  A sick feeling gathered in my gut.

  "If I'm partly responsible for a billion-dollar fund, Bliss will never leave me alone. She'll be on me like … like … skin on bone. How will I ever know if I'm doing things because I want to or because she made me want to?"

  We stared at each other for a long, horror-struck moment. I saw exactly what she meant. And I had no answer.

  She ripped her arms out of my grip and ran for the stairs. "Goodbye, Rye. I'm so sorry. I love you, I'll always love you. But you’re about to be the head of the McAllister trust, the McAllister family. That means something. That’s an important position. You have to find the right kind of person to marry."