by Carter Blake
“First?” I fucking hope to hell she isn’t saying what I think she is. “First what?”
“First everything.” She lets out a frustrated breath. “I’ve been stuck in that horrible prison my grandmother calls a boarding school for so long that I never get to do anything. Do you know there’s no guys there… at all? Except for the principal and a few teachers. But they’re old, and…” She lets out a deep sigh. “I’m the only one of my friends that’s never been kissed. That’s never been…”
“I get it.” Leaning back against the counter I drag a rough hand through my hair.
“I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”
I don’t know why either, but every word that tumbles from those lush lips only intensifies the ache in my cock.
A low, muted growl rumbles up in my throat. “That’s not something you give away to just anyone, Red.”
Raw energy pulses between us. Because the primal part of me wants to claim her innocence. To devour her and make her mine.
“Why not?” Her hand reaches out to touch the ink on my chest, and I catch her wrist.
“Because you deserve better.”
“Everyone’s always telling me what I need. What I should want. Maybe I just want to choose for myself.” Her other hand snakes up, palm flattening on my abs, then she leans closer, her body pressing against mine. “What if I want danger… excitement?”
My cock is rock hard, pressing painfully against the denim that restrains it.
Only a fucking saint could resist an offer like that. And it’s been a long time since I’ve had my halo.
I skate my hand around the back of her neck, my fingers tangling in the hair at her nape and I tug, just hard enough to make her chin tilt up, her gaze meet mine.
“Is this what you want, Red?” I say roughly against the shell of her ear, sending a tremble through her body. “You want me to bury my cock inside of you? To lick that sweet pussy until you’re screaming my name?”
A small whimper is her only reply. And I can feel the fear that mixes with innocent yearnings.
“Run away. little girl, before I decide to take you up on your offer.” I inhale her scent, closing my eyes and struggling for some control. “But trust me, sweetheart. I don’t play childish games.”
Her breath hitches, and I feel her body tense, like she finally has a clue about how much danger she’s actually in.
Good.
I release her, dropping my hand, and watch as she takes a few quick steps backwards.
“I-I should go.”
“You should,” I agree, keeping my expression hard. No way I’m going to let this girl know just how much she’s gotten under my skin.
“Tha-thank you for saving me.” She stumbles towards the door, pulling her hood over her head.
“Red.” The command in my voice is clear, and she stops, glancing nervously over her shoulder, brown eyes wide when they look at me. “Be safe. There are more than just wolves out there ready to devour you.”
Confusion washes over her expression. So young. So naïve.
Again, something primal inside of me growls, wanting to protect her. To keep her. To make her mine.
Foolishness. She belongs to a different world. One that I’ll never be a part of.
She shoves her hands in her coat pockets and nods, then disappears down the stairs.
I grab the bottle of whisky and down half the bottle because it isn’t just my leg that’s throbbing now. The ache in my cock is going to be a hell of a lot harder to get rid of.
Chapter 1
Ella
Six Years Later…
My heart aches when I walk through the large wooden doors that lead to the foyer of my grandmother’s estate.
I was in France when I got the call that she passed.
Since then, the house has been left empty, except for the staff.
The staff. A small shiver races down my back when I think of Ash Hunter.
The man has done an exceptional job avoiding me over the years, but the news I just received from my grandmother’s attorney, placing me as the sole beneficiary of the estate, means that I’m currently his employer.
A position I doubt either one of us is happy about.
“Would you like me to take your bags to your room?” The butler who’s decked out in the whole penguin suit as to my grandmother’s preference, stares down his nose at me, thin lips pressed together severely.
“Thank you, George,” I say, trying to be as amiable as possible. Already the staff are eyeing me warily, and I know what they’re thinking. They’re wondering how a twenty-three-year-old woman, who is supposed to be finishing up her last year of under grad in art history, is going to manage an estate this size.
I’m trying to figure that out myself.
Because right now, I don’t have even the first clue as to where to start.
I’m supposed to be meeting with another of my grandmother’s lawyers later today to go over the finances, and my stomach is twisting at the thought.
Walking through the foyer, I exit through the back doors, taking in the huge estate.
Winterberry trees line one side of the house, the red berries striking against the fresh white powder that has recently fallen.
A loud crack makes my heart nearly jump out of my chest.
Another whack.
The sound echoes around me.
“What in God’s name?” My feet crunch through the snow, then stop cold when I see him.
Ash.
Axe flung over his shoulder, he picks up a log with his free hand and places it vertically on a tree stump, then steps back, and with perfect precision brings the axe down hard, splintering the log in two equal halves.
Through the red flannel shirt, I can see his heavy corded muscles bunch and tense. His large thighs strain at the denim, and his ass… my god, but the man has the most perfect backside.
His hair is longer than the last time I was here. Shaved on the sides and hanging thickly over one half of his ruggedly handsome face.
As if sensing my presence, he turns; blue eyes, dark and intense as they land on me.
Flames lick at my flesh, burning through me, setting my entire body on fire.
I feel the heat warm my cheeks, and when I start to take a step backwards I lose my footing on a patch of ice and go sprawling, landing hard with a sickening crunch.
Pain—sharp and hot—slices through my head as it bounces off what I assume is an icy patch of concrete.
My vision darkens instantly even though I can hear and sense the world moving around me.
A few deep, growl-like curses, are muttered above me. Hands, big and strong, are touching me. Calloused fingers stroke my face, and for a moment I don’t want my vision to return, prepared to spend a few more moments of bliss in the man’s embrace.
“Damn it, Red, open your eyes,” he demands roughly.
I blink several times, until the pinprick of light expands, revealing the smoldering blue eyes that have haunted my dreams for the last six years.
“What the hell were you thinking, wearing heels out here?” His tone is harsh, his expression brooding, but there’s a tenderness to his touch as he studies me, that makes the pain seem to dissipate, replaced by an aching hunger that clenches my core.
“Always my savior,” I try to joke, grinning up at him.
He grunts. “Because you’re always getting in trouble.”
I try to sit up and groan when the world spins.
“Here.” One arm snakes under my knees, the other behind my back, and he hoists me up against his god-like body.
As much as I hate being the damsel in distress, I’m not about to complain when he’s touching me.
As I inhale his scent—all male and woody—the butterflies in my stomach start to do a little dance of joy.
He’s intoxicating. Reeking of pure primal masculinity.
Compared to the guys on campus—even the football jocks who are gym buff—Ash is one hundred and t
en percent sinew and muscle.
I rest my cheek and palm on his chest as he carries me back up to the house, squirming to get closer to him.
He lets out a harsh breath. “Stop that.”
“What?”
“You know what.” His tone is laced with frustration.
“I’m not seventeen anymore.” I blink up at him and reach out to run my fingers across the ink along his neck that peeks out from his shirt. “You don’t have to be such a… gentleman all the time.”
“You think that’s what I am, Red?”
“That…” I know I’m pressing too hard when I say, “Or a coward.”
A feral noise rushes from his lips, and my feet hit the floor with a hard thud when he releases me. The only thing stopping me from falling, one large arm wrapped tightly around my waist.
He doesn’t say anything, no brooding remark like I usually get, just a concentrated look that makes me wonder if I went too far.
Hunger.
Lust.
Stubborn determination to stay the hell away from me. That’s what I see when I look in his eyes.
A man’s cough makes both of us tense. Ash drops his hold and takes a step back.
“Miss Redmond?” A deep, velvety voice says almost lyrically behind me.
Frustrated by the stranger’s rotten timing, I turn to face the intruder, only to be met by a pair of striking light brown eyes. Eyes the color of honey, framed by thick black lashes.
The man is devastatingly handsome, in the typical blueblood way. Chiseled features, strong jaw, straight nose, dark hair just long enough to give him a sexy mussed look that would make a woman beg to run her fingers through it.
One side of his grin tilts up higher than the other in a smirk that tells me he knows exactly what kind of effect he has on people.
“I’m Jared Wolfe.” He takes a step towards me, hand outstretched. “I’m the lawyer from Wolfe, Perrault, and Associates, who’s handling your grandmother’s estate.”
I take his hand, and stammer, when I feel the slice of energy that sizzles between us, “Ri-right. Sorry, I didn’t think you were coming until later.”
He doesn’t let go of his grip, just keeps those hypnotizing eyes focused on me. “If it’s a bad time—”
“No. It’s fine.” I shake my head, glancing at Ash from the corner of my eye, who’s standing all dark and brooding, glaring between us. Ignoring him, I turn back to Jared and grin up at him. “Why don’t we go into the study?”
The man’s smile broadens, and he gives a small nod.
I swear I hear a low growl come from Ash’s direction when I turn and start to walk away.
The man is so hard to read. I swear, one minute he’s looking at me like he wants to tear my clothes off, and the next he’s treating me like I’m a child that needs protecting, or worse—a spoiled rich girl he can’t stand being in the same room with.
In the study, I glance around the giant room with its unread books, and antique furniture, and suddenly feel extremely self-conscious.
The large mahogany desk where my grandfather used to sit and drink bourbon and smoke cigars, while I colored on the floor beside him, is another reminder I’m just playing grownups; that I really have no idea what I’m doing.
As if sensing my unease, Jared motions to one of the leather chairs. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
“Okay.” I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants and sit down.
He follows suit, sitting in the adjacent chair and placing his leather case on the desk. Leaning back, he steeples his fingers in front of his mouth and studies me.
I shift uncomfortably under his intimate gaze. “What exactly did you want to talk about?”
He gives me a sympathetic look, one that makes my stomach flip flop, because I know what it means—trouble.
“You’re aware that the estate has been left solely in your name?”
I nod, sitting straighter and bracing myself for the but that I know is coming.
“As trustee of the estate, my law firm is legally—”
“What do you mean, trustee?”
“Your grandmother entrusted my firm to oversee the estates’ finances while she was ill or incapacitated. Now that it’s in your name, my company holds the right to oversee the estate until you turn thirty.”
“Thirty? But that’s years away.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand. Why would she give you that much power?” I don’t even know the man. And I’m pretty sure my grandmother never mentioned him.
“She trusted me.” His grin is dark and full of hidden meaning. “And I hope you will too.”
An unsettled feeling stirs in my stomach. But my grandmother was a smart woman, she wouldn’t have given just anyone that much power without fully trusting them.
“Okay,” I say, uncertainty making my voice catch. “So, what happens? What do I do?”
“You don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of paying the staff, and any bills that ensue, and you’ll be given an allowance.”
“An allowance?” Each word he utters makes me feel more and more like an incompetent child.
“It’ll be enough to let you live the lifestyle you were already living. You can go back to school and finish—”
“And if I want to stay here?”
He frowns. “It’s your house, legally. If that’s what you want, you can stay.”
Then why do I feel like I suddenly need permission from him?
“And you?”
He cocks an eyebrow. “And me, what?”
“Where do you stay?”
A deep chuckle rumbles in his chest. “Not here, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”
“Right.” Heat warms my cheeks, once again I'm feeling foolish.
He tilts his head that same seductive grin playing on his lips. “Can I make a suggestion, Miss Redmond?”
“Of course.”
“You’re a very beautiful, young woman, who has recently come into a great amount of wealth. You need to be aware that there will be many men who will take an interest in you.” He nods towards the door, and I know where his mind wanders.
Ash.
Defensiveness steels my spine. “I’m perfectly capable of handling my own love life.”
Again, that grin. “I’m sure you are. I just want you to be careful.”
Careful. I hate that word. What I want is to be wild, to ride the wave of danger. To live and love and not worry about the damn consequences.
What I want is Ash.
“Thank you for your advice, Mr. Wolfe.” I start to stand and he takes my hand.
“Jared,” He says, thumb stroking across the back of my hand, sending small bolts of electricity sparking through me.
“Jared,” I repeat, unable to break from his mesmerizing gaze.
He leans closer, his expression full of intent, and his gaze drops to my mouth.
Hot.
Intense.
The man is all charm and raw sexuality, and it’s nearly impossible not to respond to his touch.
It’s not the same all-consuming, carnal desire that I get with Ash, but it’s something. I just can’t think straight enough to figure out what.
“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asks, not loosening his grip.
“Dinner?” I repeat. My voice is weak, shaky, and annoyingly childish, even to me.
He keeps watching me, lips quirked up in a sexy grin. “Tomorrow night?”
“Oh… all right.” I give a small nod. “Tomorrow.”
“I’ll see you then, Ella.” His voice drips with promise.
I watch his back as he exits the study, seeing Ash still standing in the foyer, all fire and broodiness, with his dark scruff, and plaid shirt rolled up, exposing his inked forearms. A striking comparison to the cool and collected man who just asked me out on a date.
It was a date, right?
I haven’t been on one in months. Too busy with school. Or at least that’s what I tel
l myself. It has nothing to do with the fact I’m obsessing over a man that doesn’t want me.
Maybe Jared Wolfe is exactly what I need to get my mind off Ash Hunter.
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Chapter 1
Lucas
“Who the hell is Eliana?” I shout into the intercom to my secretary when I scan my day’s agenda. I just have a note in my diary: Meeting with Eliana, 10 a.m., with a goddamn smiley face next to it.
If I could get help—any help—in this office, I would be a fucking trillionaire, rather than a billionaire.
“I am,” a feminine voice says, making me look up.
Shit.
At first glance, the woman looks like a typical all-American college student, dressed in a baggy Notre Dame sweatshirt and a pair of old jeans. Nothing special, until my gaze lands on her face.
She’s gorgeous. Not the typical runway-model, I-only-eat-salad-with-no-dressing look like my ex-wife, but the striking beauty of a woman confident in herself, and her curves. Lush, bee-stung lips that practically beg to be wrapped around my cock. Large, doe-like eyes that could have any man melting in a pool of romantic mush with a single look.
Thank God, I’m not any man. I’m Lucas fucking Philip. Cold-hearted son-of-a-bitch whose emotions are locked behind a steel cage.
The woman fidgets as she moves across the large room towards me.
My cock says, Hello Eliana.
But my mouth says, “What do you want?”
She doesn’t flinch like most people would. Instead, she says calmly, “Your assistant said you’re free to talk.”
I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes because I don’t have the time or patience for whatever my secretary said. I’ve fired the woman three times, but HR keeps insisting that it’s unlawful dismissal.
Bullshit.
She’s useless. How is that unlawful?
I’m pretty sure my father put something in her contract that makes it impossible to get rid of her – he's the one who hired her. For what reason, I have no idea. Sometimes, I get paranoid and think that she's some kind of spy for him. Even though he’s semi-retired, the man is constantly in my business, never fully trusting me, despite the billions I’ve made this company.