Men of Fortune 1: Derek

by Sienna Matthews

  “Derek?”

  Carly nodded, miserable. “He was distracted this morning, and he didn’t have his customary appetite. When I asked him what’s the matter, he lied and said he was thinking about the shoot today. But he wasn’t, I know he wasn’t. He wouldn’t look me in the eyes when he said it.”

  “Is that his usual behavior when he was lying?”

  “I’m not sure if that’s his usual behavior, but that’s what I noticed the first time he…lied.”

  “Tell me.” Compassion flowed out from Sue, her eyes lit with understanding.

  Carly gulped in a deep breath. It felt treacherous to be telling another person all about Derek, his secrets and his foibles. “He—It was for my birthday, two weeks after we married. He had a surprise all lined up, but he made me believe he’d forgotten the date. He looked anywhere but at me all while he was telling me some tall tale about needing to work overtime and all, and I found it suspicious. It was only later, when the surprise was revealed that I made the connection.” Her voice cracked. “God, I wish I hadn’t! Then I wouldn’t be—”

  “It’s good to know, Carly, whatever you may believe,” Sue interrupted her.

  “Is it?” She felt hollow and empty, devoid of the happy satisfaction that had inundated her since she met Derek. Was it only yesterday morning when he’d made her purr with pleasure and scream with ecstasy? How many hours since he’d last entered her and made her his? When he’d wrapped his arms around her and made her believe she was safe as long as he was by her side?

  “And last night,” she said abruptly. “We didn’t, we didn’t…I wanted to, but he—”

  “Oh, Carly.”

  She didn’t protest when Sue hugged her. Her tone of voice said it all: He was with another woman last night. He didn’t want to make love because he’d used up all his energy elsewhere.

  Her own inner voice chimed in, a devil’s voice: If he were with his cousins last night, why then did he invite them over tomorrow night? He couldn’t miss them that much, could he?

  She didn’t know what to think. She wanted to howl and scream in frustration and anger and hurt. Oh God, the pain, crowding her heart, squeezing her, as though her heart were a grape that had gone through the winepress.

  It was only when her breath hitched in her throat that she realized she was crying, great, wracking sobs that shook her whole frame. “Sue, what am I going to do? I can’t lose him, I can’t lose him…I love him, I love him…”

  In the end, Sue didn’t have any advice except to confront him and nip the affair in the bud while it was early. Her theory was that part of the thrill in an extramarital affair was the element of the forbidden and the challenge to outwit the spouse, to keep the spouse from discovering the affair while satisfying the “sweet tooth” with another for as long as possible.

  Carly didn’t know what to think about Sue’s theory, but she did agree on the matter of having it out with her husband. The only thing stopping her was, how exactly did one go about it? Every time she opened her mouth, nothing came out. She didn’t know where to start. Part of the reason was the new awkwardness between her and Derek, an awkwardness that hadn’t been there even during their courtship period. And perhaps, she was afraid. At least, right now, Derek still came home to her. When his secret was out, would he forsake the other woman? Or would he leave Carly?

  She was afraid she might not like the answer. That, more than anything, stayed her mouth.

  But no more. After tonight, after the dinner with his cousins, she’d tackle him about his affair. Or perhaps, she’d do it over dinner—no, that would tacky. Right after dinner, then, so she’d have witnesses. See if he could lie to boyhood friends, cousins who’d grown up with him, sheltered him, treated him like a brother and given him a family when he was abandoned by his mother.

  She dished up the last of the spaghetti into the serving bowl. She wasn’t that much of a great cook, but Derek and his cousins were good all-American boys, and the last time she’d served them spaghetti and fried chicken, they’d dug into the meal with gusto. She figured she couldn’t go wrong with serving up the same menu.

  Oops, Derek had said salad. She snorted. How could such big men be full with a few leaves? They need carbs and protein. Even if she and Derek were having problems, the least they could do was feed their guests well.

  “Oh, man,” Adam wailed when he saw her coming out with the tray of food. “I thought you said salad?” He shot Derek a look that said “traitor”.

  Carly stopped midway to the table and aimed Derek a look of her own. “You were serious?”

  “The guys are on a diet,” he replied, his eyes sliding away from her gaze to glance at each of his cousins.

  Seriously? was her incredulous thought even as she noted he was lying again. The realization weighed heavy on her. She really needed to have that talk with him. No more delay, no matter how it might hurt.

  “Just for tonight,” Oliver assured her. Rather hastily, she thought. “We all had a big lunch.”

  “Very well. We can have the chicken and salad then. It’ll take me a few minutes to toss one though.” She turned to go back to the kitchen, the big bowl of mouthwatering (if she may say so) spaghetti still in her hands. “I’ll just keep this—”

  “No, no.” Adam rescued the bowl from her and placed it rather firmly on the table. Then he plunked himself down on one of the seats. “I’m sure we can find room for a few strands.” He gestured toward the empty seats. “Come, sit, everyone. I’m hungry.”

  Mystified, Carly let herself be persuaded, and she sat at one end of the rectangular table with Adam and Oliver on her left and right side respectively. Derek sat at the other end, with Nathan on his left and Matthias on his right.

  One thing did strike her as inconsistent and she had no trouble expressing herself. Other women might be tongue-tied in the presence of so much male beauty and virility, but not her. Oh, she found Derek’s cousins attractive enough, with the kind of masculinity that would turn any living woman’s head, but she was in love with Derek and thus had eyes only for him.

  “Hmm. How could you be hungry when you’re full?” she asked Adam sweetly.

  Adam choked on a mouthful of noodles.

  “I think Adam meant—”

  “Can’t Adam talk for himself?” she interrupted Oliver in the same sweet tone.

  Something was going on among the men, she was sure of that. A funny vibe vibrated among them, and though they were relaxed, she couldn’t help but sense that it was a touch forced.

  Adam chased down the food with some beer. “Honey, I just meant that your food’s so delicious my full stomach couldn’t help rumbling and I just had to have a bite. Or several.”

  She grinned, appeased. Nothing was sexier than a man who loved food. “All right. Help yourself to more.”

  The conversation and the banter became easier after that. Though she’d met Derek’s cousins only thrice, they included her in the discussion as though they were all long-time friends. The talk meandered from family and common friends to politics to the latest movie.

  She noted that though each of the men took a small helping of spaghetti, Adam included, they did concentrate their meals on the chicken. Perhaps there was some truth to Derek’s word. Her heart lightened. Perhaps she couldn’t read Derek as well as she thought after all, and that meant Derek might not be lying that morning at the breakfast table.

  She was so engrossed in her thoughts that it was a while before she registered a crawling sensation on her calf. A mosquito? Or one of those big, red ants? She shuddered. No, please.

  She moved her leg away and was relieved when the sensation went away. A mosquito then. She’d have to get Derek to spray—

  It was back, and now it had crawled up to her thigh. What the—

  It was a hand, a man’s hand on her left thigh caressing her through the thin fabric of her skirt. What the—

  Shocked, her gaze swung to Adam, who was on her left. He ate and laughed as though nothi
ng of the ordinary had happened. Was she going nuts? No, because his right hand was missing, that is, she couldn’t see his right hand above the table.

  Sure now that he was feeling her up, she knocked his hand away. She was certain the caress wasn’t accidental either, as he’d rubbed the same spot on her thigh over and over. Angry that Derek’s cousin would do such a thing, a cousin he trusted, she glanced toward her husband. Did Derek know?

  Probably not. Her heart sank as she perused his laughing visage. He wouldn’t be this comfortable and at ease with them had he known one of his cousins was a vile seducer who’d hit on his wife.

  Or would that make them in the same league? One an adulterer while the other entices married women to adultery?

  Her head spun.

  Marrying into the Fortune family may not be so fortunate for her.

  All right, Adam had to know her intentions by her actions. She’d let it go this once. But if he did it again, she’d have no choice but to let Derek know. No matter how it hurt, her husband needed to know that his cousin had hit on her, with no invitation from her.

  “Carly, you’re not eating.” Adam frowned down at her plate, which was still half-full. “Anything the matter?”

  How could he look at her with such warm, innocent, brown eyes? Was she wrong somehow? Had she imagined the whole thing? She shook, tiny fine tremors radiating from within her body. Was she losing her mind?

  “Honey?”

  She attempted a smile. “I’m fine. Cooking a storm always robs me of appetite.”

  “Hmmm.” His eyes turned appraising as he surveyed her figure. “You should eat more. You’re too thin as it is.”

  A flicker of heat leaped in his eyes, causing an answering passion to rise up in her. Yes, she was attracted to Adam, in fact, to all Derek’s cousins, as they all looked good enough to eat, but so what? One didn’t eat all the beautiful cakes that caught one’s eye. Moreover, she was a married woman now, allowed to look but not to touch and certainly not to respond.

  Who was she kidding? They probably weren’t even attracted to her. After all, with looks like theirs, they could have any woman they wanted. Why would they want somebody like her, average and even plain? As for Adam, the man was a born flirt. He’d hit on old, toothless, wrinkled Granny if there were one around.

  She willed her pulse to slow down and become steady. “Really? My gym instructor would disagree with you. I’m close to ‘overweight’ on the BMI index.”

  On her other side, Oliver made a snort of disbelief. “I agree with Adam, but then, we like our women with a little meat.”

  “Thank goodness I’m not one of your women.”

  When Adam replied, “But you are,” her head whipped around so fast she feared it would tear off from her neck. “Explain yourself,” she demanded, heart pounding.

  Perhaps he’d damn himself. She had a witness after all—Oliver.

  Adam only smiled lazily. “You’re Derek’s wife, a Fortune. Of course you’re one of our women.”

  That was logical, only she wasn’t quite sure that was what Adam meant when he’d dropped that little bomb or Oliver when he’d agreed with the other man. What was going on here? She didn’t remember the men being this ambiguous and mysterious before, saying things that could have a double entendre.

  Adam’s hand hit her thigh again, and this time, he gave her a little smile, the heat flaring to life in his eyes. He insinuated his hand under her skirt, so that he touched her bare skin, and where he touched, her flesh burned—to her shame—with want.

  She trembled and froze. No, she couldn’t want Adam, and no, she couldn’t make a commotion. She’d vowed earlier to tell Derek if Adam made a pass again, but not like this, not through making a scene. Derek would be so hurt to know his cousin—

  No, she’d need to ease him gently into the knowledge—

  Adam’s hand inched higher with every second that she didn’t do anything. His hand carved a burning path on her skin. Riveted by the pleasurable sensations—reluctant as she was to acknowledge them—held motionless by the guilt and shame, she could do nothing but stare into his eyes, which while flaming with passion also contained another emotion, something like…condemnation? Disgust?

  When he brushed against her mound, she jumped out of her stupor and straight into anger—at herself. Her body might not recognize the man, but she did, and Adam was a man she couldn’t want.

  She pushed back her chair, causing Adam’s hand to fall away. She’d made such a commotion that the conversation died away, and all the men glanced at her end of the table, startled. She stood and asked, her voice sweet and deadly, masking the fury that lurked beneath, “Adam, dear, would you be so kind as to help me carry in the dessert?”

  The men returned to their meals as Adam grinned and followed her. However, once they were safely out of earshot in the kitchen, she whirled on him. “What do you think you’re doing? I wouldn’t have thought it of you, Adam Fortune!”

  Naked surprise crossed his face, then he lounged against one of the countertops, a charming, easy smile on his face. “Can’t you guess?” he asked softly. “I want you, Carly.”

  She’d suspected something along that line, but hearing it out loud still surprised her and made her gasp. “What!”

  “At work, when you sashay among the models in your high heels, you’re the one I want to fuck,” he continued in that soft voice, almost, but not quite, hypnotizing her. “You’re the one I want to bend over the props table and fuck for hours on end.” His voice thickened. “Can you imagine my cock moving in you, as I thrust deep, deep, deep into you?”

  She released a strangled sound.

  “I’ll have you naked in front of the camera, lying on a bed of white satin sheets, your legs spread wide, your pussy—”

  No, she wasn’t listening to this anymore. She managed to force out, “I’m—I’m your cousin’s wife.”

  “He doesn’t have to know.” He shrugged. “We can meet when he’s out on location shooting—”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying.” She couldn’t believe she was hearing this. From Adam no less, a man she respected, who possessed a talent she admired. That he would betray his cousin like this was unthinkable and made him sink in her estimation of him.

  “I do. Really I do.” He reached to take her hand, but she snatched it away. He shrugged, then started to undo his belt.

  No, no, no.

  She couldn’t help it. She watched in morbid fascination as he unbuttoned his trousers and pushed them down his hips, together with his underwear, if he wore any. His cock sprang out, erect and engorged, long and thick and beautiful.

  He grasped it in one hand and stroked. “I want to fuck you, Carly, and this is the proof. This erection is for you.”

  She moaned.

  Chapter Four

  “Do you want to fuck me, too?”

  She moaned again, and this time, she could make out what she was saying.

  No.

  At the same time, fury surged up within her. “How dare you.” She slapped him on the cheek. Her hand stung, but seeing her handprint on his cheek gave her a savage satisfaction she’d never felt before. “I’m Derek’s wife, and I won’t betray him. If you value your friendship with him, you’ll stop this now and promise not to repeat it, and I won’t tell him. But if you don’t…”

  The damn man looked unconcerned. He stepped out of his pants, grinning. Naked except for his shirt and socks, he was breathtaking. “I knew there’s a reason I like you.”

  “Well, I’m finding I don’t like you very much!” she hurled at him, cheeks flaming red. No matter how hard she tried, she found her gaze going south, drawn by his beautiful hard length.

  “You’ll change your mind soon enough,” he informed her cheerfully. “You’ll even beg me to fuck you.”

  “Never!”

  “Never say never,” he chided. “I won’t take that against you, since you don’t know yet what it’s like to be fucked by the ‘great fuck machi
ne Adam Fortune’.”

  If she weren’t so incensed, she’d have sputtered with laughter over his arrogance. The moniker was one the models gave him for his prowess in bed; it was rumored that he fucked all the models he shot. Or so she’d heard.

  “Put your clothes back on or—”

  “Or what?” he countered. He placed his hands at the hem of his T-shirt, took it off and let it sail—

  To land on the face of the person who was coming through the kitchen door just then.

  “What’s going on in here?”

  Derek.

  Her heart lurched, panic setting in. She knew what the situation looked like, and it was very damning. Only Adam was out of his clothes, but she’d been in here with him a long time. Why, oh why, didn’t she leave him be? She should’ve gone out the moment he took out his cock.

  She flew to her husband, just as he threw the shirt to the floor. “Derek, this isn’t what it looks like.” The words rushed out of her. “I was convincing Adam to put his clothes back on—”

  “What?” The whisper that came out was deadly soft and stopped her torrent of words.

  She gulped. She wanted to touch him, but she didn’t know if he’d fling her hand away, and she couldn’t take that. Her hand, lifted midway, fell back to her side. Despairing, she knew the only conclusion he would make. Any hope she had of repairing her marriage washed down the drain, just like that. Tears threatened, but she’d be damned if she let them fall. She didn’t do anything wrong.

  Her chin lifted, to find Derek looking from her to Adam and back again. His face was so dark and stern, wearing an expression she’d never seen before, and it struck fear into her heart. But that was before she saw the bleakness in his eyes.

  “I came in to find out what’s taking you both so long to walk into this—this—” Derek drew a distracted hand down his hair. “Will someone tell me what’s happened?”

  Carly wanted to speak, to try to explain the situation before Adam could dig them further into the hole, but Derek continued, “Adam? Do you mind telling me why you’re naked in my kitchen? This wasn’t part of the plan.”