Play-Mate_A Taboo Stepbrother Romance
Page 12
“How are my girls this morning?” He kissed me on the cheek and I closed my eyes as I leaned into him as I watched the boys play in the floor and with a smile, I turned to him and said,
“Perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
THE END
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Introduction
Tori was living the life as one of the most successful investors in the city when she is presented with evidence that she is in danger. With nobody else to turn to for help, she enlists her wealthy and powerful stepbrother, Easton to help her make sense of her dilemma. Being whisked away to his luxurious mountain retreat seemed to be the best thing for her until she finds herself in his arms and suddenly confused as to what it means for their family, who must never find out about them. Danger looms, even in the safety of the wilderness and soon Tori is faced with the hard truth that she was never as safe as she suspected and doesn’t know who to trust or where to turn. Can she get out of the danger that has been thrust upon her or is she in too deep? Will her feelings for her stepbrother get in the way of doing what’s right or can she find the strength to persevere in the face of danger?
Chapter One
Getting what he wanted had always come easily to Easton Kaine and that wasn’t about to stop now that he’d reached the top. Growing ever more confident in his abilities to talk anyone into anything he desired, Easton smiled his charming grin to a man who was about to hand over his life’s work to a man with whom he’d only had a few conversations. The prospect of the returns that Kaine was promising had tantalized the eager young man so much that he had already decided that her first purchase would be a Ferrari. Easton Kaine was the top investor in New York and his firm had climbed to the head of its field in the few short years in which Kaine was at the helm. He ran the business like a well-oiled machine and there wasn’t a detail about which he was not aware. He’d made billions since he began his trek up the corporate ladder and as he smugly sat across from Jacob Billingsly, he calmly waited for the signature that would transfer ownership of a promising, yet fledgling, under-developed and ill-funded business. Within a six-month period under his leadership, Easton Kaine had no doubt that he could turn it into a thriving location.
“You’re making the right decision, Jake. With what we’re paying for this place, you can buy one just like it and finally afford to take the wife on that cruise. Am I right?” Smiling across the table as the contract was placed into a folder and slid across towards the middle, the two men shook hands and Jacob chuckled as he thought of how he would start over in a city that was less-competitive. New York wasn’t for him and his family and when the representative of Kaine and Shaw approached him with an interest to buy, he simply couldn’t refuse.
Standing almost three inches over six foot, Easton Kaine had always demanded the attention of the room. He was the man that all men wanted to be and all women wanted to be near and he knew it. There was an arrogance in his demeanor that couldn’t be denied but he felt it was well-deserved, given the fact that there were more zeroes in his bank account than his morning cheerios. He thought of himself as likeable and many would agree, though he was certain he’d probably made some enemies in the past. He worked hard to get where he was and there was no way that Easton would let something like good manners keep him from advancing. If it was time to be a dick and the situation called for a real badass, Easton Kaine was always called in to handle matters. There was a no-nonsense approach that he’d perfected over the years and he’d honed it into a valuable tool. He didn’t care if your mortgage was due or you couldn’t pay your kid’s tuition. It didn’t bother him a bit to practically steal your business away from you if you couldn’t meet your end of an agreement. Going into business with Kaine usually meant working for Kaine and he always made sure that he would reign supreme, no matter what. He was no fool and his savvy business sense had gotten him far in life and those who were close with him often wondered if there was a more formidable side to the finance mogul.
“I heard that he has ties with the mafia,” had been heard during water cooler chit-chat over the years but his favorite was that he was secretly a drug kingpin. Never disputing any rumor that he heard was merely a way to keep everyone on their toes and ensure the highest quality work from his employees, for nobody in their right mind would skim from a drug kingpin with ties to the mafia.
Returning home to his trophy wife was never his favorite part of the day because he knew as soon as he walked into the lavish home which he provided, she would begin one of her rants about how nothing was ever good enough. When he asked the Miss New York runner-up to be his bride, he had no idea that she could speak as much as she did. She woke up with her trap running and he was pretty sure that she talked to herself most of the day. There was no doubt in his mind that she was addicted to some sort of prescription medication but he didn’t bother finding out which one. It really didn’t concern him if she was popping nerve pills, pain pills or whatever her preference, as long as she stayed out of his hair. He just hoped that one day he would walk in and find her dead from an overdose one day so she wouldn’t be able to nag him incessantly any longer.
“I told you I wanted white marble countertops but look at this! These are eggshell! Eggshell, Easton! We might as well hang a big sign that says we have no taste and hate matching because the floor is clearly white. I can’t believe that the idiot contractor could have made this kind of mistake.” She went on and on about their latest renovation, which had taken weeks and he was glad was finally complete. The detail as to the faint discoloration of what looked white enough for him was today’s tragedy and he was almost certain that she already had white marble countertops ordered.
“Where were you while he was destroying your kitchen?” Easton asked as he poured himself a bourbon. Whitney huffed and placed her hands on her hips as she replied,
“For your information, I was at the spa then I had to go get my nails done because manicures don’t just happen, Easton. My hair appointment was this afternoon and by the time I got Tilly groomed, it was too late. I came home and as soon as I walked through the kitchen, I thought I would have an aneurysm.”
Taking a sip of his two thousand dollar a bottle booze, he calmly replied,
“You really don’t think that’s how aneurysms are caused, do you?” He often wondered if he ever saw anything other than her breasts before they were married because he knew that he must have blocked out the fact that she was a complete airhead to buy her a ring.
“Whatever, Easton. What I’m saying is that I was really upset because the idiots can’t tell the difference between white and eggshell.” Personally, Easton couldn’t tell the difference between white and eggshell but he didn’t want to rouse the hornet nest any further.
“Why don’t you call another contractor and have someone come give you white countertops? While you’re at it, I think we could use a larger garage so have them factor in an addition to the estimate, as well. I think I want a Rover.”
Whitney gave him a disapproving glare and replied that he didn’t need a Rover since he already had two SUVs and three motorcycles. He’d been riding since he was a kid on a dirt bike a
nd he couldn’t explain the sense of freedom he felt when he was on the back of his steel horse. When she suggested that he just sell his bikes to make room for his new toy, he couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself.
“First things first, sweetheart, it’s my money that pays for everything here. Your spa days and dog perms and the damn nails; all of it. Those are my nails and as far as I’m concerned that’s my fucking dog and if you really want to know the truth, you belong to me too. I’ll do what I want with my money and I really don’t need to ask your permission before getting myself a new car. Now, dear, I think the best thing for you to do is call whomever you would like and get yourself some white countertops and have them add on to the fucking garage. OK?” She feigned a pout, as she often did when he had to put her in her place and as always, he outstretched his arms to her and pulled her in for an embrace.
“What do you say we book a trip somewhere warm?” He took another sip and he saw her begin to jump up and down as she gaily clapped her hands. Whitney was so childlike and simple to control; it was almost too easy. She gave him no challenge whatsoever and boring was only the first word that came to mind when he thought of spending time with his beautiful wife. It was almost as if for every ounce of beauty she’d been given, that much of her intellect had been stripped. It was rude for a man to call his wife a money grubbing, piece of shit moron so he never went beyond thinking it to himself.
“Does that make you happy? Does spending my money make you happy, baby?” She walked to him and placed her head on his chest as he placed his arm around her shoulder. Smiling, Whitney put her hand on his ass and whispered into his ear that she wanted to go upstairs. If there was one thing that Whitney did spectacularly well, it was screw. Her body was as close to perfect as one could get without too much surgery and though her tits were paid for, the tight ass and toned body was all Whit.
“Take that little ass up those stairs before I spank it,” he said as he popped her playfully on the backside. Giggling and almost ruining his mood, Whitney did as she was told and he could finally take a breath. As Easton finished his bourbon, he thought of how much money he’d made today and that helped rejuvenate any loss that had incurred from the giggling spouse. He could use a good roll with the wife after such a good day at work and while he strolled up the stairs, Easton began loosening his tie. The things he was about to do to Whitney would be considered illegal in at least seventeen states and he had special plans for the accessory garment.
The following morning, Whitney sat in her robe as she drank coffee in the sunroom and Easton stared at her as he stood in the entryway. He couldn’t deny that his wife was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, regardless of how bothersome she’d become. If he could simply stare at her from afar, they would have the perfect marriage.
“I forgot to tell you that your father called yesterday.” She continued drinking her coffee and Easton inquired,
“Is there anything else or did he just call to say hi to you?” Whitney looked at him in a way that reminded him of a confused puppy and as she straightened her cocked head, she replied,
“Why would he just call to say hi to me? He’s your father, Easton. I swear you don’t make sense to me sometimes.” Growing frustrated but trying to remain calm, he said,
“Yes, dear, I know, which is why I asked if there was anything else.” In his mind, “You vapid twat” followed his statement but he kept that part to himself as he took a deep breath.
“He’s coming to the city next week with Margaret and they want to see you. He wanted you to get in contact with Tori and pick out a place to eat.” He sat beside her and placed his hand on her knee as he thanked her for relaying the message.
“I’ve been meaning to call Tori, anyway. This is almost too perfect.” Turning her head, Whit asked,
“What’s perfect?” Smiling, Easton replied,
“You are, my love. You are.”