by Eve Langlais
The glass of whiskey hit the desk. He stood and wasn’t even aware of moving until he’d swept her into his arms.
Still, he hesitated. “Are you sure? I might be a pauper by tomorrow, with nothing to give.”
“Don’t you get it yet? I don’t care about the money. I just want you. Don’t you want me?” The fear he would reject her again quavered in the words.
Like fuck. He might not have an inheritance, but he couldn’t turn her away. He was too selfish for that. Bryce wanted Melanie. They’d make it work.
He swept her into his arms, dipping his head until he could slant his mouth across hers. Her breath caught, and he inhaled the small sound as he kept kissing, plastering her body against his, lifting her off the floor to bring her closer. With a sound of pleasure, her lips parted, allowing him to fully taste her. Their tongues twined, and her hands crept to grip his shoulders.
He moved until her ass hit the edge of his desk. Papers and pens went crashing to the floor as he swept it clear. He parked her on it and pushed his body between her legs, never letting his lips lose contact with hers.
With her perched, he could now easily stroke her body, his callused hands skimming her soft skin, drawing murmurs of excitement and shivers.
His fingers threaded her hair and tugged her head back, exposing her throat. First, though, he let his lips travel to the shell of her ear where he whispered, “You’re mine, kitten.”
“For how long?” she replied just as softly.
“Forever,” was his growl before he tugged at her lobe with his teeth.
A groan rolled out of her, and he rumbled in reply. She responded so well to his touch. Shivering and moaning with everything he did.
He bent her back and let his lips burn a path from her ear to her neck then lower still to the valley between her breasts, a gorgeous handful hidden by her bra. The clasp between them gave easily and parted, displaying her perfection.
With one hand, he cupped the soft peach. His thumb brushed over the peak, and it puckered. How tempting.
He didn’t resist. He sucked her nipple and part of her breast into his mouth, suctioning and tugging while soft mewls of pleasure panted past her lips.
There was no doubt she enjoyed it. The musky aroma of her arousal surrounded him. The heat in her body rose. And she shivered, shivered and trembled and moaned at his touch.
A nip of her nipple caused a louder moan, and the guttural sound made him fucking hard.
He just wanted to sink into her. To fuck her until she screamed his name.
But he couldn’t. Not yet. This was her first time. A moment she would always remember, and he had to make it good.
He had to make it epic.
As his hands skimmed over her body, his mouth returned to capture her lips. She wasn’t shy and hesitant now. She clung to him fiercely, sucking his tongue, her fingers dancing along his skin.
She’d changed from her track pants to a skirt, a loose one that rose easily up her thighs until he encountered the edge of her panties. His fingers dipped around the edge, and she froze.
He froze as well. He didn’t say anything, just waited.
Waited for permission.
“Don’t stop.”
He almost came at her reply. Instead, though, he knelt between her legs, her position on the desk the perfect height for what he had in mind. He tugged at her panties, dragging them down until they fell to the floor.
The scent of her was like a drug, making him throb with need. Hunger for a taste. Yet despite his eagerness, he remained in control, aware this was new for her. He began by teasing her, rubbing the bristled edge of his jaw along the silken skin of her inner thigh.
She gasped.
Again he rubbed, this time on the other side.
Another noise escaped her, and a fine tremor shook her body.
He blew warmly against her sex, and she moaned. “Please.”
A simple word that meant everything.
He latched onto her sex with a suddenness that made her whole body arch. “Bryce!” His name emerged from her lips, part surprise, mostly pleasure.
And then she could only moan as he licked her. Licked and lapped at her sex, spreading her silken lips to truly taste her honey.
Sweeter even than maple syrup.
After a bit of licking, he moved to her pleasure nub, gripping it with his lips, giving it a tug.
That earned him a scream, and her fingers gripped his hair painfully.
Perfectly.
She was close now. So close.
He flicked her clit with his tongue, back and forth, lashing her with it, feeling her body tighten, coiling with pleasure.
Then, he penetrated her with a finger, two of them to the knuckle.
She was fucking tight and hot.
And pure. He noted the membrane but didn’t push past it. Just let his fingers pump in and out as his tongue worked her until she came.
She came hard, her whole body frozen in a bowed arc, her mouth open wide but soundless.
A powerful climax that took a moment before it ripped a loud scream from her. The mouth of her sex spasmed around his fingers, and his cock throbbed.
How good would that feel wrapped around him?
He couldn’t wait to find out, and yet as he stood, ready for the next round of seduction, he stopped.
Something’s not right.
The wild side of Bryce recognized the danger before he did. Smelled the smoke. Fresh smoke, not the residual sooty traces.
Melanie, her eyes still heavy with passion, confirmed it a second later. “I think the place is on fire.”
Chapter 20
Melanie almost screamed! Not true. She did scream, in pleasure, but now she wanted to do it again, this time in frustration. So close to finally losing her damnable cherry, yet once again, fate intervened.
Smoke curled under the seam of the door, and she was all too aware they were on the second floor—with only one set of stairs out of here.
She popped off the desk, her skirt falling down to cover her lower body. Her bra hung over her shoulder still. She fumbled together the clasp as Bryce dared to open the door and peek outside.
He cursed. “Fuck me. The place is on fire again.”
Slam. The door shut, and he whirled to face her. “We won’t be getting out that way.”
The bottom of her stomach fell out. “Can we leave through the window?” It seemed large enough, but the second-story jump, a jump forty feet in the air given the factory’s first level needed room, meant a far fall.
“We can, but it will hurt.”
“What are we going to do?” They couldn’t take long to decide. The fire would spread quickly.
For a moment, Bryce eyed the bottle of whiskey, to the point she thought she’d have to explain why fire and alcohol didn’t mix.
He turned from it, and his expression brightened. “There’s a bathroom up here.”
“How does that help us?” She did have to pee but didn’t see how that would prove useful.
“I need to borrow your shirt.” Before she replied, he snared it off the floor and stripped his own off before entering the room to the side, and he emerged with both of them a moment later, sopping wet.
“Go and soak your skirt,” he advised.
Rather than waste breath and time asking why, she trusted in him having a plan and did as he asked, lifting the hem and spraying herself as well as she could.
When she returned, he held out the wet shirt. “Hold this over your nose and mouth. It will filter most of the smoke. We need to move fast.”
So he claimed, yet he went into the bathroom once more, and she heard banging.
Clang. Clang. Whoosh.
Water sprayed out from the doorway as he emerged, wet looking and grim. The broken pipe soon shot liquid across the floor. It didn’t seem enough to help, but then again, who knew? They could use any aid at this point.
“Ready?” He laced his hand in hers before the door.
No
. She nodded.
He opened it, and a wave of smoke hit her in the face. The shirt over her mouth prevented her from sucking in a lungful, but her eyes stung.
Good thing Bryce held on to her because she could see nothing in the smoky haze filling the air. He knew where to go, though, and when she stumbled on the first step, he lifted her into his arms and carried her down.
She tucked her face against him, ignoring the crackle of the fire, the sting of the smoke, the terror making her heart beat too fast.
She heard an odd sizzling sound and found it less than reassuring that the water pouring down from above was turning into steam.
Bryce kept his stride steady and only cursed once when the heat licked at them unbearably. No need for waxing. The hair on her arms and legs disintegrated.
The nightmare inferno seemed like it would last forever. The heat dried out her skin, and the wet cloth grew warm. Suddenly, fresh air hit her skin, and she opened her burning eyes to see they’d made it outside. Stars twinkled above. The smell of smoke combined with that of a nearby forest, and diesel fumes. Parking lots tended to retain a certain scent.
Opening her eyes, she saw a few tanker-type vehicles. Maple syrup by the ton. Her feet hit the ground, and yet Bryce kept his arm around her. His body tensed. He also didn’t move despite the heat pouring at their backs.
“We aren’t alone,” he murmured.
She turned her head quickly and noted someone on the edge of the pavement. Standing by a little red sports car, a pack of wolves by his side. The same wolves as the forest, the ones who attacked her.
“Isn’t that Rory?” she said.
“It is.” Bryce looked peeved.
Rory took a few strides forward, thumbs tucked in the loops of his jeans. “Imagine meeting you here.”
“Yeah, imagine that, especially given the factory is closed. Which means you and your buddies are trespassing.”
Rory held up his hands. “Getting a little hostile there, aren’t you? We were just passing through.”
“The same way you were passing through the woods when your pals accosted Melanie?”
For a moment Rory looked surprised. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit. Your thugs attacked her in the forest.”
Rory turned to look at his pack and for a moment, just a moment, Melanie could have sworn he seemed angry. But it passed and he shrugged. “I’m sure they were just playing with her.”
“The same way they played with matches and set the factory on fire?” Bryce jabbed a finger behind them at the burning building.
“You can’t prove it.”
“Actually, I’ll bet the surveillance footage will.”
“Doesn’t matter what it shows. This is my heritage.”
Bryce stiffened. “The factory isn’t yours yet.”
“But it will be. I am, after all, Theo’s son.” Spoken with a sneer.
“I don’t care what the tests say. No son of Theo would kill someone in cold blood.” Or burn down a maple syrup factory. The horror of it.
For a moment, Rory’s face took on a troubled expression, a look quickly washed away. “The factory was supposed to be empty.”
“Guess again, asshole. You almost killed us both.”
“Almost. But look at you, still the luckiest bastard alive.” Rory said, his disgruntlement clear.
“Why are you burning it down?” Melanie’s soft question entered the tension filled air.
Rory shrugged. “Because I can.”
“You’re fucking insane,” Bryce exclaimed.
“Not insane, angry.” The voice, unexpected in this place and moment, emerged from the shadows a moment before the old man did. Bryce’s grandfather, Theo, casually dressed and his expression sad spoke. “I guess your mother told you. You know the truth.”
“Yeah, she spoke to me. Told me that you loved this damned factory more than her.” Said belligerently.
“It was more complicated than that,” Theo said. “We were both married. My daughter needed me.”
“My mother needed you. Do you have any idea of how my father treated her? Ignoring her. Acting so fucking cold. And I never knew why. Never even guessed until she finally told me a few weeks ago. You seduced her and then left her. You left her pregnant with your baby to face my father.”
“I never knew about the pregnancy.”
Rory snorted. “As if you couldn’t guess when I came along nine months later.”
“I swear, I never knew, or I would have done something.”
“Sure you would have.” The sarcasm dripped richly from his words. “Well, guess what, daddy dear. Not all of us are pussies when it comes to acting, and some of us don’t think factories are more valuable than people.” Rory swept a hand at the raging inferno. “This is what I think of your legacy. Soon to be my legacy. When I take over the company, I’m going to dismantle every single one of them.”
“Who says you’ll take over?” Theo asked the question, and Bryce stiffened.
“It’s already happening. Or hadn’t you heard about the hostile takeover?”
“You don’t have enough shares,” Theo proclaimed.
“Not yet. But I will. As soon as you die, this will be mine.”
“Not according to my will,” Theo announced.
But Rory wasn’t daunted. “I’ll contest your will as your most direct living heir.”
“Except I’m not dying.” Theo stood tall.
“Are you sure of that? A man your age doesn’t need much to suffer a heart attack or worse.” Rory didn’t say a word, and yet the wolves at his side leapt forward. If they thought they would have an easy task of taking down an old man, they were mistaken.
Melanie could only watch as Theo turned into a grayer version of Bryce. His rack extended magnificently, the body showing signs of age, but still lean and strong. Theo, the moose, bent his mighty rack and tossed the wolves. However, there were three, all trying to converge in different directions.
A wild bellow from behind. and a second later another moose galloped past, joining the battle, the pair of them making short work of the snarling canines, sending them howling into the woods.
Rory, his face full of rage—and hurt—shook his fist at them. “This isn’t over.” He jumped into his car and took off in a squeal of tires.
As his taillights winked out of sight, the sound of sirens filled the air with a mighty wail. She waved her hands at the moose. They’d never have time to change and find clothes.
“Go. Shoo. I got this.”
The sirens grew louder, and Bryce trotted close. He knelt down, offering her his back.
She could only hope a video of her riding Bryce wouldn’t surface on the internet. While not a knight on a white stallion galloping away, he had rescued her while the factory burned bright behind them.
Chapter 21
Bryce made it back to the mansion, and they were all clean and Theo was in bed and looking pale when the cops arrived.
Pretending ignorance, his grandfather answered the questions. Mainly, did Theo know where Rory had gone?
Apparently, there was security footage of him breaking into the factory before the fire started and disrupted the feed. In spite of the evidence, Grandfather refused to see him charged with arson.
“The boy deserves his anger,” Theo explained once the officers left.
Bryce couldn’t help a curl of his lip. “Because he’s your son.”
“He is, and at the same time, he isn’t.” Theo sighed. “He might carry some of my genes, but we never had that chance to bond. He calls another father. Which is why you’ll still be my main heir.”
“What?” Bryce thought he’d misunderstood. Could soot make a man deaf?
“I’m not stupid. I know all the hard work you’ve put into this place. All the sweat. It wouldn’t be right to leave it to a stranger, even if he is my blood. That doesn’t mean I’ll leave Rory in the cold, but the company is yours, if you still want it.”
A man who’d gone to the best schools, Bryce managed an eloquent, “Duh.”
“Then I guess that’s settled. Which means you don’t have to keep pretending with the girl. I know your relationship is a sham.”
Bryce narrowed his gaze. “What happened to ‘I’m dying, you need to produce an heir?’”
A shrug rolled the old man’s shoulders. “I might have exaggerated a little. Which means you can call it off. I won’t force you.”
Bryce felt more than saw Melanie stiffen. After all they’d been through, she needed to understand something. “What if I want to stay with her?” She gasped. He turned to face her fully. “Our relationship might have started out under false pretenses, but I love you, kitten. I want to be with you.”
“Really?” she exclaimed softly.
“Yes, really. You’re the one for me, kitten.” Not exactly how he’d imagined announcing it, with his grandfather looking on, and his bed on the other side of the house.
Clap. “This is excellent news,” his grandfather declared. “When’s the wedding?”
“Right now, unless he’d rather die for defiling my daughter.” A certain grizzled lynx stalked into the room ahead of the disheveled butler.
“Daddy? What are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t find you so I went looking. Heard there was trouble at the factory so checked there first. When I caught your scent but didn’t see you, I figured you’d be here with him.” Said with a curled lip. “Care to explain what happened to your clothes?” The pointed glare at her oversized shirt—not her own—had her blushing.
Bryce stepped in front of her. “My intentions toward her are honest.”
“Good. That means you won’t mind making it legal, too. Have I mentioned that I’m certified by the good ol’ Internet to perform marriages? So where do you want to get this done?” Kieran pinned him with a golden gaze.