Duke of Manhattan

by Louise Bay

  He was right. I’d been on edge all day—a symptom of not having him inside me for longer than it should have been. If I couldn’t survive a day without him physically, what did that mean for me? And if he felt the same way, did that mean something more? Or was it just physical, just sex?

  “I’m going to fuck you again. Nothing between us. Just my skin against yours. And you’re going to come again and again because you need to understand what you’re missing when you don’t sleep in my bed. When you try to avoid me.”

  A strangled vowel left the back of my throat. I knew exactly what I’d been missing, that was why I’d avoided him. Didn’t he get that?

  He gripped the top of my thigh, tracing his thumb across the juncture between my legs, rubbing the mixture of my wetness and his come into my skin like he was emphasizing his point. It was as if he was trying to mark my skin with us.

  Without further warning, he pushed into me and I cried out. I never got used to the size of him, despite it only having been minutes since he was last inside me. “See how I fill you up? Nothing else can do that. No one else. Only me.”

  He grunted, stroked his hand over my belly and around my waist, pulled out and thrust sharply again. The hint of pain intensified the pleasure and I knew this was unmistakably us. It was how we fit together. No man would ever make me feel like this again. So possessed.

  He dug his hand into my waist, the other one curling around my shoulder. I closed my eyes in a long blink. I knew the next thrust from him would be the deepest yet. He pushed sharply into me, and I started to unwind.

  Ryder knew my body well enough now to read every sign. I could hide nothing from him when we fucked.

  “See how quickly you come? How fast I make you come?”

  I couldn’t react or respond. I had no control over my body or mind. It was all his.

  I shuddered as my climax rushed over me; the drumming in my ears reached a crescendo, every part of me dissolving, my whole body trying to float off the bed.

  The next thing I was aware of was Ryder chanting “So beautiful. So beautiful” while rocking in and out of me.

  I smoothed my hand up his arm and gazed at him—the edges of his hair were damp with sweat and his broad, rounded shoulders glowed as if he had just finished a workout.

  “Flip onto your stomach,” he said, pulling out of me.

  I tensed. What did he have in mind? I’d had his finger and thumb inside my ass. I’d never experimented with any anal play with my ex, but with Ryder there was no saying no and I found I liked it.

  He turned me over and dragged me back toward him so my legs hit the floor. “I know you can’t stand, baby, but I need to be in that ass of yours.”

  I gasped. And I flung one hand back, covering my bottom. A finger was one thing. His dick was quite another.

  “You’re so wet, baby; it’s going to feel so good.” He delved inside me with his fingers and as if to prove his point, began to lubricate my ass. “So, so wet.”

  Normally he circled and stroked my ass, relaxing me until I was almost begging for his fingers. But today he was impatient and his thumb pressed through the circle of muscles before I expected them to. I moaned into the mattress. How could I still feel this turned on despite coming twice?

  “Oh yes, you’re getting good at this, aren’t you?” He thrust his cock into my pussy, complementing his thumb above. “You want more.” It wasn’t a question.

  His cock stayed buried inside me but his thumb was quickly replaced by two fingers nudging at the muscles. I gripped the bedding. Could I handle this?

  “You’re doing good. So good,” he said and I took a breath at the same time as the thrusts increased in pace.

  He waited just a second before he began to rock his fingers and cock in and out of me. It was too much, too good, too full.

  Pinned to the bed by the sensation, I couldn’t move. I was exhausted but my orgasm wasn’t far away. It was almost as if I were having hundreds of tiny climaxes that were building and building into something—I didn’t know what.

  Ryder’s thrusts jolted into me and I knew he was close. His movements became less controlled, his voice tighter and louder.

  “So tight. So smooth. So good,” he growled.

  My body began to clench as my climax took over and Ryder cried out, folding over my back, his breath hot on my neck as we came together, floating, grasping. Joined. I’d never felt so much like an us.

  Twenty-Four

  Scarlett

  “So dinner on Tuesday?” Violet asked from the other end of the phone. I had her on speaker as I scanned my emails that had built up during my morning full of meetings about Cecily Fragrance’s new store opening in Southampton. “I’m not taking no for an answer. I don’t see you enough.”

  I thought back. In the three months since Ryder and I had returned from England, I hadn’t really gone out with my friends. And I couldn’t remember him ever going out with his friends without me. Ryder and I liked hanging out together.

  “Sure. Come over and I’ll cook,” I replied and she groaned. I stopped what I was doing and stared at the receiver. What was her problem?

  “You’re so boring. I was going to get Harper to come out and Grace, too. I thought we could have a few shots and a little fun. I’ve been over to your place every time I’ve seen you for months.”

  “Sorry, I’ve just been so busy at work; it’s just nice to be at home in the evenings.”

  Home. After my night in the guest room, he’d dismantled the bed. He’d never made me feel like I was a guest. When I’d mentioned his couch was too hard, we’d gone shopping for a new one that weekend. I don’t think he even noticed when I rearranged his kitchen and he told me how much he liked the flowers I bought each week. There was never a moment I felt awkward or uncomfortable there.

  Violet sighed. “Maybe if you weren’t up fucking all night, you could manage a night out with your sister. Even Harper was saying she missed you.”

  Maybe I had been neglecting my family in favor of my husband. “I’m not up all night fucking.” Just part of the night. Every night. And mornings, too. When it was as good as it was between Ryder and me, why wouldn’t we want to spend our time together? It felt real—a relationship, a friendship, a partnership. And I resolved that while it did, I’d go with it. “There’s just a lot going on in the business. But a girls’ night sounds good.” I could always get home before Ryder went to bed. That way, I’d still see him, even if it was for a short while.

  “Great. I’ll speak to Harper and Grace. I need a bit of bonding time without men.”

  “Well, I’m always up for girl time. You know that.”

  “You could have fooled me,” she said. “But I’ll set something up. There’s a great new hipster place in the East Village we should try.”

  I groaned. “You know that the three of us are hardly the hipster type.”

  “And I keep telling you, you need to expand your horizons. You never know, we might find your next husband there.”

  Next husband? “You make it sound like I’m a praying mantis.”

  Her tut echoed down the phone. “I just mean that when your thing with Ryder is over, you might want to change things up a bit. A hipster’s an option.”

  It had been three months, and I’d promised Ryder three years. Violet was jumping the gun, but I wasn’t about to rain on her parade. “I’m not sure hipsters will ever be my type, even if I’m on my ninth husband, but it’s not me you’ll have to convince. I’m pretty sure Harper will want to go to somewhere uber-glam.” Frankly, if I was going to spend the evening without Ryder, I wanted to make sure it was somewhere nice, but I’d let Harper take the fall for this one. I knew she’d be happy to.

  “Well, it’s my party, so I’m picking the place. Does Tuesday work?”

  As long as it wasn’t Friday. Friday nights in with Ryder were my favorite nights of the week. I couldn’t remember how it started but it had become a ritual that we’d start the evening with a bath and
a classic movie in bed with popcorn, which inevitably led to sex. Then we often ate grilled cheese in our robes and flipped through the channels while talking about work, family and books and then, eventually, we had more sex. “I think I might be busy on Friday but otherwise …”

  “Okay, any day other than Friday. I’ll arrange. Gotta go.”

  As soon as Violet hung up, my desk phone buzzed again.

  “Your gorgeous husband just arrived. Again,” my receptionist said over the speakerphone. I grinned. Ryder made it to lunch at my place a couple of times a week. I wasn’t quite sure how he managed it, but there was always a “reason” for his visit. A meeting in the area, or his banker had just canceled on him. I liked that he felt he needed to explain his appearance to me. It was as if he wasn’t sure I’d want to see him if he didn’t have an excuse.

  “Thanks. Send him back.” Usually he just wandered through, so I wasn’t sure why he’d stopped at reception.

  “He’s on his way. I just had to call you to tell you how lucky you are.” No one but Cecily knew about my arrangement with Ryder, and Gail in particular was taken in by our story of a whirlwind romance. I could see how it would be easy to fall for. I couldn’t imagine most husbands were attentive enough to have lunch with their wives a couple of days each week.

  He appeared at the door to my office, grinning and holding up a white paper bag, which presumably contained our lunch. “That meeting with Bob got canceled, so I thought I’d grab a bite with you if you’re not busy.”

  I beckoned him forward with the tilt of my head and the curl of my hand. I was never too busy to see him.

  “We never lunch in your office,” I said, unpacking the containers from the paper bag.

  “That’s because you never stop by.”

  True. Since the night of Frederick’s visit, things had evened out between us. I’d relaxed. Stopped asking if I’d given too much of myself away. I’d tried to live in the moment and enjoy our time together, however short. Because it was more of a marriage in many ways than I’d ever had the first time around. “You’re always welcome.”

  He grinned and I smiled back. I avoided his office. I was pretty sure there were plenty of women who had seen him naked there. From what he’d told me in the three months since we’d come back from England, he’d been quite the player. I never asked him if he’d been faithful to me since our wedding. If he hadn’t, I didn’t want to know. But I was pretty sure he’d only been with me. But he didn’t get much opportunity to sleep with other women. We spent most of our time outside working hours together.

  “John wants me to go to some shitty gala dinner next week,” Ryder said as he took a seat on the other side of my desk.

  Despite having seen each other this morning. Fucked. Shared our mood. Talked, drunk coffee together. Even though, tonight, we’d fuck, talk, eat dinner together. There was always more to talk about. More to say.

  “Like a benefit or something?” I asked. Ryder didn’t trust a lot of people but John was an exception.

  “An awards ceremony. Waste of bloody time if you ask me, but he’s convinced I need to be seen at these things.”

  I opened up the boxes of food. Thai. Nice. “Well, it’s just an evening. What can it hurt? You can always sneak out after the main course.”

  “You’ll come though, right?” He handed me a paper napkin wrapped around a plastic knife and fork. “You’ll make it bearable.”

  My heart squeezed and I glanced at him. He must have felt my eyes on him because he looked up and smiled. What he’d said was not meant to have any particular meaning attached to it, but to me it showed me how much we were a team, a unit—a couple. Did he see it, too? Wasn’t this more than just an arrangement? Surely if this was just business, he wouldn’t be sitting across from me. But we never talked about us. Never discussed our three-year deal. We were only a few months in but I was at the point where I didn’t want to put a time limit on us.

  I wanted to know if he felt the same.

  “Sure,” I said, poking my fork into the box of Thai food I’d opened. I liked the idea that a work event would only be manageable if I was with him. “There’s no place I’d rather be.”

  “There’s no place I’d rather have you.” His eyebrows darted up. Ryder was able to make anything sound dirty.

  “I’m serious,” I said. “I like spending time with you.”

  He paused, his fork hovering over the paper container. “I like spending time with you, too.”

  “I mean, even without …” I circled my hand in the air, not wanting to be too serious but at the same time wanting him to understand what I was trying to say without having to actually say the words. “You know. The deal. I still like it.” Christ, I sounded like a thirteen-year-old girl with a crush on her brother’s best friend. I rolled my eyes at my pathetic attempt at sharing my feelings and the corner of Ryder’s mouth began to twitch. This was his chance to say something.

  The beginning of Ryder’s smile was interrupted by his phone vibrating on the desk between us. Darcy’s name flashed up on the screen. I took a forkful of food.

  “Do you mind?” he asked.

  I shook my head, my mouth full of Thai noodles.

  “Hey, Darce, what’s up?”

  I couldn’t hear her, but I could tell Darcy was speaking really fast. Ryder’s face fell and he stood. Under his suit I could see every muscle tense as he closed his eyes.

  “Yeah, we’ll get there as soon as we can.”

  I dropped my fork. Something had happened. Something bad.

  Ryder took a breath and hung up the phone. “We have to go,” he said, glancing around as if looking for something.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked, my heart pounding.

  “Can you come?”

  “Yes, anywhere.” I didn’t need to know what had happened—I would go wherever Ryder asked me.

  I gathered up my phone, tablet and bag as Ryder punched numbers into his cell. “I need the plane to go to England as fast as possible.” England? Something had happened to Darcy or to the duke.

  He hung up and we headed out. I’d message Cecily when we were in the car. I didn’t want to waste time. Ryder needed me.

  As we stood in the elevator to take us down to Ryder’s car, I slid my hand into his and squeezed. “Grandfather’s had a stroke,” he whispered, his voice so low I almost couldn’t hear. “He’s at the hospital.”

  I squeezed his hand again and leaned across and lay a kiss on his shoulder.

  Twenty-Five

  Ryder

  The practicalities of death somehow seemed to help me cope with losing my grandfather. That and having Scarlett by my side. We’d barely spent a moment apart since landing to the news that my grandfather had passed away.

  I sat back in the green leather chair at my grandfather’s desk. I used to sneak into this office when I was a kid and climb up on this chair, pretending I was just like him. I’d known even then that if I became half the man he was, I’d be okay.

  Now the chair was mine. The soft leather under my thumbs provided a kind of comfort as I took another meeting with Giles to begin the process of turning over day-to-day operations to Darcy. I’d had no idea of all the complications my grandfather dealt with on a daily basis.

  “Darcy should be here,” I said. I had no interest in running things. As far as I was concerned, the estate, the house, everything was Darcy’s, regardless of what the official documentation said. I just wanted my business.

  “The paperwork today doesn’t need Darcy. She knows what she needs to do, and I’ll guide her through the rest.” My sister had been preparing for this moment for years. She knew the estate better than anyone. She loved her life here. I’d been selfish all these years thinking that she’d be fine as long as I provided for her financially. I’d thought Frederick having this place would be no big deal but now my grandfather was gone, I was so relieved that Frederick wouldn’t have any claim over it. Darcy would be happy. I’d have control over the Westbur
y Group. Everything was how my grandfather had wanted it.

  “Thank you, Giles. We’re lucky to have you.”

  We’d been in England two weeks. The funeral had been yesterday and this morning I woke for the first time thinking of life back in Manhattan. Scarlett hadn’t mentioned going back, though she must be wondering how long we’d stay.

  “Darcy’s incredibly strong, but she can’t do this without you,” I said. “She will need your wise counsel.”

  “Oh, I think she’ll do just fine, whatever life throws at her. You’re both resourceful and independent. The old duke said that was what he admired in you both—the way you dealt with your mother and father. He worried it would damage you, but he said that you both had the ability to turn the most negative situation into a positive one.”

  My parents had been the last thing I’d been thinking about since my grandfather’s death. I’d called my mother to let her know about her father’s death the day after it happened. The call had lasted less than a minute. I wasn’t sure if she was incredibly upset or just disinterested. She’d thanked me for letting her know and then made her excuses to end the conversation.

  I’d not heard from her since, despite sending her funeral details over email.

  We all grieved in different ways, but apparently, it hadn’t occurred to my mother that Darcy or I might need her here. Because we didn’t. We never had.

  The thing about death was it turned your attention to the living. In the last two weeks I’d thought a lot about my future. I’d never thought about having children before, but my grandfather’s death had made me see it as a possibility—as the next natural step. I could imagine having a daughter with Scarlett’s long, dark hair, riding one of the estate’s ponies—tiny riding boots on—her face bearing a scrape of mud. My son on Scarlett’s lap as she read him a story as my grandmother had done for Darcy and me.

  “At some point we should talk about the dissolution of your marriage,” Giles said.

  His words caught my attention, yanking me out of the vision of my future I’d created. “Pardon?”

  “We need to transfer the loans you made to Cecily Fragrance to Scarlett and begin proceedings. We can wait three months to file everything but there’s nothing to stop us getting things ready now.”