by K. Webster
“Sir,” Dubois says from my office doorway, “may I have a word?”
I stretch back in my chair and nod. It distracts me from how I professed my love to Jess last night. What the fuck was I thinking? “Of course.”
He strolls in wearing a frown and sits across from me. “We have a problem.”
Jerking back upright, I glare at him. “Trevor?”
“Most likely,” he says with a sigh. “I’m sorry but . . . someone hurt Glenna.”
I frown at him in confusion. “What?”
“They found her body—an apparent overdose on prescription meds, but Jamal found a note in her office. Instead of notifying the police, he called me last night while you were in your quarters with the toy.”
Snatching up my stapler, I growl and then sling it across the room. It hits a frame which then crashes to the floor. “Her name is Jessica.”
He seems startled by my outburst but quickly continues. “Anyway, the note said: One bitch down and two bitches to go. Hit him where it hurts. The bitches make him weak.”
What in the ever loving fuck?
“You’re kidding me!” I roar. “You’ve got to be fucking shitting me!”
I’m already out of my chair and am pacing the office, dragging my fingertips through my hair.
“We have options.”
I snap my gaze over to him. “Is that so? What sort of fucking options besides killing that fucker do we have?”
Dubois seems unfazed. Another reason why I hired him long ago. Where I let my emotions rule me, he uses logic.
“We could go to the police,” he says, his voice unaffected, “but I don’t really think you want them peeling off the lid of your personal affairs.”
Not a fucking option.
“Or?”
“We could call his bluff. But that may not be the smartest option considering he’s already been through Glenna.”
I scrub my cheeks with my palms in frustration. Two to go. Does that mean Christine and Jessica are at risk? The thought causes my belly to drop. “Option three?”
He shrugs. “Let me take care of things.”
Nodding, I stand. “I’ll pack a bag and we can leave by—”
Dubois stops me with a raised hand. “Sir, with all due respect, I believe it is in your best interest to not get involved. It was an entirely different story with Corgy because we weren’t in our country. However, Trevor knows people, including the workings of your company. I fear he’ll be waiting for this and will only succeed if you land in his lap.”
I start to pace the room. “What am I supposed to do? Sit here and hope he doesn’t fuck any more shit up?”
He folds his hands together and pins me with a serious stare. “Sir, you’re supposed to protect Christine and Jessica.”
When it rounds noon and I haven’t seen Jessica, my stomach grows uneasy. What sort of asshole tells a woman who makes him insane that he loves her the night before and then hides like a fucking pussy the next morning?
This asshole.
I stand and stretch before stalking out of my office. She’s nowhere to be found but I can hear Christine rooting around in the kitchen. My mind reels with all that’s evolved in the past twelve hours. I’d told Jess I loved her. Glenna “overdosed” on pills. And Dad now lives with me. A few months ago, I was alone aside from my three household employees. It was quiet and normal.
Now, it’s chaotic and stressful.
If I’m being honest, it’s also happy. So fucking happy.
I punch in the numbers for my suite and immediately leave when I don’t see her. My heartrate picks up as I go to the top floor. But neither she nor Dad are up there.
Where the fuck are they?
Trevor.
A sick feeling washes over me. If he really wanted to hurt me, all it would take was doing something to the only two people on this earth I love.
I do love her.
Despite my natural desire to deny it, I know I can’t fool myself. I belong to her and she belongs to me. The moment is as clear as day, just like the moment my dad came and fetched me from New York. There was no question. Only answers. I was his—end of story.
The second floor yields nothing and I’m about three seconds from having a goddamned panic attack. When the doors open to the basement, laughter fills my ears—her laughter—and I sigh in relief.
“Oh, stop whining you grumpy old man,” Jessica chides and splashes water at my dad. They’re both in the pool and for a moment I watch them.
“We’ve been swimming for an hour, little lady. I think I’ve had enough exercise for the day,” he pouts.
I bite on my bottom lip to keep from laughing. She’s wearing a sexy turquoise bathing suit and her dark hair is twisted into a neat bun on her head making her look like a water fairy or a goddess.
“It’s been thirty minutes and you said the doctor’s advice was to exercise. I know Brax doesn’t want to lose you to a heart attack anytime soon.”
He groans and starts swimming again. Her face lights up, shining with smug pride at having won. When Dad reaches the end of the pool, he looks up and sees me.
“Braxxy, help. Your woman is crazy,” he gripes, but I don’t miss the humor in his voice.
I walk over to the edge and squat. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Hey!” she scoffs as she makes her way over to us until she’s waist deep in the shallower end by the ledge. “You look stressed. Can I have a kiss?”
Her face is scrubbed free of makeup and her wide green eyes are blinking innocently at me. She’s so damn beautiful. Of course I’ll give her a fucking kiss. I’ll give her the whole goddamned world.
She reaches for me, once she’s close, and presses a wet kiss on my lips. Her fingers thread behind my neck and as I deepen my kiss, she pulls me hard. I lose my footing and splash into the water on top of her. The little vixen tugs me under and I can hear my dad laughing above the surface. We both emerge and I run both palms over my eyes to wipe the droplets away.
“You’re so going down, woman,” I gripe as I start to shed my now heavy-ass jacket.
She squeals and swims to the other end of the pool where it’s deep to escape me. She’ll never escape me.
“Perfect timing, son. I’m going to go hustle Christine for something to eat,” Dad says with a mischievous grin as he climbs out. “Maybe I can sweet talk some bacon out of her.”
I chuckle and shake my head at him before turning my attention back to her.
“It was an accident,” Jessica calls out, her palms up in a defensive move.
I narrow my gaze at her as I toss my soaked jacket over to the edge. The tie and shirt get peeled off next. My shoes have fallen off already—Italian leather ruined in an instant. I never take my eyes from her as I fumble out of my pants, socks, and boxers. Dad is long since escaped—understanding the inevitable.
“My turn for a kiss.” My voice is low and gravelly as I inch my way toward her.
She’s grinning but has a healthy fear of what I’ll do next. “Maybe I don’t want to kiss you. You left me all alone all morning.”
“I had work to do. Plus, you were sleeping.” I watch her swim out into the deeper water away from the edge as I slowly make my way over to her. My mind craves to stay lost down here with Jess in our secret wet world where psychos aren’t threatening the people I care about or murdering my employees. If I can silence my mind even for a few minutes to the stresses that have recently shattered my world, then I’m going to snatch that opportunity. Because the moment I go back upstairs, the hits that don’t seem to quit coming will once again continue their battery.
“Still, you could have—”
Her words are cut off as I dive under the water. I open my eyes, ignoring the burn of the chlorine and dart toward her dangling legs that are now swimming back toward the edge. I’m quicker than her though and grab an ankle. Her scream can be heard above the water as I drag her under. My fingers tug at the strings of the swimsuit bottoms as I
pull her body to mine. Bubbles flutter from her nose as she stares at me. I splay my fingertips over her ass and she’s no longer fighting as she attaches herself to me. My cock’s not fully hard yet but having this half naked minx wrapped around me under water is definitely exciting me.
My chest burns for air, so I graze my lips over hers as I thrust us up toward the surface. As soon as we take that first breath, our mouths connect in a greedy way. I dive my tongue into her mouth and kiss her with a fury I can’t explain. I just fucking need her. Now.
“Mmm,” she moans as I swim us toward the edge with her in my arms.
I’m fully erect now. The moment I push her against the tiled wall of the pool, I’m able to drive my thickness into her pussy. Grabbing onto the ledge, I let her hold on to me so I can focus on fucking her.
And boy do we fuck.
Her fingers rip at my hair and scratch at my flesh as I take her. I manage to yank on the strings of her top and soon she’s fully nude.
“Oh, God,” I grunt into her mouth as her tits press against my chest. “I fucking missed you.”
She whimpers and her body begins to shudder in pleasure. “I missed you too.”
My name becomes a chant on her lips as she climaxes. A few more thrusts and I’m coming with her, with an intensity I can’t explain.
Of all the toys I’ve had, sex has never been like it is with Jessica.
With her, my mind and heart orgasm too. It’s euphoric and unexplainable. And it’s ruined me for any other woman.
It will always be her.
“We’ve never celebrated Mr. Kennedy’s birthday before but Rich insists that it’s today,” Christine tells me as she pulls out of the garage.
I’m eager to get out and go to the grocery store with her for my own reasons. And knowing it’s his birthday, I want to buy him a gift.
“Why do you sound stressed?” I question, smoothing still-wet tendrils of hair back into my bun, as she drives down the road. I think it’s funny he lets her drive this huge-ass Cadillac Escalade. Christine with her sweet disposition looks like she’s a mafia mom or something.
She sighs. “He keeps to himself when it comes to his past. I want to make it special but I don’t even know what cake he’d prefer.”
I smile at her. It’s sweet that she worries about something as simple as what cake he’d like for his birthday.
The afternoon goes well, and if I didn’t adore Christine before, I absolutely love her now. She’s funny and spunky, filling a void in my heart that I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed. Christine is like a fun aunt who knows how to cook but can also shop like nobody’s business. The woman dragged me through half of Seattle before we ended up at the grocery store—our original destination four hours later. I’d laughed when she’d bought Brax all sorts of crap. Meanwhile, I’d bought him one gift. Simple and inexpensive. And perfect.
We’d decided on chocolate cake because I’d insisted. I didn’t tell her I knew he’d love it because he’d eaten chocolate syrup from my body like a hungry little bear in front of his friends not that long ago. The memory heats my neck and I think about making love to him in the pool. We’d done it once more in the shower after. And just like last night, he murmured that he loved me.
My heart thrums in my chest. Is Brax really my happily ever after? Do I even deserve one after everything I’ve been through? Deep down, I know the answer is yes.
But then there’s Jimmy.
Guilt twists in my gut. I’d love to forget Jimmy’s promise to come back for me. To go on and enjoy my life with Brax, pretending I never ran into Jimmy back in Vegas. Life could be perfect. I could settle and enjoy the peace I’ve longed for.
I’d tried to convince Brax to sell the company. I hoped maybe I could be two steps ahead of Jimmy. By Brax selling, the only operation that could be questionable in the eyes of the law would no longer be associated with him. Then, I could reveal to Brax who my husband was—that it was him who’d beat me up back in Vegas. And he could keep me safe from him.
My heart sinks. Jimmy won’t give up without a fight. He knows people and none of them are good. The truth of the matter is, I’d be a sitting duck.
I have to tell Brax though. He’s smart and fierce. Surely he could figure out a plan.
“Learn to drive, idiot,” Christine gripes as she glances at the headlights in her mirror. It’s dark now and they bounce wildly from behind us.
Turning in my seat, I’m alarmed to see the driver swerving erratically.
“Pull over and let him pass. He’s probably drunk,” I tell her.
She nods and starts to slow but he seems to speed up. Before I can warn her, he slams into the back of the Escalade.
“Shit! Go, Christine!”
She gasses it and we tear off down the dark highway. I’m surprised when she flies through the cars, weaving in and out like she was a Nascar driver in a past life. I turn in my seat again to see the car mimicking our actions.
“He’s following us,” I shout.
She guns it and soon whips off an exit I don’t remember. We haul ass down some back roads and through a neighborhood. When we turn down a road with a few houses, she hits a button on the visor and I watch in shock as a garage opens. Even in the dark, I can tell the home is expensive—not quite as big as Brax’s but still nice. She whips into the two car garage and presses the button once more. When we’re safe in the confines of the garage, she turns to me, her eyes wide.
“We need to call Mr. Kennedy.”
I nod and climb out of the Escalade. “Whose house is this?”
She smiles at me as she fishes her phone from her purse. “It’s mine.”
I gape at her but follow her inside. The décor reminds me of my home growing up. Despite it being an expensive home, her decorations are homey and old-fashioned.
“I thought you lived with Brax.”
“Sweetheart, I stay there when he needs me but when he’s on business, I come home. That house is too big and lonely otherwise. In fact, we all go home. Dubois even has a home on Lake Sammamish too, though he prefers to rent it out. Besides, I think he loves being Mr. Kennedy’s shadow and typically goes with him on those out of town trips. Mr. Kennedy purchased them all the year we started with him as a bonus if you will. The Escalade’s mine too, compliments of our boss.”
My brows are at my hairline. No wonder he got pissed when I told him he doesn’t pay them enough. He pays them too much. I think back to the white Porsche Cayenne of Cartier’s I rode around in a few days ago. I’m about to ask her what Dubois’ car is when she gets someone to answer.
“Cartier, I need to speak with Mr. Kennedy. Can you put him on?”
Her eyes dart to mine and her brows furrow, disappointment morphs her features.
“I see. That’s severely unfortunate being that it’s his birthday and all. I know, I’m not trying to make you feel guilty,” she sighs. “Listen, dear. Jessica and I were hit by a car.”
I can hear Cart shrieking on the other line.
“We’re okay and the damage can be fixed. The car followed us but we got away. I’m here at my house with her. What should we do?”
She nods and eventually she hangs up.
“What’d he say?” I ask.
“He’ll be here in twenty minutes.”
I hold my purse against me and glare at Cartier in the entryway of Braxton’s home. “Spit it out,” I say with a growl.
Christine is just as anxious but something tells me he divulged to her over the phone earlier more than he’s willing to tell me.
“He left in a fury,” he groans, running his fingers through his chocolate curls.
“Where’d he go?”
My lip is quivering and I hate that I’m so weak. He’d promised he wouldn’t shut me out and here he just whisked off without so much as a goodbye.
“Vegas. There was a fire. A bad one.”
“An accident?” I whisper as the room spins. Please let it be an accident.
; “Arson. He thinks it was Trevor.”
Bile rises in my throat. If Trevor tried to burn down his hotel, then who tried to run Christine and I off the road?
Jimmy.
“I, uh, don’t feel so well. I’m going to lie down.” I rush past them and nearly run into Richard. He grips my biceps and stares fiercely into my eyes.
“Are you okay?”
I shake my head willing my tears not to spill over. He frowns and pulls me in for a quick hug, kissing me on top of the head before he releases me. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this, Jessica. I promise. Everything will work out.”
My smile is forced but I nod as if I agree and make my way back to Brax’s sanctuary. It won’t be okay. Because if Jimmy is involved, he will not stop until he has me. He’ll ruin all of their lives, Brax especially, because of me. Christine, Cartier, and Dubois will become jobless. Rich will lose his only child. And Brax will end up dead or in prison. Once again, it disgusts me. I should have known Jimmy wouldn’t have waited the full six months. It isn’t his style. When he wants something, he takes it. After seeing me in Vegas, he probably went home, formulated a plan, and is now executing said plan. It’s just the way he is.
This time he won’t win. He won’t take down my friends and the man I love. I’ll get the hell out of here and spare their futures.
Once inside his room, I inhale the scent of him that lingers in the air. The floor vent and blanket call to me—a beacon of promise that my problems will go away. But they won’t go away. I’m not delusional. I drop my purse on the bed and rummage until I find the bag with his gift in it as well as the other item I’d picked up at the drug store.
When I first started this journey with Brax, I’d been given an implant to prevent pregnancy and even had a couple of normal periods after. But, having been pregnant before, I know the first signs. Tiredness, swollen, sore breasts, emotional outbursts, nausea, missed period. A part of me begged for these to just be signs of stress—that there wasn’t a chance the implant wouldn’t have taken properly.
Yet . . .
Another part of me hopes. Hopes for the creation of something between Brax and I, this time, a something I can protect. I’m stronger now—more prepared.