Heir's Affair

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Heir's Affair Page 2

by Scarlett Finn


  “Yeah, Tiny, think about that next time you rock up to strange guy’s places.”

  “Thank you,” she said because he’d stepped up for her.

  Tally was still in a daze, stumbling as she trotted along behind him until he came to an abrupt halt.

  “Where’s your car?” he asked and she looked around to see they were on the corner of the block.

  If that’s what he was looking for, he’d be looking for a long time. “I don’t have a car,” she said. “I was dropped off by a company driver.”

  Pierre lived in the same section of staff quarters that she did at the Stretton Estate. He helped her out whenever he could, but tonight he had other places to be and couldn’t hang around.

  “Company car? Nice. My old man must make out all right.”

  That answered her question about whether Max knew who his father was. “More than all right,” she said, thinking his attitude would change when he learned the scope of what she was presenting to him. “Theodore Stretton is worth a few billion…” For the first time since she’d identified herself, Max lost his scowl. “And he wants to bequeath it to you.”

  A second later he laughed a short, sinister sound that had no resemblance to amusement. “Not interested.” What? Tally didn’t even know how to… What? Stepping into the road, Max stopped a cab and opened the back door. “Hop it, girlie, don’t come back.”

  Casting off her surprise, Tally refused to get into the back of the car. “Please let me explain,” she said. “Let me tell you what he wants.”

  “No,” Max said, trying to wrestle her into the car.

  This was her job. Panic was making her fingers shake. All she was supposed to do was identify that he was Max Flynn and bring him to his father. If she couldn’t do that…

  She couldn’t keep fighting him, he was stronger than she was, but she tried her best to resist. Already her muscles were aching as she battled his attempts to push her down, and he wasn’t even really trying.

  “Please!”

  “No!”

  Desperation was making her frantic. The Stretton’s were all she knew, if Teddy got mad, that was it, he’d fire her and life as she knew it would be over. “Please!”

  “Get in the damn cab!” he demanded.

  “Just let me explain!” she begged.

  “Get the fuck outta here!”

  “He’ll fire me, Max!” she exclaimed. The words just tumbled out of her. She didn’t know what she’d do if she didn’t have the Strettons. Max stopped pushing her and frowned again, but this one wasn’t angry so much as it was curious. “I’m sorry but… this means a lot to him. A lot of time has gone into finding you and… Teddy’s not the most patient man. If I go back there and tell him we talked, but I didn’t tell you everything… he’ll fire me and… I live at the house, Mr. Flynn. I’ll be homeless, jobless, and he’ll never give me a reference. Please… you have to hear me out. I’ve worked for your family for years. I’ve never seen it like this. Please…” Taking a breath, she tried to find a thread of composure. “How bad can one conversation be? Will it kill you?”

  His jaw worked side to side as he ground his teeth. “Fine. Tomorrow night, meet me at Fitzpatrick’s a block over… I’m buying you a drink.”

  Shaking her head, Tally had to refuse. She’d been teetotal for years. The idea of picking up a glass scared her. “No, my employer—”

  “Yeah, you gave me that line upstairs. ‘Cept now I know who your employer is, I don’t give a fuck. How’d you like that? Drink with me or no conversation.”

  Max liked to be in control, just like his father. Which was the lesser of the evils? Agree to have a drink or get fired from the only respectable job she’d ever had?

  To get what she needed, Tally had to acquiesce. “What time?”

  TWO

  What was she doing here? Tally shouldn’t have dressed up like this was a date. Though to be fair, she’d worn this dress to the last SC event. A professional event. It wasn’t a dress designed to allure, it was meant to be worn on a social occasion… and this was, technically, a social occasion.

  Except she’d forgotten that a social occasion with a billionaire wasn’t the same as one in a dive bar in a crappy neighborhood.

  God, she was out of practice.

  To say she was drawing attention to herself was an understatement and she’d only gotten out of the car ten seconds ago. The gang on the corner were loitering, whispering as they checked her out. It was too dark to read their expressions, but she’d bet they weren’t simply speculating on who’d designed what she was wearing.

  Tally had no choice but to cross the sidewalk and go into Fitzpatrick’s.

  Keeping her head down, she moved past the curve of the bar and picked a central spot on the straight edge. It wasn’t busy, only a few tables were occupied, but the back of the room was gloomy, meaning she couldn’t pick out any features. There could be a whole football team back there and she wouldn’t be able to tell.

  The floor, the walls, the ceiling, everywhere was painted black. Furniture was sparse and shabby. This wasn’t just a ramshackle place, it was ominous.

  The curious bartender was almost mocking her with his sneer when he came over. Examining her sequined clutch and the diamonds dangling from her ears, he couldn’t hide his smile.

  “Uh…” she said, trying to hold her posture. “Club soda, please.”

  “Fuck that,” Max’s booming voice vibrated behind her and she turned to see him striding over. He tossed some words to a table he passed, then laughed, and came to her at the bar. He must have been here already, sitting at a table somewhere, and she hadn’t even noticed him. “Usual, Trey.”

  Tally was almost afraid to ask. “Wha…? What’s the usual?”

  Max didn’t even look at her, he just rested an expectant hand on the bar. “Tequila.”

  “Oh no,” she said as the bartender nodded and disappeared. “I couldn’t—”

  “Leave us the bottle, Trey,” Max called to the bartender who sauntered back over while pouring out a measure. “Put it on my tab.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Trey sniggered. “And when you think you’ll pay that tab, buddy? Huh?”

  There was a smile on Trey’s face, but it wasn’t one of humor. This guy had to have a store of smiles and she’d yet to see one that was happy.

  Max took her by surprise when he turned and unhooked her earring to slap it onto the bar. “That should cover me for a while.”

  The bartender’s intrigue made him pick up the jewel to scrutinize it. The diamond must have passed inspection because Trey slid the bottle onto the bar in front of them.

  “Oh no, wait,” she said, but the bartender was already walking away.

  Max ignored her too. He stood up and leaned over the bar to snag another glass from a lowered shelf. Straightening again, he poured out the second drink that Trey had neglected.

  “Ok, sweetheart,” Max said, picking up his glass to toss back the shot before refilling it with a more generous measure. “You’re out of your comfort zone here, so let me give you a few tips.”

  “Tips?”

  He shoved her glass to her. Tally touched it with her fingertips, but didn’t want to drink. “First, drink,” he said, picking up the glass to put it in her hand. She sipped, but he sniggered. “Drink it all.”

  Oh, God, she hadn’t had a drink in years and he was asking her to down this potent liquid all at once? Closing her eyes, Tally took the biggest mouthful she could and tried not to choke as the liquor scorched her throat. She covered her mouth with the back of her fingers to stifle a cough.

  “Good, now lose the sparkle,” he said, turning her hand to unclip her tennis bracelet. “I’m surprised you didn’t get mugged on the street out there.”

  She unhooked her other earring and opened her clutch to slide the jewelry inside, not that keeping it safe mattered; she wouldn’t be able to wear those earrings again since Max had just bartered the other one for their drinks.

  “I
was dropped off by—”

  “A company driver, sure,” he said. “How come they drop you off but never pick you up or wait? Take your hair down.”

  Pulling the slide from her chignon, Tally put the accessory in her clutch too, then pulled the pins from her locks. His question was probably rhetorical, but she answered it anyway for lack of anything better to say.

  “Pierre is nice to me, he drops me off when he’s on his way to official jobs… he’s not really supposed to drive me,” she said. “I’m just an assistant, I don’t warrant official attention. Your father and Kimmy are going to the ballet tonight and she—”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Tally gasped when he grabbed her dress at her waist and tugged it down with such force it almost ripped. “Mr. Flynn!” she exclaimed, looking down to see that her breasts were now heaving over her neckline with the lace of her bra cups peeking over the top of the conservative fabric.

  But he didn’t slow down, he licked each of his thumbs in turn and cradled her head to smudge the make-up at the corners of her eyes. She was still stuttering when he slid one of her dress straps off the ball of her shoulder.

  “Sit up on your stool, baby, nice and straight,” he said, putting his arms around her to direct the seat under her ass and closer to him. “Cross your legs toward me.”

  Without much of a choice given his proximity and actions, Tally perched herself on the high stool and did as he said. He pulled her even closer so that her crossed legs were nestled between his wide thighs.

  “What are you—”

  “Good girl,” he said and drove his fingers into her hair. Tally wasn’t used to any man being so rough and brazen with her. His hands were so big, his wide fingers tangled and tugged as they rumpled and messed her hair. He tilted his head. “Hmm…” If she was reading his scrutiny right, something still wasn’t meeting his standard. Max landed on some idea and leaned forward with her chin pinched between his curled forefinger and thumb. “Open up for me, sweetness.”

  Tally did open her mouth, because she was going to ask what he was planning. But that opening gave him the opportunity to slip his tongue between her lips. She was too shocked to even respond; he forced his mouth over hers to kiss her more thoroughly than she’d ever been kissed.

  He tasted of bitter liquor and dangerous man. Max was powerful and his lack of propriety proved how he felt entitled to dominate her, even though they were still practically strangers and sitting in public.

  Tally was still in shock when he leaned back and picked up his glass to toss back his tequila. “That’s better,” he said, rubbing a thumb over the corner of her mouth before sliding two large hands up the front of her thigh and under her skirt. His brows rose when he touched lace. “You wearing something fancy for me, babygirl?” No, she wore thigh-high stockings every day. They weren’t for him. “Show me.”

  But he didn’t wait for her to do anything, he gathered up her skirt, bunching it above her stockings, exposing a line of flesh on her thighs and he grumbled something that sounded like appreciation.

  “Mr. Flynn,” she said, trying to push his hands away when he began to stroke the bared skin of her legs. “Please.”

  “Listen, baby,” he murmured, sliding his elbow along the bar so he could cup her face under her hair and stroke her cheek. “The only way you get out of here without trouble is if you fit in. And the only way you fit in is if you belong to me, got it?”

  “Belong to—”

  “That’s right,” he said, the corner of his mouth tilting as his eyes fell to her lips. “Now show me you understand.”

  How was she supposed to do that? This was beyond out of her element. Tally touched her naked earlobe and cleared her throat. Suddenly she was aware of the other patrons, and how they might view her as a stranger coming in here wearing diamonds and designer clothes, and then she remembered those men in the entryway of Max’s building and those on the corner outside. The necessity of fear made her play along.

  She wasn’t usually forward and hadn’t been on a real date in… forever. Tally was too busy to date. Yeah, she often went to social functions, but she was only there to be on hand for her employer.

  The men who accompanied her were usually other Stretton employees who had their own reasons for being present. She was a good cover for security or for lawyers who wanted to be close to Teddy. For men who didn’t necessarily want to declare themselves as anything other than the innocuous date of an insignificant assistant.

  When she dropped her hand onto Max’s knee, he smiled. “Gotta give me more than that,” he murmured.

  More, ok, pushing her shoulders back, she arched into him like she wanted him to notice her cleavage and, with a sly smile, he did.

  “Nice,” he muttered. “More… make them really believe it, Sugar.”

  Geez, how far was she going to have to go with this guy for appearances? Leaning in, Tally touched her lips to his and that was when she noticed it. Here in these close quarters, she saw the light of interest in his eyes. She couldn’t usually read men, but this guy was more unashamed than others and it was there. Definitely there. He was attracted to her, without a doubt.

  Instead of worrying her, a heat clenched in Tally’s belly and her constricted breasts grew heavy. Awareness tingled through her. Why did it kick her hormones into overdrive to know she’d caught the attention of this uncivilized animal?

  Skimming her lips over his stubble, she kissed his jaw then parted her lips to rasp her teeth against him. If he wanted more, she was going to give it to him. Did he have a limit? How far would he let her go?

  Her hands moved higher up his legs and Tally used that point of contact as a lever to rise. Pushing her body into his, she ran her tongue along his lower lip and then opened to give him the kiss she’d been too shocked to give him before.

  It started slow and sped up until they reached a kind of fever pitch. Grabbing her hair in an unyielding fist, Max gripped her so tight that her scalp burned, but it was enlivening. The sheer possession of that masculine hand lost in her mass of loose hair made her feel primal.

  Holding her head back at a sharp angle, he forced her to stay under his mouth, under his domination, beneath his need.

  Her hands skimmed to the top of his thighs and her thumbs trailed up each side of the thick erection pulsing in his jeans. God, she shouldn’t be touching him like this, this wasn’t “more,” this was beyond the line, far beyond the line. But the next time her thumbs pushed down, they were more insistent, rubbing harder, making it clear she had found his arousal and wasn’t afraid of it.

  The hand that wasn’t in her hair left her thigh and closed around her breast. Tally gasped when Max squeezed her hard, but the sharp inhale just drew his tongue deeper into her mouth, intensifying their kiss.

  An abrupt whistle to her left interrupted their mouths and both of them turned to see that the bartender was right there. “Yo, that’s what the alley out back is for,” Trey said, glaring at them both with mischief. “Cool it or split.”

  Oh God, what had she done? She’d been making out with Max Flynn in public! More than making out! She’d touched his…

  Twisting away from him, Tally put both elbows on the bar and grabbed up her glass to down the last of her tequila. This time the burn of the liquor was welcome. She needed that cleansing wash in her mouth, to slide over her tongue and down her throat to the want that was still softening her core in preparation for slaking her surprising desire.

  The bottle came into view. She was so happy to see that the next measure Max poured for her was more liberal than the last and she was grateful to gulp it down.

  Max leaned in at her side, losing his mouth in her hair until it was pressed against her ear. “Now you’re getting it, baby,” he murmured and slid his hand to her inner thigh, massaging the flesh between the top of her thigh-high and her panties.

  It went higher until the edge of his finger touched the lace of her crotch and that was when she grabbed his wrist to pull it bac
k down to her knee.

  “Don’t,” she whispered. Lowering her glass to the bar, she turned her head toward his, which was only an inch away. “I’m sorry I touched you, that was… rude.”

  But his heavy eyes weren’t offended; he leaned in to kiss the corner of her mouth. “You’re good at being rude, angel,” he said and picked up her hand to put it back on his thigh. Pressing his palm against her knuckles, he slid her hand all the way up until it was covering the bulge behind his fly. “And you got my attention in all the right places.”

  “I don’t want that attention from you,” she whispered.

  The most shameful part of that statement was its dishonesty, because some secret, naughty part of her did want it.

  “Too bad, gorgeous, ‘cause you’ve got it… and it ain’t going anywhere.”

  “Can you just pick a pet name and stick with it?” she snapped in an uncharacteristic burst of anger.

  Every time he used a different one it made her think that he did this with every woman; tossing out different names, showing no commitment to any, like their identities were interchangeable. It was insulting to be lumped in with every other female who’d ever crossed his path.

  Except, she shouldn’t care, didn’t care before they’d kissed and now…

  Tally felt off-balance and sick. Not disgusted, just confused, and aroused, and angry at herself. The impatience itching under her skin wanted to grab his hand and drag him out to that alley the bartender had mentioned, proving what a disappointment she was to her employer and to her gender.

  He eased back a little. “Ok, Boss, you got it… I’ve got no problem following your orders. You like to be in charge, baby? Like to keep your guy in line?”

  She hated the way his hand was stroking her lower back. It was making her relax in all the wrong ways. Her lungs were getting tighter as her sense began to dwindle.

  “You’re not my guy,” she whispered.

  “Ok, casual, you got it, Boss… whatever you want.”

  Gulping more liquor, Tally surprised herself by being the one to pick up the bottle this time. “You said I had to belong to you to survive. It’s a show, right?”

 

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