Untamed (New York Heirs #1.5)

by Drea Blackery

  A pint-sized, golden-haired girl with eyes bluer than any I’d ever seen.

  I decided to hire Emmaline the moment she turned those gorgeous eyes on me, and until this day, it’s the best decision I ever made.

  To put it simply, finding Emmaline Brown was like striking gold. She’s sharp, damned loyal, and she read my mind before I even knew it.

  She was the perfect raven to my wolf. My equal in every way.

  So I really had to ask.

  How the fuck had she screwed up this badly today?

  I stabbed my finger at the elevator button in rapid succession, as if it could take me up to my apartment quicker. When it finally reached my floor, I strode up to my unlocked front door and kicked the solid mahogany open like it was made of cardboard.

  My six-thousand-square-foot penthouse greeted me. I didn’t do shit in half-measures, so it was designed in the latest, most obnoxious American trends. Think floor-to-ceiling windows and gaudy chandeliers and white marble statues and a manicured terrace stretching into the night time Manhattan skyline.

  But now I didn’t even have the mood to admire it, all thanks to a smart-ass who had screwed me over in my meeting earlier.

  Her job title might be Head of Security, but what I really needed Emma for was I-N-T-E-L.

  She hadn’t delivered that intel, and now it was going to cost me.

  “Emmaline!” I yelled as I strode past the foyer into the living room. “Emmaline Brown!”

  “What.” Her soft voice floated from her workroom, one of the three bedrooms I had converted for her.

  Including her own bedroom suite, Emma took up two rooms and my kitchen. Which meant that my penthouse practically belonged to her.

  Was it too much to expect that she made my job a bit easier for me?

  I stopped in the living room and folded my arms. “Come here, I want to talk to you.”

  “One sec.”

  I tapped my foot and waited impatiently, but after two minutes passed, it became clear to me that Emma was not coming.

  She was smart, yes.

  She was loyal, sure.

  She also had a damned bad habit of doing whatever the hell she wanted, and fuck what I thought about it.

  I stalked over to her workroom to see what she was doing that was more important than answering a summons from me.

  The large workroom was filled with cabinets of random shit—camera gear, computers, bugging devices. Emma was seated cross-legged in her plastic IKEA chair, facing a wall that was covered with monitor screens displaying camera footage and lines of code that looked straight out of the Matrix.

  Emma herself looked the part of a villainous mastermind with that determined expression and pixie hair, busily typing away like she was writing some command to destroy the world at a push of a button.

  That badass effect was unfortunately ruined by her very un-badass pink fluffy sweatpants and hoodie set. That chick was girly as anything, even if she’d never admit it.

  I planted my hands on my hips. “Oy.”

  Type, type, type. No response.

  I popped my jaw in irritation and strode over to her. Grabbing the back of her chair, I tipped it backwards on two legs.

  Emma cursed, reaching back in reflex to grab my forearms.

  Then she dropped her head back and blinked up at me. “Oh, hey.”

  “Hey—” I stopped when I remembered I was supposed to be pissed, not smiling.

  I scowled into her upside down face. “Don’t give me that puppy look, chica, we need to talk. You screwed me over today.”

  I released the chair sharply to emphasize my point, and Emma dropped back forward.

  “Think you could do it without giving me a heart attack—wait a minute.” She turned to the clock on the wall. Then she frowned back at me and crinkled her nose. “It’s two in the morning. Why aren’t you at the club with Ryland Wyatt?”

  Because the meeting was over. The deal we discussed involved developing a luxury resort off Copacabana, and I had assured my father I would secure Wyatt Corp’s partnership.

  I hadn’t.

  I swore and dropped my head back. “Wyatt didn’t sign,” I said to the ceiling.

  “What!” Emma spun her ass around in her chair and put her legs on either side of the backrest. “Why the hell not? He wanted the contract just as bad!”

  “There was…a complication.”

  Emma blinked.

  Then her dark eyebrows lowered ominously. “Don’t tell me you brought in the girls again.”

  I shrugged.

  “You did.” She looked like she wanted to strangle me.

  Emma and I got along like blood brothers, but the one thing we always argued about was the girls. She hated when I got them to help with my business meetings, because according to her, it was tacky and unprofessional.

  But me, I didn’t give a shit about looking professional as long as the job got done. Being in the presence of an attractive woman could turn even the most powerful businessman into an idiot, and the girls at Club Palais made seduction an art form. More money was made in a single day with their help than in a month without.

  And if it was a businesswoman I was up against, well, there was always me.

  “Stop glaring at me, Emma,” I warned. “If you did your job properly, I wouldn’t have used the girls to confirm my suspicions. Wyatt’s assistant came with him to the meeting, and get this, the son of a bitch is in love with her.”

  Emma looked exactly like I did when I realized that fact.

  “That cold bastard?” she echoed. “In love with Horace Beckett’s daughter? No. Way. The only things he loves are his money and himself, in that order. Everyone knows that.”

  “I saw what I saw, Emmaline,” I said impatiently. Wyatt had directed pure fury at me when his woman fled from the club room and the six half-naked girls inside it.

  Emma folded her arms and frowned at me. “And how the hell was I supposed to know he’s in love with her?”

  “You’re supposed to know everything, from what he ate for breakfast to how much of it he shat out!”

  “Question.”

  “Answer.”

  She held up a fist. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

  I frowned warily. “Zero?”

  Emma gave me a look of surprise, her mouth forming a perfect O. “What a coincidence. That’s the exact number of fucks I give.”

  You know, I would actually die for Emma, if it ever came down to it. I loved her like she was my own sister. I’d catch a grenade for her, jump in front of a train, whatever cheesy lyric Bruno Mars could think of.

  And some days I just wanted to kill her myself.

  I strolled over to where Emma sat grinning at me like a cheeky monkey. I rested one hand on her desk and braced the other on the back of her chair. I lowered my face so close to hers that our eyes were level and our noses nearly touched.

  “Look at me, darling.” I made my voice low and seductive, and to my satisfaction, Emma did a double-blink before dropping her gaze to my lips.

  Her smile faded.

  “This contract means a lot to me,” I murmured, “and you’re the only one in the world who can fix this.” I gave her a slow smile, one that said I’m just the hottest guy you’ve ever seen, whose dream is to give you the best fucking of your life and ruin you for all others. “Will you do it for me?”

  Emma gazed back at me with those big blue eyes, unable to look away. Her breathing turned shallow. She bit her lower lip and blinked once, slowly, deliberately.

  Then she closed her eyes and pursed her lips at me.

  Hold on.

  She wasn’t supposed to react this way.

  I stared in shock as I took in the two crescents of dark lashes trembling against her cheeks. Her lips were clean and soft-looking, a shade of natural rose that made me want to taste them.

  Before I knew what I was doing, I was angling my head and lowering my mouth to hers—

  Emma snorted.

  Wh
at the fuck? I snapped my eyes wide open.

  The scamp held her stomach and giggled so hard that her shoulders shook.

  “Dude,” she gasped, wiping tears from her eyes. “Is there anything you won’t make out with?”

  “Shit.” I shoved back from her and ruffled my hair hard. “This isn’t a joke, Emmaline! Hack his systems, plant a bug or something. Just find out how we can twist his arm. His fucking neck.”

  “You watch way too much Netflix, pretty boy.”

  Emma shook her head, still grinning to herself. She pressed a button that turned her thousand and one monitor screens to black, then she got up from her chair and strode out into the living room.

  “This is bullshit,” I muttered as I strode after her. I rounded the sofa and dropped into it, pulling the hem of my shirt from my pants and undoing the buttons impatiently. “Why would he do that? Why would anyone do that?”

  Emma disappeared behind the counter of our open kitchen.

  “Do what,” she called. “Fall in love?”

  “No, falling in love is good.” I shrugged my shirt off and flung it away impatiently, letting it land somewhere on the living room floor behind me. “It makes life interesting, and it makes the sex better.”

  And that in itself was a reason to fall in love, because fact?

  I loved sex.

  I loved the thrill of hunting down a beautiful woman, the primal excitement when she surrendered her body to me. I loved the feel of my cock sliding into her hot pussy, the sound of slapping skin and feminine moans, the smell of it in the air.

  For that reason, being shackled to one woman appealed to me like the idea eating the same thing for the rest of your life. No fucking thanks.

  “The problem, querida, is when you want to own someone.” I kicked off my leather sandals and propped my feet on the coffee table. “Four hundred million dollars, and the bastard threw it away for a woman.”

  Emma straightened behind the kitchen counter with a can of cold beer in her hand and a thoughtful look on her face. “Maybe Wyatt just found you really annoying.”

  “You’re so full of shit.” I held up my hands. “Throw me a beer.”

  Emma drew her arm back and flung the beer can at me without warning.

  I instinctively caught it before it smashed into my face, but the force of it jerked my hand back against my nose.

  Which meant she threw it very hard.

  I stared at her. “Were you aiming for my fucking face?”

  “Maybe?” She grabbed another can and strolled back to the sofa, tucking her feet under her as she sat beside me.

  “What?” she asked innocently when she saw me staring at her.

  “Don’t what me, woman, you just attacked me with a beer can.”

  Emma merely chuckled. It was a pretty sound, and it made her face light up like she was an angel instead of an imp.

  I let it slide like the total sucker that I was.

  Shaking my head, I popped my beer and took a swallow. At the same time, I took the back of Emma’s neck with my other hand and started kneading the tight muscles there.

  “Mm…” Emma closed her eyes and let her head fall back, leaning into my touch like a cat.

  I grinned at her unabashed reaction. “If you’re a good and obedient servant for the next three days, I’ll get you a better chair. One that’s…what do you call it?”

  “Ergonomic?”

  “Yeah. That kind.”

  “Those are expensive. I like my IKEA one just fine.”

  “I told you, it’s bad for your posture. And stop trying to save money for me, it’s insulting.”

  “Good, because I totally meant to insult you.”

  I gave a hard pinch to her nape.

  Emma moaned loudly at that, arching her back in pleasure. “Mmm, that’s good…”

  And that was the moment I saw that Emma wasn’t wearing a bra.

  She sometimes went without at home, but this time, the peaks of her nipples were pointing outwards under her hoodie, obvious as two lighthouse beacons.

  I looked away before I could crash into the cliffs. “Stop making that sound, Emmaline .”

  Emma tilted her head curiously. “Why, is it turning you on?”

  “No,” I lied. “I’d just rather not think about you that way.”

  “Hm. And what’s wrong with thinking about me that way?”

  So many things. It wasn’t just wrong, it was also dangerous, because another fact?

  Emma was attractive.

  And I was aware of that.

  Especially aware, in fact, whenever she walked around the apartment in her tiny gym shorts that showed off her bouncy ass and long legs. As a straight guy who’s DTF twenty-four seven, I’d have to be blind not to notice.

  But looking at her that way also made me feel damned guilty because of one simple reason.

  “I love you like a brother.”

  Emma playfully bumped my shoulder with hers. “I love too,” she said, her tone light and cheerful.

  We sat in companionable silence as I massaged her neck and we drank our beer. Our earlier argument was far from resolved, but Emma and I communicated perfectly, fitting together like two halves of a whole. We’d sort it out eventually. We always did.

  “I still can’t believe Wyatt,” I mused, swirling my beer idly. “Why settle for one fish when you can have a whole sea of them?”

  “Because you want to find that special one.”

  “We’ve been through this, Emmaline. Monogamy is an ideal. Nice to have, but ultimately, not natural. It only makes us unhappy.”

  “Whatever floats your boat, manwhore. I wish you all the best in finding your school of fish.” Emma saluted me with her beer can and chugged.

  “Ah, so we’re down to calling names now. You know, you haven't dated in the time I've known you. That's what, six years.” I tilted my head and slowly leaned forward towards her.

  “You’re still a virgin, aren’t you?” I whispered loudly in her ear.

  Emma choked, spraying tiny droplets of beer at me. Her ears turned red as she coughed hard.

  I withdrew my hand from her neck and ruffled her hair, amused as hell at her embarrassment. “Come on, it’s not a bad thing to be a virgin. You’ll get to experience sex for the first time one day, and it’ll be beautiful.” I exhaled and looked up at the ceiling like I was deep in thought. “I remember my first time even now. I was a thirteen year old schoolboy, and she was this sexual brunette who interned for my father, with long legs and a pair of big, round—”

  Emma drove her elbow into my abs, and shit, it hurt.

  “Shut up,” she snarled.

  “—eyes.” I laughed at her furious expression. “Aw, you’re so fucking cute when you’re mad. Did I hit a sore spot? Is the little puppy angry?”

  “You wish. And you’re wrong, by the way. Dead wrong.”

  My smile slipped when I heard her words. “Wrong?” I blinked. “Wait… You mean, you’ve slept with someone?”

  When did she have the time to do that?

  And how come I didn’t know?

  “No,” Emma retorted. “What you said earlier, that I don’t know anything about love.”

  “You’re in love.” I stared even harder, shifting in the sofa to face her fully. “Who? Guy or girl?”

  “None of your beeswax.”

  “I hired you to keep my secrets, not keep secrets from me.”

  “Start getting used to it, then.” Emma gave me a stubborn look that meant I wasn’t getting anything out of her.

  I was stunned at this revelation.

  This was huge, but for some reason Emma hadn’t told me, her closest friend.

  “Doesn’t matter anyway,” she mumbled. “I’m so not his type, I might as well be invisible. He likes girls with long hair and hot bods.”

  He. So it was a man.

  I restlessly tapped my half-empty beer can against the back of the sofa.

  Who the hell was it? The only guy Emma hung out wi
th was me, and occasionally, the other guys on her security team.

  “You’re hot,” I finally pointed out.

  Emma choked again, but it was true. Like I said, I’d have to be blind not to see that she was attractive.

  Then I paused. “Hold on. Is it…me?”

  Emma patted my thigh sympathetically. “In your dreams, pretty boy.”

  Okay, that was a good thing, because we definitely should not be getting involved. Sex, I could get anywhere else, but Emma was one in a million. I wasn’t going to risk ruining what we had for a couple hours of meaningless pleasure.

  Right?

  “How long have you loved him?” I pressed. “Does he know?”

  Emma looked at her lap. Then to the side. Then at the ceiling. Finally, she cleared her throat. “A few years. And no.”

  “Years? And you never told me?”

  “It’s private.”

  “Fuck private, Emma, we know everything about each other. You’ve seen my naked ass before, so how come I don’t know that you’re in love?”

  “Jesus, fine, now you know. What’s the big deal anyway?”

  “The big deal is that you’ve been pining after this guy for years.” I stared at my partner in growing confusion. “Is he the reason you’re still a virgin? Are you saving yourself for him?”

  “No, the reason is this job, which works nocturnal hours and gives me zero personal time. Is there a union I can complain at?”

  “Dream on, querida, some of the shit we do is illegal.” I narrowed my eyes. “This is a fucking crime. You’re missing out on the best part of life while waiting for this guy to notice you.”

  Emma gave me a droll look. “Really. And what could that be, I wonder?”

  “Sex. Obviously.”

  “Obviously,” she drawled. “I should have guessed.”

  “Have you ever had an orgasm?”

  She sputtered. “W-what?”

  I shifted in the sofa to look at Emma directly. “Do you pleasure yourself.”

  Her cheeks went pink. “Why?”

  “Who do you think of?”

  “Not funny, Marlon.”

  “Humor me. Who do you think of?”

  Emma paused, looking away. “Him.”

  I knew that already, but it still irritated me for some reason. “Now imagine only having his cock for the rest of your life. Sounds shitty, doesn’t it?”