by Alison Paige
Cinnamon. The other scents were there, or not, but he’d smelled cinnamon on her for sure. And chocolate. Ester always had a peanut butter sandwich waiting for him, his favorite, or rather his compulsion. But then she’d offer some sort of delicious pastry or cookie for dessert.
He’d noticed Maizie had one of those quaint wicker baskets with the double handle and red-and-white-checkered lining. Was she Ester’s pastry supplier? Ester had never mentioned Maizie’s visits, what she’d brought.
Why would she? Ester knew how he felt. He’d made it perfectly clear all those years ago and Ester was a true, understanding friend.
What he’d sampled of the sugary confections, though, was heavenly. Better than most professional chefs he knew. Did Maizie bake for fun or profit? He wanted to know.
Sweet peat moss, what’s taking Annette so long?
The wall of trees along the country road broke for a wide open field and drew his gaze. He stared, only half noticing the huddle of cows, the barn and corn silos in the distance. His mind wandered too quickly to red hair and long silken legs.
Maizie looked good enough to eat. He’d known her hair was red. He’d remembered that much. But the luminousness, the thickness. Jeezus, he’d had no idea. The color reminded him of autumn leaves, the ones that made the forest seem ablaze with cool fire. And with those thick locks tumbling all the way down to the top curve of her ass, it seemed more a cloak than hair.
Gray tried to blink the vision from his mind and focused again on the paper. He found the name he’d been scanning for in seconds.
“Anthony Cadwick, you old prick.” The man certainly was busy. Harassing Ester in the morning and closing a major real-estate deal in the afternoon. Strong-arming homeowners and manipulating eminent domain laws was his specialty.
Cadwick was every bit the stereotypical wolf Ester had called him. Gray just hoped Ester could keep her wits about her when he came around again. He couldn’t let Cadwick get his hands on the Hood land. Just the thought of housing developments or discount supermarkets so close to his forest made his balls shrink.
Gray knew without looking the moment they turned onto the highway. The limo’s suspension was superior, but the difference between country roads and smooth highway was like cobblestone and glass.
No. Ester had Cadwick’s number, and Gray had her back just in case. Convincing her to sell would be like pushing water uphill for Cadwick. The wildcard was Maizie. Blanking her from his reality had knocked her off his radar completely. She was an “in” for Cadwick that Gray hadn’t considered.
No doubt she held a lot of sway with her grandmother. That alone was a danger he couldn’t tolerate. How easily could Maizie be manipulated? Did she need money? Was she easily seduced? Was she smart or gullible? Did she have skeletons to be exploited, dreams and goals Cadwick could hand to her on a platter?
Gray checked his watch. “Jeezus, Annette.”
Cadwick would do anything to turn a profit and with the kind of Fortune-500 clientele he dealt with, he had a lot of play room. Of course with Maizie’s looks it wasn’t hard to guess which tactic he’d try first.
At seventy-eight Gray looked the same age as Cadwick who was in his midforties. Though Gray was as fit as a man in his twenties. But Cadwick could still turn a pretty head or two. He had Romanesque features, larger nose, broader shoulders, stockier build.
His eyes were a dull brown, his hair as black as Gray’s, once upon a time. But where Gray’s had turned a silvery color, speckled with hints of black, Cadwick’s still held the dark tones, only turning a dirty ash at the temples. He wore it shorter than Gray, neatly trimmed over the ears and a half inch above the collar.
Which one of them was more Maizie’s type? Which one of them could seduce her best? Gray didn’t have a clue. But what if it came to that—to seduction? Could Gray do what needed to be done to keep the Hood land from being sold? Could he seduce Maizie Hood?
His gaze drifted out the window, to the cars falling back as his limo cruised past them. But it was a vision of fiery red hair and shapely long legs that filled his mind.
She’d looked like sinful innocence, if such a thing existed. The nubile body of a woman cloaked in a snow-white sundress spotted with daisies and a contrasting forest-green apron. Her full breasts had strained the dress’s low rounded collar, pressing against the apron so he’d been utterly incapable of shifting his attention enough to read the white lettering on the front pocket.
He’d noticed the sexy little sandals she wore though, and her painted toenails, a shade of red that paled in comparison to her hair. And he’d sure as hell noticed her lips. A ripe hue that had nothing to do with waxy makeup and everything to do with a woman in full bloom.
But beyond all that, it was her eyes that captured him. Green, the color of new alder leaves, they’d looked on him unabashed. He could still feel the heat of her gaze vibrating down his chest to his groin. Sweet peat moss, he’d almost come in his pants at the thrill of it.
Of course she couldn’t know what she was doing. The rules were different in her world, but the challenge had felt just the same. Without a word, she’d questioned his authority, defied it, demanded he prove his place otherwise she’d stand as his equal or dominant. And perhaps she was his equal. Certainly no one else had dared challenge him since he’d been bitten forty-three years ago.
He’d had no idea how much he missed it, how much a part of what he was needed that challenge. The beast in him craved the battle, ached to win his place, to win the female. Maizie’s bold defiance touched the very core of what he was, charged him with adrenaline and a primal lust he was only now fully absorbing.
A growl rumbled in his chest of its own accord, his hands fisted the paper, his eyes squeezed shut fighting the growing need. Blood surged through his body, hot tingling through his skin, pooling in his groin.
His cock grew heavy and thick, straining inside his slacks. He shifted in his seat, but the rub of his clothes against his sex only made the need worse.
“Fuckit.” After a haphazard fold to the paper, he tossed it across the compartment to the opposite seat. The limo was roomy, plenty of space to stretch, but Gray wouldn’t need much to find at least a small taste of relief.
Jeezus, he felt like a hormonal teenager. Couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken advantage of the privacy barrier between him and the driver, the dark windows to the outside world. Had to be more than a year, but this would be the first time he’d indulged alone. The beast in him had simple needs, but when those needs arose they could be all-consuming.
The swirl of emotion that surrounded Maizie in his mind—resentment, anger and pain—mixed with the desires she stirred in him as a man—lust, loneliness and attraction. He had to do something or lose all control.
He leaned back against the thick leather seat, tugging his slacks, trying to loosen the growing tightness. That helped, but his hard cock was still squeezed inside his briefs, and he wanted to do more than just give the Big Guy some room.
He closed his eyes and allowed the image of Maizie’s plump breasts, swelling over the edge of her sundress, to consume his thoughts. He could imagine the full ripe flesh filling his hands, her nipples puckering hard as cherry pits against his palms. God, he wanted to squeeze them, to twist and tease the little nubs with his fingers, with his teeth.
Gray stroked his cock through his slacks, the taut fabric almost providing enough of a barrier to trick his mind into believing it could be someone else’s hand. Her hand. The sensation rippled electric tingles through his balls, along his thighs. The muscles tugged, pressing his cock harder against his slacks, against the stroke of his hand.
He worked his belt and button, unzipping, freeing himself. He wiggled, holding his shaft firm in his right hand, his left hand freeing his tight, way-too-sensitive balls. Jeezus, that feels good. The ache was like he hadn’t come in years.
His fingers shifted, collecting his sac and sending a jolt of pleasure through him so fast a bead of whit
e cream peeked at the head of his cock. He smoothed his hand up the solid trunk, his thumb darting over the head, wiping away the wetness. He gasped when his fingers caressed over the ridge of its head and moaned out loud when he stroked over it again.
“Fuck…me.”
Another long stroke and then another, the velvet skin warmed against his palm, a building need dizzying his head. His right hand worked on instinct, fondling his sac, feeling his balls rolling over his fingers, squeezing, tugging gently and then not so gently.
He couldn’t help it, images of Maizie flashed through his mind. Her long fiery hair brushing his belly while those sweet lips wrapped around his cock, sucked him dry. He could almost feel her tits squeezed between his thighs, bouncing against his balls.
“Maizie…yeah…fuc—”
“Sir?”
“Shit…” Gray let go of his balls to punch the intercom overhead to his driver.
“What?” He barely sounded human, but then again he barely felt human at the moment.
“We’ve arrived at the Cadwick building, sir.”
“Fine.” Gray’s right hand kept a steady stroke, his hips rocking with the rhythm. “Give me…a minute.”
He poked the intercom button and returned his left hand to its previous duties.
His mind zeroed in on thoughts of the fiery woman again. “Maizie…mmm.” Her sexy curves, those daring green eyes.
Gray stroked his cock faster, squeezed his balls. He pictured Maizie sprawled between his legs, her pink tongue teasing the tip of his penis before she took the full length of him between those luscious lips.
Hot and tight, wet and slick, he could almost feel his cock ramming hard into that sexy mouth, her tongue firm against his shaft…
The cell phone buzzed.
“Fuck!” Gray yanked the phone from his breast pocket. “Speak.”
A moment of silence passed, just enough for Gray to regret his harsh tone with his dear Annette. He’d known it was her. The phone only buzzed like that when the call came from the office.
“Mr. Lupo, I have some of the information you requested. I…I thought you’d want it as quickly as—”
“Yes. I’m sorry, Annette. You assumed correctly as usual. What’ve you got?”
Annette cleared her throat, banishing the previously timid tone. “Ms. Maizie Hood has a C+ credit rating while maintaining minimum monthly payments on a sizeable business loan and mounting fees to a Green Acres Nursing Home in Glide, Pennsylvania. She recently applied for a personal loan.”
“Approved?”
“No official word yet, but it doesn’t look good.”
“Hmm… Go on,” Gray said.
“Yes, sir. She has a small one-bedroom apartment forty-five minutes away from the nursing home on the South Side of Pittsburgh for which she pays four-hundred-fifty dollars per month.”
“Extortion.” Gray’s cock softened in his hand.
“Yes, sir. She’s received three traffic citations and two speeding tickets in the last six months. She has a regular gynecologist but not a general doctor. She has fillings in both her lower molars and a prescription for birth-control pills. Her credit-card statements show a good deal of grocery purchases.”
“Interesting.”
“I thought you’d say that. The, ah, business loan is for a small bakery, also on the South Side. Ms. Maizie Hood is listed as sole proprietor. She has two employees. A young woman named Cherri Pi fresh out of the culinary institute and a high school dropout with a commercial driver’s license named—”
“Chocolate Cake?”
“No. Bob.”
“Bob. No last name?”
“Smith, sir. Bob Smith.”
“Perfect. Anything else?”
“No, sir. I’m still waiting to hear back from my sources on her personal affairs. This is all I could find on public record.”
“You said minimum monthly payments on the loan? Is she making the nursing-home payments on time?”
“Yes, sir. But she’s cut it close a few times. Same with the business loan.”
“The business turning a profit?”
“If she doesn’t list her salary, just barely.”
Damn, it was worse than he’d thought. Cadwick wouldn’t even break a sweat buying her. Hell, maybe he’d already charmed her out of hearth and home.
“Call Chuck Woodsmen.”
“Judge Woodsmen?” she asked.
“Yes. Tell him I’m going to need that information we discussed. It looks like we may have to use our last resort after all.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Get back to me.”
“Of course, sir.”
The phone went dead before Gray pushed the disconnect button and shoved it into his jacket pocket. His hard-on completely evaporated, Gray tucked all his precious bits back in place and fastened his slacks. Maizie Hood had officially become business and Gray Lupo didn’t fuck around with his business.
He’d known Anthony Cadwick for twenty-four years. He was a competitive, backstabbing, envious prick who thought he was a lot smarter, a lot better looking, and a lot more deserving than he ever was. Which basically meant that outside of himself, Gray didn’t know anyone more dangerous.
If Gray wanted a chance in hell of protecting everything that he cared about, he’d have to play this on the sly. Find out how far Cadwick had already weaseled his way into the Hoods’ good graces, which meant Gray would have to do a little competitive weaseling of his own.
He punched the intercom button to his driver. “I’m getting out.”
Chapter Two
“Mr. Cadwick, please.”
The too-thin model-esque secretary pursed her lips, her gaze taking him in as though he was the main course at an all-you-can-eat buffet. “And you are?”
“Gray Lupo.”
She straightened, doe-brown eyes widened. “Oh. I’ll let him know right away, Mr. Lupo.”
Her skinny brows wrinkled when she glanced at the appointment book in front of her. “Oh, shoot. He’s, uhmm, in a meeting. It might take a few minutes, maybe—”
“I’ll wait.” Gray ended the exchange with a curt bow of his chin and turned to the plush leather seating arrangement filling the far side of the outer office.
Cadwick’s personal office was located on the top floor of the Cadwick Enterprises building. The lower floors were filled with various divisions of his company, several thousand employees all owing their daily bread to Anthony Cadwick. Astonishing.
Gray was not without a bit of clout himself. He had no problem gaining admittance to the exclusive floor with the simple mention of his name.
If you didn’t know who Gray Lupo was, you were in over your head. He settled into one of the high-back leather chairs. The room was like any office waiting room, the obligatory ficus plants and ferns—all fake—providing a splash of color.
He snagged the Forbes magazine from the dark wood coffee table in front of him. There were two other magazines on the table, both the same issue as the one he held. He glanced at the magazine’s thick front cover and Anthony Cadwick’s middle-aged face grinned back at him. Red block letters stamped across his forehead.
“Top twenty companies to watch.” Gray snorted and wondered if by watch they meant, keep a suspicious eye. He flipped through the pages to find the lead story. Cadwick had scored a two-page spread. Nice chunk of free advertisement. The prick was doing pretty well for himself.
“Mr. Lupo, Mr. Cadwick can see you now.”
Gray angled his gaze up to the tall secretary standing next to the coffee table. Her endless legs were hidden to the knee by a filmy brown and blue dress that revealed too much of her nonexistent cleavage and long pale arms. Her nut-brown hair hung in waves to an inch past her shoulders. He watched her face, the stillness of it. Not at all unappealing.
“Forgive my rudeness,” he said. “I didn’t ask your name.”
Her shoulders shifted back, a genuine smile stretched her cheeks. Her teeth were too big, grin t
oo wide, face too large. She was pretty up-close but from a distance she could be stunning. Perfect runway looks. “Alicia. Alicia Sanders. And can I say it’s an honor to meet you, sir. I mean, I’ve seen your name like everywhere. In the Fortune 500 and Time and Newsweek and—”
“Yes. Thank you, Alicia.” Gray pushed to his feet, ending the fan-girl gush. He pulled a business card from the breast pocket of his jacket and pressed it into her palm, holding her hand in both of his.
“Go here Monday. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Seriously? I mean… Thank you. Really. I do some modeling and I’d die to snag a contract with the agency your company owns—”
“Read the card, Alicia.”
She flipped the card over. “No shit? You are awesome, Mr. Lupo. Thank you, thank you.”
“I didn’t hand you a contract, Alicia, just a shot at one.” Gray straightened his tie. “That’s the CEO of Bad Wolf Modeling. He’ll know the card came from me. Take it in Monday morning. Be prepared for anything they may want you to do, photo shoot, go-see, interview.”
“You bet. I’ll be there, for sure.” She was literally bouncing on her toes, cradling the card as though it was the golden ticket to the chocolate factory.
“Alicia? Shall we go see Mr. Cadwick now?”
“Oh, shoot. Yeah.” She cleared her throat, all signs of giddy fan-girl vanishing. “This way, Mr. Lupo.”
Rock stars had women throwing their panties at them. Men like Gray got résumés and head shots. He rarely guaranteed a job, but always allowed for the chance at one. Bad Wolf Inc. was twice the size of Cadwick Enterprises and far more diverse. The odds were pretty good he had openings if a person had the balls to ask him.
Alicia pushed open both thick wood doors as she led the way, no doubt on orders from Cadwick. It was much more of a grand reveal that way.
Four of the outer offices could fit easily inside this one and have room to spare. Cadwick sat at his desk, reminiscent of something you’d find in the Oval Office, a wall of windows and the Pittsburgh cityscape as his backdrop. Nice, if you liked that kind of thing.