“Listen, Dad, I’m going to hit the road now.” I don’t say anything about when I’ll see him again because I honestly don’t know.
His only response is a brisk nod as he pushes the chair back and rises to his feet. I’m about to leave when I’m halted by a thought. I turn back to him. “And have the guts to tell mom about this yourself. She shouldn’t have to hear it from anyone else.”
I don’t wait for a response, I just haul ass out of there.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The good thing about waking up from a dreamless sleep is that your mind is a blank slate for the first few moments of consciousness. No worries, no heartache, no problems. The day and the future hold infinite possibilities.
Then yesterday’s events come crashing down on me, knocking me back to my reality. And then the future compresses my chest with its sheer weight, size and complexity. Beyond the financial tsunami—as if that’s not enough—what is this whole mess going to do to me and Troy? Can our families’ close relationship survive a stress test like this?
Last night, after Vic had shakily pulled herself together, we’d returned downstairs to enjoy dinner with the rest of the family. It hadn’t been easy pretending that all our lives weren’t tearing at the seams stitch by stitch, but we’d done it.
A shower does little to brighten my mood or my outlook on life. I need to talk to Mom and Alan, which means Maureen needs to tell them soon. Like today.
After I finish dressing, I pop my head into my sister’s room to find her bed made and the room empty. Interesting. She usually doesn’t drag herself out of bed until at least ten when she’s home. But then there’s nothing usual about her trip home this time.
“Vic? Mom?” I call out as I take the stairs down to the first floor. In the foyer, I follow the murmur of voices to the living room, where I find Vic and my mom sitting on the sofa and Alan pacing the area rug in front of them.
Their attention turns to me when I enter. My step falters when I see the devastation on my mom’s tear-ravaged face. A sharp glance at Alan reveals his is all worry and torment.
I inhale a deeply fortifying breath.
They know.
***
The first thing I do when Alan’s car pulls out of the driveway is head to the kitchen and call my agent. Of course when I’m the most desperate to talk to her, she doesn’t pick up. I end up leaving her a long rambling message, basically begging her to get me more work.
Things are worse than I feared. Like my sister, on top of his hefty retirement, Alan also put their emergency funds in a low-risk securities account, which means their cushion is gone. He’d assured us that as long as he keeps working, they should be all right, but he can forget about retiring any time in the next thirty years. Alan is fifty-one and he’d planned to retire at sixty.
Now they’re all gone and I’m alone in the house. Mom and Alan have an appointment in Chicago with a lawyer who specializes in cases like theirs, and they’d convinced Vic to go with them. They’ll probably be gone most of the day. And since someone has to be here when Mandy gets out of school, I’m not going anywhere any time soon.
The ring of the home phone startles me out of my thoughts. Troy’s number appears on the caller ID. I snatch it up from its base. “Hey, I was just about to call you.”
“How’re you doing?” he asks in a soft, concerned voice.
I let out a sigh and prop my hip against the counter. “Not so good. How about you?”
“Same.” I hear the weariness in his voice.
“Are you at home?” All I can think about is his poor mother and what she must be going through.
“No.”
“Where are you?”
“Open your door.”
Without giving it another moment’s thought, I dash to the front and throw open the door. In a blur of movement, I’m in Troy’s arms.
“You should have called and told me you were on your way,” I say breathlessly into his warm neck.
Pulling back, he kisses me soundly on the lips. I yank him inside and he closes the door behind him. He breaks the kiss and lightly rests his forehead against mine. “I had to see you or I’d go crazy.”
“I know. That’s exactly how I felt, especially after this morning.” I caress his cheek, loving the rasp of his five o’clock shadow against my palm.
His eyebrows draw together. “What happened this morning?”
“Your mom called Mom. She wanted to tell her before she saw it in the papers.”
Then I fill him in on the rest as we walk to the kitchen and take a seat at the table.
He groans, braces his forearms on his spread thighs, and bows his head when I tell him about my sister. “Fuck fuck fuck.”
I run my hand up and down his back and then up over his nape and through his hair. “I know. I know. She never said anything to me about investing with your dad.” Not that it would have made a difference. I’d have thought it was a great idea.
After a lengthy silence he lifts his head and looks me in the eye. “I talked to my dad this morning.”
My heart starts thumping hard. “And? What did he say?”
Instead of answering, he closes his eyes and shakes his head. My stomach bottoms out.
“Oh my God, he did it.” No longer a niggling doubt, the worst possible scenario has been realized.
Troy swallows hard, nodding slowly.
This is the kind of betrayal you hear about on the news. Or see in the movies. This doesn’t happen to regular people. This doesn’t happen to the people I know and love. How could he do this to us?
Good God, he’s Mandy’s godfather.
My hand falls limply onto my lap as I take a deep breath. “Okay, just give me a minute,” I whisper, my voice cracking. The truth is I’ll need a lot longer than that to digest this.
Troy lets out a bitter laugh, a biting twist to his mouth. “He’s a crook. That’s all there is to say.”
Shocked into silence, I can only stare at him.
His expression soon goes from grim to contrite as he tugs me from my seat and onto his lap. Instinctively, my arms go around him, holding him tight. “God, I’m so sorry, Rosie.” I feel the vibration of his voice against my shoulder. “I don’t want this to change anything between us.”
Worry has etched faint lines around his mouth and between his brows, and all I want to do is erase them. “It won’t,” I assure him with staunch conviction. “What your father did has nothing to do with you. Or us.”
No matter what happens, Troy and I will get through this with our relationship intact. At least, I pray to God we will.
My arms tighten around his neck as I push aside the doubt trying to worm its way into my head, attempting to undermine the foundation of our relationship.
“Maybe there’s some way they can get your parents’ money back. At least some of it if they can’t recover all. I was reading up on financial fraud cases last night. Sometimes the trustee is able to get clients back forty cents on the dollar.”
I was reading up on financial fraud cases too. “Right, but that’s on the high end and extremely rare. In most cases they’re lucky if they get back pennies on the dollar.” I’m usually the glass is half full kind of person, but I’ve learned it’s better to go into certain situations with lowered expectations, that way you won’t be as disappointed.
“I’m hoping for the best.”
“I know but I’m trying to be realistic. And now with Vic tied up in this mess…” I sigh. “I have to do something. Three quarters of a million dollars isn’t pocket change.”
Troy’s head jerks back and his eyes flare wide with shock. “Jesus Christ. She invested that much?”
I nod glumly. After a pause, he lets out a weary sigh and pulls me flush against his chest. After surviving the gamut of emotions and changes the last twenty-four hours has wrought in my life, it’s a relief to be held like this, comforted and sheltered by him.
“I’m so sorry,” he repeats as he plants soft kisses o
n my cheek, my chin, my temple and my neck. I close my eyes, murmuring with every kiss, every touch.
How I need this, and I’m content to bathe in the soothing pleasure of his kisses. But with each second that passes, and as his kisses move to my other cheek and then to the corner of my mouth, the unpleasantness slips away to be replaced by desire.
When he finally reaches my mouth, I press my hand against the back of his head to pull him closer and part my lips.
Troy groans, his tongue slipping easily into my mouth to tangle with mine. Things quickly go from simmer to boiling hot, my skin itching with a need to be as close to him as physically possible.
The kiss we exchange is as deep as one can be, much more than our mouths involved. God, I could kiss him forever. The hand roaming my back moves to the front and tunnels under the snug-fitting cotton tee I’m wearing, coasting up to cup my bare breast.
Without removing his lips from mine, he mutters, “I love that you’re not wearing a bra.”
A lightning bolt of pleasure shoots through me, and has me arching into his hand to show him how much I like it too, but more to show him just how much I love his hands on me.
Between his ragged breathing and my insistent mouth chasing his, he rasps, “Are we alone?”
I nod, my attention purely focused on getting his mouth back on mine as he thumbs my nipple to turgid attention. Moisture pools between my thighs, and in response I begin to wiggle in his lap.
He groans loudly. “Do you know when they’re coming home?”
I rock my hips, by butt mashed against the hard-on in his pants with my name on it. “Later. Not for three or four hours.” My words come out in a breathless rush.
That’s when I feel him relax, and his mouth comes down hard on mine.
Finally. My senses swim as his kiss consumes me. Every inch of my skin feels like it’s been overexposed to the sun. I give him back as good as he’s giving, and it’s all good. Better than good, it’s the best.
With an abruptness that makes me gasp, he’s on his feet and I’m high in his arms. I tighten my arms around his neck.
“Put me down. I’m too heavy,” I say, more than a little turned on by his show of strength but feeling compelled to protest. I’m five-nine, not a petite five-four like Rebecca.
He laughs huskily as he exits the kitchen. “Don’t be silly. You can’t weigh more than a buck twenty.” He doesn’t break a sweat as he strides down the hallway and begins climbing the stairs with me secure in his arms.
“One twenty-five,” I correct.
To that he bounces me higher on his chest, and lands a quick kiss on my lips. “When we get to your room, you have twenty seconds to get those off.” His gaze drifts hungrily down my body, leaving a trail of fiery heat along the way.
In my room, I do him one better, stripping out of my clothes in less than that. Eyes glued on me, he casually tugs his shirt over his head and I’m treated to a tanned chest and six-pack abs. When I move to touch him, he holds up his hand. “Don’t move. Let me just look at you for a second.”
Then his hands go to the button and zip on his jeans. I’m torn between wanting to help him out of his clothes and the desire to enjoy the striptease. Because that’s what he’s doing, teasing me. But there’s nothing slow about it, he’s out of them in record time, his hard-on pointing to true north. Which must be between my legs.
In a blur of motion, our bodies are flush, our lips connected in a kiss that must resemble two of the most insatiable human beings on earth. Devouring is an apt word to adequately describe what we’re doing to each other. My hands want to explore every square inch of his warm, hard flesh.
Walking me back until my upper thighs make contact with the footboard, he cups my butt in his hands. “God, I love this ass,” he says, squeezing both cheeks.
I’m so turned on, my hand trembles as it coasts down his happy trail, and my fingers wrap around his cock.
He hisses on a sharp inhale as his lids abruptly fall to half-mast. “Yes.”
I love the smooth feel of him in my hand, how soft and hard he is at the same time. I love how excited he gets and how he responds to my touch. More than anything right now, I want him inside me.
Grunting, he jerks back his hips, pulling his erection out of my grasp. Before I have a chance to react, he spins me around until I’m facing the side of the bed. His cock is stiff and demanding on my lower back.
“Spread your legs,” he says hoarsely as he nudges his thigh between mine. Another rush of liquid warmth bathes my center. I’m slick and hot and aching.
He matches my moan with another low groan. In a matter of seconds, he rolls on a condom and then slides two fingers down the seam of my sex. Parting me, he torments my clit, rolling the hard bud between his fingers.
I let out an anguished whimper, the insistent throbbing at my core driving me to sexual distraction. I widen my stance and angle my head over my shoulder. “Hurry,” I urge, needy and so ready for him, I’m overdone.
Troy gives a throaty laugh and steadies my hips with his hands. “You like that, huh? Hold on. You’re going to have to wait for it. Wait for it.”
I feel him at my entrance and then…he thrusts, letting out a rumbling growl.
My fingers close around the sheets, and they ball in my clenched hands. I close my eyes because keeping them open would be too much for my senses to handle. I’m on sensory overload.
He pulls back slowly and then slams back in, hard and rough.
“Oh God.” My cry comes out like a sob.
He makes a hmmm noise, sliding his hand around my front to palm my breasts. “Oh yeah.” He toys and pinches my nipples, and the double assault is more than I can stand, having gone without an orgasm for two long, sex-deprived days.
“Faster,” I urge in a breathless pant, feeling the orgasm gaining speed down the second leg of a four-hundred-yard relay.
Faster to Troy must have meant my ass needs to be higher in the air so he can properly pound me to a crippling orgasm that has me seeing stars before sending me into oblivion. And in the process, during the violent contracting of my inner muscles, intelligible sounds and a string of curses rip from his mouth as his release takes over his body and holds him still and taut inside me.
As my contractions slow, he manages two more thrusts before going completely still behind me. Spent, my arm muscles turn to mush and I slump down onto the bed, my head turned to the right.
Sounds of our labored breathing fills the room. I smile the smile of the sexually content and replete. “You’re getting better at this every day,” I murmur.
I feel the vibration of his laugh against my back. “Ditto, sweetheart.” Seconds later, he pulls out of me and then from the sounds of it, gets rid of his condom in my trash. I’m too lazy to move from my current position.
His footfall on the thick carpeting and the depression of the bed signals his return. He rolls me over and pulls me flush against his chest, pushing the damp tendrils off my face.
I smile drowsily at him. “Tell me again why we waited so long to get together? I could have gotten addicted to orgasms during sex a lot earlier.”
He grunts and mock glowers at me. “Don’t remind me.” Then he sighs, a faint smile playing across his lips. “But I’d rather be your last than your first. The way I see it, if we’d gotten together in high school, we’d have missed out on dating other people. Who knows if we’d still be together now. And if we were, would we be wondering what it would be like to be with someone else.”
I can see he’s given this a lot of thought. That wasn’t a thought that just came to him. I do see his point though. “Yeah, I can see that.”
“This way, you’ll be fully able to appreciate what you have since you hooked up with me,” he teases, his eyes dancing.
I pull away from him. “God save me from your ego,” I huff, feigning pique.
As I expected, he wouldn’t let me get far, his grip unyielding as he pulls me back and imprisons me in his arms.
/> I give a happy sigh and snuggle deeper into him. Some prison.
We lay there quietly for a minute, content to just be. Unfortunately, reality pushes its way into our intimate bubble of solitude.
“Are you still going back next week?” I’m sure he’s not but I ask anyway.
He peers down at me. “I want to stay for another week. My mom…”
“Of course. I thought you would.”
“Can you stay?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I need to get back as soon as possible in case Catherine is able to book something for me in the next couple weeks. I could really use the money now.” That’s an understatement.
He doesn’t return my wry smile, staring into my eyes, his expression assured and determined. “We will get through this.” His words are a promise, a vow, and I believe with all my heart that he means it.
Holding on to him tight, I pray that we will.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“Hey, honey, how ya holding up?” There’s genuine concern in my agent’s voice when she returns my call an hour later.
“Could be worse,” I say with a dark laugh. We could be completely broke.
“Listen, you know I’m working harder than ever to book you more spots.” Without waiting for a response, she goes on to say, “I’ve made a few calls, and Playboy is still very interested. The new offer is two hundred grand. But they’ll need an answer by tomorrow morning, and if you can shoot next week, they can get you on the cover of the December issue.”
I cast a wary look at Troy, who’s engrossed in watching SportsCenter on ESPN. We’re cuddled on the coach in the family room waiting for Mandy to get home. Unfolding my feet from under me, I smoothly extricate myself from his embrace and stand. He looks up at me, his brows raised in question.
I give him a placating smile and mouth, “I’ll be right back.” Once I’m across the hall in the living room, I ask Catherine breathlessly, “Did you just say two hundred grand?”
She repeats the offer, going into a bit more detail regarding potential dates and times. She stresses how tasteful the spread will be at least four times in the span of five minutes.
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