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Beneath These Chains

Page 17

by Meghan March


  He tilted my chin up, his eyes meeting mine. “Did I get the girl, Elle?”

  I nodded. “But when I tell you the rest, I’m not sure you’re going to want to keep her.”

  “There’s not a damn thing you could tell me that would make me let you go.”

  “Even if I told you Denton said I had to drop you and quit this job.”

  Lord’s expression turned hard. “Fuck that dick. You’ve never bowed down to him in your life, so why the hell would you start now?”

  “Because he’s going to throw my mother out on the street if I don’t.”

  Lord’s head reared back, but his arm never loosened. “What the fuck kind of threat is that?”

  “I don’t know. He seems to have reached the end of his patience with Snyder women.”

  “His loss.”

  The way Lord summed it up was so simple. So final. But he didn’t understand the whole of it.

  “But then she becomes my issue.”

  Lord’s jaw tensed. “She’s your ma, not an issue.”

  “I know, but she’s got a lot of issues, and they’re going to all become mine.”

  “Do you have any idea what I’d give to have been your age when my ma was spiraling out of control? When she needed someone to pick her up and get her help so she didn’t keep on the path that ended with her dead in a gutter?” He shook his head. “I couldn’t save her because I was just a kid. But you can save your ma, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

  His certainty. His conviction. His heartbreaking confession. They all reinforced what I knew I needed to do. Tell Denton the dick to go fuck himself and help my mother find a way off the rocky path she’d slid down. But how was she going to take the news that her marriage was ending because I was selfish enough to not want to give up Lord? Because that was ultimately how I expected her to see it. That was how I had to be prepared for her to see it. She would never forgive me for destroying her life—but I could live without her forgiveness; I just couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do everything in my power to save her.

  I squared my shoulders, determination filling me. “That’s exactly what we’re going to do.” I looked up at Lord’s gorgeous face. “How are we going to do it exactly?”

  His smile was small, but it hit me right in the chest. My heart expanded with his approval.

  “I’ve got a friend who runs a rehab program. She’ll be able to help us out.”

  “Rehab?”

  Lord stroked my back, as if preparing me for the bomb he was going to drop. “You know we can’t do this ourselves, right? To get her well again, we need professionals. She’s sick, Elle. She doesn’t drink like that because it’s something she can control.”

  Logically, I knew this, but part of me was stuck in the head of the teenager who’d been so devastated that my mother had moved on before my father was even cold in his tomb. Everything she’d done had seemed intentional at that point, including her descent into the bottle. It was something I’d spent a whole lot more effort avoiding thinking about than I had spent analyzing rationally.

  “I know you’re right. It’s just … it’s hard to think of my mom in rehab. That’s where other people go.”

  Lord smoothed his hand up and down my back again. “This place is nice, and if you’ve got the cash to send her there, I don’t think you’ll be disappointed by the treatment she gets.”

  “I’ve got the cash. For whatever she needs.” I flicked my eyes up to his. “Denton said she signed a prenup. She’s going to lose everything when I tell him I’m not toeing his line. She’s never going to forgive me, because while I’ve got cash, I don’t have the kind of money Denton does. I don’t have what it takes to support her in a big house with all the staff without draining myself dry fairly quick.”

  “She’ll have to learn to adjust.”

  “Or she’ll remarry again.” I hated to say it, but I also had to recognize it was a possibility.

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, let’s focus on getting her better, okay?”

  “Okay.” I hauled in a deep breath. “Now I just have to tell her. She’s going to lose her mind.”

  “Let Denton break the news. He’s the dick who’s going to leave his wife. We’ll be there to pick up the pieces and deal with the aftermath.”

  “Okay,” I said again. “But do I wait out his timeline, or do I just call him right now and tell him to fuck off?”

  Lord considered for a moment. “I say we use the time we’ve got to line up our next steps. No need to force his hand.”

  Another thought occurred to me. “What if he doesn’t follow through? What if he decides not to leave her?”

  “Then we come up with another plan to get her away from him.” He smiled. “Even if it means getting another picture of your ass in the paper.”

  I reached down and touched the side of my hip where my tattoo was healing and starting to itch. “Another one? Well … there is something I was thinking of…”

  Lord slid his hands over my ass and pulled me tight against him again. “Uh oh, you’ve got the bug now. Next thing you know, you’ll have thug life tatted on your knuckles—in pink.”

  I reached up and shoved at his shoulder. “Only if you get true love on yours in purple.”

  He shook his head at me, and tucked another section of my hair behind my ear. “You feeling good about this plan?”

  I pushed up onto my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his jaw. “I’m feeling good about this plan and a lot of other things right now.”

  “Good. I’ll make a few calls before we head home.”

  Home. Things were moving faster than the speed of sound between Lord and me, but I was already just as comfortable in his space as I was in my own. And the thought didn’t terrify me.

  “That sounds perfect. I’ve got a few other things I want to do before closing.”

  “We’ll swing by the market on the way, because I’m cooking for you tonight.”

  Men should never underestimate how sexy they look in front of a stove. Or a cutting board. Or a sink filled with bubbling dishwater.

  For the record, I’d offered to help, but Lord had shooed me back around the other side of the counter and refilled my glass of sparkling water. I’d been shocked that he’d had “fancy water,” as he’d called it, and the gesture was noted and appreciated.

  “I really can help,” I protested. It was a weak protest though, because I was utterly content sipping Perrier and staring at his ass as he reached up to grab a bottle of spices out of the cupboard.

  Lord was sautéing the trinity in a pot, and it already smelled delicious. You’d think jambalaya would get old living in NOLA, but trust me, it never did. Lord claimed that he had a special tweak that made his jambalaya the best I’d ever taste.

  “This kitchen only needs one cook right now, and I’ve got it covered.” He glanced over his shoulder at me. “You just relax, sweet thing.”

  “Why do you call me that?”

  He paused before turning back to the stove and stirring the pot. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “I just wondered if there was a specific reason. I mean, you’ve been calling me that since the first day I showed up looking for a job.”

  “That day is still burned into my brain. Especially you in that green dress. You haven’t worn it again since. Probably a good thing because I would’ve bent you over the couch and fucked you until you couldn’t balance on those sexy heels of yours.”

  “The dress is in the hamper at my apartment. I need to make a trip to the dry cleaner before we can make that fantasy a reality.”

  “You’ve always gotta tempt me, don’t you?”

  “Keeps you on your toes.”

  “I’ll keep you on your toes,” he replied as he grabbed the bowl of sausage he’d already browned before transferring it to the pot and adding the stock and whatever spice was in the unmarked bottle. He stirred and covered the pot before turning to face me again and grabbing his
beer off the counter. He’d tried to tell me he hadn’t wanted a beer, but I’d insisted. Just because I didn’t drink didn’t mean he had to abstain.

  “I’m sure you will. But first, you’ve got to tell me what the secret ingredient is in this magnificent jambalaya of yours.”

  Lord shook his head. “That secret only goes to family.”

  Family. Something I’d avoided thinking about for a long time, and now it was in the forefront of my mind. Not just because of my mother, but because of the guy cooking me dinner. He’d lost his, and then found his way back to the only part of it he had left. His outlook was so different from mine, and there was a lot I could learn from him. Hell, I had learned a lot from Lord.

  I just wished I had something to offer him as well. Instead of insight, all I had was my trust fund and myself. And Lord wasn’t the kind of guy who placed much value on money. But he did value me for some crazy reason.

  “Why did you let me stay? At the pawnshop? You could’ve told me no.”

  “I did tell you no.”

  “True. But you could’ve kept telling me no.”

  Lord paused, bottle almost to his lips again. “Why would I have wanted to? You impressed the hell out of me. You knew things that even in two years I hadn’t found the time to learn. You’re smart, you work hard, and now the place wouldn’t be the same without you. You’re prettier to look at than Mathieu, too.”

  I sipped my water and let his compliments—and the warmth they incited—roll through me.

  The idea of being valued for more than what I had in the bank was a novel one.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  His brow furrowed. “For what?”

  “For giving me a chance.”

  “I think we’re even. Although, I probably got the better end of the bargain—I got an ace employee and a hell of a girlfriend.”

  I was lifting my glass when he said the words. His blue eyes were intense and focused, as if daring me to dispute the label. The old Elle would’ve freaked at the thought of being pinned down. But I didn’t. I raised my glass toward Lord.

  “To us,” I said.

  The relief that swept over his features, and the contentment that settled in its place, told me I’d said exactly the right thing, even if it had only been two words.

  Lord clinked the neck of his bottle against my glass. “To us.”

  The rattling of the lid of the pot broke the moment, but it was a done deal.

  Lord and I? We were an us.

  Happiness. Contentment. Downright fucking triumph.

  I felt all of those things when Elle didn’t turn and run the moment I called her my girlfriend. Not that I would’ve let her get far—I could picture a wrestling match in the living room if she’d made a break for it—but it was the principle of the thing. She trusted me, and we were a team and headed in the same direction. The only other person I’d had on my side, unequivocally, was my brother. Now that Con was with Vanessa, our bond hadn’t lessened, but it had changed with his shifting priorities. As it should. And now, for the first time in my life, I wanted what he had with someone. I wanted it with Elle.

  “You’re seriously not going to let me help at all?” she asked as I loaded our plates into the dishwasher.

  “Finish your coffee, woman. I’ve got plans for you.”

  “Plans, I like the sound of that.”

  I smiled as Elle downed her after-dinner coffee.

  “You’ll like the reality of it even better,” I said. “Because I’m ready for my dessert.”

  From the couch, Elle raised an eyebrow. “Dessert, huh? Wonder what that could be?” She set her empty mug on the coffee table.

  I dried the last dish and shoved it in the cupboard before tossing the towel on the counter. “Guess you’re gonna find out right now.” Stalking toward her, I held out a hand. “We’re moving this to the bedroom.”

  Elle, sexy siren that she was, spread her legs a few inches. “Isn’t the couch good enough?”

  I leaned down and grabbed both hands and tugged. As soon as she was standing, I ducked again, placing my shoulder near her stomach and tossed her up.

  “Whoa, hold on.”

  I palmed her ass as I strode toward the bedroom. “Holding on.”

  Elle’s giggle softened her words. “You know that’s not what I meant. What if I’m not in the mood to be manhandled?”

  “I don’t care if you’re not in the mood to be manhandled, as long as you’re in the mood to be Lord-handled.” I slowed as I approached the bed and lowered her down with a bounce.

  Her gorgeous red hair was mussed, and her eyes shone. Wanting to see her more clearly, I flipped on the light on the side table.

  “Fuck, you’re beautiful, Elle.”

  Her smile was small. “You’re not too bad yourself, pawn star.”

  I dropped to my knees in front of her and wrapped a hand around both ankles before sliding them up to her knees. Coasting my palms along her thighs as I pushed her dress up to her waist, I paused when my thumbs skimmed the edge of her red lace underwear.

  “There’s a good reason I don’t let myself see you in your underwear before we go to work in the morning, because I’d spend all damn day thinking about them, and we’d never get a thing accomplished.”

  “I’m not seeing how that’s a bad thing at least one day a week. We still haven’t tested out the couch or the desk in the office.” Her breath hitched on the last word because I’d slid my thumb under the lace.

  “These come off now, and the only reason I’m not ripping them off with my teeth is because I want to see you bent over that fucking desk, skirt flipped up, with your sassy red panties teasing me.”

  I tugged them down her legs, until there was nothing separating me from paradise.

  “Perfect. So fucking perfect. I could eat your pussy for every meal and never get tired of it.”

  Chill bumps prickled Elle’s skin, but she didn’t reply.

  Spreading her with my thumbs, I didn’t hesitate, I dove in—licking, sucking, tasting, teasing. Elle bucked and writhed against my face, and I teased her entrance with two fingers before plunging them inside.

  Every time. Every damn time the man set me off like a rocket. I was boneless on the bed as Lord rose to his feet. He always took care of me first and rarely let me take the lead. Today, that was going to change. When he leaned over the bed, I sat up and reached for his buckle.

  “Whoa—”

  “No. I want to give you at least a fraction of what you give me. And that means you’re going to stand right here and let me.”

  Lord’s hand cradled my jaw. “You want to suck my dick?”

  I nodded.

  “Then I’m sure as hell not gonna argue.” His thumb brushed over my lips. “Open. See how sweet you taste.”

  I did, and his thumb pressed inside. The salty sweetness of my own flavor burst on my tongue. Spurred on by the naughty move, I was even more determined to give him a night he’d never forget. Tomorrow, the entire world could fall to pieces, but we had tonight. This was more than sex. This was us. This was everything.

  He withdrew his thumb, and I tugged at his button and zipper until I palmed his cock through his boxer briefs. Not wanting to waste time, I shoved both down his hips.

  “I hope I don’t sound crazy when I tell you I can’t wait to get my hands on your cock.”

  Lord’s fingers threaded through my hair, and he released a low laugh. “I’ll never complain about that. Ever.”

  Wrapping a hand around the base, and always amazed when my fingers didn’t touch, I lowered my head. But a tug on my hair held me back from my prize. I looked up at Lord, and his expression was hot and determined.

  “You want to give me what I need?”

  “Yes,” I breathed, anticipation ratcheting up inside me.

  “Then I want to fuck your mouth the way I’ve been dying to since the first time I saw you. You were standing in a crowd at Con’s party, and you had these red-as-sin lips. Every time you
took a drink, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I wanted those lips. Wanted you. That night, I jacked off to the thought of fucking your sexy mouth and coming down your throat.”

  I was already wet from the orgasm Lord had wrung from me, but now I was soaked.

  Holy. Shit.

  Again, Lord’s thumb trailed along my bottom lip. “Open. I want to see those lips wrapped around my cock.”

  My mouth opened, and my hand fell away from his cock as he fisted it and held it to my lips.

  “Lick the tip.”

  My nipples puckered, and I followed his orders. I circled the head, catching the salty precum on my tongue.

  Lord’s fingers tightened in my hair, and I knew he was holding back. I didn’t want that. I wanted him to let go. I reached around and grabbed his ass with both hands—fuck, it was a nice ass—and tried to pull him forward.

  “Not until I’m ready,” he growled. “And I’m going to savor this.”

  Slowly, inch-by-inch, Lord fed his cock into my mouth. He was a big man, almost an uncomfortable fit. I relaxed my jaw, eyes darting up to take him in.

  The absolute worship on his face destroyed any hint of discomfort I might be feeling.

  “So fucking beautiful.”

  And then he began to fuck my face. Hands in my hair, a thumb brushing the hollow of my cheek as he slid in and out—it was intense … and amazing.

  I reached up and cupped his balls, and his groan vibrated through his body.

  “Fuck, I wanted this to last longer…” He unleashed a growl and threw his head back. “You’re gonna swallow me down. Every last drop.”

  Hell yes I am, I thought. I’d take it all. For him.

  He yelled my name as he came.

  And I took it all.

  Lord stared down at me, both thumbs skimming my cheeks as I pulled away. The intensity on his face had morphed into … something I wasn’t sure I was interpreting correctly.

  He sat down beside me and pulled me across his lap.

  “Don’t know how I got so lucky, but I’m not letting you go. Whatever happens, Elle, you’re mine, and you’re staying mine.”

  My words came without thought: “Like I could ever be anyone else’s.”

 

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