“Too much?”
“No. That feels— Ugh. Absolutely marvelous.”
Both fingers sunk deep at the same time he seated his cock.
“Ohmigod!”
He worked her with sure, firm strokes that drove her faster and faster to orgasm.
This time there was no calculated vault into a starry stratosphere. Her escalating climax latched on to a shooting star and catapulted her into a wondrous kaleidoscope environment that no amount of marijuana could come close to duplicating. Not that she was an expert on hallucinogenic drugs but, hell, she had gone to college.
His cock pulsed with his ejaculation and the last thing she remembered was him lovingly turning her over and lowering his head between her limp thighs to make delicious love to her with his mouth. She vaguely recalled arching her back to give him better access or how the agonizingly sensual flicks of his tongue as he toyed with her distended clit made it stiffen and unbelievably sent her spiraling into yet another orgasm. Soft. Subtle. This climax allowed her to fall gently into the folds of an exhausted sleep.
Hours later, light streaming into her bedroom through her massive one-way privacy windows, she woke up alone, the sheets next to her rumpled and starkly cold.
Pierce was gone and she had the scary feeling that something other than Pierce’s body was missing.
They’d been closer before they’d started having sex. She thought they’d be even closer after the intimacy they’d shared. She didn’t know why he was seemingly distancing himself from her. What had changed? Worse, she feared there was nothing she could do to fix it.
Chapter Sixteen
Standing in the massive living room of the sprawling home Pierce had been raised in, Heather laid light fingertips onto his thick wrist. The emotional chasm between them seeming to widen with each day that passed. “Are you going?”
“Yes, I’m going to see my mother. It’s time to lay the past to rest.”
She hesitated before asking, “If you’d like, I’ll go with you.”
“No.”
She winced, his abrupt refusal shooting a barbed arrow straight through her heart. He didn’t even look at her. Just stared down at the flowing-script letter in his hand as if it was a coiled rattler poised to strike.
“I don’t need handholding.”
Yes, he did. More than he knew. And I want to be the woman who provides it, damn it.
“Besides, I don’t know what I’ll be walking into.”
Didn’t he know it didn’t matter what he encountered, she merely wanted to be there for him? Sure, he was tough, but even the strongest man had his vulnerable spots. Whether Pierce realized it or not, his mother was his weakness. “But—”
“Please, Heather. Leave it alone.”
He glanced her way. Finally. She was careful to turn down the wattage of sympathy she knew would be gleaming from her eyes to what she hoped was only a glow of deep concern. If there was anything that had imprinted itself on her brain from their childhood, it was that Pierce had zero tolerance for being pitied. “I—”
“Look, I know you’re trying to help. But I think it’s best if you leave now.”
No soothing quirk of his full lips to soften the blunt request. No affectionate brat tagged on the end. Did he even know how long it’d been since he’d used her pet name? She did. The day they’d left the countryside. It had been three weeks since his father’s funeral and he was still being surly and distant despite the efforts of those who loved him to pull him out of whatever dark funk he was in. The man she’d given herself to so unreservedly a few weeks ago was gone and she desperately wanted him back.
She took a deep breath. “S…sure.” She squared her shoulders. “Call me if you need anything. Even if it’s just to talk.”
She left the room, entered the hall and let herself out quietly, shutting the large black front door behind her. She didn’t go to her car right away. Out on the wraparound veranda, she took several huge, calming breaths and unclenched her fists. She tried to excuse his abrupt rejection. He was confused. His well-ordered world had just spiraled into a whacked-out tailspin. But it was just so hard to get past the hurt of his rejection.
She hadn’t told anyone that one of the owners of the marketing firm she’d worked at in New York had called earlier today with an offer to return. He’d said they’d give her time to think it over, and when she was ready to talk, they’d arrange everything.
She wouldn’t make any rash decisions. She didn’t want to give up on Pierce, but if things continued the way they were going…
She drew another breath, let it out slowly. It didn’t help. Her vision blurred, and through watery eyes, she hurried down the four tiered steps that spilled onto the curved brick drive, barely making it to her car before the first tear fell.
Pierce tossed the letter from his mother onto the smudge-free glass coffee table and raked a hand through his hair. He didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him and the last person he should be taking his frustration out on was Heather. Before his father’s death, all the puzzle pieces of Pierce’s life seemed put together nice and tight. Now the foundation he’d based his opinions on was totally fucked up. And he didn’t know what was right or wrong anymore. And until he figured it out, he felt it was best to keep everyone at a distance.
It might sound horrible, but he really didn’t give a flying fuck his father was gone. He hoped the emotionless, mean-spirited bastard was toasting his old withered balls in Hell.
He walked over to the ornate mahogany sidebar and poured himself a hefty amount of Crown Royal. His first swallow from the weighty crystal glass emptied it by half.
As sole heir, he’d inherited everything. Including some of the headaches his father had left behind. Like the now-shaky partnership of the business empire he’d built because the self-centered prick had been screwing his partner’s wife for the past ten years.
Pierce ran a thumb over the intricate etching on the glass he held and shook his head. Poor Bruce. But his father’s business partner and friend had always been a fair, reasonable sort and once he’d dealt with the issue of his wife’s betrayal, Pierce was fairly certain he and Bruce would work well together to make the company solid and its employees secure in their jobs. Had it been only his old man’s face he’d be spitting into, Pierce would just break the company down and sell it off, but the people who worked there and their families didn’t deserve to end up on the losing end because there was no love lost between his father and him.
Wealthy in his own right, Pierce had arranged for his share of the company to go into a trust for his children. In love or not, he’d always thought to marry one day and have kids of his own. Presently, that elusive dream seemed more attainable. And he knew his feelings for Heather, confused as they were, played a major part in making that distant plan a reality.
His mind settled in that regard, he turned his attention to the more immediate problem. His mother.
He’d never confessed to anyone that prior to graduating high school, she’d contacted him. Asked to see him. Wanted to explain the circumstances behind why she’d left without taking him with her. And Pierce had been close to saying yes until she’d started rambling on about him getting to meet his three half-siblings, especially the oldest girl, Janis, who she’d had a little over two years after she’d left. At the time, it had hurt like hell to think she’d replaced him so soon after leaving him behind, so he’d hung up on her.
A dumbass, immature thing to do. But he hadn’t realized until years later when he’d had a little life experience under his belt.
He took another sip of the smooth Canadian whisky and moved to stand in front of the large bay window overlooking the impeccably groomed side garden.
Five years ago, he’d gone out on a bid for a major house renovation. The house’s owner had turned out to be an old friend of his mother’s. When he’d gotten back the signed agreement for the job, there’d been a slip of paper clipped to the first page that contained his mother�
��s email address.
After a couple of weeks and some very serious thought about what he’d say, he sent her an email containing an apology for hanging up on her and a request to reconnect. He’d never received an answer, so he assumed she must be content in her new life without him and gave up trying to get in touch with her.
Now, a week after his father’s death, he’d received a letter from his mother. Immersed in a ton of paperwork and legal details regarding the transfer of all his father’s various holdings and assets into Pierce’s name, he hadn’t had time to consider answering. And hadn’t shown the letter to anyone until today when Heather had stopped over and he’d shared the information with her.
Taking another sip of his drink, he walked over to where he’d tossed the letter and picked it up. At the bottom of the page, his mother had included her phone number.
Downing the rest of the Crown Royal, he set the empty glass on the table with a click and dug his cell phone out of his pocket.
* * * * *
Five days had gone by since Heather had spoken to Pierce in his living room. Since then, not a word from him. She’d learned from her brothers he’d left the day before to see his mother.
Staring at her cell on the kitchen counter, she wrapped her arms around herself to stave off the temptation to call him.
She turned. Her spiraling staircase to the second floor came into view.
She thought back to when they’d last made love. The night he’d taken her anally.
She momentarily closed her eyes, blew a dejected stream of breath through her nose and then turned back to the black screen on her cell phone.
Would that be the last memory she’d ever have of them making love?
Determined it not be, she snatched up her cell, tapped the screen a couple of times and waited for Pierce to answer. “Hi.”
“Hi, Heather.”
Was it her imagination or was his voice a bit flat, resigned? Like someone who wasn’t exactly thrilled to be talking to the person on the other end. “Ummm. Quinn told me you left to see your mom yesterday. I was just wondering how it’s going.”
“Actually, I haven’t gone over yet. I spent the night in a nearby hotel. Needed to do some thinking about what I want to get out of the encounter.”
“The offer to go with you is still open. It’s not too late for me to drive up. Join you. It’s only a few hours’ drive.” She bit her lower lip, hoping she didn’t sound as desperate as she felt.
There was a long pause. “Actually, I already called her and told her I’d be over in about fifteen minutes.”
And of course he couldn’t call his mom and say he’d be over later. “No problem. Hope the visit goes well.”
“Thanks. Well. Better get going.”
“Okay, bye.”
“Bye.”
Heather disconnected and carefully placed her cell back on the counter. It was either slow, controlled moves or fling it at the wall.
Guess the last memory of them making love would be when he’d unexpectedly showed up at her door.
So what was she supposed to make of that?
A grief fuck? Hated or not, the elder Layton was still his parent. In some hidden corner of his brain Pierce might harbor a tiny speck of affection for the old prick. The chances were slim, but not impossible.
A mercy fuck? Some unfinished ass-fuck business for Pierce?
Whatever the hell it was, it had all the markings of a farewell fuck.
* * * * *
Visiting an old acquaintance who worked in a hair salon not far from University Circle, Heather decided to grab a coffee and pastry at one of her favorite hangouts, McLafferty’s coffee shop, before heading home.
As she walked toward the entrance, she did a double take.
Yep, that was Pierce. But who was the young attractive woman he was sitting with at one of the corner tables?
Jealousy spiked.
Heather’s heart clenched. He didn’t want to be with her, but he had time for other women?
No. No. No. I am not going to get unhinged like one of those dimwitted heroines in romance novels that went off half-cocked and blew a perfectly good relationship because of a dumb misunderstanding.
That thought in mind, she opened the door and stepped into the warm interior and took a deep breath of strong aromatic coffee and fresh-baked pastry.
Her stomach growled as she walked past the cashier with a friendly wave. Heather had barely turned the corner that led into the seating area when she stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of the woman leaning over to put her arms around Pierce.
“I could get to love you,” the woman said sweetly. The proclamation loud enough, even in the crowded shop, to carry to where Heather was standing. Their backs to her, they couldn’t see her. But she had a clear view of them over one of the few empty tables in the room.
Swallowing her heart, and bucking up her courage, determined to cling to her faith in Pierce and that he’d never hurt her this way, she took a hesitant step forward.
“Amazingly, I think I could get to love you too, sprite.” He wrapped his arms around the woman and returned her affectionate squeeze.
Heather spun on her sandals, nearly slipping out of one and, with as much dignity as she could muster, walked out the door.
Time to seriously consider the job offer in New York.
Hong Kong would’ve been better.
Sure, she’d miss her dad and brothers. A lot.
She sighed heavily, blinking away tears. The wind cool enough to excuse her watery eyes as she headed down the street where she’d parked her car. Not that she cared who saw her crying as long as it wasn’t the cheating asshole in the coffee shop. But was it really cheating when they really had no firm commitment. She shook her head. Okay, she was royally mad at Pierce, but more pissed at herself. She’d known what she was getting herself into, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like a sonuvabitch.
She reached her candy-apple-red ‘Vette, took another bracing breath, settled in and cranked the engine over. Fighting the urge to peel away from the curb, she eased out into the late morning traffic. Getting pulled over by a cop and paying a hefty fine would only add insult to injury and she sure as hell didn’t want to fuck up the day more than it already was.
Once on the road, she activated her Bluetooth and placed a call to one of the founding partners at The Halo Group in New York.
Chapter Seventeen
After leaving McLafferty’s, Pierce barely opened the door to the construction company’s office and guided his sister Janis across the threshold when he caught a right cross to the chin that set him on his ass.
“Mother fuck!” He shot a quick “Sorry” his sister’s way and glared up at Justin who stood over him with fists clenched and face set in angry lines. “What the hell was that for?” he demanded as he gripped the tip of his chin and tentatively worked his sore jaw to make sure it still functioned.
“One stipulation,” Justin spat, nostrils flaring. “We gave you one goddamn stipulation. Don’t hurt our sister. You’ve got a lot of damn nerve bringing that…” He jabbed an angry finger at the petite woman standing silent in wide-eyed shock. “Her here. Heather told us about seeing you two at McLafferty’s coffee shop. All cozied up. Talking shit like deepening the relationship. Get the fuck up.” As Pierce had done before, Justin tossed an apology in the female’s direction. “Now that I’ve had my turn, Quinn can take his shot at your worthless unreliable ass.”
Pierce held up a hand. “Just hold up a minute, asshole.”
“Jesus.” Janis’ shocked feminine voice drew the men’s attention. “I thought you said they were the brothers you never had. No wonder you decided to come see your real family.”
Justin glared at her. “Stay out of this, you…you—”
“Sister?” Hands on well-rounded feminine hips, she stepped over Pierce’s legs to plant herself protectively between him and Justin.
Had he not been so pissed, Pierce would’ve laughed a
t the shocked expressions on the other two men’s faces as they stared at the five-foot-four pissed-off pixie glowering at them.
“Sister?” Two deep male voices rose in shocked unison.
“Yeah, you dumb asses. My sister.”
“Holy shit.” Quinn grimaced. “Sorry.”
“Yeah, sorry, dude.” Justin looked as if he’d been poleaxed as he eyed the little tigress staring him down.
“Yes, Sister,” she confirmed with clear drawn-out enunciation. “And if you attempt to lay hands on my brother again, I feel it’s only fair to warn you I have a black belt in taekwondo, and as I have a match coming up in a month, I wouldn’t mind a little practice taking out a couple of kneecaps. So back the hell up, buster.”
She swung a fierce gaze Quinn’s way next. Pierce noted the man was trying very hard not to smile. A good sign that the tension in the room was easing up a bit.
“And you.” She jabbed a finger in the center of Justin’s big chest. “Take a single threatening step toward my br—”
“Whoa, little lady,” he said, for which he got a further narrowing of her eyes. “Just a small misunderstanding.”
“Small?” She took a menacing step forward.
Justin took a step back.
“Hey, hold on. Sorry,” Quinn said as the brothers threw up their hands in supplication.
“Yeah. It’s all good.” Justin glanced down at Pierce. “Just a light tap. Right, buddy?”
Smarting chin aside, Pierce fought hard not to laugh. Janis’ black belt claim was a whopping exaggeration, since she was only a green belt, but as state champ in her division, she was on the fast track to getting her coveted black belt. “I’d heed her warning if I were you.”
When Janis shot a quick look his way, he worked his jaw in an exaggerated manner, gaining a look of sympathy and earning the other two men another hard glare.
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