Manhattan Millionaire: Book Three in the Kendall Family Series

by Jennifer Ann

  “Wider,” I command, dropping down to my knees on the couch.

  Her breaths are ragged as she spreads her knees as far as the space will allow. I move in quickly, pressing my thumbs to the insides of her thighs, and lick my way along each side of her pussy in a tantalizingly slow rhythm. When I hear her breath hitch and feel the couch dip with the arch of her back, I slip my tongue inside, delighted to discover she’s already sopping wet and tastes even better than in my wildest dreams.

  With her fingers wrapped in my hair, she releases a sound so sexy that I worry my balls will explode and I’ll come all over the couch. “That feels…oh, god.”

  I lap my way up and down her delicate folds, growing harder by the second with her natural scent and the way she twists and moans beneath me. She has me so wound up that I’m not gentle when I pull her clit into my mouth and suck on it until she’s yowling and yelling my name like a curse. Her body becomes rigid as she’s strangling out a final cry with her heels dug into the couch and her pussy arched against my mouth.

  Stroking my fingers along her silky skin, I kiss my way up her body, stopping to take each of her hard nipples in my mouth. She hums in appreciation with a deep, long sound that sends me over the edge. If I don’t fuck her now, I’ll be spewing all over her belly.

  When I start to get up from the couch, her eyes flip open and she grabs me by the waist. “Wait! Where are you going?”

  “Condom,” I grunt in a caveman-like response.

  “I’m on the Pill. Are you clean?”

  Sparing her the details of how Avery knew some of my past and insisted I get tested every month, I simply nod.

  “Then I want to feel you this time,” she tells me, her voice highly seductive. Then with a little smile, she adds, “Please?”

  She’s begging me to fuck her without a condom? At this point, there’s nothing she could say to make me want her any more. Lifting her legs, I slide into her hard and fast, nearly shooting my load when buried balls-deep in her warmth. She yelps and grabs onto the couch as I pound into her, working out my building aggression.

  “Nolan…”

  Just when I fear she’s going to tell me to stop, her voice hitches and she moans the way she had when she climaxed mere minutes ago. The smell of sex and the sounds of my thighs slapping against her ass fill the apartment as I drill her, hard and relentless. I watch as Sofia’s face contorts, eyes closed, mouth lagging. She’s nothing like Avery who’s grossly fragile and too perfect, almost unattainable even when she was mine. Sofia’s a unique kind of beautiful, the kind that’s addictive and you don’t ever let go because you know you won’t find anyone like her again.

  “My beautiful girl…I’m gonna keep you here all day and fuck you until you’re too exhausted to move,” I promise her.

  When her darkened eyes flip open to meet mine and her mouth opens, I fear she’s going to tell me to fuck off. Instead she watches me thoughtfully as the tension in my gut spreads thin. It’s soon replaced by a warming glow all the way down to the base of my balls. When her pussy milks my cock with her own climax, I come hard and fast right behind her, my brain numb to the world as I shoot into her tight pussy.

  Nothing has ever felt as good as Sofia Kendall. I wish there was a way I could keep here all to myself until the end of time, ignoring my problems and the rest of the shitty world.

  Collapsing on top of her, I gulp in deep breaths just as my phone begins ringing. At first I consider ignoring it, but after looking at the screen I realize it’s Grams’s lawyers calling. Though I’d like to avoid making arrangements that will make her death feel final, I’m not some immature asshole who’s going to avoid responsibility. Grams deserves better.

  “Wait for me on my bed,” I tell Sofia, answering the call. “I’m not done with you.”

  Casting me a heated glance as she rises to her feet, she begins to shuffle back to the bedroom. I wipe a hand over my eyes as the attorney answers on the other end. I finally had a shot with Sofia and I feel like I’m fucking it up. Royally. I wanted to show her how much I care about her and want to be with her. Instead I rammed into her like a mindless caveman.

  My emotions are all over the goddamned place, and a lot of it has to do with the fact that in less than 24 hours, I’ll be forced to face my mother and more of her bullshit when I’d rather hide here with Sofia.

  Chapter 14

  SOFIA

  While the partners at my firm were understanding when I explained there had been a death in the family and I needed the next few days off, I feel like I’m shirking too many responsibilities by staying. We’ve literally only stopped ravaging each other long enough to eat a big dinner and sleep a few hours in the night before starting up all over again. I’ve lost count of how many orgasms he’s given me in the past twenty-four hours. Not that I mind in the slightest, but it seems neglectful considering all that’s going on.

  And a nagging voice in my head wonders if this is only something temporary to get him through his crushing heartache. I worry this is nothing more than a dream that will eventually fizzle with the light of a new day.

  I know I have no business telling him how he should feel, but I worry he’s only masking his pain and will make it hit him that much harder later on when I can’t be at his side. Especially when he became rough and domineering in a way I wouldn’t have otherwise imagined.

  As he’s rubbing circles against my clit and licking whipped cream off my stomach late morning of day two, I thread my fingers through his hair and say his name in a gentle voice. “I have to go home at some point to change. You can’t expect me to wear jeans to the memorial service.”

  “I’ve got your back,” he mutters, the whiskers of his beard tickling my skin. “I had Shar pick out a dress and pack you a bag with everything you’ll need. A messenger boy will deliver your things this afternoon.”

  Holy shit, he really has no intentions of letting me leave any time soon. I shift my hips around on the mattress as I debate whether or not now is the time to suggest he’s masking his pain with sex. If we were faced with any other situation, I wouldn’t object to endless rounds with someone as sexy and blissfully accommodating in the bedroom as Nolan. The delightful ache in my bones has been well worth it. But I also don’t want him to resent me later for not saying anything when he’s lost the person who meant everything to him.

  “Can we…talk?” I bite my lip as I wait for his response.

  His dark eyes, lit with challenge, draw up to meet my gaze. “What’s there to talk about?”

  “The only time you’ve mentioned your grandma was on the phone with her lawyers and when you and James decided to postpone his fight. I thought maybe you’d want to play some of her records and tell me more stories of the things you did with her when you were little. I really enjoy hearing you talk about her.”

  His lips curl with a cold sneer. “You want me to talk about my grandmother while I’ve got my fingers inside of you?”

  Trying not to feel offended by his curt reaction, I roll my eyes. “Of course not. I thought we could get dressed and hang out on the couch.”

  As if suddenly realizing he’s being a jerk, he sits up and tries to smooth down his hair as he looks away. “Why are you pushing me into talking about her? I don’t want to deal with that shit. I’d rather be buried inside of you.”

  “Because you have to face reality eventually.” I sit upright to stroke his shoulder. “You’ve been so angry since you got off the phone with someone yesterday. Can we talk about that?”

  Shaking his head, his eyes close. “Talking about my mother is the last thing I want to be doing. She’s probably already been on the phone with her travel agent to book a celebratory trip to the Grecian Islands.”

  “That bad, huh?” I ask, cringing. For the first time I truly appreciate how kind his grandmother must’ve been, because he’s sure as hell too kind of a soul to be anything like his greedy mother.

  “If Grams hadn’t nominated me as her PR, they would’ve sent he
r to the cheapest home in the city to rot and die.” Scrubbing his beard with both hands, his breath hitches. “I don’t know how the fuck I’m going to stand in the same room as that heartless woman while trying to mourn.”

  “I’ll tell you how,” I say, scooting in at his side. I don’t know what I’m talking about, but it seems like I have to wing it in order to pull him from the dangerous depths of this funk. “It sounds like your grandma was an amazing woman, and your mother missed out in being a part of her life. If anything, you should feel sorry for her and be proud of yourself for loving her enough to make up for her shitty daughter. And you can hold your head up with pride at her service, knowing you’re doing everything in your power to insure your grandma’s vision isn’t lost. You’re constructing an entire casino based around her life, Nolan! How many people can say they went to that extreme for someone they love?”

  “My mother thinks they’re going to bury her here in New York, but her ashes belong where I’m building that fucking casino. She would’ve loved her final resting place to be the same city as where she grew up, surrounded by the things she collected over the past half century.”

  “Then let’s do it!” I decide as I squeeze his knee. “We can give your mom a pot full of bogus ashes to bury…she’ll never know the difference. I’ll fly out there with you this weekend and we’ll scatter her real ashes together.”

  Chuckling quietly, Nolan studies my expression. “You must be kidding.”

  I move my hand up from his knee to take his hand. “Why not? It can be your secret ‘fuck you’ to your mom. Based on my visits with Leona, I think she’d get a kick out of it too.”

  Nolan laughs harder as he draws me into his arms and kisses the top of my head. “Damn, counselor, I love the way your mind thinks.” Then his lips move down to my ear. “And I love the way your body feels when we’re connected.”

  My heart flutters with his use of the word love. It’s as if I’m unable to escape the term whenever he’s on my mind. What exactly is developing between us? We had agreed to take things slow, but all at once I feel as if I’m spilling down a path that can only end one of two ways: happily ever after or total heartbreak. Where would either destination fit into my busy life?

  After my impromptu idea of smuggling Leona’s ashes to Vegas, Nolan became busy scheduling our flights and making accommodations for our weekend trip. It’s hard not to get excited, knowing we’ll be returning to the city where he convinced me to feel uninhibited. Now that we’re “together,” my mind wanders with the possibilities of what else could happen while we’re there, if only for a few hours.

  I shower and get ready for the funeral, giggling to myself when I realize it feels odd to be wearing clothes. Sharlo knew exactly what she was doing when she selected my most tasteful Louboutin heels and my conservative black Chanel dress with a cowl neck that stops at the knees. She even threw in a set of pearls I’m assuming belong to her. After securing my hair into a classic chignon and adding a light layer of makeup, I check myself out in the mirror, feeling as if I have the grieving girlfriend look down to a science.

  Hold on, girlfriend? Did I really just use that term? How did I assume this has progressed from a fun fuckfest to something serious in the matter of a few short days? And whatever happened to my distrust in men? Why is Nolan any different than the rest?

  Because he is.

  But how do I know that for sure? Slow the hell down, Sofia.

  When I exit the master bathroom, Nolan’s struggling with a cufflink on a crisp blue dress shirt that accentuates his cut torso. Clean-shaven, jaw set in concentration, he’s by far the most handsome man I’ve ever met. Despite having just completed a marathon of more climaxes than I’ve experienced in the past five years, my clit tingles with the sight of him all decked out. Clearing my throat, I close the distance between us to help him with the cufflink.

  “Wow, I hardly recognize you without a beard,” I tease, smirking as I lift one eyebrow. “You look so…handsome.” My voice hitches with the understated description.

  “And you look breathtakingly beautiful,” he says with a growl, sliding his free hand along my lower back. “When you wear your hair like that it drives me in-fucking-sane. I mean, holy shit..those pearls around your throat. You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”

  “Suppose you can keep your hands to yourself throughout the entire service? I doubt anyone there will recognize me as working for the firm, but still. We have to take it slow, Nolan. I can’t lose my license-to-practice over this.”

  “You won’t, I promise. But touching you—even just holding your hand—might be the only thing to get me through this miserable day.” His fingers dust up my back to cup the back of my neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. “I mean it, Sof. You can’t go far or I don’t know how the hell I’ll keep it together.”

  When I meet his gaze, it’s filled with a severity that steals my breath from my lungs, so I can only nod and squeak in reply, “Okay.”

  Once I’ve finished with his cufflinks and he’s slipped into his suit coat, I can hardly believe I’m the lucky woman he wants by his side as he’s taking my hand and we’re headed down to the parking garage. I let him have his serenity on the ride to Brooklyn Heights, only responding if he says something and otherwise holding his hand as he maneuvers the Tesla through early afternoon traffic.

  My mind races the entire way, wondering if Nolan will introduce me to his mother, wondering what the last few days mean in the grand scheme of things, and wondering what will happen to us once we return from Vegas. And then there’s the fact that I’m not able to deal with people crying. When emotions run high and people get touchy-feely, it’s like I’m crawling out of my own skin. The last funeral I went to was our father’s, and the only way I was able to cope was to take charge and boss everyone around.

  There isn’t time to dwell on my building anxiety once we’ve made it to Leona’s as the bar appears to already be filled with mourners. The funeral director tells us where to stand for the receiving line, and a waiter wearing a tuxedo hands us each a flute of champagne. It seems odd to drink alcohol at a wake, but Nolan insists it’s what his grandmother would’ve wanted.

  Sharlo and James are among the first to approach us with Evelyn and Charlie in tow. The two men are hard to miss in the crowd considering James has become so large and Charlie’s handsome face still draws the attention of every woman around him.

  Charlie hugs me briefly and kisses my cheek. God, he smells amazing and he’s just as built as Nolan. How many women would die if they were in my position? I’m not sure it will ever feel normal to be intimate with someone who’s so good looking that he’s always on magazine covers, but I’ve started to accept him as family and I truly love him for making my sister the happiest she’s ever been.

  “Let me know if there’s anything we can do,” he tells me.

  “Thanks for coming,” I say in return.

  James wraps me in his arms as Charlie did, but holds on a lot longer. I feel like a little girl again, nearly disappearing in his massive hold.

  “How’re you doing?” he asks.

  “I’m sorry about your fight,” I whisper.

  “I wasn’t about to go on without Nolan. Besides, I’d rather wait until after Sharlo has the baby anyway.”

  Something in my chest aches when my little sister and future sister-in-law start for me next, both of them looking exceptionally beautiful. I surprise the hell out of both of us when Evelyn hugs me first and I release a small cry.

  “I’m so sorry, sis,” she whispers, squeezing me tight. “Shar told me you were there when Leona died. I’m sure Nolan’s grateful beyond words that you could be there for him when it happened.”

  I squeeze her back. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Me too,” she replies, drawing back to kiss my cheek. Her brown eyes slide over to Nolan behind me, and she grins knowingly. “We’ll talk later.”

  “You look smashing, love,” S
harlo tells me as we embrace next. It’s almost become a trick to hug her now that her belly’s the size of a basketball.

  “Thanks for organizing my outfit. You did an excellent job.”

  “How’s he holding up?”

  “I’m not sure,” I answer truthfully. “The last couple of days have been…interesting.”

  She releases me to study my expression. Knowing her highly astute degree of intuition, my cheeks warm under her gaze. It’s as if she can see right through me when she slaps a hand over her mouth.

  “You dirty girl!”

  Glancing back to make sure Nolan didn’t hear as he’s speaking with Evelyn and Charlie, I drag her further aside. “You cannot tell anyone,” I warn, shaking my head. “He’s still my client, Shar. I could lose my job and my license to practice if anyone were to find out.”

  “Can’t you simply tell them you were shagging long before you were hired? I’d testify under oath that you’ve been madly in love with the bloke for years. It wouldn’t be too far of a stretch.”

  There’s that word again: love. It both scares and thrills me when I wonder if that’s this achy feeling I can’t seem to shake whenever I think about Nolan—like I need him to breathe and function like a normal human being.

  “If that was true, then how would you explain Avery?” I whisper, wishing she’d lower her voice.

  “That one’s as nutters as they come. A mere psych eval would settle that.”

  “Just, please, don’t say anything. Not even to James.”

  “Now you’re the one who’s nutters,” she replies with a sharp laugh. “You’re forgetting James and Nolan are good mates. He already knows you’re sweet on each other.”

  “Then tell him to stay quiet.”

  “Only if you can promise me you won’t break Nolan’s heart. He would never admit it, of course, but he’s going to come out of this day fragile and vulnerable. You mustn’t overlook the fact that he wanted you there when he said his goodbyes to the woman who means the world to him.”