Manhattan Millionaire: Book Three in the Kendall Family Series

by Jennifer Ann

  It gives me full-on body shivers whenever I think about James and Sharlo just starting their family in a matter of days. I’m completely exhausted after surviving my sons’ milestones essentially on my own with minimal emotional help from my mom, and generous financial support from Charlie.

  Puberty. Braces. Internet porn. Homework. After-school clubs. Driver’s ed. Sports. Weed. Girlfriends. Alcohol. Prom. First box of condoms. I want to hibernate for an entire year when merely reminiscing about everything they’ve endured.

  But I’m proud of myself for raising two men who didn’t turn out to be complete assholes, and who both seem to have a firm grasp on their futures. And now that they’re almost gone, I have time to focus on the things I care about. The clothing line I started with Sharlo and Evelyn. Spending time with my friends. Finding a smaller, affordable place to live that doesn’t have to revolve around a good school district.

  Getting properly laid.

  Don’t get me wrong. I’ve had plenty of hot flings over the past nineteen years, but none that involved actual relationships as I wanted to focus all my efforts on the boys. Now that Allen will be graduating high school in a month and I’ve approached middle age faster than my brother’s latest single became a hit, it’s time to find someone to grow old with. I don’t do the alone thing as well as most people, probably because I enjoy the gift of gab. Probably a little too much.

  As I’m enjoying the view of the water, contemplating what to do with my evening, I hear, “Hey, Mom, what’s for dinner?”

  Spinning around to face Connor, I set both hands on my hips. Bouncing an apple in his hand, he’s wearing a sleeveless shirt and board shorts over his tanned muscles, and his white teeth nearly glow in the sunlight. I have yet to decide if it’s a blessing or a curse that he’s looking more like his Uncle Charlie every day.

  And even though times like these his cockiness reminds me far too much of his idiot father, I’m awestruck by the handsome, thoughtful man he’s become in the past couple of years. When he was a senior in high school, I was convinced I would have to send him to military school in order to teach him respect after he fucked with his uncle’s life by leaking personal information to the paparazzi. It nearly tore Charlie and Evelyn apart, so the two of us had a coming to Jesus meeting. Thankfully, everything changed after that.

  “You’re not supposed to be here this weekend!” I remind him. “I haven’t even bought groceries yet because I’m here to relax. I’m not making anyone dinner tonight! Probably not even myself!”

  Holding his free hand up at his side, he laughs before taking a bite of the apple. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. I just stopped by to grab the paddle boards.” His thick eyebrows wiggle. “I have another date with Veronica. We’re camping on the beach.”

  “No glove, no love, Connor,” I remind him for the umpteenth time. “I mean it. You haven’t known this girl long. She could be a closeted sociopath and make the next eighteen years of your life miserable. You get her knocked up, don’t come crying to me. You’d be on your own, just like I was with you and your brother. Best wakeup call of my life.”

  His lips bend with a deep smirk even though his eyes roll around. “Yeah, Mom, I know. And you can relax, because she’s on the pill. I promise I won’t make you a grandmother until you’re wrinkled and gray.”

  “Don’t say such things!” I pull a strand of my recently colored hair between my fingers and shake my head. “I’ve been finding more grays ever since you bought that damn motorcycle!”

  “Is that why you colored your hair darker?” Taking another bite of the apple, he motions to my head. “It looks great, by the way. You make a killer brunette. It really brings out your eyes. Makes you look younger.”

  Crossing my arms, I tip my head. “Is there any particular reason you’re kissing my ass?”

  His dark eyes sparkle with mischief, the way they would when he was a little boy and up to no good. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. You’ll be happy to know I sold my ‘damn motorcycle’.”

  “And?” I ask, waving my hand through the air, knowing there’s more to it.

  “He’s coming later tonight to pick it up. Since I already made plans, I thought maybe you could take the money for me and give him the title.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it. Keys are in the ignition and title’s on the kitchen counter.” With a bite of apple in his mouth, he darts over to kiss me on the top of the head before hurrying back toward the house. “Thanks, Mom, you’re literally the best!” he calls over his shoulder. “Enjoy your night! Love you!”

  “Love you too!” I yell back. “Make good decisions!”

  After he’s gone, I head inside to change into my swimsuit and grab a bottle of red wine before settling on one of the loungers by the pool. It’s a little early in the year to be laying out, so I wrap myself in a towel before settling in with the romance novel I downloaded on my phone this morning.

  This is the life.

  Then I remember Connor didn’t tell me who would be stopping by to buy his motorcycle or even when, so I text him before diving into my steamy read.

  Some time later, I’m deeply invested in a sex scene that has made me so hot and bothered that I consider slipping my swimsuit bottoms to the side right about the time I hear the doorbell ringing.

  “Motherfucker,” I curse, hopping off the chair and wrapping the towel around my middle. “What’s a girl gotta do to get off in peace?”

  With a glass of wine in hand, I head for the front entrance.

  Opening the door, I let out a surprised gasp. Braden Kendall waits on my doorstep with the world’s sexiest smile, looking good enough to eat. The little shit may be completely full of himself, but he’s undeniably gorgeous.

  With every year that has gone by since I first met him, he fills out even more and his jaw becomes more defined, his brown eyes more severe. His flawless skin has a dark glow from all the recent afternoons spent surfing in California. Even though he finished his time with the Marine Corps, his dark brown hair is still cropped short, just beyond military length. He’s easily the same size as his brother James, pure muscle and brawn. Even in a T-shirt and jeans he’s intimidating as hell, unable to hide all the deliciousness underneath. I know he’s in his early to mid twenties, but he looks a good decade beyond that.

  Staring into his big, beautiful brown eyes, I’m reminded of the sweet vibration I felt between my legs just moments ago when reading about the carpenter drilling into an unsuspecting housewife. My swimsuit bottom becomes wet when I suddenly picture Braden and myself in the exact same scenario.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he coos in a deliciously deep voice, winking. “Did you miss me?”

  “It hasn’t been long enough,” I answer dryly, leaning up against the door. “What are you doing on my doorstep, Braden?”

  Shoving a hand into his jean pocket, he shrugs one shoulder. “I wanted something to drive across the country this summer, so Connor sold me his bike.”

  “That little shit,” I mumble to myself. Connor once overheard me talking to Sharlo about Braden, and ever since has been teasing me about being a cougar with a crush on a younger man. No wonder why he wouldn’t tell me who was coming and couldn’t stop grinning when he mentioned it.

  “What’s that?” Braden asks, raising one eyebrow.

  I wave my hand through the air between us, hoping my face isn’t as red as it feels. “Nothing. Come in, I’ll grab the title and we’ll have you on your way.”

  “Why are you in such a hurry to get rid of me? Don’t I get to take it out for a test run first?”

  When he steps in past me, I’m temporarily dumbfounded by his crisp scent and the warmth from his massive body.

  “I—uh…yeah, whatever.”

  “You’re usually not this quiet.” His dark eyes trail down to my bikini top and his tongue appears to wet his lips. “Did I interrupt…something?”

  “I was reading,” I snap, suddenly worried he can see ri
ght through me.

  Stepping closer, his eyes return to mine and he smirks. “Anything good?”

  “It’s a book about fashion,” I lie, stepping away from him until my back’s flat against the entryway wall.

  “Then why were your cheeks all flushed when you answered the door?”

  Shit, shit, shit! He really does have the ability to see through me! He’s so freaking hot, and my body vibrates with the idea of reaching out to touch him, but this is wrong. So, so fucking wrong. He’s young. And a relation. Sorta.

  “I’m drinking wine,” I answer, trying desperately to sound unaffected. “I know you’re still fairly new to the adult thing, but it’s a biological response someone has when they’re partaking in alcoholic beverages.”

  “So you still think of me as young, huh?” He pushes his chiseled body against mine, hard enough to make a point, but too gentle for my raging libido. His beautifully sculpted lips linger temptingly close to mine when he whispers, “Bet I still could teach you a thing or two.”

  Is the floor shaking, or is it just me?

  “I’m old enough to be your mother!” I squawk. Or at least it sounds like a squawk to my ears.

  “Bullshit. I know for a fact we’re only a little over a decade apart.”

  “What makes you think you know more about life, Braden? I’ve raised two sons.”

  “And from what I’ve heard, you neglected yourself while doing it. When’s the last time you had sex?”

  My heart skips several beats before I can catch my breath. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that. You can’t be asking me that!”

  “Why not? Because you’re too embarrassed to admit it’s been awhile?”

  Sweet baby Jesus, he’s standing too fucking close. The impression of his hard cock presses against my leg and his tempting body touching mine is far too much for me to deal with. He smells like mint gum and…sex. Dark, dangerous, and dirty sex. The kind that involves hair pulling and screams so loud that the neighbors would call the cops.

  “No. I have plenty…of…sex.”

  Bending down until his lips brush over mine, he asks, “When’s the last time you had a mind-blowing orgasm?”

  Fingers tightening around the rim of the wine glass, I whimper. Hearing Braden Kendall say the word “orgasm” is more than my already racing heart can take. But becoming involved with someone his age—someone related to my brother—is a disaster waiting to happen. One I don’t think I would ever recover from.

  “Back away, Braden,” I warn, no longer able to trust my own self-control.

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather I throw you down on this floor and fuck you senseless instead?”

  Then he’s removing my towel with the flick of his wrist. His eyes don’t leave mine when he slides a hand up between my thighs, teasing the sensitive skin beneath my swim bottoms. Holy hell, that feels fabulous. Grabbing his busy arm, I throw back my head and gasp, dropping the glass of wine. It shatters against the stone floor, splashing across my legs.

  “You are so fucking hot,” he says among a feral growl. Bending down, he latches his warm mouth around one of my hard nipples, and—

  A squeak falls from my lips when I jerk awake on the lounger by the pool, cell phone in my lap. My very soaked lap. Holy shit, did I just have a wet dream? It’s getting dark out, I’m still alone, and the doorbell is ringing.

  Disoriented, I pull my phone up to look at the time, and find a text on the screen from Connor, still waiting to be answered.

  Braden Kendall…said he wld b there by 9. Have fun. :)

  Did I read the text right before I fell asleep? Is that why I had the dream? Regardless, it’s one I won’t be forgetting anytime soon. The sensual sound of his voice, the way he touched me. It seemed so real. So damn real that I don’t know how I’ll face Braden again without wetting myself.

  “Katie! Do you know your garage door is wide open?”

  With the sudden intrusion of Braden’s voice in real time, I squeal and whip around to face him, tumbling off the lounger in the process. Probably the only thing worse than letting him see the thrum of desire in my expression would be showing him the bare ass cheek I can feel exposed as I struggle to pull my swimming suit bottoms back in place before pushing myself up off the concrete.

  “Shit, you okay?” he asks. He’s suddenly scooping me off the ground and bringing me to my feet. I waiver a little with the feel of his hard muscles and his spicy cologne. The scent may be off, his hair’s a bit longer, he’s not quite as tan, and he’s wearing a sleeveless shirt that shows off every last rippling muscle in his biceps, but he’s every bit as fit and manly as he was in my dream when I look up to meet his look of concern.

  “Too much wine,” I say once I’m able to swallow the lump in my throat.

  Laughing, he finally releases his hold on my arms and scans the backyard. Lord have mercy, he is one hunk of a man. Possibly even better than the dream version. Okay, let’s be real, it was more of a fantasy, not a dream. And I sort of wish he’d take off already so I can continue where it left off with my smut and five fingers.

  When his eyes connect with mine once again, his eyebrows are drawn down. It reminds me of the way James often looks at Sharlo when he’s overly worried. “You here alone? You shouldn’t leave the doors unlocked.”

  “Connor was here earlier.” Remembering the two of us are very much alone, I become skittish and start for the house. “He left the bike and title. I’ll grab you and you can be on your way.” My face becomes red hot when I realize what I just said to him. “I mean I’ll grab the bike…er…the keys. The keys!”

  When I glance back to see if he’s behind me, I find him rooted in the same place, both hands jammed in his jeans pockets, beautiful features smooth. If he wasn’t wearing a shirt, he’d look primed for an Abercrombie photo shoot. Oh hell, I’m way too old to be fantasizing about someone his age!

  “Are you good with me crashing in one of the guest rooms tonight?” he asks. “Ev had a car drop me here and I’m not a big fan of driving a motorcycle in the dark, especially when it’s one I’ve never had out before. Ev and Charlie said it was okay with them if it was cool with you.” A slow smile spreads across his face, one that’s both alluring and devious at the same time. “Unless you’re expecting company she doesn’t know about.”

  With the appearance of his teasing side, I all at once become defensive. “I’m here alone all night,” I snap, cocking one hip. “So there’s more than enough room for both of us.”

  “Thanks?” he replies, chuckling. “Are you sure it’s alright?”

  Hot damn, the deep roll of his voice is enough to evoke flashes of my dream. As my cheeks become warm, I cross my arms and glare him down. If he wasn’t so fucking good looking and flirty I wouldn’t have such images floating through my head and making my center all warm and tingly. Why do gorgeous guys like him have to be so infuriating? Why can’t he be uninteresting and make it known he’s unavailable to middle-aged cougars like me?

  “Are you feeling okay?” he asks with genuine concern, tilting his head.

  Oh. My. God. If he says something about my cheeks being flushed, I’m done.

  “I…uh…I need to go to bed,” I stammer, shuffling toward the house. “To sleep.”

  “Already? It’s not even nine o’clock.”

  “I have a..uh..class early tomorrow,” I lie. “Spinning. You know…it’s good for cardiovascular health and whatnot.”

  I know I’m stammering, but I have to split. How the hell can I stick around when the object of my newest fantasy will be parading around in my kitchen, likely half-naked in low-slung pants with that sexy sleepy look guys like him get—

  “I have to go!” I squeak, high-tailing it inside before my thoughts have me leaving a puddle on the ground.

  “Good night!” he yells before chuckling quietly to himself.

  By the time I make it to my room, my heart’s racing a million beats per second and my body’s achy in ways I haven’t fel
t since…for-fucking-ever. How dare my own mind betray me like that by putting those images—those deliciously hot, panty-wetting images—in my head? What kind of sick fuck dangles things over their own head knowing it’s something you can never have?

  Worst part is, I didn’t tell him which bedroom to take, which means he may be on the other side of my bedroom wall. As in like ten feet away. And these walls aren’t exactly thick. Connor learned that at 16 the first time he tried sneaking a girl into his room.

  What if Braden’s one of those heavy mouth-breathers? What if he’s a sleep-talker and I hear the rumble of his sexy voice when I’m trying to sleep? Worst yet, what if he jerks off and gives me no other choice than to pleasure myself along with him?

  It would seem I’m in for the longest night of my life.

  Chapter 18

  NOLAN

  I wasn’t wrong in thinking the men waiting outside the conference room were there to question Sofia on her rumored relationship with a client. They introduce themselves as being from the New York State Ethics Committee and lead her away to discuss the matter in private. I’m proud beyond words to see Sofia’s confidence shine through as they stride away. She even stops to give me a reassuring smile over her shoulder.

  Cursing Avery for trying to ruin both our lives, I step into the conference room on my own to discover Edward Tonkin, the lead attorney for the seller, is the only one present.

  He stands to greet me with a forced smile smoothing out the wrinkles around his thin lips as he offers his hand. He’s elderly enough to be on the verge of retirement age, though something tells me he’ll have to be wheeled out of this place before he’ll give up the fight. I can see by the glint to his steely gaze and the way he wears his thousand dollar suit that he gets off on power.