Slow Ride Home (The Grady Legacy)

by Leah Braemel

  “Then do it, damn it.”

  “You’ve had that pleasure already, remember? Now it’s my turn.” Enjoying the frustration in her voice, he placed the box on the dresser. After a quick search of the contents, he chose the set of leather restraints and the clit stimulator that attached to a garter-like belt.

  Now, how to attach them. Behind her back would make her chest stick out, accentuating her breasts, but if she was on her face it might be uncomfortable. If he wanted to flip her over onto her back, he’d have to move them too. “Stretch your arms above your head, Al.”

  Her butt wiggled as she obeyed him, making him rethink his decision about the butt plug he’d bought online, but he decided against it. Maybe he could use it another day, when she wasn’t so skittish. He wrapped the leather restraints around her wrist and attached them to each other.

  “I like these better than the rope,” Allie announced.

  Considering they wouldn’t leave marks on her skin, so did he. He’d hoped to use the ankle restraints too, but given the design of the bed, he couldn’t figure out what part of the bed he’d fasten them to. But back home they’d work like a dream. Sweat broke out on his upper lip as he imagined her tied spread-eagle to his bed, open and available for whatever he wanted.

  He attached the clit stimulator to her next. “Now,” he whispered in her ear. “Here’s the challenge. You can’t come unless I tell you.”

  Her “oh” was pure need, pure greed. Chuckling, he positioned himself between her thighs, spreading them out a little wider until he got a good view of her glistening cleft. After sheathing himself in a condom, he grasped her hips and nudged the head of his cock at her entrance. Then he hit the remote and turned on her vibrator. Her knees damned near lifted off the mattress.

  “Remember, darlin’, no coming until I do.”

  * * *

  Allie hissed in a breath when he buried himself in her pussy, the sudden stretch around his engorged cock burning until her body adjusted to his girth. The damned vibrator buzzed away over her clit, making every nerve ending tingle. Once her body softened for him and accepted his invasion, Ben moved.

  Where he’d taken his time before, he was a man on a mission now. His hipbones slapped against her ass, his fingers digging in to her hips as he held on for the wild ride. She curled her fingers into the bedding, trying to stop the orgasm that built deep inside, trying to stop the relentless crawl across the mattress with each of Ben’s powerful thrusts.

  Her body clamped around him when the head of his cock found that sensitive spot deep inside, and she whimpered.

  “Don’t come,” he growled. “Not unless you want your ass filled too.”

  What would it be like? Being full in both passages? He already filled her pussy until she swore she couldn’t stretch another millimeter. She knew it was her imagination—women had babies after all, but the thought of having both her ass and her pussy filled set off another fluttering mini-climax.

  He slapped her ass and growled another warning. Then the little vibrator began buzzing faster over her clit. With a scream, she buried her face in the bedding and lost control, her orgasm taking her beyond any she’d had before. Behind her, Ben shouted and thrust in once more, burying his cock so deep she swore his balls slapped her mound. Or maybe that was the vibrator, still merrily buzzing, driving her crazy.

  The bastard had cranked up the intensity.

  Once he’d pulled from her and undone the restraints, she rolled onto her side and watched him as he padded to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. “You deliberately cranked up the intensity. You cheated.”

  He reappeared, a smile filling his face like a schoolboy who’d pulled the best prank on his teacher. “I never said I couldn’t use whatever tools I had at hand to make you lose.”

  He crawled onto the bed beside her and cupped her breasts. “I could have used the butt plug I bought instead. Or some of the other toys I looked at online.”

  Her breath rushed from her as her body reacted to the thought of being filled in both places. “Maybe we could go shopping online together one day.”

  His eyebrows arched into his hairline. “You’d be okay with me using a plug?”

  At her nod, he grinned. “With an ass as tight as yours, I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Are you calling me a tight ass?” She fixed him with a stern look.

  “I meant you’ve got a tight little ass. As in muscular. Firm. Not jiggly.” He closed his eyes and hung his head. “I’m just diggin’ my own grave, aren’t I?”

  “You are so easy.” Letting her grin escape, she slapped a hand on his chest and pushed him flat on his back. “I’m in charge now. Time to saddle up, cowboy.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Her body still tingling pleasantly from Ben’s attentions—not just in the hotel but when they’d returned to his place, where she’d spent the rest of the weekend—Allie had trouble concentrating on the claimant’s statement.

  “Looks like someone’s had a good weekend.” Kathy grinned at her from the door to her cubicle.

  “What?”

  Her grin stretching even wider, Kathy plonked down in the chair beside her desk. “I thought hickeys went out with high school.” She leaned closer. “Man, that’s a doozy. Your cowboy did a good job branding you, AJ.”

  “What?” Allie grabbed her purse from the bottom drawer and dug out her mirror. Shit, how had she missed that when she was putting on her makeup this morning? Luckily before she could reply with some lame explanation—although why should she justify having a hickey? She was having sex. Really great sex, too. Her phone rang, interrupting her internal debate.

  The call turned out to be a claimant verifying that an email had been received. Once she’d found it and hung up, Kathy had intercepted the mail clerk and was opening a large Kraft envelope.

  Her boss scanned it, her forehead wrinkling with each page she flipped. “Mother puss bucket. “ Kathy held out the report. “Your cowboy’s case just got damned complicated.”

  Allie flipped open the folder—there was no way she could have not noticed the large yellow highlighted section on the front page.

  While we could not find any proof that George Wilson Grady had any offspring other than Edward, we did find several posts placed by Edward Grady seeking a son he’d had with a Denise Molina.

  She flipped to the document the investigator had flagged. In addition to a text summary, the investigator had included a screen shot.

  Birth father seeking a child given up for adoption by Denise Molina. I had no knowledge she was pregnant at the time or I would have kept you myself. Whether you’re a boy or a girl, know that I would have loved you and cherished you, given you all you deserved. You have two brothers and a father who love you and want to introduce you to your birthright. Contact Ed Grady...

  A post on another page, this one posted a month later than the first one gave more details—this time he specifically stated that he was looking for his son, and gave a birthdate, and a birth location of Houston.

  If she hadn’t already been sitting, her knees would have crumpled beneath her. “Do you know what this will do to Ben and Jake? They think their father could do no wrong, that their parents’ marriage was perfect.”

  “Then it’s time they grew up and realized nobody’s perfect.”

  She pressed her fingers to her temples. Think. Think. How does this change things? If Ben knew his father had another kid, then he’s lied to me. Or has he? Tank said that George had an illegitimate child, not Ed. So technically Ben hadn’t lied. But he’d also never said anything about his half brother either. Willful omission? Or did his father keep him in the dark? No, she discarded the thought immediately. Ben saw half-truths as lies too. If he’d heard even a whisper of having a half brother, he’d have told her. Heck, with his sense of family obligation, he wouldn’t have let the matter lie until he found him. Which meant his parents and grandparents had kept the secret from him. Her doubts soothed, her legal training k
icked in. Even if there was another kid, what did that do to Ben and Jake’s ownership? “What if Tank got it wrong? What if he heard Agnes talking about Ed’s will, not George’s?”

  “Then I say you need to go visit Ed Grady’s executor in person, see if Ed ever mentioned this other kid to him, ask to see the will. Maybe there was a private note in the will that ol’ Randy didn’t mention to the rest of Ed’s family.” Kathy leaned forward. “Keep reading. She gave us the lawyer’s name who arranged the adoption.”

  “Well, if you know, why are you letting me waste time reading it? Who was the lawyer?”

  “Charlie Carter himself. Isn’t he your cowboy’s great uncle?”

  “Yes.” Allie cursed to herself. If Charlie knew, then Agnes and George would have too. “The more people knew a secret, the less likely it stays a secret,” she muttered, drumming her fingers on the desk. “Someone, somewhere, knows something. I just have to find them and get them talk.” Which meant going back to Agnes. Ben’s mother too?

  She blew out a breath. Both Ben and Jake were very protective of their mother right now. If she approached them, they’d want to know why. And she’d have to explain.

  “If there really is another child who might possibly be named in the will, having Panola sign off on the land sale isn’t enough. Contact that private investigation firm and tell them to keep digging.”

  “How do I tell them, Kath? I mean, Ben and Jake?”

  “You tell ’em straight out. Don’t beat around the bush. You don’t lay blame, you just lay out the facts. Let them process it, but don’t back down. See if they let anything slip that they already knew any of this.”

  “These aren’t just facts. It’s not like saying the blue 2012 Honda Accord ran the red light and hit the light post, resulting in five thousand dollars damage to his vehicle. This is people’s lives. People’s beliefs and trust in others.” Ben’s life. And Jake’s too.

  Ashamed to admit it even to herself, a few weeks ago she would have taken a modicum of pleasure in delivering the news. But not now. She rubbed the ache in her chest, hating that the duty of delivering such news would fall on her.

  “You can’t protect them, hon.” A look of compassion flickered across Kathy’s face, one she rarely let any of her clients or employees see. She wasn’t known as a hard-ass boss for nothing. “If Panola’s right and they are hiding another will, they’re in all sorts of trouble. You need to do some serious digging here, AJ. Either find that kid and have him waive all rights, or prove the Gradys wilfully withheld information from us so we can deny their claim and cancel their policy. Oh, and if they complain? Make sure they understand we’ll sue their asses for fraud.”

  * * *

  A week later, Allie still hadn’t told Ben about the investigator’s discovery. She’d decided instead to concentrate on digging up everything she could before she had to face him—which hadn’t accomplished anything more than she already knew. Her final step took her back to Carter Valley and into the offices of Ackerman and Freeman, who had finally granted her an appointment. She clutched her briefcase, knowing that the moment this meeting was over, she’d have to face Ben and his brother and possibly shatter their memory of their father. And, her throat tightened at the thought, if they had deliberately deceived her, she’d have to take them to court.

  “Ms. O’Keefe, if you’ll come with me?” The receptionist ushered Allie into a small meeting room. Three of the walls were lined with law books from floor to ceiling, plus an eight-foot-long wood table or desk—she wasn’t sure which category it would fall into, since it had drawers but also had eight chairs around it. “Mr. Freeman will be with you in a few minutes.”

  Logan sat at the head of the table at the far end. “Hello, Allie, seems we’ll be waiting together.” His gaze flicked to Freeman’s receptionist. “Sweetheart, could you get us both a coffee, black for me and with cream for Ms. O’Keefe.”

  “What are you doing here?” Annoyed, Allie placed her briefcase on the table and pulled out a yellow legal pad, similar to the one sitting in front of Logan. How the heck had he found out that she was meeting Freeman today? “And her name isn’t sweetheart, it’s Sheri.”

  “Oh, Sheri and I go way back, don’t we?” He winked at the blushing receptionist who hurried from the room, pulling the door closed behind her. “As for why I’m here, I’m sitting in on your meeting in order to protect my client’s interests.”

  Guess she had her answer—he’d sweet-talked Freeman’s receptionist to keep him in the loop. His presence changed how she’d planned to approach Mr. Freeman about Ben’s missing half sibling. Although she had to admit, she probably would have wedged herself into the meeting too if their roles had been reversed.

  As she lined up two pens with her legal pad, there was a curious squeak. Logan was opening one of the drawers, sneaking a peek at its contents.

  “Logan, stop snooping,” she snapped, not sure if she was irritated at his gall, or jealous of his audacity.

  “I’m just looking. Besides, there’s only a half-used legal pad and a broken pencil, nothing top secret.” He sounded disappointed.

  “I’ll bet you peek in people’s medicine’s cabinets too.”

  Logan closed the drawer. “Come on, Allie. You can’t tell me you’re never curious to know about people when you get a chance? Tell me you’ve never checked your ex-husband’s cell phone to see who he had on his speed dial? Never checked his browser history?”

  She’d done both. But that was different, she told herself. Now how was she going to handle the questions she needed to ask with Logan present? She was trying to decide when a middle-aged man, his hair carefully arranged to cover his receding hairline, entered the room.

  Unlike the lawyers she’d met at Logan’s firm, Randall wore a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing thick forearms that spoke to both strength and maybe a few too many desserts. Despite his casual dress, his blue Harvard tie warned her of a sharp mind, not that she needed the warning; she’d done her research on everyone involved. And received a reminder in an email from Kathy that morning.

  She stood and held out her hand. “Mr. Freeman, thank you for meeting with me today.”

  “Anything I can do to help out the Gradys. And please, call me Randy.” He gave her a firm handshake before his gaze swung to Logan, his smile dimming. “Hello, Logan. Didn’t realize you’d be sitting in on this meeting.”

  “Since I’m Bull’s Hollow’s lawyer of record, I thought I should be up to speed on what my client’s predecessors have done for them.”

  Oh great, now they were getting into a “my dick is bigger and better than your dick” contest.

  “Ackerman and Freeman have looked after Bull’s Hollow since there was a Bull’s Hollow. And you can tell Charlie Carter that we don’t appreciate you poaching our clients.”

  “I’ll tell him. I don’t think he’ll care anymore than I do. Charlie is Ben’s family—and you know how seriously Ben takes the family motto.”

  “I thought that only applied to Gradys,” Freeman said stiffly.

  Allie breathed a sigh of relief when Sheri arrived with the coffee.

  Once Allie had taken a sip, Randall leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “Now, Ms. O’Keefe, I understand you have some questions about both George and Ed Grady’s wills.”

  Once again, Allie laid out the case, sticking to the facts as Tank had related them. “Very simply, I need to know if George Grady had any children other than Edward Grady who might have claim to Bull’s Hollow.”

  Freeman had tensed when she’d started talking. He knew something, but about George? Or Ed? “George only had the one child that I know of,” he spoke slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “That’s not to say I’m aware of any peccadillos he may have gotten into—while I was Ed’s lawyer, Jem Ackerman was George’s, and he may have known more than I. But I must point out, as a matter of record, George’s will only named his son Edward Grady to inherit the ranch, no one else.�
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  “Is it possible for us to talk with Mr. Ackerman? Perhaps he knows if George arranged for a settlement with another woman? Maybe so Agnes wouldn’t know?”

  “Mr. Ackerman suffers from Alzheimer’s,” Logan said. Was that smugness in his voice? “His memory can no longer be trusted, so interviewing him would be a waste of time.”

  “Even if George had another child,” Freeman added, “illegitimate or not, they weren’t named in the will. Whoever this George Junior is who Tank says signed the Memorandum of Land Sale, he had no right to sell any part of the Grady spread.”

  “Could you tell me if Ed sold a parcel of Bull’s Hollow to someone? Whether the man’s name was George Grady Junior or not.”

  “No, Ed never sold any land—he’s leased some of the spread to other ranchers, but that’s all on record.”

  “Is it possible he might have dealt with a different law firm to handle the transaction?”

  “No.” Randy leaned forward. “Let me make this perfectly clear, Ms. O’Keefe. Ed would never have considered selling even an acre of Bull’s Hollow. That land was his ancestor’s legacy, the legacy for his sons to leave to their offspring. He would not have lessened their inheritance.”

  “And you’re positive that he might not have used another law firm?”

  “The Gradys have always used Ackerman and Freeman, so if there had been any legal proceedings, Ed would have gone through us.”

  “Until six months ago,” Logan added.

  “I beg your pardon?” Randy squinted and raised his hand over his eyes as he blinked in Logan’s direction. That was when Allie realized the sun blazed through the window directly behind him, blinding Randy. Obviously Logan had known exactly where Randy would sit and chosen that chair deliberately. A totally unnecessary power play.