by Carter Blake
She chokes on her tea. “Excuse me?”
I place my mug on the counter, then take hers from her trembling fingers. “I came here to seduce you, Brynne.”
“Oh.” She blinks and shakes her head. “Why?”
I chuckle, and move closer so that our bodies are close, but not touching. I won’t touch her again until I have her permission. “Because you’re fucking gorgeous. And since I saw you two weeks ago, I haven’t been able to think about anything other than those sweet lips wrapped around my cock.”
“Oh,” she says again, eyes wide, lips quivering. “And…how were you going to do it? Seduce me.”
A smile tugs at my lips. “Why don’t you let me show you.”
“No.” She shakes her head and tries to move back, but she’s tapped between me and the counter. “I-I can’t. You’re…you’re a parent. And I’m…I’m…”
“A teacher,” I offer.
“Yes.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” I joke.
She frowns and continues to shake her head. When her hands come up to my chest to push me away, she freezes. I swear the fucking world stops when she touches me, and my balls tighten painfully.
“You need to go.” Her fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt and she leans towards me, mouth parted, body denying her words.
“If that’s what you want.” I lean down so that my voice rasps against her delicate skin. Taking her chin between my fingers, I tilt her face up towards mine. “Is that really what you want, Brynne?”
She whimpers, and her lips open to speak, but I stop her words with a crushing kiss.
Her entire body trembles with need under my touch, and her mouth parts, accepting everything I give her.
And in with that one single kiss, I know without any doubt that this woman is mine.
Chapter 3
Brynne
My body and mind war with each other as Harrison’s mouth consumes me.
Stop, my brain demands.
More, my body screams.
His hands roam down my back, his touch igniting a heat that scorches my entire body.
What am I doing? This is Harrison Fucking Redmond. The boy who broke my heart. The man who represents everything I hate.
I need to stop before it goes too far.
But I don’t want to.
I’m drawn to him like a moth to a flame, even knowing I’m going to get burned.
“Harrison,” I breathe out roughly, fingers still curled in his shirt as I tell him, “Stop. I-I can’t.”
He presses his forehead against mine, and cups my jaw in his palms. Blue eyes study me with heated intensity. “Can’t or won’t?”
“Both.”
The look of determination in his face doesn’t falter, if anything it only intensifies. And that scares the hell out of me, because I know men like him. Once they see a challenge, nothing will stop them from getting what they want.
And Harrison wants me.
That knowledge fills me with a small sense of excitement.
He gives a small grunt and drags his thumb across my bottom lip, causing my body to tremble. “We’ll see.”
There’s a promise in his words, one I can’t miss.
So damn arrogant. He’s always walked around like he could have any woman he wanted. And he could – except me.
I won’t give into his charms. Because deep down I know what kind of man he really is.
Selfish.
Conceited.
More concerned about money than people.
I ran away from that life, and I won’t get dragged back into it. Not even for Harrison Redmond.
A small spark of anger ignites inside me, enough to give me the strength to push past him, despite the way my legs have turned to jelly.
“You need to go.” I open the door, then cross my arms across my chest, and give him what I hope is a steely look. “You should never have come here. It isn’t right. I’m your daughter’s teacher.”
He tilts his head, brows drawn down, lips pursed, and I think he’s going to argue. My body begs him to argue. Instead, he gives a small nod and starts towards me, but before he leaves, he leans into me and whispers, “I like a good challenge.”
“It’s not a challenge. I’m just not interested in you.”
He chuckles and brushes his knuckles across my cheek, causing my rebellious body to tremble once again. “I don’t believe you.”
I breathe out heavily, gritting my teeth, not trusting my voice to argue.
His mouth quirks up in a delicious grin. “I’m not a patient man, especially not when I want something. And I want you, Brynne.”
Narrowing my eyes, I blurt out angrily, “You don’t know anything about me. What you want is sex. And I’m sure there are a million women in this city that would be more than happy to give it to you.”
“But not you?” There’s a teasing in his voice that says he doesn’t believe me. His hand comes up and rests on the wall behind me, the other on the door, once again trapping me, but not touching me.
“No. Not me. Despite what you think, you are resistible.”
This time he laughs hard. A deep rumbling that vibrates from his chest.
God, the arrogance of the man.
“Then resist me, Brynne,” he says, still smiling, breath warm against my lips, reminding me of his kiss. My body is aching for more of his touch. My nipples hard. My pussy hot and wet, begging him to fill me.
“That’s-” My voice cracks and I close my eyes against the humiliation creeping into my cheeks, because I know he can read my body and my thoughts. “That’s what I’m doing.”
“Two weeks,” he growls against my ear.
I blink up at him. “Excuse me?”
“Two weeks or sooner and you’ll be in my bed.”
My mouth drops open. “You really are an egotistical prick.”
Another chuckle. “Yes. But you still want me.”
“I don’t.”
“Then prove it.”
“How?”
“Have dinner with me.”
“Dinner?” I’m sure it’s some kind of trick.
“Friday night. Penelope is with her grandmother this weekend. So if you decide to come home with me-”
“I won’t.”
His mouth quirks to one side. “Let’s start with dinner and see where it goes from there.”
I shake my head, but before I can say no, his mouth is on mine again. The kiss is soft, slow, patient, but it’s enough to silence my protest, and turn my logical side of my brain to mush.
“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he says against my lips, before turning and walking out the door, leaving me standing there, unsure of what the hell just happened.
Chapter 4
Harrison
“Daddy.” Penelope rushes through the front doors, tearing away from her nanny, and straight into my arms. When she pulls back, she shoves her backpack off, and pulls out a sheet of paper. “Look, Daddy. I got my essay back and I got an A+.”
I take the sheet from her and smile. “That’s wonderful. Good job.”
“Ms. Sweet said it was one of the best in the whole class. I even got to choose a prize from the prize box.”
“What did you choose?” I stay crouched down at her level, giving her my full attention.
“A sticker book. But I gave it to Emily Harris.”
I frown. “Isn’t she the girl who stole your markers last week?”
“Yes. But it’s only because she didn’t have any of her own.”
“It still doesn’t make stealing right.”
“I know.” Her little face goes all serious. “But Ms. Sweet said not everyone has as much as we do and people mean more than things. I gave Emily the sticker book and now we’re friends.”
I grunt. “Giving things to people doesn’t make them your friend.”
In my experience, people will only want more and more from you the minute you give them anything.
Penny’s mother
was that way. She took and took, always wanting the best and the biggest, never satisfied with what we had. She wanted it so much that it drove her into a world of excess. By the time I knew what she was involved with, it was too late.
There are only a handful of people in this world that know what happened to Charlotte. I managed to keep the truth out of the news, for Penelope’s sake. She never needs to know that her mother was a cheating, drug addicted whore who slept with half the men in New York before overdosing on cocaine.
“Daddy?” Penelope’s frowns up at me. “Can I?”
“Can you what?”
“Have a sleepover with Emily?”
“Oh.” It’s the first time she’s asked to have a friend over. But from the things she’s told me about the girl, I’m not sure it’s a good idea. “I don’t know…”
“Pleeease,” she begs, blinking her blue eyes at me.
I sigh. “All right. But not this weekend. This weekend you’re going to your grandmother’s.”
And I’m finally going to make good on my promise to Brynne.
“Yay! Thank you, Daddy.” Penelope wraps her arms around my waist and squeezes hard, before grabbing her beg and racing up the stairs. “I’m going to call her now and let her know.”
I stand in the hall, clutching the piece of paper in my hand, and wondering where the time has gone. My little girl is growing up so fast. I just hope to God I’m doing things right.
I glance down at the sheet with the red marked A+ at the top.
My Hero My Dad, it reads in bolded letters across the top.
I swallow hard as I begin to read it.
My daddy is my hero because he is the best dad in the world. He doesn’t know how to cook, and sometimes he works too much, but he always finds time for me.
I don’t have a mommy. She’s an angel up in heaven. But I know my daddy is her hero too, because he gives me all of her love. I wish my mommy was still here. Maybe then my daddy would smile more. He smiles when he’s with me. But he’s sad. I think he misses mommy.
Ms. Sweet says that people are more important than things. I have a lot of things. I have a big house, with a big pool. And I have a pony that lives on a farm outside of the city. I even have a really big boat that daddy takes me on in the summer. But I don’t have a mommy.
Even though my daddy is the best, I wish I could give up all those things to have a mommy like everyone else.
Blowing out a breath, I rake my fingers through my hair, grief mixing with anger.
Grief for Penelope. Anger for Charlotte and her choices that denied our daughter a mother.
I fold the sheet and put it in my pocket, wincing when I think about Brynne reading it.
To the world, I carry myself with a steel core. Showing weakness is never an option. But Penelope exposed my Achilles’ heel – I’m fucking lonely. And for the first time in eight years, I feel like I’ve finally found someone I want to fill the void with.
Chapter 5
Brynne
My fingers shake as I apply the last touches of make-up. It’s already quarter to seven. Harrison will be here soon. If he shows up.
Part of me wonders if he won’t pull the same asshole move he pulled all those years ago. He’d promised to take me to the movies that night. My brother was taking Claire Hopkins, and I’d believed it was a double date. I’d found out later that my parents had asked him to invite me, hoping to make me a little more social.
But when I’d come downstairs to meet them, he had his arms wrapped around Jenny Anderson, his mouth on hers.
“You ready, kid?” he’d asked when he’d looked up and found me watching them, the grin I’d fallen in love with plastered across his face, like he didn’t realize he’d just broken my heart.
I’d uttered some excuse about not feeling well, then turned, barely making it to my room before the tears started to fall.
I hated him in that moment. I try to hold onto that feeling in order to give me strength to resist whatever temptation he throws at me tonight.
I thought about not answering. Or leaving before he arrives. Anything to get out of tonight. But then I read Penelope’s essay and my heart broke again. This time not for myself, but for everything he and that little girl lost.
For a moment, I saw the man behind the money and status. A man who loved and lost. And my own loss seemed insignificant in comparison. Maybe he didn’t deserve my anger as much as I believed he did.
Dinner. I can do that.
Maybe he’s more like me than I thought he was. Someone trapped behind an image the world has created. Someone wanting more than just the things money can buy.
The buzz of the intercom makes me jump.
He’s here.
I hesitate before answering. “Hello?”
“Hello, Ms. Sweet,” his voice is husky and deep, and goes straight to my core. “Can I come up?”
I have a feeling we’ll never make it to dinner if I let him back up here. If I’m going to do this – spend time with him – it’s going to need to be somewhere public.
“No.” I chew on my bottom lip and take a long, uneven breath, before finally responding. “I’ll be right down.”
I don’t listen for his response. One last glance in the mirror, and I nod. I can do this.
Maybe I’ll find some closure to the heartbreak I’ve carried around all these years.
Chapter 6
Harrison
Leaning against the limo, I wait for Brynne to come down. Minutes pass, and I start to wonder if she’s changed her mind, when the door finally opens.
Fuck.
The woman who exits is drop-dead gorgeous.
Her long auburn hair hangs in thick waves over her shoulders and down her back, and the dress she’s wearing accentuates every beautiful curve of her luscious body. She’s pure perfection. Green eyes watch me warily as she takes the steps towards me.
One eyebrow lifts when she glances at the limo, and instead of looking impressed, I swear she looks disappointed – in me.
A small frown plays on her lips, and I can see the doubts crossing her expression.
“You look beautiful.” I take her hand, distracting her from whatever excuse she’s forming in her head to get out of tonight.
“Thank you. You do too.” Her face reddens the moment she utters the words.
I chuckle and lift her hand, brushing my lips across her knuckles.
“Whe-where are we going?”
“I made reservations at Le Dix.” I open the door for her, glad I ordered the driver to stay in the car. She doesn’t seem like the type who enjoys being waited on. “It’s an Italian restaurant on the-”
“I know where it is,” she says, still frowning as she gets in the car.
“You’ve been there?” I ask, brows raised as I sit next to her. It’s not a place she could easily afford on a teacher’s salary.
She hesitates before nodding.
A surge of jealousy springs up in me as I think about another man taking her there.
She’s worrying her lip between her teeth even more now, and a deep line furrows her brow. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”
“We can go somewhere else if you prefer.”
“I…” She’s hiding something. I saw it before, but now, it’s even more obvious. “No, it’s fine. I guess.”
Frowning, I inform the chauffeur to drive.
Silent tension radiates off her, and despite my best attempts, I can’t get her to relax or answer me with anything more than one and two-word answers.
“Did you grow up in the city?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“But you went to school here?”
“Yes.”
“And your family-”
“I’d rather not talk about them.” Her voice is strained, lips tight. “Tell me about yourself.”
I can tell she’s just trying to take the attention off herself, but I indulge her anyways. Maybe after a few glasses of wine, she’ll start to
open up. I hope she does. Because I’m more than intrigued. I’m downright perplexed by the woman.
“I grew up here. Took over my father’s business after he died a few years ago. I have Penelope. And you already know that her mother passed away years ago.”
She gives a small, sympathetic nod. “I’m sorry.”
I grunt. Part of me wants to tell her I don’t need her sympathy. But I just continue, “We’ve gotten along fine.”
“Still, I’m sure it’s been hard, raising her alone.”
Shrugging, I change the subject, “What about you? Ever been married?”
“God, no,” she blurts out a little too forcefully. “I mean, no, I’ve never met anyone I’ve wanted to date, let alone marry.”
“You’ve never dated anyone?”
Pink creeps into her cheeks. “I’ve been on dates.”
“That’s not what I asked.
She’s saved from answering when the car pulls to a stop in front of the restaurant. Her fidgeting seems to increase as the driver opens the door. In fact, by the time we enter the building, I’m worried she’s going to bolt on me the way her gaze darts from me to the exit.
I take her elbow, and lean down and say against her ear, “If you want to go somewhere else-”
“Brynne,” the maître d’ says, his voice thick with a French accent. “I thought that was you. Magnifique.”
Brynne stiffens in my arms, a tight smile forming on her lips as she nods and allows the man to take her hand and kiss it. “Bonjour, Marcelle.”
How the hell does the man know her name? Maybe she worked here before she started teaching, and that’s why she didn’t want to come, because she was embarrassed.
I don’t have time to ask her, because Marcelle’s attention is turned to me. “And Monsieur Redmond. It’s good to have you back. Please follow me. I have your table ready.” He turns back to Brynne. “Although, I would have reserved your favorite table if I’d known you were with Mademoiselle Jeffri-”
“It’s all right, Marcelle,” Brynne interrupts a little too forcefully. “I’m sure whatever table you have will be perfect.”