by Jaime Reese
Vann stared at the papers and flipped to the next page. His eyes rounded and he gulped when he saw the number of zeroes next to a long account number with his name.
“It’s made a lot of interest over the years.”
“Uh…no shit.” Vann turned the page and looked at the account detail, lowering his brow when he noticed the dates of each deposit transaction. “This was before I got paroled.”
“Those are the dates for each transaction as they happened. The date I opened the corporation, the date of each sale.”
He looked up. “But I was serving a life sentence. I wasn’t supposed to get out.”
A soft smile spread across Drayton’s lips. “I never lost hope.”
Vann looked down at the papers, furrowing his brow and fighting the emotions swirling in the pit of his stomach. Drayton hadn’t received a letter in response, hadn’t seen him, hadn’t spoken to him…and yet, he hadn’t lost hope that someday their paths would cross again. Fucking Dray and his special words were clouding his vision.
“It’s in a trust because I didn’t want to risk your father or anyone else getting their hands on your share of the money. You decide what you want to do with it and how you want to spend it. All that’s yours, fair and square.” Drayton hid a smile when Vann finally made eye contact. “Any attorney or financial person will agree with me. You won’t take something for nothing and neither will I. So don’t you dare try giving it back to me.”
Vann didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do. He returned his focus to the papers in his hand. He couldn’t think straight with all the swirling thoughts in his mind. All this time, Drayton hadn’t forgotten about him. Saying it on the day he picked him up at the prison was one thing, but seeing the dated transactions left little up for dispute.
“This levels the playing field with respect to the money. I invented the tech that runs the model you designed. You can’t do what I do and I can’t do what you do. You’ve always told me I have the brains in this relationship, well you sure as hell have the creativity. I’m the overthinker who analyzes the hell out of everything and needs facts and a firm plan while you always trust your instincts and have faith in things and don’t fear diving into the unknown. We have a symbiotic relationship that just works. Period.”
“And I see you’re still bossy.”
“It’s one of the qualities you’ve always loved about me.” Drayton placed a kiss to Vann’s temple then rose from the couch. “I’m going to start on breakfast. Come join me when you finish going through all the arguments in your head and finally come to the same conclusion.”
A chuckle escaped Vann when Drayton finally walked away. He definitely liked this outright confident, no-holds-barred side of Dray. He stared at the paper in his hand, counting and recounting all the zeroes on the account. He couldn’t imagine that much money. The way things worked, he figured this was all on paper and he’d likely never really see stacks of bills totaling this amount. But he knew, all too well, how the number of zeroes mattered to some people. And for some, it meant everything.
Money created barriers. Money changed people.
And that was what scared him the most.
He understood the logic behind Drayton’s words, but he couldn’t ignore the heavy weight bearing down on his shoulders. He hadn’t had much growing up and had barely made it by on some days. A little money often went a long way, and he had always made it stretch like rubber when he was on his own. With Drayton, he’d be happy if he weren’t on the cliff’s edge of the financial spectrum. He didn’t need much. Growing up, he only needed enough so he could occasionally take Drayton out for a burger or a movie and not have to worry about saving up or finding a coupon that would allow him to scrape up enough to grab some popcorn too. That was all he had ever needed growing up, and Drayton never made him feel less than because of it.
But this was too much.
The power that came with this type of money unsettled him. He often heard people listing tons of expensive items they’d buy if they won the lottery or hit some big jackpot. He had played that game too when he was younger. But that was all it was…a game. In reality, buying items from a dream list would burn through the money faster than one of the cars in Drayton’s line.
Then there was the dark side of that coin. The ugly side. The side where rich parents ignored their children. Where rich kids ignored their friends. Where a father entered his son’s room with a nine iron because he was too worried about what his other rich friends would think.
He never wanted to be that guy. The one who hurt people he loved, the one who didn’t care about anyone but themselves. The thought alone ran a chill through his body.
He had struggled his entire life and had fought to earn everything, refusing to ever be a shadow of the lazy, heartless man his father was.
Drayton was now handing him a golden ticket. Well, more like a platinum ticket.
And then some.
Regardless of what his father had told him his entire life, regardless of what some people had whispered or outright yelled to his face…he was a smart man. He had wished, far too many times, to be someone else, and he was smart enough to recognize this was one hell of an opportunity presented to him with a huge flashing neon sign and waving banners.
He neatly stacked the documents and returned them to the translucent envelope, wrapping the string around the button as multi-million thoughts circled his mind. He rose from the couch and walked to the kitchen. Drayton looked up at him when he entered, but resumed buttering the toast without saying a word.
Vann crossed his arms as his eyes scanned the kitchen. Shit. Was anything in this place less than perfect? The kitchen was almost entirely white except for the chrome appliances and the food Drayton currently cooked on the stove. The countertop added a small splash of color, but nothing dramatic—just tiny sparkles of gray, silver, and blue.
“What is this?” he asked, sliding his fingertips along the smooth surface.
“Recycled glass and concrete.”
He cocked his head, watching Drayton work in the kitchen. “It’s killing me. Why is everything white or chrome here and at your office?”
Drayton switched off the burner and served the bacon on the plate. “It’s…I don’t know. I guess it helps me think better. When I’m at my office or here, I have ideas running through my mind and solutions come quicker. I’m not distracted by the things around me.” He turned off the other burner and scooped out the scrambled eggs onto the plates.
“When you go somewhere with a picture hanging on the wall, do you still stare at it?” Then again, with a view of the Atlantic like this, who the hell needed a picture on the wall?
Drayton smiled. “Always. To the point of losing my train of thought.”
Vann smiled. He remembered walking into a pizza shop with Drayton one day when they were kids and how mesmerized Drayton had been when he’d spotted the photos cataloging the family and business history. His senses had immediately gone into overdrive, surrounded with so much history to explore in the small shop. Drayton was undeniably smart, but he was also incredibly inquisitive with a dire need to know and understand the tiniest of details of each and every story. Vann imagined the exhaustion of his mind running non-stop at full force with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and information.
“I do have some pictures up on my walls in my office,” Drayton added.
Vann snorted in amusement. “Artistic color variations of the same sketch I did that you used for the first model release. It’s the same picture. Just colored differently.”
Drayton looked up with a grin. “I know every millimeter of each of those pictures. So it doesn’t distract me.”
Vann laughed and shook his head. He took a deep breath and leaned forward on the countertop. “About the folder.” He waited for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. Drayton pushed a plate across the countertop and handed him a fork. “Um, can you still have your money people handle things? I wouldn’t kno
w what to do with that stuff.”
“If that’s what you want, I can have that arranged.” Drayton drank his orange juice then set the glass down on the countertop, carefully watching Vann as he ate.
Vann poked at the eggs, taking small bites to enjoy every tiny ounce of flavor that burst in his mouth. How the hell did everything taste so damn delicious outside of prison?
“What’s worrying you the most?” Drayton asked, returning him to his dilemma.
“I’m worried it’s going to change me. That I might become one of those assholes I hated growing up.”
Drayton gave him a lopsided grin. “You’re too stubborn. I don’t think all the money in the world could ever turn you into one of those guys.”
Vann picked up a strip of bacon and took a bite, battling between enjoying the food and taming the thoughts racing in his mind.
Drayton walked around the counter toward him, wrapping his arms around Vann’s waist and pulling him close. “Do you think I’ve changed?”
Vann held the bacon strip to Drayton’s mouth, offering him a bite. “You have…but in a good way.” He added the latter when Drayton’s brow lowered as he chewed. “That type of money makes people do really silly things sometimes. Or makes them cruel and insensitive. I don’t want to get caught up in all that.” He finished the bacon and wrapped his arms around Drayton’s shoulders.
Drayton pressed a kiss to his temple. “Money helps, I’m not going to lie to you. You know that firsthand.”
Vann nodded, burying his nose in Drayton’s hair.
“But its significance to you is what you make of it. How it affects you depends on you.” He paused for a moment when Vann tugged him closer. “Think of it this way. Some people would run and pick the flashiest car possible and probably buy a few of them in different colors to match their shoes or something. I know you’d never do that. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders and an amazing heart in that big strong chest of yours. As long as you stay true to who you are you will always be that incredible man I know and love, regardless of how many zeroes are linked to your account.”
Vann remained quiet, resting his head against Drayton’s shoulder and absently tracing his fingertip along Drayton’s clavicle. There was no way he could handle this kind of money. Maybe he could talk to Drayton’s accounting person. Maybe he could find a way to…
“You’re not giving it back. So stop trying to think of ways to do that. You can’t.”
He chuckled. Drayton knew him well. “It’s a lot. Can’t I…reinvest it in the company? At least part of it?”
Drayton slid his hands inside Vann’s boxer briefs and cupped his ass. “Nice try. I have a clause in the company paperwork capping annual reinvestment funds. So you can never reinvest more than fifty percent of your profits in the company. I can’t even reinvest all my earnings. I figured you’d try that shit.” He tugged Vann closer. “You’re taking this better than I expected.”
“I don’t think it’s hit me yet.” Vann quieted, trying to focus on the strong fingers kneading his ass cheeks instead of the thoughts swirling in his mind. “So that money…that account…is that all the money you’ve made?”
“No. That’s all yours. It’s your half minus the reinvestment percentage I already knew you would try to give back,” he said with a wolfish grin.
Vann sighed. Fucking Drayton was too damn smart. “So you run the company without touching that money?”
“Yes.”
“Or your part of the profits?”
“Yes. Company money is separate from our earnings and profits. I’ve used part of my percentage of the profits for several investments I’ve made outside of the automotive industry to balance my portfolio.”
Portfolio? Vann sighed again. His head was going to explode with all the terminology and imagining how much money all that totaled. “I can’t handle knowing all that right now. But…I’m curious. What else have you invested in?”
“I don’t own this penthouse. I own the building.”
He closed his eyes and tightened his hold around Drayton, burying his face at the side of his neck. “I don’t know what to do.”
Drayton pressed another kiss to his temple. “No one said you had to do anything. And you sure as hell don’t need to do anything right now. Write down whatever questions you have so you don’t forget any of them. Next week, I’ll talk with Matt and Julian to find out about whatever forms or permissions are needed so I can get you to an appointment with my financial manager and lawyer. That way, you can ask them your questions and they can give you options. Maybe start with setting up an account with some money so it’s there for you if you want something. It’s up to you, what you do and how you want to do it.”
“I just want you.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He tugged Drayton closer and took a deep breath. “I’m not eating weird foods I can’t pronounce.”
Drayton brushed his nose against Vann’s hair and chuckled, the low rumble vibrating against Vann’s ear. “You can eat whatever you want.”
“I don’t want to wear suits.”
“You don’t have to wear them if you don’t want to.” Drayton dug his fingers deeper into Vann’s ass cheeks. “Personally, I love the way jeans hug your perfectly round ass.”
“I’m surprised the sight of that doesn’t distract,” he teased.
Drayton brushed his lips against Vann’s in a barely-there kiss. “I know it well. So it doesn’t distract me…much.” He added the last part with a smile as he bit his lower lip.
“You were never a good liar.” Vann closed his eyes as his growing hard-on brushed against Drayton’s ready body. He leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together to focus on the conversation. “I’m keeping my job, and I don’t want to change anything until the end of my parole. I’m not going to risk screwing anything up until I’m officially a free man.”
“You don’t need to change anything. Don’t let the money drive your decisions. Okay?” Drayton continued once Vann nodded. “There are no hard and fast rules or timetables. The money will sit there and earn interest in the meantime. I know, in the back of your mind, you still don’t think you’ve earned it. But you have. You created that design. It’s something that came from your vision and your creativity. And that talent has value. I’ve worked with a few other designers since the launch and their designs don’t compare to yours.”
Vann took a deep breath. Damn. The things Drayton said to him always twisted his stomach. “You have a library of special words.”
Drayton pressed a tender kiss to his lips. “It’s easy where you’re concerned. Because you’re amazing.” He nuzzled the side of Vann’s face. “And insanely sexy. And it’s even sexier that you don’t even know how hot you are.” He sucked Vann’s earlobe into his mouth then released the tender flesh from between his teeth.
“I know I’m hot. You keep telling me that so it’s hard to forget.” Vann inched back, forcing Drayton to stop his teasing exploration. “You know what else I am?”
“What’s that?” Drayton whispered, unable to break his stare from Vann’s mouth.
“I’m incredibly horny.”
“And what…do you plan to do about that?” Drayton’s gaze slowly swept up from Vann’s mouth to his eyes—the desire unmistakable in Drayton’s heavy-lidded stare.
“I plan to fuck you senseless the entire weekend until you beg me to stop.”
“I’ll never beg you to stop.”
Vann gripped Drayton’s wrists and braced his hands out to the sides against the kitchen countertop. “Come Monday, I don’t want you to think of anything other than how I feel inside you.” Vann ground his hips into Drayton, reveling in the low groan emerging from Drayton’s throat. He ran his tongue up the column of Drayton’s neck then whispered into his ear. “I’m going to fuck you, over and over, until your body memorizes how it feels to have me inside you and reminds you of that feeling every time you move.”
Drayton pushed his
groin into Vann’s, tilting his head backward in a slow motion as if lost in the sensation of the moment.
Vann released Drayton’s hands and fisted his hair, slamming their mouths together in a fevered kiss. His heart raced as he dug his fingers into Drayton’s scalp, twisting and turning his head, deepening the kiss when Drayton responded with equal desperation and need. He shoved his hand down Drayton’s briefs, groaning into the kiss when he tightly wrapped his fingers around Drayton’s heated skin.
Drayton dug his fingers into Vann’s shoulders, hissing each breath as Vann slid his hand up and down his hard length. “Fuck,” he whispered, ripping himself from the kiss.
“Not yet. I’m just warming you up right now.” In a quick sweep of movement, Vann pushed the breakfast plates to the side, sending one crashing to the floor.
Screw it. The first thing he’d buy would be a replacement dish.
He yanked Drayton’s briefs down and bent, gripping Drayton behind his legs and pulling his body up and onto the pretty glass kitchen countertop in one swift move. He leaned over and took Drayton into his mouth to the back of his throat in a single swallow.
“Shit!” Drayton yelled, arching his body, pushing himself deeper into Vann’s welcoming mouth.
Vann sucked and licked, drawing every moan and whimper he could pull from Drayton. He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of Drayton filling his senses. He pulled with more force, craving the slide of the silky heated skin against his tongue, desperate to cram a decade’s worth of missed time into every second. He dug his fingers into Drayton’s powerful thighs and yanked him closer with a possessive growl, groaning when the closely cropped hair tickled his nose.
A yell ripped from Drayton’s throat and his body bowed.
Vann quickly swallowed every drop of Drayton’s release, yearning for every tiny sound of pleasure echoing in the large space. A few moments later, he finally released Drayton, pressing tender kisses to his stomach and up his torso, smiling when Drayton flinched with the sensation. “I’m not done with you yet,” he whispered as he kiss-bit Drayton’s jaw.
Drayton weakly chuckled and ran his fingers through Vann’s hair. “I sure as hell hope not.”