Finding Brianne: New Pleasures Book 4

by Parker, M. S.

  Finding Brianne

  New Pleasures Book 4

  M. S. Parker

  Belmonte Publishing, LLC

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2018 Belmonte Publishing LLC

  Published by Belmonte Publishing LLC

  Contents

  Reading Order

  Free Prequel

  1. Clay

  2. Tess

  3. Clay

  4. Clay

  5. Tess

  6. Tess

  7. Clay

  8. Tess

  9. Clay

  10. Tess

  11. Clay

  12. Tess

  13. Clay

  14. Tess

  15. Clay

  16. Tess

  17. Clay

  18. Tess

  19. Clay

  20. Tess

  21. Tess

  22. Clay

  23. Tess

  24. Clay

  25. Tess

  26. Clay

  27. Tess

  28. Clay

  29. Tess

  30. Tess

  31. Clay

  32. Tess

  33. Tess

  34. Clay

  35. Tess

  Also by M. S. Parker

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Reading Order

  Thank you so much for reading Finding Brianne, the first book of Clay’s story. It can be read independently of the previous books in the New Pleasure series, but if you’d like to read the complete series, I recommend reading them in this order:

  Rona and Jalen

  1. Claimed by Him

  2. Played by Him

  3. Saved by Him

  Clay and Tess

  4. Finding Brianne (This Book)

  Free Prequel

  Get an exclusive prequel to the New Pleasures series! Click Here to subscribe to my newsletter and start reading the exclusive 50 pages prequel – NOT available anywhere else.

  One

  Clay

  “Are you going to beat yourself up over this the whole way home? Because if you are, I’m going to listen to this new audiobook Janelle gave me. It’s called Fifty something or other. She says it’ll spice up our love life.”

  Scratching the scruff on my chin, I looked over at the man next to me, hoping he wasn’t seriously going to subject me to that. Even though we’d only been partners for a few months, I knew he was purposefully trying to wind me up, and it was hard to say how far he’d go with it. He didn’t do it often, but whenever he felt like I was getting too far into my own head, he said shit to get a reaction.

  Sometimes, it worked.

  Sometimes, I responded by being an ass.

  “I’d be careful trying anything you hear in that book. I don’t know if your ancient heart could handle it.”

  He flipped up his middle finger in an easy gesture. “Your dick couldn’t handle it.”

  This was the side of FBI Agent Raymond Matthews that my circle of friends didn’t get to see. He might’ve been a little more casual around Rylan and Jenna Archer, but there was a difference between casual and the sort of comradery that went on between partners.

  Like flicking someone off and insulting each other’s manhood.

  Normally, that would’ve pulled me out of the funk I’d been in since realizing that my stupidity had almost cost the life of one of the most important people in my life.

  Rona Quick and I had known each other for five years, having met through her uncle, Anton. I’d promised him that I’d look out for her if anything happened to him. After he was murdered, I’d done my best to fulfill that promise.

  I knew Anton wouldn’t have approved of the fact that, less than a year ago, Rona and I had been lovers for a couple months, but the relationship hadn’t been anything salacious. We were both consenting adults, and we’d understood where things stood with us.

  If anything, I’d been the one who’d been more invested in things between us. She hadn’t even felt the need to tell me she was leaving when she was kicked out of Quantico, even though we’d been together less than twelve hours before.

  Which brought me back to the fact that I’d been an ass. A monumental ass.

  When I’d been assigned to the Denver office of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, I’d known Rona wasn’t too far away in Fort Collins, Colorado, working as a private investigator. I’d thought it was the perfect opportunity for us to have something more real than only sex. She hadn’t felt the same way. I’d thought it was just because she was young, but I’d been wrong. Her age hadn’t been the problem.

  I’d been the problem.

  Everything I’d thought I wanted with her, she’d only wanted with Jalen Larsen, a billionaire tech genius who also happened to be a great person.

  It was hard to compete with that.

  Back at Poudre Valley Hospital, seeing Jalen and Rona together hadn’t been easy. Making it worse was the fact that I’d made mistakes in the investigation into Rona’s disappearance, the biggest one of which had been not listening to what Jalen thought had happened. I’d put Rona in danger. I’d put Jalen in danger. All because I’d been jealous.

  “They’re good together, you know,” Ray said quietly. “They remind me of Jenna and Rylan.”

  “I know,” I snapped.

  That wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear, that Rona had found her soulmate or whatever. I’d seen Jenna and Rylan Archer together, and there wasn’t any other word to describe the two of them except soulmates. I didn’t doubt that Rona and Jalen were the same.

  “I don’t have the best track record with women,” Ray said as he turned on his windshield wipers to deal with the snow that had begun coming down a minute or so ago.

  “Really? I never would have known that.”

  My partner gave me a withering look that said he didn’t appreciate my sarcasm. He’d been divorced for eight years, and while he and his ex-wife co-parented their two kids pretty well together from what I understood, he didn’t hide the fact that he’d been a shitty husband and an oft-absent father. Like a lot of people in our profession, spouses and family too often took backseats to cases.

  He’d been dating Janelle for four months, and according to him, it was the longest he’d been with someone since the divorce. Again, not something that really made me want to put a whole lot of faith in whatever Ray said next.

  “But the one thing I know for sure is that it’s never good to be with a woman who’s in love with someone else.”

  Dammit.

  He was right. I didn’t want to be with someone who was in love with someone else. And I’d always known that Rona didn’t love me that way. She’d been honest from the start about what she’d wanted in our relationship, even if she hadn’t been entirely honest about other things in her life.

  “I’ve been watching you these past months,” Ray continued, “and I’ve realized something about you. You want to hear it?”

  I was damn sure I didn’t want to hear it, but I respected Ray, both professionally and personally. He was one of the best investigators I’d ever met, and I’d worked with men and women from various FBI offices all over the country. In his early fifties, he looked like he’d been around the block and then some, one of those unassuming kinds of guys who probably got underestimated all the time, allowing him to see and hear more than other people. No one really noticed him until he was nailing their asses to t
he wall.

  “Let me have it,” I said with a sigh.

  “I don’t think it’s Rona you love.” He held up a hand to stop me from responding. “I know you love her because you two are like family, but I don’t think you’re in love with her. I think you’re in love with the idea of her.”

  Sometimes it really sucked having such an observant partner.

  He shrugged. “No shame in it. I can see why you’d want that life. She’s a nice girl. Pretty. Strong. She’s smart and confident, but still has a part of her you can protect. And let’s face it, Clay, you’re a protector. You want a strong woman, but you want someone you can take care of too.”

  I scowled at him. “I think I’m ready for this conversation to be over.”

  “Doesn’t change the fact that I’m right.” With that statement, he reached over and flicked on the radio, fiddling with the channel until he found some country station that he knew would annoy me.

  At least that meant he was done analyzing my love life. Or rather, the lack of it since Rona and I weren’t together anymore.

  Except we hadn’t really been together in the first place. Not in any way that really mattered.

  Fuck.

  I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the headrest. The stress of the last month had my head pounding. Rona’s crazy father had escaped from prison. She’d been kidnapped and nearly sold at an auction. Well, she had been sold, but it’d been to her boyfriend, Jalen, who’d gone undercover when I hadn’t listened to him and Jenna.

  Our friendship had become strained, but I’d still busted my ass trying to find the men who’d taken her and her father. And I’d failed her. For the second time, Willis Jacobe almost killed his daughter. It had been thanks to Rona that her father had been the one in the body bag.

  I’d promised her uncle that I’d take care of her, and I’d done a shit job. Was that why it was so hard to now see her with Jalen? Because he’d done what I hadn’t been able to do? Or was it because she didn’t need me anymore?

  If I was being completely honest, I didn’t think Rona had ever really needed me. We had the same strengths, which I used to consider a positive thing because it had meant that we had a lot in common. Now, however, I understood that we needed at least some differences, ways to complement each other, to balance each other.

  She had that with Jalen. As much as the guy rubbed me the wrong way, I could see how good they were for each other. Just like Ray said.

  Which probably meant that Ray was right about everything else too. Including the fact that I was more in love with what Rona represented than I was with her.

  Fuck.

  It made sense.

  Dammit!

  I was glad that Ray couldn’t read my mind because I hated having to admit that I was wrong. The longer I thought, the more pieces clicked into place, and the more I was convinced that Ray was right.

  I wanted to have something solid, someone I could count on. Someone who needed me, but who I needed too. I wanted a family to come home to. I was heading toward my mid-thirties, and I was getting tired of casual sex and dating around. I loved sex but having it with Rona had made me want it to be something more. She was my friend, and I’d convinced myself that she was the reason why I wanted more. I wasn’t jealous of Jalen having Rona. I was jealous that Rona and Jalen had something special.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  I was suddenly glad I had a shitload of paperwork waiting for me. Maybe that would keep my mind off things long enough for me to move past all the awkwardness and get back to being Rona’s friend.

  Maybe I could even get to the point where I didn’t want to punch Jalen every time I saw him. That’d be real progress.

  Two

  Tess

  Even with the declining sales for newspapers and magazines, the New York Times kept a skeleton crew on staff during holidays, just in case something important happened. I’d interned here during college and had made major points with my boss because I’d always volunteered to come in on holidays. This year wasn’t any different. Everyone thought ambition drove me to it, but while I didn’t deny I was ambitious, I had ulterior motives. If I worked holidays, I had the perfect excuse not to fly home to Arizona and spend the time with my family.

  Correction, with my mother.

  My father left my mother when I was ten. He stayed in touch until I was eighteen, sending me gifts on Christmas and my birthday, but never coming to see me. A graduation card with a check for a hundred dollars was the last thing I’d gotten from him. None of his cards ever had return addresses on them, and with a name like Joseph Gardener, trying my luck with a simple online search had been like looking for a needle in three haystacks. I finally decided that if he wanted to talk to me, he could find me.

  The guys my mom had dated after the divorce had generally been assholes, but the biggest bastard of them all, Darius, had sent us running from our home in Washington, DC, heading west to Arizona where my mom’s family lived. Even though I’d spent two and a half years there before going off to college in New York, I didn’t consider it home, and I wasn’t close to the extended family I had there.

  That left Brianne. Two years older than me, I’d idolized her most of my childhood and teenage years. When she enlisted in the army, our recently strained relationship became distant for a few years, and her letters had eventually tapered off to the occasional postcard to let me know she was alive.

  Listening to Mom complain about how her daughters had abandoned her wasn’t my idea of a pleasant way to spend any day, let alone a holiday. I liked her new boyfriend, even if he was a little dull, but even he wasn’t enough to keep her from being disappointed when Brianne and I both missed year after year.

  Sometimes, I wondered how she didn’t get it. No child wanted to listen to constant nagging about every aspect of their life.

  “You get stuck with today too?”

  A woman’s voice drew my thoughts away from my family. I looked up to see a familiar face wearing an equally familiar expression. Lanie’s dark eyes were bloodshot, and her usually perfect hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail. She was dressed professionally but lacked her usual style. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what she’d been doing last night.

  “Looks like you had fun,” I said. “How late were you out?”

  She shrugged, then winced, as if the simple movement hurt her head. “I was far too wasted to even bother looking at the time, but it was before dawn. I know that.” She sipped from the coffee cup she had clutched between her hands. “At least it looks like it’s going to be a slow news day.”

  Lanie was right about that. Politicians doing and saying stupid things wasn’t much of a story anymore, and while we occasionally covered celebrity news, we tried to shy away from tabloid fodder. That didn’t leave us with much to cover unless something big happened. Another reason low-rung reporters like me volunteered to work holidays was because it was often the only way we got the chance to cover anything important.

  My first year as an intern, I’d seen a fledgling reporter who’d only been at the Times for less than two years scoop everyone on a massive scandal involving a lobbyist, the son of the Greek diplomat, and two underage prostitutes being arrested for indecent exposure in Times Square on the Fourth of July. The diplomat’s son had also stolen a police horse while trying to flee from the cops, adding just enough humor to make the story stand out from the usual political crap.

  We could all hope for such luck.

  “Did you go anywhere last night?” Lanie asked. “I heard Jeff ask you to a party in his building.”

  I shook my head. “He asked, but I said no. I don’t really like parties.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to like parties to hook up with someone as hot as Jeff.”

  I leaned back in my chair and picked up my stress ball, tossing it from hand to hand. “I don’t date people from work.”

  “Who said anything about dating?” She flashed an overly bright smil
e. “Have you seen Jeff’s ass? You could bounce a quarter off that thing.”

  “I’m not going to sleep with anyone at work either.” I pointed at her, narrowing my eyes. “And don’t start with how you didn’t say anything about sleeping.”

  She laughed, then sucked in a pained breath as she pressed the heel of her hand against her eyebrow.

  “That’s what you get for making fun of me for staying home.” I squeezed the stress ball in my hand, the way I dealt with my need to fidget while I was at work. “My head’s fine this morning.”

  “Bitch,” Lanie said without any real rancor.

  I’d learned months ago that Lanie’s curses were more often used as terms of affection and friendship than they were of insult. She could come across a little rough, but she was a good person. We weren’t close, but I liked to think we were friends, even if only work ones.

  “Who else is here today?” Lanie asked. “I know you were the first one here.”

  “How do you know that?” I asked, startled.

  She snorted and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Because you’re always the first person here.”

  I hadn’t realized anyone noticed. I didn’t comment on it though, instead choosing to answer her question about who was here. I knew if I deflected, she wouldn’t turn the conversation back to me, not for something as mundane and uninteresting as my work habits, and that was what I wanted. I didn’t like talking about myself.