Tightwad (Caldwell Brothers Book 2)

by Colleen Charles

  Distracted by the indentations of my abs, I stop to trace them with my fingertips, a move that I know drives him wild. He moans his suffering, which just causes me to continue.

  “Taryn, I want your mouth on me right now. You’re not being a very good listener.”

  I chuckle. “If you thought I’d be a good listener, you never should have asked me to marry you. I’ve been known to have selective hearing.”

  “How wet are you, Taryn?”

  “I can feel it pooling between my legs. Too bad you’re not going to get to feel it.”

  He keeps his eyes trained on mine, and I like it. No. I love it, because it’s a complete role reversal. His mouth may be shooting commands, but he’s completely under the spell of my hands and mouth. My fingers stroke his cock as I lean in to kiss it. I moan, a soft hum against his shaft, and stop when he jerks in response to the vibrations. Then I let my tongue play over the head, moving to the underside. I’m fighting it. Fighting the urge to push forward and swallow him whole. It’s what I want. I know it’s what he wants, but he needs to be punished for being such a cocky bastard a few minutes ago.

  I purse my lips and suck, slowly trying to get more of my massive dick inside my mouth. God, I love how he threads his hands through my hair, yanking it, controlling the pressure. I bring both hands up, stroking with both palms as I continue sucking on the head. His balls tighten and I know he’s close. And I want to take it all, so I caress them and give a little tug.

  “Fuck, Taryn. That feels so good. I want to be inside you.”

  Ultimately, he’s stronger than me and in one deft move, he lifts me up, grabs me around the waist and yanks my thong right off from underneath my pencil skirt. I gasp in surprise when he drops me down on his erect cock, fully seating himself with one massive stroke.

  With one hand holding me stable against the wall, his other strokes my pussy lips, brushing back and forth between them just as he drags it up to flick my swollen clit. I’m soaking wet. All I want is for him to start moving.

  “Reagan, you feel so good. Fuck me, please. Hard.”

  “I like it, too. So damn much. You’re so hot, Taryn. So wet and tight. I feel like I’m going to lose my shit.”

  I moan and fling my head back, urging him on. I can feel my flushed skin. I’m close and all I have to do is reach out and take it. Reagan increases his speed on my engorged clit, working it back and forth to the speed of his frantic thrusts. In seconds, I convulse around him, and he explodes inside me, the spasms of my pussy milking every last drop from his body.

  “That was incredible. Remind me to lock the door more often.”

  “I don’t think I’ll need to remind you.” He smiles at me and his eyes take on a dreamy light. “I’m with the smartest woman in the world, and I have no doubt she’ll be the most perfect wife and mother any man could ever ask for. It seems like you can do no wrong with me. It’s always been that way, Taryn. I’ve loved you since the moment I first laid eyes on you.”

  I don’t speak but just nuzzle his neck, inhaling that special scent that always makes my heart skip a beat.

  “I love you, Taryn,” Reagan says again, tipping my chin up to meet his tender gaze. “And I always will.”

  “I love you, too, funny man.”

  As I kiss my gorgeous man and swoon in his arms, I realize that I’ve never been more excited for what the future holds. Together, nothing can stop us. Because we’re a team. Now and forever.

  Epilogue

  I sit down at my mahogany desk, admiring my own reflection. Sandra, my assistant, has polished the wood to a high sheen. I’m pleased so I won’t fire her.

  Yet.

  “Sandra, where the fuck is my espresso?” I thunder into the intercom. My lunch doesn’t agree with me and my stomach’s blustering as loud as my voice. “You’re asking for it, woman!”

  The door to my office swings open and a petite blonde girl with big eyes steps forward, holding a steaming mug. She’s hot as hell, and that’s the way I like it. As soon as I have her trained in properly and under my thumb, I’ll see if she can suck my cock as good as she can keep my schedule.

  “Sir, I’m so sorry,” she babbles. “There are some men here to see you, and I was attending to them.”

  “I’m your fucking boss,” I spit out. Flecks of ham-scented spittle fly through the air and dot Sandra’s silk blouse. Watching the tiny droplets makes me happy. I love marring beautiful things. Especially, when those things are female. “You attend to my needs first, you got that?”

  Sandra nods, looking frightened. I wonder if she’ll wear that same look the first time I slit her wide open. I wonder what she’ll taste like. I wonder what she’ll feel like with her tight pussy throbbing around my cock, strangling it.

  “Sir, Anthony and Chucky are here to see you. Should I show them in, or would you like to catch up on your calls?”

  I close my eyes and sigh, reaching into my pocket, and pulling out a greasy handkerchief to wipe my damp forehead.

  “Show them in, please,” I say. “And don’t forget my goddamned biscotti this time. And make sure my coffee is strong enough, or the caterer’s fucking fired.”

  Sandra squeaks before walking into the hallway and clearing her throat. I listen to her melodic voice as she calls my henchmen. A long moan is going to sound really good coming out of her throat. As they walked into my office, Sandra brushes past with a handful of chocolate biscotti sticks.

  “Your dessert, sir,” Sandra says, setting the biscotti down on my desk and skittering away. As she leaves the room, Anthony and Chucky burst into boorish laughter.

  “Your fuckin’ dessert, boss?” Chucky asks, his ruddy face gleaming with sweat. “What’s next, her exposed pussy so you can lick it?”

  “Shut the fuck up!” I growl. “Why are you here at lunchtime? How many times have I told you yahoos that noon to one is lunch and I don’t like to be disturbed unless your hair’s on fire or someone’s dead.”

  Chucky and Anthony fall silent. They exchange a nervous look and Chucky clears his throat.

  “Sir, if I–”

  “Shut the fuck up and get to the point,” I demand. I ball one hand into a fist and slam it down on my desk. “This isn’t a meeting time, as I’ve just clearly stated. What the fuck do you want?” I jiggle my top drawer, slide it open, and pull out a bottle of antacid tablets, tossing five or six into my mouth.

  “Sir, it’s about the fashion show,” Chucky says, seeming fascinated with his own shoes. I wish I had a Glock so I could put a cap in his forehead. Worthless piece of shit. I lean forward and see Anthony’s hands twist into a gnarled lump in his lap.

  I wave my arm through the air, frustration and indigestion getting the better of me. “Get to it!”

  Chucky and Anthony glance at each other, their eyes wide with fear.

  “Ford Caldwell – Nixon’s brother – well, he was responsible for…” Chucky trails off, and I don’t need for him to finish before I’m seething with rage.

  “For sabotaging you, sir,” Anthony interrupts, clearing his throat. “He wrote the virus that took down your DJ. It’s for certain.”

  My throat constricts, and my eyes begin to water with rage. Choking for air, I gasp a deep inhale and suck it in my flaming lungs like a fish.

  “Caldwell’s done. Done!” I say, seething, trembling, plotting. “I’ve had enough, and I’m not playing anymore. See that it happens this time. If there’s a mistake, I’ll kill both of you and send your corpses home to your long-suffering mothers in pieces.”

  “Okay, sir,” Chucky says. “Consider it done. No mistakes.”

  BONUS STORY - WASTED LOVE

  By

  Colleen Charles

  Prologue

  Ashton

  The hard length of his body slithered down mine and I couldn’t stifle my groan. I gripped the sides of the narrow twin bed and braced myself for it. The pain.

  “Are you okay with this?” Quinn asked. His clear blue eyes narrowed with
his concern.

  At this point, it was too late to be worried. Like a runaway freight train, there was no stopping this trip down the tracks. He was naked. I was naked. We were already at the edge of passion, with one foot dangling over the cliff. All we had to do was let go.

  “I’m sure,” I whispered and nodded my head. A barely perceptible shake.

  Thousands of butterflies fluttered inside my stomach and my knees trembled, but I wasn’t backing out. No way. I’d dreamt of this moment every single day for years. As far back as I could remember really. For as long as I’d held understanding of what happened between a man and a woman when they loved one another. How they physically expressed that love.

  I now laid exposed in the bed with Quinn Andrews, my older brother’s best friend, living out a secret fantasy I’d had since the day that boys had replaced Malibu Barbie in my private fantasies. Tonight he’d receive the ultimate gift. He was about to take me places that a virgin could only dream about. My lips quivered, my skin glistened with perspiration, and the gentle swelling from deep in my loins grew more intense with each heartbeat. Ready. Completely and utterly ready to be taken by this man.

  “Good,” he said with a smile, and his gorgeous eyes locked with mine again. Sparkling with desire. “Just tell me if it starts to hurt. We’ll go nice and slow.”

  I drew my lower lip under my front teeth and nodded in agreement. His gentle hands gathered the strands of hair clinging to my face and tucked them behind my ear. It was the little things that Quinn did that made my heart go flip-flop. I couldn’t wait to feel all the passionate feelings I’d only read about before tonight. We’d climax together. It couldn’t happen any other way.

  “You are so goddamn gorgeous,” he said, as if pushing back my bangs allowed him to see my face for the first time.

  Oh boy, I thought to myself, hurry up and make love to me, Quinn. I want to feel it. All of it. Pain quickly replaced by pleasure.

  I watched him pump himself a couple of times, eyes widening. Hard to believe that gigantic member would fit inside my slight body. A flood of wetness pooled between my legs at the sight of his pulsing erection. As if to tease me, he brushed the tip across my slippery flesh and I felt an answering tug deep in my core. Then, very carefully, he slid into my untried pussy.

  I stuffed a fist in my mouth to muffle the cry from the excruciating burn. Because I felt ripped in two, split wide open and I automatically stiffened. Not moving a muscle in order to protect myself from further discomfort. Slowly, he inched in further, not breaking his promise to be careful, until he was buried all the way inside of me. It was uncomfortable for a moment, and I was surprised by just how deep I could feel him. I struggled to adjust to his girth and couldn’t stop the tears that moistened my eyes.

  Quinn wiped them away and, with a look of concern, asked me, “Are you okay, Ashton?”

  I gave him a weak smile, a bit embarrassed for crying. My body had betrayed me, and my emotions were all over the place. I’d just become a woman. But I wiggled my hips ever so slightly, guiding his tip to every spot deep inside. Then, like the flip of a switch, the pain and discomfort erupted into immeasurable pleasure. More wetness pooled and enveloped his cock and I squealed with delight.

  Once Quinn saw this excitement, he pulled back and thrust himself in again, a bit harder this time. Again he hit the mark and my back arched involuntarily, a reflex of pleasure. Soon we found a comfortable rhythm as my hips matched his every move, his every stroke.

  “Oh, Ashton! Babe, you are so tight,” Quinn breathed. He pumped harder and faster, as his breathing grew heavier. “Damn, this feels so good.”

  Every stroke was bliss. For what felt like an eternity he pummeled into me. I wanted to scream his name and every expletive I could think of, but all I could manage was a series of moans as I bit hard on my knuckles.

  With one last forceful plunge he slid all the way, his balls smacking against my ass, as he called out my name, “Ashton! Oh God, I’m coming.”

  Unfortunately, I didn’t quite reach the orgasm that I’d read all about in my bookshelf of romance novels and issues of Cosmopolitan. I knew how to pleasure myself, but I was looking forward to that mind-crushing, toe-curling orgasm that only came from having an experienced lover. Maybe next time? Or maybe those orgasms I had read about were just as fictional as the characters that experienced them.

  Quinn collapsed on top me and kissed my forehead. “Princess, that was awesome. You okay?”

  I nodded. Maybe it was due to the lack of said toe curling orgasm, but my only thought was that I hoped the condom didn’t break.

  ***

  Griffin was ready to smoke a bowl. The party hadn’t gone too late, but most of the girls had midnight curfews and already left. It’s no secret that once the girls are gone, the party’s over. Now it was almost one in the morning and Quinn had gone AWOL like a frightened soldier. He hoped his friend hadn’t skipped out on him with that chick he’d been flirting with earlier. Bros before hos.

  The house was a complete mess and he needed help cleaning up before his parent’s came home tomorrow. Ashton would help a little, but not without bitching. He showed the last stragglers out the front door and, after surveying the mess, went to look for Quinn.

  He checked his parent’s room first, which was supposed to be off-limits to his friends. No Quinn. But if he were lucky, his father would have left some dope in his stash in the closet. How cool was it that his dad smoked weed? Griffin knew a lot of parents did it, but his dad had always been open about it. Surely he wouldn’t mind it if Griffin borrowed a bit in this time of need right? He’d replenish it later with even better stuff than his dad could procure.

  Griffin wandered into the closet and flipped the light switch. At the same time, a faint voice whispered something from behind his back, startling him. He turned around but no one was there. He heard the whisper again, this time it was joined by a blinking green light in the corner of the room. It was the baby monitor. Which was strange, because his parents had taken his baby brother and left for a weekend to visit his uncle Mark in Encino.

  He slid onto his parent’s bed, picked up the baby monitor and pressed it flush to his ear. There were two voices – male and female – whispering and giggling. Unable to make out what they were saying, Griffin hit a button that turned on the monitor’s video screen, which was linked to an infrared camera in the corner of the room. Damn technology. Mom would blush at the other uses she hadn’t even considered.

  He smiled as the video feed came in, grainy and broken. Two figures had taken advantage of the tiny twin bed in the corner of his baby brother’s room. His dad and mom used to take turns sleeping on that bed when his brother was teething and had trouble sleeping through the night in his crib. It hadn’t been used in a while, until now.

  Boy, they were really going at it. Griffin chuckled as he gave the monitor a shake in a futile effort to clear the feed. Who in the hell was that in there? The screen was small, so it was kind of hard to tell which of his friends had just hit the pussy jackpot. He turned up the volume.

  “Oh God, Ashton…” Griffin heard the voice loud and clear. It was his best friend, Quinn. He smiled for a second before it registered – did he say Ashton? Griffin balled up his fists. White hot rage permeated every cell in his body and he hissed in a ragged breath to keep from passing out. His best friend was fucking his sister! It took everything he had not to go into that room and knock Quinn off of her. Rip his dick off and jam it down his throat. Punch the bastard into unconsciousness. How dare his best friend take advantage of his baby sister? That was the ultimate betrayal.

  Griffin jerked the baby monitor off the charger and tossed it against the wall, smashing it into tiny pieces. His best friend had just broken the number one rule of Bro Code! You don’t sleep with your best friend’s sister or girlfriend.

  Ever.

  Now Quinn had to pay.

  Chapter One

  Ashton

  TEN YEARS LATER

>   The ladies room seemed like the perfect place for me to gather up my courage and muster some kick-ass, psycho mumbo-jumbo in order to face the corporate suits waiting for me in the conference room. A little lip gloss, a little bullshit.

  Staring at the mirror, I recited over and over, “I’m smart, I’m a great negotiator, I don’t give up…and I am NOT going to puke all over the conference room this time.” I stuck my tongue out, the mirror reflecting my silly face right back at me.

  Dear God, I needed some makeup. Deep in my bag I found some nude gloss, a tube of black mascara, and some bronzing powder. Either this bathroom, with its soft yellow tiles and low lighting, made my skin look sallow and washed out, or I needed a damn vacation. Probably the latter. Maybe somewhere tropical and warm where I could soak up the sun and get my tan on. But first, I needed to close this damn deal. The deal of the century. The career maker.

  My boss, Henri, had all the confidence in the world in me to get it done. He hadn’t even bothered to come with me to the meeting. No need for babysitting because everyone knew I excelled at everything I did. So what if my perfectionist tendencies and reputation as an alpha hard-ass had kept all the possible suitors away from me? Running like scared pussies with their hair on fire.

  Henri’s last words had been, “You’ve got this kid. Don’t let me down.”

  So if this deal did go through, I could be on my way to Tahiti or the Bahamas really soon. Deeply tanned skin, mojitos on the beach, cute cabana boys waiting on me hand and foot. The one night stand I desperately needed but never seemed to have time for because I was married to my career.

  Okay, Ashton, concentrate. You need to seal the deal. I slicked on the nude gloss and swiped some mascara across my lashes. A touch of bronzer and I thought I looked pretty damn good. My cosmetic armor. Like a sexy, deal-closing machine. Watch out, Ivanka Trump! I’m on my way to the big time! After today, I could afford one of her handbags.