Power Play

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Power Play Page 5

by Vera Roberts


  “You finally remembered my position?” He noted.

  “Yeah, but I still don’t know what you do.” She shrugged. “Anyway, Dean, this is Ian Ferguson from the world-famous Ferguson family. They’re also the owners of the Ferguson Gallery here and have a few buildings named after them.”

  Dean planted a smile across his lips. He was very familiar with the Ferguson name. They were the L.A. version of the Rothschilds and DuPonts. While he may not have known too many details of the family, he knew enough about them where they owned the Staples Center, L.A. Live, and helped pay for the new NFL stadium built in Inglewood. They also paid a ridiculous amount of money to advertise the Gallery each season, and were majority owners of the Kings. They also were minority owners of the San Diego Padres, and Los Angeles Clippers. They were also proud sponsors of every local team in L.A.

  It didn’t take Dean to figure out he needed to keep his mouth shut and pucker his lips up for the endless amount of ass-kissing he was about to do. It was no longer just a Wealthy Dude who was interested in his girl’s artwork, Ian and his family were huge (read: big and fat pockets) supporters of Dean as well. “Nice to meet you, Ian.” Dean shook the man’s hand.

  “Huge fan of your hockey play, Dean,” Ian smiled. He checked out a game the other night and was rather impressed with Dean. Now he understood why he was paid so much. “That was a killer goal you made the other night against the Sharks.”

  Okay, so maybe Wealthy Dude wasn’t so bad, after all. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

  “I was just telling your fiancée how absolutely…” Ian’s eyes started at Sydney’s feet and traveled up to her face, causing Sydney to shiver in her stance. “….delicious her art is.”

  Dean already didn’t like him.

  He knew the type: rich, pompous, and probably never worked a day in his life. A supposed alpha male who never had a woman say no and was probably used to things going his way via his pockets.

  It was clear to Ian, Sydney was up for sale.

  It was something they’d joked about. Sydney was going to meet a wealthy curator and he was going to sweep her off her feet, leaving Dean in the cold. They both knew it would never happen but it was funny to joke about.

  Now the joke had real-life implications.

  Dean tightly held Sydney’s waist and pulled her closer to him. He hardened his gaze at Ian and held it. “Her art is delicious. I taste it every night.”

  “I want to sponsor Sydney at our gallery. Giving her a full exhibit for several months if she’s interested?” Ian nursed his bourbon. “I think she will be a fabulous fit for our gallery.”

  “Isn’t that exciting, babe?” Sydney turned to Dean. “My own gallery at the Ferguson!”

  “Yeah, it is.” Dean didn’t remove his eyes from Ian’s, who matched his hardened look. “Very awesome!”

  “Yo, Syd!” Sarah called her. “Come over here! There’s some people with fat pockets that want to meet you!”

  “Excuse me, gentlemen!” She gave Dean a kiss before she left.

  Dean watched as Sydney interacted with another pair of art lovers and grinned when he saw how big her smile was. She was truly in her element and grinned from ear to ear. He was happy to see how all of her dream were coming true right before them both. It was going to a magical and whimsical year and he couldn’t wait.

  “Your fiancée has an incredible talent.”

  Dean just about forgot Ian was still in front of him and forced his head to look at the older man. Sharp blue eyes, chiseled cheekbones, dark, wavy hair, and the physique of an athlete. He had an aura that commanded people’s attention, whether they wanted to give it to him. In any other situation, Dean wouldn’t mind him at all. It was a shame Dean couldn’t see past the asshole. “She does.”

  “Do me a favor,” Ian began, “don’t ruin this for her.”

  Dean narrowed his eyes. “Excuse you?”

  “No, I won’t be,” Ian declared, “I’ve seen this a million times play out before and I know how partners like yourself operate.”

  “And how do we operate?” Dean challenged.

  “You’re supportive and loving at first. Then when there’s a bit more interest and popularity, a jealousy you never knew existed comes out of the woodworks. Then, you’ll try everything you can to stop it.”

  “You clearly don’t know who the fuck you’re talking to,” the anger in Dean’s voice was palatable and he strained to contain it, “I have been nothing but supportive to Sydney. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t even know she existed.”

  “I’m glad you said that because you just brought up my next point – eventually you’ll get so jealous and unhappy with her success, you’ll want to take credit for it.” Ian smirked. He took a step towards Dean. “She’s giving up everything for you and all you have to do is love her and be quiet. Think you can handle that, lad?” Ian then walked away.

  Five

  Jameson swore he didn’t have that many items delivered to his new home in Manhattan Beach. After unloading the final box, he decided that never again, was he going to move.

  He collapsed on his sofa, drained from unloading and moving his furniture. He still had some things to put up but it could wait another day. It could wait another three or four days. The next time, he’ll hire people to unload the boxes for him. No, there wasn’t going to be a next time, he just remembered. He was staying put.

  He briefly entertained the thought of getting up and looking at the stars from his balcony, but even that took more effort than he wanted to admit. His sofa was perfectly fine for him. On second thought, maybe he should invest in a more comfortable sofa, just in case there would be days he won’t be able to make it to his bedroom.

  His cell phone rang and he immediately sprung up to get it, slightly wincing at the pain emanating from his injured wrist. “Is she here yet?” He impatiently asked.

  “Not yet,” Jameson’s sister, Allegra, replied. “Soon, though. Anytime when she’s ready.”

  “Maybe she’s comfortable,” Jameson joked.

  “I’m glad she is because I most certainly am not,” Allegra breathed. How she missed the second trimester where she could still see her feet and complained about being so hungry. She completely understood why the second trimester was considered the honeymoon stage. “Enough about me. How’s the move?”

  “So far, so good.” Jameson managed to walk back to his sofa and fell back on it. “I meet with the trainer soon and start with the therapy.”

  “You have the heart of gold, bro,” Allegra beamed, “I still can’t believe you’re a hockey player.”

  “I promised God I would change my life to please Him after He saved me,” Jameson briefly remembered his past and that fateful night. He closed his eyes briefly to wash away the memory. “And I plan to stick to that for as long as I live.”

  “I’m just saying…don’t you ever get lonely?” Allegra prodded.

  “I have hobbies and friends to keep me busy,” Jameson replied, “and I’ll be so busy with the Church and community, I won’t have time for the Devil to entertain my thoughts.”

  “You and your rhetoric…” Allegra laughed. It seemed whenever she brought up the topic of her brother finding the right woman to settle down with, he always countered with a no-win argument.

  “I made a commitment and I plan to stick to it.” Jameson grinned. “You can never say I wasn’t faithful to a cause I believe in.”

  “That I cannot definitely say,” Allegra also remembered her brother’s past. “Anyway, bro, I gotta go and attempt some sleep. I’ll keep you posted on when the baby is going to arrive.”

  “Still no name?” Jameson asked.

  “Just when I think of one, I change my mind.” Allegra shrugged. “So we’re going to wait when we’re at the hospital and see her in person.”

  “Ah, smart decision,” Jameson agreed, “all right, sis. I’ll talk to you later. Give everyone my love and blessings.” He hung up and stared up at the ceiling, grinning
. For as long as he’d been a hockey player, there was a part of Allegra that wasn’t completely convinced Jameson gave up everything to follow God.

  Jameson couldn’t even be annoyed at his sister. If someone were to ask him years ago if he saw himself as celibate, he probably would’ve laughed at them after he finished his many shots of vodka, took whatever drug was in front of him, and offered his home for a couple of women to entertain him for the night.

  Then one night, Jameson’s mind-altering evenings turned into one unforgettable life-changing event.

  He instinctively caressed the thick scar on his chest as he thought about that night. Much of the night was still a blur but something was clear – he had to change before he was going to be next.

  Jameson never looked back and regretted the decision to become celibate. Looking back on his old life, he probably should’ve done it sooner.

  “You need to rest up,” Sarah walked into the room, where she prompted lifted Jameson’s legs and set them on her lap. “You have physical therapy in the morning and I leave for my flight shortly after.”

  “Do you have to go back?” Jameson whined, sounding like a little boy who had to give up his toy.

  “Yes, because I have a life and career there.” Sarah thought about what was waiting for her back in San Francisco. Good job? Check. Her cat, Torii? Check. An insanely expensive and empty apartment to go home to? Check. Her vibrator that boasted of six speeds and three twirling functions? Ooh, definitely a check.

  Even Sarah had to admit feeling a warm-blooded Jameson next to her was a definite bonus and something her vibrator – she lovingly nicknamed Inspector Gadget – couldn’t provide. “Though, it’s not much of a life or a career but it’s home.”

  Jameson kissed Sarah’s hand. “You’re my home.”

  “Kid,” she referred to his age, though he was only a few years younger than her, “you need someone who’s more your speed and into the things you’re into.”

  “Hmm…” Jameson rested his chin on a thumb. “…this is interesting.”

  “Oh?” Sarah humored him. “What is it?”

  “The more I fight for you, the more you push me away.” Jameson looked into her eyes. “If you want me to stop wasting your time, Sarah, I will. But let’s not act like we’re two angsty teenagers in a YA novel when we’re adulting and shit.”

  “J, if you think I’m going to pull a Sydney and pack up and move just because you have a nice, bald head I want to lick and a scruffy beard I wouldn’t mind feeling between my thighs, you have a…” Sarah paused. Over the past few weeks, she and Jameson had yet to consummated their relationship. It wasn’t something she’d minded before but she began to realize maybe there was a bit more to him he wasn’t forthcoming. “…if there’s someone else, I’ll leave you alone.”

  “There’s no one else,” he reassured.

  “So, you want me to move down here, possibly move in with you because…?”

  “I didn’t say I want you to move in. I think it’s too soon for that,” Jameson agreed, “but I wouldn’t mind you being here full-time.”

  “There’s a big-ass but between us and it’s not mine,” Sarah mentioned.

  Jameson blew out a breath. “The reason I’m not sleeping with you is because I’m celibate,” he admitted, “and I have been for a while now.”

  Just when Sarah had half a mind to toss Inspector Gadget, Jameson’s admission told her to hold onto it and get a year’s worth of batteries. It didn’t change things in her relationship with Jameson, it changed everything. “Oh.”

  ****

  She needs more determination. A bit more color. She needs…freedom.

  Sydney concentrated on the newest art in front of her as she created a fresh piece. Last night’s show was a major success and was unprecedented for her – she sold every single art piece last night, with a few on backorder.

  It was a monstrous success for her, not just as a relatively unknown artist but also for someone who’s never had an art show before. It was one thing to have a couple of people buy a piece or two but to be completely sold out? It was incredible.

  Of course, the success also created a little (read: a lot) anxiety for her. The pressure was on for her to create better art and keep reinventing herself. It wasn’t a problem before but Sydney wondered if it would pose an issue now?

  It was time to call Sarah.

  ****

  “Okay, so you have a meeting with Ever After later this afternoon. In a few days, you also have a meeting with the owner of Madre’s, the flower shop. This is an important meeting because he’s flying in just to meet with you so I need you to not cancel on him.” Sarah said over the phone with Sydney. She flew back to San Francisco but continued her role as Sydney’s pseudo-manager. “I know your mother is flying in and should be arriving in a week. You think you’ll be okay?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Sydney replied. She continued to work on a piece that celebrated Bree Newsome’s brave act of heroism as she pulled down the confederate flag. She began to outline Bree’s figure after she drew the flag pole. “Anything else?”

  “Yeah, can you tell me why you’re sucking a lemon?” Sarah asked. “You’re not your usual hyperactive self.”

  “Just in deep thought,” Sydney sat back and took a break from the picture, “just a lot going on.”

  “Well, I should say you should be pleased! You sold just about every single painting at your first show! Many artists don’t even sell one and you sold each and every one of them! Sydney, you made so much money you don’t have to paint for the next year if you didn’t want to!” Sarah clamored.

  “It’s not that,” Sydney replied, her breathy voice spoke into the phone. “It’s Dean.”

  “He’s still mad at Ian?”

  Sydney remembered the fight the pair had when they’d arrived home from the gallery. There was a simmering tension between them on the way home but it boiled over once they were alone.

  “Did I do something?” She asked. “You’ve been weird ever since the show ended.”

  “No, you didn’t do anything,” he replied. Anger coated his heart once again as he thought the new curator who was interested in his girl’s art. Oh, Ian was interested in something, all right.

  He was interested in how fast he could make Sydney spread eagle. “He wants to fuck you, Syd.”

  “What?” She turned to him. Dean’s green eyes narrowed towards her. She’d never seen him so angry before. “What are you talking about?”

  “He wants to fuck you and he’s waiting for the opportunity when it happens,” Dean repeated. “I wouldn’t make a comment like that if I didn’t think so.”

  “You’re being silly!” She shook her head. “Ian is just an investor. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  “Oh, he’s not just an investor and he wants something more and won’t settle for less,” Dean stated. “I don’t like him and I don’t trust him.”

  “You’re being silly, Dean.”

  “I’m being silly,” he repeated.

  “Yes, you are.” Sydney defended Ian, though she wasn’t quite sure why. He was nothing to her but she didn’t like Dean’s apparent jealousy. “Ian is only interested in my art.”

  “No grown man calls art delicious unless he was referring to something else, Syd.” Dean gritted his teeth. “He wants to fuck you and he’s going to try whatever he can to make sure it happens.”

  “You’re being ridiculous, Dean! I’ll admit Ian is a little touchy-feely but he doesn’t want me, okay? He wants my art. Big difference! The Ferguson Gallery is one of the most prestigious galleries in the world! I’ll be a fool if I pass this up just because my fiancée has jealousy issues.”

  “Jealousy issues?” He shot back. “That’s what you think this is? I’m jealous?”

  “Well, yes.” Sydney stood her ground. “Why else would you mention this?”

  “Fine, Syd,” Dean gave up, “you win. I’m just the jealous fiancée who wants to keep you home, barefoot, an
d pregnant.” He took off his blazer and threw it on the sofa. He walked upstairs and went into a separate bedroom where he quietly closed the door behind him.

  “Oh yay,” Sydney folded her arms as she stared at the closed door, “separate sleeping arrangements. Just what I always wanted.”

  When she woke up the next morning, Dean slept beside her with an arm across her waist. She didn’t know when he’d slipped into the room during the night but she was glad he was there. It was their first major fight since she’d moved down and while everything was okay, she didn’t want a repeat of the previous night. She snuggled up against him as she felt his erection press into her cheeks. She turned around and pushed him back to the bed as she mounted him.

  “Here,” she reached over and grabbed breath mints for them both. “now, we can continue.”

  “Hold onto the board,” Dean instructed and Sydney grabbed the headboard. He lifted her up so her sex was on his lips. He pulled her panties aside and pushed his tongue in, giving her exquisite pleasure. He gently lapped at her, like a cow drinking milk as he held onto her thighs.

  Sydney felt a strong orgasm approach as she held on for dear life. He eyes rolled in the back of her head, and the flames of desire licked her body. She softly rode his tongue to a body-shuddering orgasm.

  Dean slid her down his chest until she was positioned on top of him. She adjusted her position until he thrust inside her. Hard, deep, and completely filling.

  “Easy,” he guided her, swaying her hips back and forth.

  “No,” she leaned over and kissed him, “I want it to hurt.”

  “Fuck!” Dean threw his head back into the pillow. He drove his hips up into her, causing a small yelp as he wrapped his arms around her back.

  It was a fast and furious finish to the end. Dampened skin slapped together. Pulses raced. Muffled screams and aching moans until they hurried to a frenzied finish as they convulsed against each other. Sydney rolled over to her side as Dean snuggled against her.

  He kissed the nape of Sydney’s neck and wrapped his legs around hers. “I’m sorry, baby girl.”

  “I’m sorry, too, babe.” She nodded.

 

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