by Kira Blakely
A man appeared beside Kennedy moments later. Dominant, strong, and tall. Kennedy watched Everett’s eyes trace the man, before turning back to other guests, demanding drinks. She sensed jealousy within him, a knowledge that other men in the room wanted to give her attention. But Kennedy didn’t have time for it.
After several moments, however, Kennedy’s eyes turned toward him and drank him in, immediately amazed with the darkness of his hair, the olive color of his skin, and the deep cut of his jaw. He had a deep five o clock shadow, which made him look rugged, animalistic. Beneath his expensive, immaculate suit, his muscles seemed to pulse, alerting Kennedy to his strength.
Kennedy realized she was staring at the stranger. She’d lost herself in the heat of the moment. She blinked many times, unaccustomed to being thrown off by someone’s looks, having lived in her panicked head for so long, due to the diner. The strange man returned the look, gazing at the curvature of her breasts, her hair, and her long legs. He swallowed sharply.
The man in the immaculate suit smacked a twenty-dollar bill onto the countertop. He gave Everett a grin. “Whiskey, on the rocks. Keep the change,” he said, smirking. He was a bit cocky, reeking of money. She lifted her own drink into the air and sipped it easily, wrapping her lips around the small straw. She tried to fight off her immediate attraction to this man, reminding herself that she deserved a nice guy.
“He’s pretty busy,” she whispered, speaking of Everett. The man seemed dangerous, powerful, as if he was holding back the true strength of himself.
“He should know better than to keep me waiting,” the man said, half-joking. Again, was this cockiness, or was it confidence? Or, perhaps, was he flirting?
Kennedy kept the conversation going, wanting to see where it led. “I see. So you assume the entire bar is just waiting for your next move?”
“I suppose that’s how I live my life, yes,” the man said, giving her a sarcastic grin. “I come here often enough. And I tip well.”
“I see,” Kennedy said. Their eyes met, and she spent the next several moments trying to push away her attraction. She swallowed sharply.
“What was your name?” she asked, her voice catching.
“It’s Bryce,” the man said, lifting his hand. She shook it, feeling electricity pass through her body upon their touch. “Bryce Cain.”
Kennedy raised a single eyebrow high, allowing the name to pass through her mind. Bryce Cain. It certainly sounded vaguely familiar, like a name from another reality, a dream. She watched as he turned toward a back table, with a candle featured in the center, and she found herself drawn toward him. She heard the clacking of her heels beneath her as she followed him, blindly, almost knowing that he expected her to follow. But she was drawn to him, like a moth to the flame.
“Hey. Kennedy.”
Kennedy whirled back toward the bar, making eye contact with Everett. He’d followed her from around the bar, clearly trying to protect her, as usual. He held onto Bryce’s drink tightly, like a beacon.
“What are you doing?” he asked her.
“I’m just flirting, like you said to do,” she whispered, shrugging.
“Not with him, Kennedy,” he said, pouring the whiskey for Bryce. “I just wouldn’t trust him, is all.”
“I can take care of myself, big brother,” she said, laughing, not unkindly.
“I know you can,” he said, rolling his eyes, looking embarrassed. “I know. I just don’t like him, is all. Seems to act like the world is waiting for his next move.”
Kennedy wrapped her hand around the drink Everett held. “It’s been so long since I’ve been out. Just let me have some fun, okay?” She said the words tentatively, knowing Everett was right.
Everett took a step back, gesturing. “I’ll be right over here if you need anything. Kennedy. Remember, you’re better than him…” He trailed off.
When Kennedy reached the table, she tapped Bryce’s whiskey drink on the table and assessed him once more, eyeing the strength and power of his shoulders, the way he tossed his head with such arrogance. Just from the smell of him, from the way he maneuvered his body, Kennedy sensed he had money. But she couldn’t gauge how much. Nor did she care, really. It was just bizarre to be faced with someone who had it.
“Thanks for bringing this over,” Bryce said, sipping his whiskey. “What was your name?”
“Kennedy,” she said, shaking his hand once more. “I’ve been sufficiently warned about you, by the way.”
“Is that right?” he said, smirking. “That bartender didn’t take to me, initially. I keep to myself in this bar.”
“He’s my best friend,” Kennedy said, her eyes flashing. “He’s a good kid. Perhaps too good for this world.”
“He didn’t seem to be cheering you up too much,” Bryce said. “He the only one you know here?”
“I drove in from the outskirts of the city,” Kennedy admitted, flipping her hair. “I come here sometimes. Everett’s a regular at my place. My diner. And we don’t make each other pay.”
“You’re a team,” Bryce said.
“We are,” Kennedy said, shrugging slightly.
They allowed silence to fall, then. The heat between them was palpable. The rushing beat of the music filled her ears, making her feel slightly anxious.
But Bryce took the wheel, then. As he was probably accustomed to doing.
Bryce raised his dark eyebrows and assessed her, seemingly toying with several different things to say. “I saw your face as you stood up there, ordering your drink. I’d never seen such an upset expression, especially not at a nightclub. I wondered why.”
“Oh?” Kennedy said, feeling self-conscious that her stressful day had raised its ugly mug at the club. She tried to raise her eyebrows, look more sure of herself.
“And, of course, I wondered if I could cheer you up. It felt like a challenge, for me.”
“Ah. So, my bad day turns into your game. I see how it is,” Kennedy said, although her words were not unkind. Just playful.
“Bad days. Don’t they always lead us to encounters like this? They’re necessary, coloring our experiences, leading us to reckless decisions that can change the course of our life.”
“I try not to be reckless,” Kennedy said tentatively, chilled by his words. “I’m a business owner. I can’t afford to be.” As she spoke, an image of the electrical units in the kitchen flashed in front of her eyes, reminding her of all the things she couldn’t afford to do or repair. Fuck. She was absolutely fucked.
“But being reckless is a beautiful thing, darling,” Bryce said, taking a small step toward her. “It’s the only reason I’ve gotten as far as I have in life. I’ve taken risks. I’ve leaped from cliffs. I’ve spoken to people I shouldn’t have. And I’ve lived my life outside of the lines.”
Kennedy felt her eyes quiver with tears, then. She couldn’t name the reason she was so panicked. Something about the heat from this stranger, turning her to mush, made her feel small.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, gesturing toward her crying eyes. “As I told you, I’m just having a rough day. And I don’t think any amount of risk taking could change that.”
For a moment, she allowed the silence to stretch between them. She eyed her fingers upon her glass, hoping she wasn’t boring him.
“I think I know what could cheer you up,” Bryce said then, finally breaking the silence. His eyes were bright, passionate.
“I think I should go,“ Kennedy began, feeling hesitant. She sensed what was coming; she knew that the tension was too great between them, now, to illicit anything but something passionate, something truthful. And with her drink throttling through her, on an empty stomach, she suddenly didn’t mind. She loved to have something else to consider, besides her dying diner.
Bryce leaned toward her, then. He placed his hand upon hers, toying with her fingers. And then he pressed his lips to hers, immediately eliminating the distance between them. In that moment, Kennedy felt she’d known him for years, rather
than mere moments. She shivered, feeling his strong, masculine hands wrap around her waist. But she accepted the kiss wholly, realizing it was a necessary distraction from the horrible reality awaiting her on the city’s outskirts.
Jesus. This is exactly what I needed, she thought, wrapped in his passionate, strong embrace.
As they kissed, she pushed her tongue upon his, sizzling with sexual desire. Her pussy was wet, almost dripping in her panties, crying out for his touch. She hadn’t had sex with anyone in almost six months, and her body ached for it, for any feeling of being loved. She hated that her body immediately gave into these emotions. She wished she could be a constant businesswoman, able to ignore her desires and to work, constantly, toward paying her bills. But her body didn’t work that way.
After several moments more, Bryce broke the kiss and peered down at her, his eyes afire with passion. “Come home with me,” he said immediately, his voice gruff. He was insistent. “I don’t normally do this. But I want you to come with me. It would cheer us both up, I think.”
“I’ve only just met you,” Kennedy whispered, feeling sudden panic. She could still feel Everett’s eyes upon her back. She wanted to remain at the club, to take several steps back. She was unaccustomed to leaping so quickly into anything. She’d planned her diner for years, prior to opening.
“You kissed me back,” he said, his eyes flashing. “I know you want this. Just come with me.”
“I only just got here,” Kennedy whispered. “I haven’t even finished my drink.“ Suddenly, the night felt as if it had sped up, as if the fast-forward button was rolling and she was meant to follow the guidelines. No matter how attracted she was to him, she wasn’t ready.
“I can’t,” she whispered again, watching as Bryce’s shoulders lifted. He looked like a wounded animal.
“There’s something different about you. I wish I could figure out your price.”
“My price?” Kennedy asked, bouncing back. What had been passionate and loving between them felt stone cold, now.
“Jesus. I’m… no,” Bryce began, taking several steps back. “I mean. Everyone has their breaking point. Their reason for going home with someone…”
“Well, mine isn’t money,” Kennedy blared, sensing he was coming to that. “Because I can’t imagine any self-respecting person would go home with anyone for money.”
Bryce’s face fell, and he looked embarrassed, like a kid at school. “Hold on a second,“ he began, his voice softer. He knew he’d fucked up. He’d soiled the air between them.
But Kennedy didn’t give a fuck about his money, and, deep in money troubles herself, she no longer wanted to be around this man, who seemed to speak so easily about money, almost linking their interaction to prostitution. She didn’t care if he was the last man on earth.
“Maybe we got off on the wrong foot,“ Bryce began slowly.
But Kennedy felt compelled to laugh maniacally. “How dare you,” she said, her voice low. “I’m not some child for you to boss around in here, just because you have money. And I’m not some beggar, looking to you for assistance. You’re out of line, sir.” She shoved the rest of her drink toward him, watching as a bit of the liquid bounced up on his muscled chest.
Bryce lifted a handkerchief from his back pocket and swiped it across his wet chest, the candlelight flickering in his troubled eyes. He’d given up on trying to reel her back into the conversation.
Kennedy turned away from him, preparing to leave the club. She’d been stupid to attempt any kind of normal interaction.
But as she turned away, she felt Bryce take a long step toward her. She shivered, feeling him so close to her. She was grateful he didn’t touch her.
“I want you,” he breathed then, his voice hot on her ear. “Normally, my life is one mundane moment after another. But with you, Kennedy…” He trailed off. “I sense that you’re special. And I’d like to get to know you.” His arrogance was folding around his ankles, falling from his shoulders. As he spoke, he slipped a piece of paper onto the table. Then he walked away, leaving her alone.
She frowned, feeling suddenly anxious, without him beside her. His words rang in her ears. She lifted the piece of paper from the table and saw it was a telephone number. She blinked several times, and then downed the rest of her drink in a flash, realizing she wanted to be unconscious as soon as possible. She was unaccustomed to such energetic flirtation, to such assholes.
She dashed from the club and toward her car, revving her engine and feeling her muscles quivering as she drove from the city, back to the outskirts of town. At the table of her tiny apartment building, she stared down at the telephone number, written in a scrawl, and sipped directly from the wine bottle, wondering at her strange night. Bryce’s words still rang through her brain. She promised herself she’d never dial the number. It was, eternally, outside of her boundaries. And yet, she kept it, entertaining the thought.
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Billionaire’s Protest Series
Nash
When a buy-out brings me face-to-face with Bonnie Calhoun, it looks like she’s been waiting for me since college. Could this be my second chance? Her nipples are hard the second she opens the door. She tries to hide her true desire, but it’s too late. Only problem is, she thinks I’m still the same old playboy. Is it possible to show her that I’ve changed?
Bonnie
I stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around my torso. It pinched my skin, sticking to my body like saran wrap, and I might as well have been an ancient mummy ensconced in a pyramid tomb. I felt dazed, my mind fraught with conflicting emotions, like I was having an out of body experience. This couldn’t be happening to me. I had definitely seen better weeks.
My cellphone rang, tripping me out of my dream-like state. I crashed back into reality with a jolt. Unknown number.
“Bonnie Calhoun,” I barked into the phone, wedging it between my ear and my right shoulder.
“It’s Nell. Do you seriously not have my new number saved?” My best friend Nell sounded like she’d just taken a bite of pizza and was in the middle of chewing it.
“It’s your new number. No, I haven’t had the time,” I said as I rolled my eyes, yanking my closet door open to look for something to wear.
“Haven’t had the time? It literally takes two seconds to do.” Nell was still chewing, and her voice was muffled as she spoke. It was putting me on edge for some inexplicable reason.
“Oh God! Will you please just stop eating while you’re on the phone, Nell?” I said, pulling out the dress closest to hand. A chiffon floral summer dress with spaghetti straps. I’d have to go bra-less for this one.
“How long has it been since you got laid? Jesus!” I could hear the smile in Nell’s voice as she spoke. She’d have her answer if she saw me now, with my exhausted eyes and skinny arms. I had always been skinny, but now I looked like I hadn’t eaten for a couple of days.
“Don’t even bring that up. I can’t even… right now,” I stood in front of my full-length mirror, staring at myself with the phone still wedged between my ear and shoulder. I was using my hands to hold the towel together.
“You sound stressed,” Nell said, sarcastically.
“It’s happening, and you won’t believe who came forward with an offer,” I explained distractedly, still staring at myself. My normally bright blue eyes looked worried, my long blond hair fell in a limp damp bunch around my shoulders. A trim was long overdue, but I didn’t have the brain space to think about that right now.
“What do you mean it’s happening? You mean you’re selling the company?” I had finally managed to pique Nell’s interest and her voice had suddenly reached a high-pitched decibel. I breathed in deeply, I didn’t want to have to say the actual words. I didn’t want to have to acknowledge that this was all real.
“Yeah. We can’t handle the losses anymore,” I said, turning away from the mirror. I couldn
’t bear to look at myself as I spoke about it. My life and blood… the sweat and tears I had put into building the company from scratch. Nobody except my mom, and maybe Nell, had believed that I could do it. That a twenty-three-year-old fresh graduate could start a tech firm and be successful. And all those fuckers were right. Now I was the one left begging with open hands for a big-shot company to come along and buy it so that I could pay off the loans and the money I owed the banks. At least this way, I wouldn’t lose everything.
“Who is it?” Nell asked, snapping me out of my self-pity.
“Who is what?” I asked, not understanding the question.
“You said I wouldn’t believe who’s made an offer. So, who is it?” she said again.
I had to breathe in, prepare myself for saying the words. “Preston and Son,” I said in a near-whisper, trying to trick my brain into thinking that I hadn’t said the words. Fool.
Nell gave a loud laugh of disbelief, the kind of laugh that would have escaped my lips, too, if I was in her position.
“Preston and Son? You mean, Nash Preston’s family? Are you kidding me?” Nell just about screamed into the phone. She wasn’t buying it. Just like I didn’t buy it when I saw the email six days ago. The very reason why I re-read it like a hundred times.
“Not kidding. Not something I would kid about, and get this, Nash Preston has finally taken over,” I said, walking over to the bed, where I had flung the dress earlier. I really needed to get dressed and out of the house if I was going to make it to the dinner my employees had organized. Well, soon to be ex-employees.
“He has? I thought he had given up his inheritance or something.” Nell had finally calmed down, but there was still a strain in her voice. She was still in disbelief.
“Well, his father is probably set to retire, and my guess is that he’s trying to get his son to take over. I don’t know, Nell, and I frankly don’t care.” I was irritable again, and I jerked the towel off my body and it fell on the floor in a heap at my ankles. “All I know is, Nash is the big boss over there now, and he wants to acquire my company. My baby!” I was pouting as I said the last two words. For the past six days, since I received the email from Nash Preston’s assistant, I had begun focusing all my negative energy on him.