by Meghan March
“Thank fuck,” he growled as our mouths collided.
I wrapped my fingers around the back of his neck and took control of the kiss, pushing my tongue between his lips. I knew all too well that this was crazy, but the urgency I felt was impossible to ignore. Something about this man made me forget all my better judgment because I just needed him.
“I would’ve come for you,” he said against my mouth.
In my head, I thought, oh, you’re going to come for me, all right, but I was too caught up in tasting him to pull away and actually say it.
My fingers moved from his neck to the material of his T-shirt, and I bunched it in my fingers, pulling it up his back. I wanted to see him again. Wanted to feel him again.
He carried me back to the bedroom and lowered me to the bed. I held on to the fabric, tugging the shirt over his head as he rose.
His chest, shoulders, and arms looked like he should be on the cover of a magazine. Those celebrity guys I used to drool over on TV? They didn’t even look like this. And don’t get me started on his abs. I didn’t know that was a real thing. Like a freaking washboard I could use for laundry. It took me longer than I planned to drag my attention back to his face, because my gaze snagged on the bulge in his jeans.
His hazel eyes burned bright with desire. “You’re killing me, Blue. Fucking killing me.”
“I want you.” It was the truth, plain and simple.
“Not half as bad as I want you.”
“I don’t know about that,” I said, my gaze dipping back to his cock. Last time we were here, Lincoln went down on me—a first I’d never forget—and tonight, I wanted to return the favor. Maybe I was hoping then he’d feel as out of control as I did. Whatever the reason, the idea turned into a compulsion.
I reached for the button of his jeans, and his hazel eyes locked on my hands.
“You don’t have to—”
“Shut up. Unless you want me to lose my nerve.”
His hands covered mine. “Whitney—”
I glanced up as his tone softened. “Blue. You call me Blue.”
His lips pressed together and he gave me a nod, and I released his zipper before sliding my hand into his jeans. I closed my fingers around his cock, and he sucked in a hissing breath.
“Jesus fucking Christ. How do your hands feel so damn good?”
“I don’t know, but I guarantee my mouth is going to feel even better.”
I levered up further on the bed and guided him toward me so he was standing between my knees. Then I leaned over and swiped at the head of his cock with my tongue.
Another sharp indrawn breath told me he was a fan. I grew bolder and sucked the head into my mouth.
His fingers tangled in my hair. “Goddammit, woman. You’re going to kill me.”
I pulled back and looked up between my lashes, feeling a heady rush of power. “Try not to die before you carry through on your promise.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but I closed my lips over the head again and sucked. I’d never felt such an intense need to bring a man to his knees, but with this man, everything was different.
Maybe it was because I was a Gable and he was a Riscoff. That my very presence here was completely in the realm of the forbidden. Whatever it was that was driving me, skills I never knew I possessed come to the forefront, and I worked him over so well that I was confident he’d never forget me.
Before I could finish him off, he grasped the sides of my head gently and pulled free of my mouth. I glanced up again, and his chest was heaving even harder than when he met me at the door.
“Why did—”
“I’m not coming in your mouth. Not when I know how sweet your pussy is.”
Good Lord. I didn’t know if was the intensity of his stare or his dirty words, but another rush of heat surged between my legs.
“Then what are you waiting for?” I fell back on my elbows on the bed.
Lincoln’s teeth dragged over his lower lip, and I could tell he wanted to eat me alive.
“Fuck, you do something to me, Blue. I gotta have you. Now.” He reached forward and dragged my shorts down my legs before tossing them to the floor. “This is gonna get a little rough. Speak now or . . .”
I knew what he meant. I knew what he felt. I met his gaze, matching his intensity with every heartbeat.”
“Don’t hold back.”
He kicked out of his jeans and grabbed them to retrieve a condom from the pocket. As soon as he rolled it on, he pressed both palms to the bed, bracketing my hips.
“Sorry about your panties.”
I opened my mouth to ask what he meant, but he slid a finger under the lace and tugged before I could form words. The elastic snapped.
Holy hell, that was hot.
When Lincoln moved between my thighs, I’d never been more turned on in my life. I thought I was imagining how incredible we were together that night, but I didn’t.
It wasn’t the tequila or the rebound. It was him.
“Jesus Christ, you feel even better than I remember. How is that even possible?”
I didn’t say it out loud, but I knew it was a simple fact that when you mixed Lincoln Riscoff and me together, we exploded like TNT.
Even though I knew it would blow up in our faces, I couldn’t stop.
I let my head fall back and stopped worrying about the consequences, losing myself to his deliciously rough rhythm. My fingers clawed at the quilt as he pounded into me and took me all the way to the edge.
When I came, it was with the name of the enemy on my lips.
11
Lincoln
Present day
“Heard your old whore is back in town. Maybe she wants to take a younger Riscoff for a ride this time,” Harrison says as he walks in late for our meeting.
I look up from the papers on the desk in front of me, the urge to kill my brother roaring to life with just a shred less ferocity as the urge to fire him.
If it weren’t for Commodore’s restriction on me removing my brother from employment without cause, his ass would be out of this company in a heartbeat. There is no love lost between me and my brother. Not after he fucked the woman I almost married just to prove he could. He did save me from an expensive divorce, though, so maybe I should thank him for that.
But I won’t.
I stay seated and rein in my temper. I know what he wants—to bait me into slamming my fist into his face so he can go crying to Commodore and show him I’m unfit to inherit the Riscoff family holdings. There’s no way in hell I’ll give him the satisfaction. Instead, I direct my gaze to the clock on my desk.
“You’re late. Your report is late.”
His lips flatten into a frustrated line as he tosses a bound stack of paper onto my desk. “It’s not late enough to matter.”
If I were born the second son, and therefore wouldn’t inherit anything because of an antiquated family tradition, I’d probably hate my older brother too. However, after a lifetime of dealing with his bullshit, there’s no way in hell I would voluntarily step aside to let him run this company.
He drops into one of the chairs in front of my desk. “So, big brother, have you seen her yet? Or has she been rode hard and put up wet for too many years to catch your eye again?”
My fists clench again, and there’s nothing more I’d like to do than grab him by the throat and hang him out the window until he screams like a bitch. Instead, I use what feels like superhuman control to grab the report and flip open to the executive summary on three acquisitions we’re considering.
Thankfully, he keeps his mouth shut while I review it.
My gaze sharpens on his conclusion that we should enter the auction process for Tordon Industries. It has the best numbers of the three and would give us the best platform to leverage our strengths into the services industry. Diversification is vital at this point in our life cycle. We have to evolve and continue to grow beyond the current holdings if we want to remain relevant in today’s economy. But just b
ecause Harrison isn’t fucking up the big picture doesn’t mean he’s not burying something else in this report that could torpedo the acquisition. Which means I’ll have to scour every page with a fine-tooth comb to make sure there’s not something I’m missing.
Having a vice president with ulterior motives is fucking exhausting, because it means I’m doing both his job and mine to make sure he can’t intentionally or unintentionally fuck the company over. He’s the only person who would dare defy me in my role as CEO, but having my hands tied by Commodore as chairman of the board forces me to be extra vigilant. There’s no time to turn my back on him for a second.
“So, have you seen her?” Of course Harrison won’t fucking let it go.
“Can we get back to business?”
My brother kicks back in the chair, balancing it on the rear two legs.
One tip. That’s all it would take to send him over.
I resist. Barely.
“She is business, as far as I’m concerned. You lost your fucking mind over her years ago, and I need to know, as vice president of this company, if I need to worry about you pulling a repeat performance.”
I level a stare on my brother that would have any other man scuttling out of my presence, mumbling apologies as he went. Harrison’s lip just curls.
“I’m not having this conversation with you.”
He ignores my warning tone and keeps pushing. “I wonder how Mother will handle Whitney Gable coming back?”
My jaw clenches and I grit my teeth together as I count to ten. “Clearly, you don’t have enough fucking work if you’ve got all this time to spend on gossip.” I reach into the drawer of my desk and pull out a thick file. “We have a litigation matter I’d like you to assist legal with. It’s a property dispute that we’ve been dealing with for ten years and haven’t been able to resolve. I’m sure you can handle it.”
Harrison’s eyes narrow. “I don’t want to deal with that shit.”
“Good thing it’s my decision and not yours.” I let go of my copy of the old file and it lands between us with a thump. “You’re excused. If I find any errors in your report, I’ll let you know.”
My brother picks up the file.
“You think you’re so high-and-mighty, big brother? You know what they say—the bigger they are . . .” He smirks and laughs. “I’m going to find some popcorn and get ready for the explosion that comes when Mother finds out Whitney Gable didn’t stay gone. I hope your whore showing back up doesn’t put her heart over the edge.”
12
Whitney
Aunt Jackie’s voice booms through the backyard.
“Lord Almighty! Someone tell me I’m hallucinating, because I can’t believe what I’m seeing with my own eyes. My Whitney is home! Girl, get over here and give me a hug. It’s been too damn long since I’ve seen your beautiful face.”
Tears prick behind my eyes at the sight of her with outstretched arms. Unlike Karma, Aunt Jackie is beyond happy to see me.
I step toward her, letting the shed’s screen slap shut behind me. As soon as she envelops me in a hug, a wave of belonging washes over me. She rocks me from side to side.
“Sweet girl, we missed you. It’s been too damn long since you set foot in this town. Coming down to see you in LA wasn’t the same. You weren’t yourself there.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I should’ve—”
“Shhh. I shouldn’t be giving you hell for getting out of here and living. I sure can’t fault you for that. I’m just happy you’ve finally found your way home again. Welcome back.”
Now I wish I’d come home sooner, and maybe for reasons other than the fact that I have no place else to go.
“I thought you had to work until six? Are you going to get in trouble for leaving early?” Cricket asks as Jackie releases me, and I dash away a stray tear.
Jackie shakes her head. “Of course not. I’m the boss. Unless my job isn’t being done satisfactorily, no one will fuss.”
My eyes widen. “The boss?”
“Head of housekeeping at The Gables.”
I blink a few times. “I can’t believe they’d let a Gable work there, let alone be in charge.”
Jackie smiles proudly. “Ms. Riscoff doesn’t share the same prejudices as the rest of her family, and since she’s CEO of the resort, working there is pretty damn fine.”
I didn’t think my eyes could get any wider, but I would have been wrong. “Little McKinley Riscoff is CEO of The Gables?”
I can’t picture Lincoln’s younger and painfully shy sister being in charge of anything, let alone an entire resort. His douchebag younger brother, Harrison? Sure. But McKinley seemed determined to blend into the background wherever she went.
“She’s a fair boss and runs a tight ship. You won’t hear me say a word against her.” Jackie pauses. “She’s not like the rest of them. She’s good people.”
I’m going to have to take Jackie’s word for it because I don’t plan on finding out myself.
“So, tell me everything. How are you? You okay? The tabloids have been vicious, but you know we don’t believe a goddamned thing they say.”
I drop my gaze to the ground. It’s harder to lie to Jackie when I’m looking her in the eye. “I’m okay. I’m going to be okay.”
My aunt’s rough finger slides under my chin, and she tilts my head up. She surveys my face, touching my cheekbone lightly with her other thumb. “Looks like you didn’t duck quick enough. What the hell happened?”
Her question tugs a hint of a smile from my lips. “Angry fan. There have been a lot of those lately. I’m just hoping they don’t follow me here.”
She squares her shoulders. “Don’t you worry about that. We shoot first and ask questions later. If I don’t recognize someone, they’re trespassing, and I don’t miss.”
That wave of warmth envelops me again. “Thank you. I really didn’t want to bring my mess to your doorstep, but . . .”
Jackie hugs me again before pulling back to glance between Cricket and me. “Thank you for coming back. Cricket won’t tell you, but this wedding business is running her ragged. I’m worried Mrs. Havalin is going to steamroll my girl.”
“Mom—” Cricket protests.
“It’s the truth, and you know it.” Jackie’s tone invites no argument. “You need backup because you won’t say a damn thing you think around that woman, and Whitney will help you find your backbone.”
Guilt for not coming home sooner overwhelms me. “I’m so sorry. I wish I’d known sooner. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
Cricket glares at her mom. “I’m not a doormat. I’ll speak up when it matters. Some things are just easier if I don’t rock the boat.” She cuts her gaze to me. “Besides, Whitney was fighting her own battles.”
I can almost feel them both staring at my black eye when Jackie steps between us and squeezes both Cricket and me against her. “My sweet girls. I just want the best for both of you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Now we’re all here, and Gables are stronger together.”
Gables are stronger together. I’m not sure I’ve ever thought of myself as strong, but if that’s what Cricket needs me to be, I’ll do it. Which includes steering clear of Lincoln Riscoff.
Resolve fills me. I finally feel like I have a purpose that goes beyond hiding from the press and fading into obscurity, and that purpose helps me straighten my shoulders.
I give Aunt Jackie a one-armed hug and smile at Cricket. “Your mom’s right. We’ll keep Mrs. Havalin in check. I’ve dealt with plenty of divas who were a hundred times worse. She won’t even know she’s being managed.”
“That’s my girl.” Jackie presses a kiss to my forehead, and Cricket giggles. As my aunt releases us, she glances at the shed. “You taking over my she-cave?”
“I should’ve asked first,” I reply with a grimace.
“You’re home now. What’s ours is yours. Besides, you’ll probably get more sleep out here than if you were in the house. Karma’s girls are . . . wild.
Not that I can say anything.” She shakes her head. “I swear, some days it’s everything I can do not to toss her out on her ass, but I’d probably never see my grandbabies again, so I don’t.”
The lines of strain that bracket Jackie’s mouth tell me that Karma has put her mom in a difficult position. It’s probably too much to think that I can help make that situation better, but I resolve to at least try to talk to my cousin about it if I get the opportunity. And hope to escape without her biting my head off.
“She wasn’t exactly thrilled to see me either.”
Aunt Jackie’s crow’s-feet deepen, and I hate the defeated expression on her face. “She thinks the world owes her something. I don’t know where she got that from, because we all know you don’t wish for it—you work for it.”
“That doesn’t give her an excuse to just up and disappear on a moment’s notice, leaving us scrambling to figure out how to take care of the kids and still make it to our own jobs,” Cricket says, her tone bitter.
“Where does she go?”
My aunt shrugs. “No idea. She’s about as good at keeping secrets as your mama was.” As soon as Jackie says it, her face pales. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry, Whit. You know I didn’t mean—”
My stomach twists into a knot because we all know how that ended. “It’s okay. Let’s just hope Karma’s story has a happier ending.”
Cricket looks at the ground, and Jackie’s gaze darts away from mine.
Awkward silence hangs between us until I clear my throat. “So . . . anyone hiring around here? I could definitely use a job. I’m even willing to wash windows, if that’s what’s available.”
Jackie reaches out to grab my hand and holds it between us. “You haven’t scrubbed anything since you left town. Did you really think you would come back home and start cleaning toilets?”