by Ava Harrison
And for the first time since I’ve been in this office, hell, for the first time in a long time, I feel genuine hope. I see us at the crossroad of something important and know we’re headed in the right direction.
I proceed to tell him all about my plans and he vows to help me. I leave his office with a plan in motion. Together we’ll find a location. He’ll help with the funds. He’ll be there for me. He’ll be there for everything.
When I arrive at Pierce’s doorstep, I fall into his arms, emotionally spent but also relieved from my talk with my dad. He holds me for a minute before looking into my eyes.
“Not that I’m complaining, but what brought that about?”
“Good day.”
His hand caresses the swell of my breast, trailing down to the hollow of my belly. “Care to elaborate?”
“In a minute. First, tell me about yours.”
“I spoke to Carson today.”
“You did? About what? Is everything okay?”
Pierce places a hand on my arm and rubs up and down in a comforting manner.
“Everything is better than okay. I hope you don’t mind, but I know you told him about your plans, and your wanting to raise money for the kids and he was so excited, that he wanted to plan something too. He wants in. He wants to offer you all his help. I suggested a fundraiser. Something with the kids and he loved the idea.”
Without giving him a chance to finish, I lift up on my tiptoes and kiss him. Next thing I know he’s pushing me back against the wall. His lips press deeper into mine and his hand runs up the side of my torso, stopping right below my breast. When he swipes a finger over my nipple, my body becomes electrified with need, eliciting a mewl from me. At the sound, his kiss becomes hungrier. Then he pulls away and his mouth trails soft kisses on my flesh. With each press of his lips to my skin, I lose myself to him until I’m unable to control myself any longer. I lower my hand to his pants and press it against him. He’s rock-hard beneath the fabric.
His mouth is back on mine, our tongues colliding at a frantic rate. We’re desperate for each other. He pulls us to the floor, placing his body behind me, neither of us caring that the cold tile bites at our skin. The chill does nothing to alleviate the heat burning inside me—inside us. His hand tugs my pants down to my knees, and then he pushes gently on my back, forcing me to lean on my elbows on all fours as he spreads my legs.
The sound of the ripping of the condom wrapper has me desperate, panting, and squirming for him to touch me, but instead, it feels like an eternity passes as I wait. Then it happens.
He thrusts.
In . . .
Then out.
In . . .
Then out.
The sensation is too much as he slams inside me.
The feeling that’s building is unreal.
Unearthly. A possession.
Our bodies come together in sweet perfection.
A primal intensity grows between us until we’re both on the brink of an eruption.
Building.
Building.
When I feel his body shudder within me, I fall over the edge. We lie on the floor, sated. His hand tickles me.
“No way, Lindsey.” He tickles in earnest. “No way are you getting away with telling me nothing. If I have to, I’ll tickle it out of you.”
And as I fall into a fit of giggles, I know he’s telling the truth, so I turn onto my back and swat his hands away. “Okay. Okay. I’ll tell you. But I need to eat first.”
“Good girl. What to feed you . . .?” He raises his brow suggestively.
“Food, Pierce. Food. Like the kind you find in the fridge. Or better yet, pantry. What do you have?”
“Not a whole lot of anything, actually.”
I stand, pull my pants back up, and make my way into his kitchen. Opening the cupboard doors, I rummage around. It’s slim pickings, but that’s okay. I’m used to empty cabinets in my apartment.
“Sorry about that. Grocery day comes tomorrow.” He laughs.
“Well, we have two choices. We can order in, or we can eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”
“My call is on sandwiches if you make them naked.”
I roll my eyes at him but start to make one anyway even though I’m not naked. Five minutes later, I’ve made two sandwiches and wave them in the air at him as I wink suggestively. I take a bite and he gives me his signature smirk. It’s as if this snack has become foreplay. The thought makes me laugh. Only with Pierce.
“Perfection. Now tell me about today,” he says as he lifts the sandwich to his mouth.
“I saw my dad today,” I deadpan.
His hand stops moving and he turns toward me. His eyes find mine, his gaze steady, waiting for me to go on. When I don’t, he places his meal back on his plate and prompts me. “And?”
“It was actually good.”
“Must be nice,” he mutters under his breath.
“Surprisingly, it was. You should try it sometime.”
“Yeah, I’ll take a pass on that.”
I take his hands in mine. “No, really, you should. I can’t tell you how much of a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. For so many years, I’ve held onto so much animosity. Animosity that was never needed. If I had just been upfront about how I felt years ago, I would’ve saved myself so much time and heartbreak. I was too scared, Pierce. Scared of rejection. Scared of not being enough. But for what? Don’t be like me. Don’t waste another day.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
I push back, separating us. “Easy for me to say? You have no idea about my life, Pierce. You think I don’t know what it’s like to be last? To feel unwanted? I spent my whole life feeling like this. I understand how you feel. All I’m saying is you don’t need to waste another day feeling this way. You can change this. You can change.”
“I can’t.”
“You can. You’re just too scared, and I understand that, but there’s nothing to be scared of. Just try.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Will you . . . will you at least think about it? For me?”
“Yes.” He gets up and then proceeds to lift me into his arms.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To bed, obviously.”
“Didn’t we just do that?”
“I mean to bed, bed. You’re sleeping over.”
“I am?”
“Yeah.”
“Do I have a choice in the matter? Maybe I have someplace I need to be tonight. Or better yet, maybe I have someplace I need to be tomorrow.” I smirk at him. “Ever think about that?” I stick out my tongue.
“Nope. What I say goes and you’re staying. End of story.”
I roll my eyes at him and he pulls me closer, nuzzling his mouth to my ear.
“I want you next to me when I wake up.”
Those words make me shut up and melt in his embrace.
For the first time in a long time, I sleep. I don’t just sleep through the night, I sleep peacefully. It’s crazy how you take the small things for granted. How energized you feel after not spending the night worrying. How invigorated you feel when you finally feel comfort. I know why. It’s Lindsey. She’s why I feel this way. Lindsey does this for me.
I turn my head and look at where she’s lying, her arm draped across my chest, her hair fanned across the white pillow. The contrast between her dark locks and the pristine pillow is striking. A familiar urge to paint her takes root inside me, and I can’t help but smile at the thought. It’s been a while since I’ve wanted to paint something as simple as beauty, but that’s what she is inside and out. She is beautiful. The best part, the part that makes her genuine, is that she has no idea how fucking gorgeous she is. She’s like a ray of sunshine that has come and brightened my life. Like that first glimpse of spring after a long winter.
I could do this every day.
Holy shit.
I could do this every day. This could be my life. I could wake up in the middle
of the night and Lindsey would be in my bed. Sounds pretty fucking perfect to me.
With a reach of my hand, I run it down the curve of her hip. Even in her sleep, she inches toward me, seeking my heat. A thought crosses my mind. I could take her now. I could lose myself in her. And I should.
She moans as my hand trails lower. She’s like a cat in heat. It makes me chuckle. “What are you doing?” she says, her voice still laced with sleep.
“Trying to have my way with you,” I respond nonchalantly.
“Try all you like, but first can I eat?”
As if on cue, I hear her stomach rumble.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I chide, all while making my path lower.
“Wait. Seriously, what time is it?” she asks. I pull my gaze away from her and look at the clock.
“Oh, shit. It’s after nine. Looks like breakfast will have to wait.”
She stretches her arms above her head and shakes off any remaining sleep. “How did I not wake up?”
I shrug. “Guess I relaxed you.”
“More like exhausted me.”
“Yeah, probably more that.” Standing, I make my way over to the closet and grab her one of my robes. When I return to the bed, I hand it to her. She smiles in appreciation.
“You were pretty insatiable,” she says as she puts it on and stands in front of me.
“Speaking of insatiable . . .” I pull her until our lips are hovering over one another. But instead of kissing her, I lower my head and place my lips on the soft skin on her neck and trail my tongue down her flesh. She swats at me.
“Will you stop that? We’re going to be late.”
“Fine,” I say begrudgingly. “Let’s get dressed.” I walk back to the closet and grab some clothes, but when I return, her back is to me and she’s no longer in my robe. My gaze sweeps over her perfect ass.
Fuck.
My dick gets hard and a groan escapes. Turning her head over her shoulder, she rolls her eyes.
“None of that.” She walks off toward the bathroom and I can’t help but watch. “Go shower.”
“Shouldn’t we shower together, conserve water?” Now, that’s a good idea.
“No.” Her tone is short and I wonder why, but instead of asking, I just walk into the bathroom and turn the water on. Lindsey’s been weird about being naked with me, not sure why as her body is banging, but to each their own. I guess.
Thirty minutes later, we’re finally dressed and we head out the door, stopping at Starbucks to grab a coffee to go for her. Fifteen minutes later, we walk into Polaris.
Yeah, I could get used to this.
I turn to Lindsey. “You need to speak to Carson. I told him a little about it already when we spoke, but I think you should speak to him today about it too.”
“Should I?”
“Of course you should. This is your baby. If you feel passionately enough about it to speak to your father, of course, you need to talk to Carson and make sure it happens.”
She thinks for a minute before nodding. “Yeah, I’ll go find him now.”
I take her hand and squeeze it once. “I’m proud of you, Lindsey. Her lips spread into a smile. I’m proud of her. I wish I could be more like her.
Maybe one day I can.
“Hey, guys.” Carson smiles as we walk into his office. “I can’t tell you how excited I am for this fundraiser. What a fabulous idea, Lindsey.”
“Oh, I can’t take credit for it. This idea was Pierce’s. And yours, I hear.”
It certainly wasn’t mine. When he pitched me the fun run idea, I didn’t tell Pierce how much it hurt to know I wouldn’t be able to participate. It stung deep to the bone, though, every scar across my leg feeling singed with pain. I smile anyway, because no matter my objections to the idea, it was a fabulous one.
“You guys did good.” I wink.
“All him.” Carson points over at him and gives me a look. I know he’s silently telling me, I told you so. I bob my head and tell him back without words, you were right.
“It might’ve been my idea, but this is all you,” Pierce says, as he takes my hand and puts it on his lap. Carson’s eyes widen as he stares at us.
“So, is this a new thing?” he asks while looking at our entwined hands.
“New, but a long time coming,” Pierce replies, and at that Carson lets out a full and boisterous laugh. I can’t help but join in.
“Okay, let’s talk about the fundraiser. Any ideas?” Carson says.
“I’m going to defer to you since this was your idea,” I answer, looking at Pierce.
“Well, I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and I think the best idea would be to have the kids run, as well as the adults. Adults will have to buy in, and I’m thinking the kids will need to be sponsored.”
Carson nods at Pierce’s suggestion.
“I have a long list of potential donors.”
“Me too,” Carson says. “I’ve collected a ton of names. Plus, I have all our past donors, including the ones who haven’t donated since we started the place. I think we should aim for the first week of November.”
“Will that give us enough time?” Pierce asks.
“Yeah, totally. During the next few weeks, we can divide and conquer. I’ll prepare the details. The kids can reach out to the potential donors with us. That way they feel involved. We can also reach out to some of my contacts in marketing and publicity.”
“That’s a great idea. And I do have some money we can—”
“No, Lindsey,” Carson cuts me off. “There’s no need for you to give anything else. I’m sure we can get the marketing done for free. Bridget Lancaster does marketing. Maybe she’ll volunteer.”
At the sound of her last name, the muscles in Pierce’s hand tighten around me, cutting off my circulation.
“It’s a great idea.” I look over at Pierce and squeeze him twice.
He furrows his brow while he lets go. He’s still grinding his teeth with unspoken words.
This makes him uncomfortable. Maybe even angry. I can read Pierce pretty well, and he’s definitely not happy. Bridget is married to his brother Grant, so he obviously doesn’t want her involved due to his strained relationship with his family. I wait for him to protest. To object. But he doesn’t. He keeps quiet, and that selfless move makes me fall for him even more.
“So, where should we start?” I finally say, needing to break the silence before it becomes obvious to Carson that there’s an issue.
“Let’s look at the list, divide it, and we’ll each start working on our part. I’ll reach out to Bridget also. Pierce will reach out to some of his contacts. Lindsey, you’ll work with the kids to get donations. Sound good?”
“Sounds great.”
“With the weather, we only have a few weeks to set this up. We’re going to have to work really hard. We can’t risk an early snow. You can never tell what’ll happen in November.”
He’s right. In New York anything is possible.
Lindsey is working on logistics for the run, so I’m just lying on my couch looking at the papers she brought over a few weeks ago when the phone rings.
The name glaring back at me startles me. Spencer.
That’s a name I wasn’t expecting. Sure he checks in, but honestly, ninety percent of the time, he sends a text.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Your presence is requested at dinner,” he offers up in his usual condescending tone. It drips off him. It’s funny because even if he’s not trying, he still exudes arrogance. I guess that’s an occupational hazard for being a big shot CEO. No matter what you say, you make it sound like everyone is inferior to you.
“Hello to you too, Spencer.” I roll his name over my tongue in the same stuck-up fashion in which he issued the invitation. I know the saying kill them with kindness, but in this case, it’s more like reap what you sow. He wants to be a stuck-up ass, so I can act like one too.
“Mom wants you there, so I expect you there,” he hisses, obviously not findi
ng my tone funny.
“Well, I’d hate to let you down.”
He doesn’t respond to my sarcastic quip, but his lack of response is answer enough . . .
I already let him down.
Three hours later I find myself pulling my Range Rover into The Lancaster compound. It looks exactly like it did the last time I was here, last year. When my father had a heart attack.
I imagine the welcome I’ll receive tonight will be just as friendly as when Spencer gave me all his thoughts on not showing up at the hospital to see Dad.
“Get your pathetic ass over here,” he hissed into my voicemail. “You’re a disgrace. Even Grant showed up. Even fucking Grant is here. You’re an embarrassment to the Lancaster name.”
I was out of the country . . .
Truth, I don’t remember where the fuck I was. I was in the middle of a bender somewhere. Out of the country. Not checking my phone. By the time I turned it on, I had over ten messages ranging from concern to full-on death threats from Spencer and more surprisingly Grant, who at the time was hated almost as much as me. Eventually, I showed up.
That was the beginning of the end for big brother and me.
I let myself in, using the key I have always had but seldom use. Walking through my childhood home, I’m still taken aback by the sheer immensity of the space. Vaulted ceilings and priceless art lead me to where I hear voices. My mind becomes lost in the vastness, memories hitting me like a tsunami. A vision of myself as a young child, I’d fallen asleep in the room under the window where a large armoire used to be back then. I was playing hide and seek with Spencer and Grant at the time, but they must have given up looking. When my parents finally found me, they were so relieved and wouldn’t stop hugging me. I remember the feeling of being loved and secure and comforted. How different things became since then.
Now there is no armoire, and no hugs to be had.
“He lives . . .” Spencer says as I walk in through the large archway leading into the living room. Olivia swats at him and he shrugs as if he has no idea why she’s giving him a hard time.
“Pierce, darling you’re here.” My mom’s voice sounds far away and lost in thought. She looks at me with an unfocused haze and unshed tears. Sad and confused. Both emotions making me feel uneasy to hear and see them. I know I haven’t been perfect but why don’t they understand? I stayed away because I had to. Because I could never live under the shadow they all cast down upon me. Being the forgotten child is incomprehensible to them. Harder than any of them could ever fathom because while they were jetting off, living their lives, I was raised by a nanny. And when I begged for attention, I got money deposited into my account.