Bad Situation (The Montgomery Series Book 1)

by Brynne Asher

  “Fuck, I love your ass.”

  Oh. He’s so an ass man.

  “Shaped like a heart. You’re damned perfect, Jensen.”

  “Don’t call me that—” I start but my words catch as he shifts my legs apart and doesn’t delay. Wasting no time, he fills me with two fingers and it takes my breath away and I push back onto his hand.

  “See?” Damn. He sounds proud of himself and even that turns me on. “Now, arch and give me everything.”

  He cups me, pressing his fingertips into my clit, giving me more pressure than he has since he stripped off my dress that’s still laying on my kitchen counter amidst all our dirty dishes. But just as quickly, he lets me go.

  “Eli,” I complain, arching my back, reaching for his fingers. Needing his touch.

  “Finally,” he mutters. With one hand tight on my thigh, he finally gets down to business after doing nothing but working me into a mess of knots with an intensity so massive, it could bring down figurative buildings.

  Gripping the bedding beneath me, I squeeze my eyes shut and my jaw goes slack.

  I brace.

  When it comes over me, so does Eli. With his thighs pressed into mine and his chest heavy on my back, his lips hit the skin where my neck and shoulder meet. He nips me there as I come apart, the insignificant pain pushing my orgasm further, to a land I’ve never been before. As I come down, he follows it up with his tongue, lapping my skin like a balm.

  Through all this, he never lets up on my clit and my body is showing the effects. But I can’t move since his tattooed arm has rounded my body angled up, he’s cupping my breast and twisting my nipple hard. He’s effectively holding me hostage in his erotic never-never land.

  I’ll gladly stay forever.

  Just like he made me chase my orgasm, I think I’d chase him anywhere.

  As I return to earth, his voice is low and gravely in my ear. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

  I’m spent but he hasn’t let me go, supporting my weight as I feel his rough denim scratching my hypersensitive skin as he yanks at his jeans behind me.

  “We might not be suited and started out in the worst situation ever, but I can’t get you out of my head, baby.”

  My insides tighten because I hate that he thinks that. I’ve never met anyone more suited for me.

  He rubs the tip of his cock over my sex, coating himself, and runs his tongue up the outside of my ear when he keeps on, “Especially after this morning. From the shit swirling around us, to worrying about you, to me moving inside you for the first time. I have no business being with you, but here I am, breaking every rule—both written and unwritten.”

  With that he pushes his way in with no warning, conjuring a moan from deep inside me.

  He pulls out and pushes back in and I have to brace at the same time I crave more. “Being with you makes the rest of the shit fade away. There’re days I need it to disappear like a bad dream.”

  “Yes,” I breathe, agreeing with his words and the way he’s possessing me, showing he wants me—needs me—as much as I do him.

  I lose his heat at my back as he stands, griping my hips in a vice that it’s sure to leave marks as he thrusts, over and over. His power and strength shoots into me at the same time he comes, holding me tight when he stills, planting himself balls deep.

  When his grip loosens, I push on my knees, too exhausted to hold my weight any longer. He follows, keeping our connection and when I’m on my belly, Eli covers me, still clothed.

  Him pressing me into my bed where I feel his bulk on—and in—every inch of me is something I’ve never experienced. Right now, I wish I could exercise all my corporate power, snapping my fingers to make the rest of the world disappear. Just when you think there’s no one but your father to step on your toes, the universe comes crashing down, taking you with it.

  But not when I’m with Eli.

  He presses into me one more time and I note, “It’s not really fair that you’re not naked, too.”

  He puts his lips to my temple through my messy hair. “I can make that happen. I’ll go clean the kitchen while you do your thing. Meet me on your sofa but do not get dressed.”

  I twist my neck a bit farther to look into his dark eyes that settle a little bit deeper in my soul. “I hope you clean fast.”

  “If you’re waiting for me naked, I know I can.”

  *****

  Eli

  The SAC is the Special Agent in Charge of the entire division.

  I’m not blind to who I am or how I carry myself at work. I know I skate the line, but it has always served me in the past. And, after the way things have gone since I stepped into the Lone Star State, I’m not about to stop watching my back—or Jen’s for that matter.

  As I sit in the SAC’s office, he stares me down like my middle school principal did when I got caught tossing a smoke bomb into the girls’ locker room because Sadie McCall broke up with Ricky Vacito back in the day. I can’t help but find my situation eerily similar. Only I’m not worried about my mom screaming the house down or my dad busting my ass for getting suspended. Though, the smoke bomb was worth every day of suspension. Ricky’s ex-girlfriend told the entire cheerleading squad he was a shit kisser and it doesn’t matter if it was middle school—you always have your friend’s back.

  Today, I’m only mildly concerned for my career. I’ve seen people get off doing worse and, to get fired from the federal government, you pretty much have to be a criminal and I’m sure as shit not one of those.

  “Fuckin’ OPR is breathing down my neck about two of my agents. I don’t need their attention anywhere near my damn district. First Newman and now you.” The SAC glares at me as he continues barking about shit. This has already taken up five minutes of my life.

  I sit back in my chair and prop an ankle on my knee because he’s pretty much harmless. It’s not like I’m twelve, sitting in front of my principal. That guy could make a kid shit his pants because he had a hotline to the police chief of the Chicago PD. That’s how rough my school was and the possibility of juvie was a fate worse than hell.

  But this isn’t middle school and I’ve been through a lot since then. This might be a headache for a while, but it’ll pass.

  He wipes his forehead and keeps going. “I knew you were gonna be a cowboy. Fuckin’ New York, thinking they can run the show. Just because you’ve gone your way in the past, doesn’t mean that shit flies in the rest of the country. Were you PMSing and have cramps the day in Basic Agent training when they explained the legalities of fraternizing with a federal indictee? You cannot take down kingpins like the MacLachlans and not know that shit, which means you’re doin’ it ‘cause you don’t give a rat’s ass what the rules are. And that’s fuckin’ worse. Dammit!” He flops down into his big leather chair that’s nicer than every other one in the building.

  I put my foot to the floor, sit up straight, and hope to hell he’s done. I want to tell him Jen’s innocent, but even I know that doesn’t justify what I’ve done. I’m just going to have to take my OPR case and swallow it like the castor oil my mother made me take because some nun who was older than dirt told her it cured the common cold. “I’d like to explain.”

  “There’s no excuse—” he explodes, but my direct supervisor, Larry-the-cheater, who’s also sitting in on the fun, butts in.

  “Sir,” Larry starts and throws a look my way that’s guarded with a knight’s armor. He looks back to his superior’s superior and surprises the shit out of me. “I think when all is said and done, this OPR case will go away. I spoke with the Assistant U.S. Attorney this morning. The defense has requested a special hearing.” He clears his throat and shifts as if he’s sitting on a bed of thorns. “With recent developments in the case, it looks like Montgomery could get the dismissal they’re looking for and this will all be a moot point.”

  The SAC leans forward on his forearms and narrows his eyes on Larry. “It’s not a moot point when I hear about one of my agents sitting next to a dead body
with a federal target in his damn lap. Get your group under-fucking-control. If you can’t run a tight ship, I’ll find someone who can and put you in charge of community outreach where you’ll be shaking enough hands at neighborhood festivals, you’re sure to get the flu. Now, get the hell out of my office. I’ve had enough of your damn shenanigans—I’ve got a meeting with the ATF about real crime.”

  He won’t get an argument from me. I stand and move out of his office, but as I’m headed down the hall toward the elevator, Larry is on my heels.

  “Pettit,” he seethes.

  I press the elevator button before turning to find him invading my space but I don’t invite a conversation. “I’ve got leads on a case I need to follow up on. Can’t cheat the taxpayers out of a hard day’s work.”

  He glances around to make sure he has privacy and lowers his voice. “I’ve got your back on this but you need to assure me that whatever you think you know about me stays silent.”

  I can’t help but smile. It surprises even me it’s a genuine one, because, fuck me, the man’s funny. He’s also caught between a rock and a hard place and, opposed to my shitty situation, he’s practically impotent. “Larry, I don’t know what to say. That’s almost sweet of you, having my back and all.”

  His face hardens. “Bree said you have pictures. I want those files.”

  Thinking of the pictures he’s talking about, the same ones I’ve made copies of and stored on multiple flash drives, I grimace. “I don’t think you do. They’re not pretty.”

  “Dammit, Pettit. I can’t do anything for Bree at this point. She’s buried herself but I can help you. I just need to know those pictures will disappear.”

  The elevator doors part at my back, offering me a reprieve from the asshole in front of me. I put a hand to the door to hold it and say, “The thing is, I don’t need your help. My little OPR case is going to go away on its own once Bree’s explodes and, don’t you worry, it will. As much as you want me to take you up on your offer, I’m used to working by myself. And I’m watching my back like a hawk. If you think you can come after me, think again. I’ve gone up against scarier shitheads than you and enjoyed myself while doing it.”

  I don’t know if he thought I was a full-blown idiot or just slightly dense because he shakes his head once before scraping a hand down his face. He knows he doesn’t have a leg to stand on.

  “And, by the way,” I add, just for fun, “there’s video, too.”

  “Fuck. You cannot release them. They’ll ruin me.” If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was blushing. But maybe he’s just pissed and about to blow an artery. Either way, I’ve had enough.

  Fucking loved listening to Jen beg last night but I’m not into that when it comes to my supervisor. I step into the elevator, press the button, and turn to see him still glaring at me. “Begging isn’t a good look on you. But, hey, give my regards to your wife and kids.”

  The doors close, but not before I see his eyes widen.

  I don’t think I’ll need to worry about Larry-the-Cheater anymore.

  Chapter 23

  Finality Fucking Sucks

  Jen

  It doesn’t matter what season it is, it’s like a rule. Every funeral I’ve ever attended, Mother Nature woke up that day with PMS from the depths of hell, giving everyone in her path the edge of her tongue and the back of her hand.

  Snow, wind, oppressive heat. There was even a freak ice storm the day my aunt was painfully laid to rest all those years ago. It was the first funeral I remember and one I’ll never forget—though, at the time, I was young and didn’t understand.

  Fall has left the building and winter decided to make an early, ugly entrance. Like an uninvited guest, rain whips at our umbrellas as we stand graveside where Patrick’s body is about to be lowered with finality and heartbreak. The temps have dropped to absurd lows for North Texas and the lashes of cold, stinging water are slapping us in the face, reminding me of my reality.

  So many ugly realities.

  My mother weeps softly next to me and I entwine my arm through hers. She leans into me as she dabs her sweet southern face with a hanky. My dad has his arm around her from the other side.

  My father.

  How can a man be so complex yet simple to the bone? Today is Thursday and he hasn’t been back to the office since Monday. He’s stayed close to my mom, helped Millie and Kate with funeral arrangements, and spent time with Jordy and Cara. A fierce man who loves his family to a fault—his passion to love and support goes so far overboard, there have been times in our lives where it has caused painful and bone-deep wounds.

  Some of those have festered and never healed.

  But unlike Ellie and Cam who belong to our mother, I am his. Cam simply left and didn’t come back. Ellie didn’t just leave, she fled the state of Texas in such a state of agony that the only thing that brought her back was my begging and Robert’s coercion. But I stayed and, even if he doesn’t know it, I did it for my dad.

  I’ve always overlooked—even forgiven—his overbearing need to guide and direct when, really, it’s been his way to get his way. I know I’m not perfect, but there are times in life when you have to say fuck it and love your people in spite of themselves.

  When it comes to Kipp Montgomery, I’m a practiced hand.

  Besides his demanding I take every precaution to stay safe, I’m more surprised than ever that he’s left me to it. It’s not like him. He hasn’t talked to me about work and, normally, he obsesses on every detail about the company. But what has surprised me more than anything is that he hasn’t gotten on me again about giving Eli access to MI. Or about me being with Eli. Or about Trig rolling back into town like a ghost reincarnated and the very weird turnabout that he’s now my lead attorney.

  No, Kipp Montgomery has been different this week and, quite honestly, it’s freaking me out.

  I have a date at the federal courthouse late next week. It’s my next chance at a dismissal. If the legal stars align that day, I’ll be able to check one pain-in-the-ass off my list. Though the more I meet with Trig, the more confident I am this false accusation against me is the simplest to fix of all the shit that’s currently swirling in my life. I need to figure out who’s trying to frame me but, first and foremost, as the days click on, we need to find out who took Patrick from us. I’m not so naïve as to think that one won’t lead to the other. I know it will, but just the thought of that is enough to bring me to my knees because that means my issues are the reason we’re standing in this rain-drenched cemetery right now.

  Eli spends every night with me. I focus on work and keep things moving forward with the Birmingham acquisition and he spends hours clicking his way through the networks of Montgomery Industries. He thought he was onto a lead the other night, but it ended up a dead end. His focus has been on who has access to the physical buildings and who’s tapping into the networks remotely.

  And something else on my list that’s giving me the evil eye is our need to replace Patrick. This makes my heart hurt and brings me to my knees all over again.

  The pastor brings the private, highly secure, graveside service to an end with a final prayer I should be focusing on but can’t. Ellie, who has flanked my side like a sentry all day, reaches out a gloved hand for me and grips my arm. I look over at my sister. Her golden hair was expertly piled on the back of her head but is now falling around her face because Mother Nature woke up bitchy. The only thing tarnishing her delicate, pixie features are streaks of silent tears running down her perfect, dewy skin. I lean over to kiss the side of her head as she sniffs and smears salt water across her face with her other hand encased in Italian leather.

  When murmurs replace prayers, I realize it’s done. Patrick has been gone since Sunday morning but it wasn’t done until now.

  Finality fucking sucks.

  I spoke with Millie and Kate before the service and, right now, they’re overwhelmed with consoling hugs and words that will never relieve their pain.

  I t
urn to Ellie and pull a tissue from my Saint Laurent clutch and hand it to her. “I’ve got to get back to the office. Will you be okay with Mom and Dad?”

  Robert looks from his phone to his wife. “I’ve got meetings this afternoon, too. You should go back with your parents to get Griff. I’ll see you at home tonight.”

  “I’m fine.” Ellie doesn’t look at Robert but nods and swipes at her tears, giving me her cloudy blue eyes. “We need to get together this weekend without Mom and Dad. I want to meet the man you’ve been hiding from everyone.” She lifts one of her shapely brows and adds, “I’m just glad I’m not the one making waves for once.”

  I give her a small smile and try to lighten the mood. “Don’t be a bitch in a cemetery. It’ll come back to haunt you.”

  Robert ignores us both and turns his attention back to his phone, mumbling, “I’ll ride back to the office with you, Jen.”

  I sigh and turn to my parents and pull them in for a hug. “Go spend your time with Jordy and Cara before Cam and Paige get back—focus on them. Dad, I’ll let you know if anything comes up at work.”

  My mom hugs me and, despite the current elephant that has parked its ass between my father and me, my dad plops a kiss on top of my head. “I’ll call you later. There’s a small outfit in Corpus that looks like it might be a good fit. I want you to start looking into their numbers.”

  I know the refinery he’s talking about because they just got slapped with so many environmental violations, it’ll take them years to recover financially. We could clean it up in months and he’s right. It would be a good fit.

  We say our goodbyes and Robert and I make our way to Donny, who’s waiting for us. I’m back to being chauffeured everywhere again, this time with an additional security detail who stands sentry at the rear of the Escalade, his eyes scanning the tombstone-littered space. I tiptoe through the mucky, wet grass in my Balenciaga knife booties, damning my decision for style over something more sensible—in this case, a pair of Hunters.