His Invitation (X Enterprises Book 3)

by Tanya Gallagher

  Brad stood beside Deacon and crossed his arms over his chest to survey the room. “Good turnout tonight.”

  “Always is,” Deacon said. “Just be glad you weren’t here during happy hour.”

  Brad gave him a commiserating nod. “Those five-cent beers always do it. Happy hour might be the one time in Margaritaville that no one’s actually happy.”

  Deacon nodded and stacked a few cups. “You going to be here long?”

  “Just checking in.” Brad uncrossed his arms to lay a palm on Deacon’s shoulder. “Listen, about your hours.” Deacon tensed, and Brad dropped his hand. “I just think right now that it makes sense to keep the work with the girls. So you can take a little extra time for yourself. Go relax.”

  Was he kidding right now? “I don’t want to relax,” he ground out. “I want to make a living.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Just wait until next quarter and let’s see what happens.” Brad tried to wave away his concern, but Deacon’s jaw tensed.

  “July’s just a few weeks away. Technically that’s next quarter.”

  Brad sucked on his teeth. “Right.”

  “You going to change your mind in two weeks, Brad?” His boss’s eyes darted away, and Deacon sighed. “I thought so.”

  Why was he even spending his time building someone else’s brand? If someone like Brad could come in and wipe away Deacon’s livelihood with a quick tap in his phone’s calendar, then any stability he had was just an illusion. Even if he wasn’t working for Pináculo Tequila, there was always going to be another Brad somewhere. Deacon was never going to get ahead this way.

  Unless he did his own thing.

  He reached for the cap on an unopened bottle of tequila, a sense of calm flooding through him. “It’s okay, Brad. I’ll finish out tonight. But consider this notice of my resignation.”

  “What?”

  He held Brad’s eye. “I’ll spell it out for you. I quit.” God, that felt good.

  “You can’t leave me hanging.” His boss’s face scrunched and turned red.

  “You look like you’re about to take a shit, Brad.”

  “Excuse me?” Brad coughed out.

  Deacon’s smile bared all his teeth. “I’m not going to sit around and wait for you to decide I can pick up those dwindling hours. It’s not worth it.”

  “What are you going to do instead?” Brad sputtered. “Go to a competitor?”

  Deacon grinned at Brad, his chest light. “I’m actually starting my own company. Custom furniture designs.”

  Maybe Emma was right and he really could do it. Maybe her faith in him would be enough to help him find his footing.

  Deacon turned away from Brad and beamed at his next customer. “Can I get you a shot?”

  Emma was on her yoga mat in the living room when Deacon walked out of his room on Sunday morning. She was on her hands and knees, arching her back toward the ceiling like a cat. Then she dropped her back and raised her head, her butt lifted toward the sky.

  His cock was instantly hard.

  Deacon walked behind Emma and dropped to his knees, lining up his hips with hers and stretching over her back. He placed a hand next to each of hers and kissed her cheek.

  She giggled underneath him and arched her butt into his lap. She gasped as she felt his erection hard against her, and Deacon smiled.

  “What’s this move called?” he whispered into her ear. “Doggy-style?”

  “Cat-cow.” Emma spun in his arms and met him with a kiss. “You’re up way too early to be so happy. What are you smiling about?”

  He stood and scanned her body. “You in that tight little outfit. Did I ever tell you how hot that is?”

  She grinned. “I mean, tell me again.”

  “Very hot.”

  She tapped a finger to her lips. “Okay, but why else are you so happy?”

  Deacon groaned. She could read him too easily. How had that happened? “I quit my job, Sass.”

  “You did?” Her mouth fell open, and she searched his face.

  He nodded. “Figured it might be about time to do something for myself. Maybe start up my furniture business once and for all.”

  Emma squealed and jumped up to wrap him in a hug. “That’s incredible.”

  “Hell, for that reaction, I’d quit my job every day.”

  She gave him a teasing smack on the arm. “You know, I think we should brainstorm business names. Like, Wood You Like To Sit Here?” She trailed a hand down his body. “Mr. Hardwood? The Wood Shop.”

  He groaned as his cock tightened in her hand. “Wood jokes. Easy, but also hard.”

  She laughed. “That is a terrible pun, but I’ll take it. Woodcock?”

  “Ooh, I like that one.”

  Deacon kissed her, and she sighed against him, melting her body around his. He walked her backward until her shoulders bumped into the sliding glass doors that led to the balcony, smiling the whole time. How could he not smile? Emma was here with him, and his future was a blank page, ready to be filled.

  Emma stroked Deacon over his pants while he lifted the hem of her yoga shirt up over her body and off of her, leaving her in a skimpy sports bra.

  Hell yes. The sight of this girl was a thousand wet dreams waiting to happen, and he knew he’d relive this moment again and again.

  Deacon dropped to his knees and reached for the waistband of Emma’s yoga tights.

  She lowered her hand to his and stopped the gentle tug of his fingers. “Deacon, the windows.”

  He grinned at her. Her eyes were lit up, her hair loosened from its ponytail. She was fucking radiant. And all his. “What about them? They’re reflective. No one can see in.”

  Her eyes widened, and a smile crept onto her face. She pushed her hips toward him. “In that case, carry on.”

  “With pleasure.”

  Deacon swirled his tongue over her hip as he peeled off her pants, leaving her almost fully naked against the huge glass wall. Emma’s breasts heaved against the material of her bra as she gulped in air, and she closed her eyes as he moved his hands along her thighs. This was everything he needed today—Emma’s skin, soft and smooth, her smile as wide and warm as summer.

  Deacon spread Emma’s legs with his hands, letting his lips continue their trail toward her core. When he pushed his tongue inside her, she tasted like salt and sugar. Like a goddamn dessert margarita.

  “Oh god, Deacon.” Emma dropped a hand to his head, scraped it through his hair and held him against her.

  He licked her and savored her because he could and because he wanted to, and when a sweat rose on her skin, he dropped back onto his heels. “We’ve already determined you’re pretty damn flexible. Let’s see how your cardiovascular endurance is.”

  Emma opened her eyes and looked down at him through her lashes. “Let’s give it a try.”

  Deacon surged to his feet, shucking off his pants and boxers.

  “Condom,” Emma gasped. “In my work tote.”

  He nodded and walked to the kitchen to grab her purse, pulling out a condom and rolling it on as he strode back to her.

  Early morning light from outside framed Emma like a halo, her smooth skin and curves a contrast to the sharp, straight lines of the buildings outside. “You look gorgeous,” he said.

  Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “Why, thank you.”

  He leaned a hand on the glass on either side of her head to kiss her, and her tiny moan of approval made him dizzy. She wrapped one leg around his back and pulled him to her, and finally he gave her what she wanted, slipping his cock into her heat.

  He reached one hand around her back to hold her as he stroked into her, a pleasure tightening inside him each time she trembled against him.

  “You’re mine, Emma,” he growled as he thrust into her, her ass slapping against the glass, their hips moving together.

  “Yes,” she moaned. “A very good decision.”

  Deacon kept fucking her, making love to her, until his muscles strained with the effort of keepi
ng them both upright. Then he dropped his hand from the window and grabbed her ass, lifting her into his arms. Emma ground against him, still riding his cock as he walked backward to the couch.

  He dropped onto the cushions, and Emma braced herself with a hand on his shoulder, her knees on either side of his body. Then she lifted up and lowered onto him, sheathing him and making the air sigh out of him. He tightened his hands on her back, holding her, helping her lift and find a rhythm.

  “I love when you fuck me, Emma.”

  Her eyes were bright. “Let’s do a lot more of it, then.”

  They were locked together, face to face, everything tight and snug, and maybe this was closer than they’d ever been before. Her heart pounded against his, her face this mix of concentration and pleasure, her eyelashes fluttering and her lips parted as she moaned.

  “Keep going, sweetheart,” he said. “You’re going to make me come so hard.”

  “Deacon, I…” she started, and it almost didn’t matter what Emma was going to say next, because whatever it was, he was right there with her. Every touch, every emotion, every piece of him.

  “I know, sweetheart,” he whispered against her mouth. “Me too.”

  She nodded and squeezed her inner muscles, and his vision filled with stars. Her body slowed, stiffening as she neared her climax, and Deacon took over, moving her up and down, racing with her toward the end.

  Emma came with a wordless cry, and he bucked his hips and found his release, pumping into her, giving, giving, giving.

  She sagged against him and dropped her forehead onto his. They sat like that for a minute, just breathing, just reveling in this glow.

  “Wow,” Emma whispered. “Just wow.”

  Deacon moved a hand up her back and cradled her head, soothing her with a kiss. “You’re not just a storm, Sass. You’re a fucking hurricane.”

  She smiled back at him. “If that’s your way of saying we should do that again, I agree.”

  Emma lifted off of him and reached for her phone on the edge of the coffee table.

  “You calling someone to tell them how good that was?” he asked.

  She grinned. “No, Deacon. I’m texting Bex to tell her I won’t be making it to lunch today.”

  He shook his head. “No one’s ever going to believe you’re not hungry.”

  “Oh, I’m hungry.” A mischievous glint shone in Emma’s eyes. She sank to her knees in front of him on the living room carpet. “Just not for food.”

  Chapter 21

  Emma’s stomach growled as she scanned the material certifications that the X Enterprises receiving department had just dropped on her desk. The sooner she got through this review, the sooner she could break for lunch.

  A knock on her office door interrupted her, and she lifted her head at the sound.

  Bex stood in the doorframe, a neon green vibrator prototype in hand. “I come bearing gifts,” she said.

  Emma grinned and waved her inside. “You know me too well. But you might want to reconsider the color on that.”

  Bex made a face. “That’s what I thought, too. Maybe teal?”

  Emma wrinkled her nose. “Definitely something that looks less like a fluorescent booger.”

  “Eww.” Bex set the vibrator on the edge of Emma’s desk. “Can you do me a favor and make sure the components are all installed properly so this won’t have any weird burnout or electrical issues?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Awesome.” Bex smiled at Emma and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “One last thing. Are you free for lunch? My treat.”

  Emma nodded and stacked the material certifications in a pile. They could wait. Her stomach could not. “It’s like you know the magic words.”

  She slung her tote bag over her shoulder and followed Bex through the hallways of X Enterprises and out into the parking lot. The industrial area around the X Enterprises manufacturing facility meant slim pickings for lunch, so they would need to drive to get anywhere remotely good.

  Bex unlocked her car, and Emma slid into the passenger seat. “Thanks for rescuing me from those certs,” Emma said.

  “Anytime.” Bex put the car into drive and headed out toward the main road. “You know, Avery sent me a draft of the responses she’s sending over to Sexational Magazine.”

  Emma’s hand tightened on the armrest of the car. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. She did a whole song and dance about how she wanted to get this off to the publisher right away but how you insisted you wouldn’t let it go to print without my approval.”

  “Well, yeah.” Emma trained her eyes out the window. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I don’t want the credit.”

  Bex’s voice came out low and earnest. “But you deserve it.” She cleared her throat. “I need to apologize. I know it must seem like I got prickly about everything with this article. But it’s not you. I’m still a little distracted with Gabe.” She sighed. “It’s not easy balancing a partner when you’ve flown solo for so long.”

  Emma huffed out a laugh and turned toward Bex. “Tell me about it.”

  Bex kept an eye trained on the road, but she lifted her eyebrows. “You know, we missed you at lunch yesterday. Colton was asking about you.”

  Emma cringed at the mention of Colton. She still hadn’t talked to him since that disastrous night, and she didn’t know what the hell to say to him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it. I was…tied up.”

  “Tied up with Deacon?” Bex grinned as she signaled her next turn.

  Emma couldn’t contain her smile. “Among other things.” But mostly with Deacon.

  “Ha!” Bex slapped her hand against the steering wheel. “I knew it. Good for you, babe.”

  Emma blushed. “Thank you.”

  Bex’s laughter felt like a truce. “I’m really happy for you, you know. You deserve it. I’m just sorry I missed the whole start of this.”

  Emma shrugged. “I’m pretty sure your neon green vibrator was a peace offering. And anyway, if I recall correctly, you did encourage me to sleep with him.”

  “See? There you go.” Bex flipped on her blinker and prepared to turn into the parking lot of a Ruby Tuesday. “By the way, do you know why was Colton so twitchy at lunch?”

  Emma sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “Great question. Deacon has a theory, and I need your advice.”

  “Let’s hear it,” Bex said, aiming the car into a parking spot and cutting the engine.

  Emma unclicked her seatbelt. “Absolutely.” She could use Bex’s thoughts on the situation. “But first, we must fortify with food.”

  Deacon sat at the kitchen table, a spread of papers covering the surface. He looked up and grinned as Emma dropped her keys into the bowl on the kitchen counter.

  “Well, don’t you look gorgeous today.” He scanned his eyes over her body, raking heat along with his gaze.

  Emma smoothed a hand over her skirt. “Thank you.”

  Deacon twisted his mouth into a wry grin. “Although, you should probably take off your heels. We both know they’re a hazard.”

  She shook her head at him. “I thought you had visions of them around your neck.” She tapped a finger to her lips. “Or was it them around some other guy’s neck?” she teased.

  “Easy, Sass. I don’t share.” He smirked, and her stomach dipped. “Unless you wanted to bring home a female friend.”

  “Don’t get too far ahead of yourself.” Emma slipped off her shoes and crossed to the kitchen table. She bent down near Deacon’s ear. “I don’t share either.”

  “Good.” Deacon grabbed her hips and pulled her onto his lap.

  She squealed and looped her arms around his neck, then placed a smacking kiss on his cheek.

  “You’re feisty today.” Deacon squeezed her hip.

  “I’m feeling pretty damn good, myself. Bex and I patched everything up.” They had, hadn’t they? Emma had set Avery straight on the article, and Bex wasn’t distant anymore, even giving Emma some much-needed
advice about Colton.

  “I’m really glad to hear that.” Deacon stroked a hand through her hair, and a wash of pleasure relaxed her muscles.

  “Me too.” It would be so easy to stare into his eyes for hours, especially when he looked at her like she was a pile of gold. He had no idea what it meant to her to be adored like that, to feel so cherished.

  Emma blinked back grateful tears and lowered her eyes, for the first time focusing on the papers blanketing the table.

  “What are these?” She dropped one of her hands from Deacon’s neck so she could pull the sheet closer to her.

  “Well, since I’m a man of my own making, I thought it was about time I got serious about this furniture business.” He tapped the paper in her hand. “These are some design sketches. Once I have a few signature pieces in my line, I’ll start to source my materials.”

  “I’m guessing Home Depot might not cut it anymore?”

  “It might. I have to see. And I need to get some marketing materials together. Maybe figure out a website.” Deacon sighed, his face strained. “It’s a lot.”

  She squeezed his hand. “You’ll be fine.”

  “I’m just thinking I should have started the business before I cut off my job. A little funding would have been nice.”

  “You just need to get crafty. Figure out what expenses are non-negotiable and what you can do yourself.”

  “You’re a smart woman, Emma Harrington.” He cocked his head. “I mean, you are with me.” She rolled her eyes, and he kissed the tip of her nose. “Speaking of crafty, now that you and Bex are on the mend, do you think I could get Gabe’s contact information? I should probably call him.”

  “Yeah, I can do that.”

  If she kept smiling at him like an overbearing grandma, she was going to scare him off. So she dropped her eyes again and reached for another sketch. This time the paper contained a drawing of a bookshelf that looked familiar.

  She read the description at the bottom of the page. “The Emma?”

  “For book-loving ladies who rock a pair of yoga pants like no one can.”