by Luma Rose
“So why have I been called here, Your Highness?” He bows and walks over to where I’m seated on the couch.
“Did we interrupt you snorting a line and banging a bunch of wannabe supermodels?” Ford says and takes his shot on the pool table.
“I was actually about to bang three at one time when Stone’s text rudely interrupted.” He spreads his arms wide along the back of the couch.
Lincoln snickers punching away on his laptop at the far end of the couch.
I decide to get right to the point. “My dad stopped by my office today and told me I need to marry Isla.”
Ryker spits out half the beer he just took a pull from. “The fuck?” he says.
I quickly fill them in on what my dad is after.
“What the hell are you gonna do?” Ford asks, his expression grim.
He knows my feelings about the institution of marriage. I’d rather cut off a fucking limb than willingly enter into a commitment that I’m convinced was the demise of my mother. She suffered so much in her marriage while I stood by as a witness, and in the end, she never got her happily ever after.
“I have no choice. Do any of you want to suffer the consequences?”
Asher laughs, still not taking anything seriously. “Well, my congratulations to the happy couple. Should we open the good stuff?” He stands and sways for a second before regaining his balance and walking toward the bar.
“That’s the last fucking thing you need,” Ryker grumbles.
“There’s got to be another way,” Ford says.
I shake my head. “There’s not. I’ll make sure my dad gets what’s coming to him, but in the meantime, I have no choice.”
I don’t tell them it’s as much for Isla’s protection as our own. There’s no telling what my father would do to get what he wants from her, and though I don’t know for certain, I doubt anything is off the table.
“What do you need us to do?” Lincoln asks. Always a man with a plan, that guy.
“I need you to dig into my dad again. See if there’s anything new to unearth that I can use as leverage against him.”
He nods.
It might be a futile effort—it’s not like Lincoln hasn’t tried before. My old man has dirty dealings, and everyone screws up. It’s only a matter of time before he does and leaves a trail of bread crumbs for Linc to find.
“What about the rest of us?” Ryker asks.
“Pray that I can convince Isla I’m a man worth marrying. For all our sakes.”
25
Chapter Twenty-five
Isla
“It says here that Holland Pharmaceuticals is testing a new drug that’s supposed to help diabetics.” I look to my dad. He’s still awake, lying in bed, but I can tell he is fighting his fatigue.
Case in point, I’m reading the newspaper to him because he doesn’t have the strength to hold it up.
“I heard about that on the news this morning. Sounds promising,” he says in a scratchy voice. Before he got sick, I’m positive he’d have been buying more stock in Holland Pharmaceuticals.
“Do you want some water, Papi?”
“No, I just want to listen to your voice.” He smiles at me.
I squeeze his hand. “I’ll read to you anytime you like.”
“Your date tonight, it’s with the Stone boy again?” he says, interrupting my reading the paper to talk personal life.
“It is.”
“He treats you well?”
Even as sick as he is, he still manages to pull off the stern father voice.
“So far so good.” I squeeze his hand again.
“Make sure it stays that way. I don’t like his father. He’s conniving, and the apple usually doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
I frown. I wasn’t aware my dad even knew Garrin’s father, beyond the point of knowing of him. I think back to Garrin’s exchange with his dad at the museum benefit. “I don’t get the impression that they’re close.”
He squeezes my hand, though not with as much force as he used to. “That’s probably a good thing, princesa.”
I continue reading to my dad until my mom comes in to tell me that Garrin has arrived for our date.
“I have to go, Papi.” I scoot off the bed and lean down and kiss his cheek.
“You have a good time,” he says, his eyes already drifting closed, giving in now that I’m leaving.
I turn and exchange a worried glance with my mom. She follows me out into the hall.
“He seems so tired,” I say as we walk down the hall.
“The doctor said it’s to be expected after his first treatment.”
“When will they know if the treatment is working?” I ask.
She reaches for my wrist and stops me. “Let’s take it one day at a time, all right, sweetheart?” I press my lips together and nod. “Now, you have a wonderful evening. You deserve it.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I lean in to give her a hug.
“I’m going to go back to your dad,” she says before walking away.
I make my way through the expanse of our house to the foyer, where Garrin stands with his phone in his hand, looking down at it. He’s wearing a long dark gray cashmere coat, but it’s not done up, so I can see the slate dress pants and black button-down shirt underneath.
My heels click when I reach the marble floor, grabbing his attention.
“You look gorgeous.”
His eyes eat me up and I mentally congratulate myself on a good outfit choice.
After much deliberation, I decided on an ivory sweater dress with a turtleneck and over-the-knee brown suede boots. My dark hair is down and in waves, and I did a dark brown smoky eyeshadow.
“You look nice too.”
He licks his bottom lip and all I can think about is kissing him again. The flutter in my belly tells me that I won’t be satisfied until it happens tonight. I cross my fingers we’re on the same page.
Garrin helps me on with my coat, and I grab my purse before leading me out to the drive where his black Lamborghini Urus is parked.
“No Langley tonight?” I ask when he opens the passenger door for me.
“I wanted you all to myself.”
He smiles, a rare occurrence, and closes the door to walk over to the driver’s side.
Garrin’s smile makes me feel like a teenager, and I remember the feeling of being young and hopeful about all the possibilities that lay ahead.
We chitchat on the way to the restaurant—a nouveau French one that just opened last month. I’ve heard that it takes months to get a reservation here, but I shouldn’t be surprised that Garrin was able to secure us a table with only a few days’ notice.
Once we settle in our seats and the waiter has brought us our drinks, we settle into a conversation about what we’re both dealing with at work. The conversation is comfortable and flows well. When he mentions working from home the previous night, it reminds me of something I’ve been curious about.
“How did Titans’ Tower come to exist? It’s an unusual setup.” I sip my wine.
“We came up with the plan in high school—we’d all live in the same building, party, do what we wanted, but make it so that it was a good investment should we ever decide to sell it or turn the rest of the building into condos to sell.”
I set my wineglass back down on the table. “So, most of the floors just sit empty?”
He nods. “Except for each of our living quarters, the Titans’ Den where we all meet up, Margaret’s living quarters and a gym on another floor, yep.”
“A home gym sounds divine.” I sigh.
Garrin wrinkles his forehead. “Your parents don’t have one?”
I shake my head. “No, neither of them was ever really the exercising type. Neither was I until I moved to Washington. When I started seeing my therapist, he suggested that exercise might be a good outlet for me to relieve some of the stress, and I’ve been hooked since.”
“What have you been doing since you came back to Cherry Creek?�
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“I joined a gym but I haven’t had as much time to work out as I usually do, what with my dad and working on the campaign… and you.” My cheeks heat.
He looks across the table thoughtfully at me for a moment. “I have an idea.”
“I liked your last idea—let’s hear it.”
He quirks a brow at me as though he’s lost as to what I’m referring to. That’s what I get for trying to be playful and sexy.
“At your place after I woke up…”
It’s like someone lit a torch in the depths of his dark eyes, because they light up and somehow the way he’s looking at me right now feels as if he’s remembering the moment all over again.
“I liked that idea too.”
His eyes continue to ravish my body until I grow uncomfortable and fidget.
“What’s your idea?” I ask.
“I was going to suggest a workout at the private gym in my building, but I rather like where your mind was headed.”
“A workout sounds great,” I blurt out for reasons I don’t understand. I do want this man but talking about it beforehand only makes me nervous.
“Wonderful. When we’re finished here, we’ll head to my place.”
“Wait. I don’t have any workout clothes or shoes.” I reach for my wine, happy to remove my gaze from his assessing one for a moment.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll call Margaret and she’ll take care of it.” He reaches for his phone on the table and immediately types away.
I swallow my wine. “But it’s getting late. Everything is probably closed.”
“Isla, you know as well as I do that the right amount of money can accomplish almost anything. Margaret’s a pro, she’ll handle it.”
“Okay.” The chiding and authority in his tone makes me believe him.
Sure enough, when we arrive at his house after dinner, there’s a package waiting for me.
26
Chapter Twenty-six
Garrin
“Margaret did a good job, what do you think?”
I raise up from tying my sneakers to find Isla standing there wearing black leggings and a sports bra that have a galaxy print on them. She might as well be a black hole because I can feel myself slowly being drawn into her, unable to escape.
All her curves are on display, as is her fit body and trim stomach, not to mention a lot of cleavage.
Margaret’s clearly trying to kill me.
“You don’t like it?” she asks, her disappointment clear in her voice.
“What gives you that idea?” I close the distance between us.
“You didn’t say anything.” She frowns.
I place my hand around the back of her neck and draw her in, resting my chin on the top of her head. “Isla, if you looked any better, I’d already have those leggings around your ankles, have you bent over this sofa and be shoved inside you.”
She takes a quick intake of breath.
“Now let’s go.” I need my own workout just to take the edge off this need to claim her that keeps building and building. If I’m going to work my way into her heart, I need to avoid scaring her off.
“Okay,” she whispers and heads out of the room toward the foyer.
I groan as I watch her firm ass walk away and adjust my dick, which now feels like it has its own pulse in my gym shorts.
After an agonizing minute in the elevator, in which I stood as far away from Isla and all her spandex as possible, we reach the gym level.
“Holy crap, this place has everything.” Isla steps off the elevator.
“Pretty much, yeah. There’s a juice bar over in the corner with a fridge under the counter. You can grab some water from there if you need it.”
“Thanks.”
She stands and takes in all the equipment—the cardio area with different treadmills, bikes and stair-climbers—don’t ask me why Ryker insisted we have one as it’s never been used. There’s a weight area—both free and stationary—and then there’s a sparring and boxing area. Installing the gym was an afterthought, and it wasn’t built until we were all already living here. We just all got sick of working out at the private gym at the country club and having to deal with the constant battery of women who were looking to become our wives. The women there would put out, but they always expected it to go somewhere afterward.
“What do you usually start on?” I ask.
“The treadmill. I like to get my heart rate up right away before I move to free weights.”
I nod, hands on my hips. “Have at it. I’m going to start on the weights. There’s some towels over there if you need one.” I gesture to the opposite corner to the built-in filled with perfectly folded gym towels.
“Great.” She walks over to the closest treadmill while I make my way over to the free weights.
The blessing and the curse of the place is that this room is wrapped in mirrors from corner to corner. So not only am I able to watch Isla the whole time, I’m able to see how her tits bounce up and down after she’s done her brief warm-up and starts running.
I force myself not to watch but it’s like her chest is a blinking neon light in a bar window. I grunt as I lift a heavier weight than normal, needing to expend some of this restless energy building inside of me. After twenty minutes of punishing my body, I’m sweating. I hate the feel of my shirt clinging to my back while I lift, so I reach around behind my neck and tug my shirt off, tossing it to the side.
When my eyes search the mirror to find Isla, she’s already looking at me. She’s still running at a good pace, body and hair slicked with sweat while her sneakers pound against the treadmill. I hold her gaze for a minute.
My cock twitches in my pants, but I ignore it. I can’t push, and she’s probably not ready.
I’m concentrating so hard on the bicep curl I’m doing that I don’t hear the treadmill stop or notice her come up behind me. I’m not even sure how many times she calls my name before I spot her in the mirror and turn to face her.
“All done with your cardio?” I ask.
She nods, not saying anything, her gaze taking me in from head to toe.
“Everything okay?”
She nods again and bites the corner of her bottom lip. Then, like I’ve imagined her doing a thousand times, she drops to her knees in front of me.
I pitch the weight off to the side and it lands with a loud thud. “What are you doing?” My voice is hoarse.
“What does it look like?” She reaches for the waistband of my shorts, but I grip her wrists.
“Let me rephrase the question. Why are you doing this?”
I have to be the world’s biggest fucking moron to try and refuse to have my dick sucked by the woman I’ve wanted since high school.
“Garrin, you’re the first man who’s made me want to do this. Not to please someone I’m seeing, not because I should want it even if I don’t, but because I want it for myself, my own pleasure. Please don’t deny me this time.” Her voice is low and husky and it breaks down any resolve I have left.
I release her wrists and watch as she pulls down the elastic waistband of my shorts. My hard cock immediately springs free, almost hitting her in the face. She looks up at me with her big brown eyes full of need and shimmies my shorts down to my ankles.
My breath is trapped in my chest when she grips the base of my dick and leans in with her tongue out, licking the precum off the tip. All the air comes out in a rush when she moans as if she enjoys the taste of me. Then her plump lips wrap around the head of my cock while she uses her hand to jerk me off.
Without thought, my hands tangle in the long layers of her hair. How many times did I fuck my fist imagining this scene right here? Isla on her knees in front of me with my cock shoved down her throat. It’s even better than I could have imagined.
She moans when I grip her hair a little tighter when she shoves me all the way to the back of her throat. The sound is like a starter pistol at the beginning of a race. I thrust into her mouth and she takes me welc
omingly and willingly. Even when I push in and hold her there, she doesn’t push against my thighs looking for air. She takes what I give her without question.
God, she’s perfect.
Isla continues to bob on my cock and I look up at the mirror across from us, then the ones beside us and finally I look over my shoulder, enjoying the three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view. The only thing that would make it better would be if she were bared for me to see, but even so, the outfit she’s in leaves little to the imagination. And there’s always next time.
She swirls her tongue at the end of my tip and then dives back down to the base, choking when I push past the back of her throat. I hold her there for a minute and her gaze darts up to mine, not questioning, not panicked. Her eyes are full of lust and satisfaction. She likes when I take control.
I let her off my dick and she sputters, catching her breath, saliva dripping down her chin. I give her a few seconds to pull more air into her lungs before I shove her back onto my dick. I groan when she sucks in her cheeks, pulling me in further. A few more of those and I’m ready to explode. I’d love nothing more than for this to keep going, but I can’t hold off any longer.
“I’m gonna come down your throat and you’re going to take all of it.”
Without giving her a chance to resist, my dick pulses and I empty my load into the back of her throat, gripping her hair and watching in the mirrored wall to our right as she swallows me down. The satisfaction, as if I’ve branded her as mine, would be scary if I allowed myself to dwell on it.
I loosen my grip and she pulls back off my cock, looking up at me, messy hair, drooling chin and watery eyes. For a second I worry that I took it too far, scared her off, but then she opens her mouth to speak.
“I could probably use that towel now.”
I chuckle, reaching my hand out to help her to her feet. “Hang on, I’ll go grab one.” I pull my shorts up to my waist and walk over to the stack of towels. “Here you go.” I pass it to her, and she wipes her mouth and chin.