Rich and Seductive: The Fraternity Brothers Series Book Three

by Rose, Emerson

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Well, I have to get on with life. Have your guy stick around the house when you go to work. I’m not going anywhere. It’ll be fine.”

  He is quiet for a while. When he sits up, he reaches over to lay his hand on my knee, igniting a fire between my legs. I’ve never been this insatiable in my life. All he has to do is look at me out of the corner of his eye from across the room, and it’s on. I think I’ve had more sex this week than I’ve had in the past two years.

  “I don’t like it, but I’ll allow it as long as you let Claude come inside.”

  “Allow it? Last I checked, I was a full-grown woman who can make her own decisions, and one of those decisions is that I don’t want a stranger in my house. It’s too small, and there’s no place for him to be inconspicuous.”

  “I didn’t mean to overstep. I love you, and I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you because of me.”

  Love. I’m almost sure he just said he loves me. It was in a casual context, though. He didn’t mean love, love, did he? Surely, he meant that he loves me like a friend loves another friend. Right?

  I must have been quiet for too long because when I look over at Lennon, he’s staring at me waiting for a response. I’ve forgotten everything he said other than the word ‘love.’

  “Trinity. You look like you’re having heat stroke. Do we need to go inside?”

  “No, I, uh, I’m fine but…”

  He tilts his head expectantly. “But…”

  “Did you just say you loved me?” I blurt out all at once.

  “Yes, I did. Is that okay? I thought you understood my feelings for you.”

  “I did, I do, I mean I know you care for me as I do you, but love is such a big step.”

  “Not for me. I’ve told you before, I knew I loved you from the moment I opened my eyes in the hospital and saw you there at my bedside. If you want me to keep it to myself until you catch up, I’ll try, but I can’t guarantee it won’t come spilling out like it just did.”

  “No. I don’t want you to keep it to yourself. I like hearing it and…”

  He waits for me to finish, and when I have my thoughts straight, I do. “I love you, too, Lennon. I think I always have, I just didn’t want to admit it because of the way we met. What I feel for you I’ve never felt for anyone before. You’re different. We’re different together, better, stronger, whole.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. I’m glad we’re finally on the same page.” He leans over and kisses me softly on the cheek. “Mmm, you’re hot. I think you’re burning. We should go inside,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.

  “Am I really burning, or do you just want to get me back into bed?”

  “Both. Your cheeks and shoulders are red, and I want to see you naked, so going inside is a win-win for us both.”

  “You’re going to have a funny tan line on that leg, you know?”

  He glances down at his cast. “I rarely wear shorts, it’ll be fine.”

  “What do you wear in the summer?”

  “Slacks and suits.”

  “You never hang out in shorts? Do you work all the time?”

  “I work a lot, yes.”

  I feel my bottom lip going out in a pout and pull it back. He’s starting his career. It’s important for him to work long hours. But quality time together is my love language, and I need that to thrive in a relationship.

  “Don’t worry, Angel, I’ll make plenty of time for you.” He reaches out to brush his knuckles gently against my sunburned cheek.

  “Ouch, you’re right, I’m burning. Let’s go inside.”

  “You don’t have to say that twice. Could you pass me my crutch?”

  I hand him a crutch and gather up our bottles of water, sunscreen, and towels. He can’t maneuver well in the sand on crutches, so he uses one and drapes his other arm over my shoulders. We struggle to the deck stairs. When we reach the top, I notice Bodhi surfing with his buddies farther out in the water than I would ever be comfortable going.

  Lennon notices. “Do you surf?” he asks.

  “No way. I love the ocean, but I respect it, too. I’m not brave enough nor a good enough swimmer to paddle out that far. Do you surf?” I can’t imagine Lennon surfing, he’s all business.

  “I used to a little. A couple of the guys in the fraternity house surfed. I didn’t have enough time to dedicate to it with school and extracurricular activities.”

  “What kind of extracurricular activities?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.

  “Not the kind you’re insinuating. Track, student government, volunteer work.”

  “Oh.”

  “Disappointed?”

  I shrug one shoulder and drape our towels over the deck to dry before helping him inside. “No. The only extracurricular activities I did in school were illegal. It’s cool that you were giving back to the community and staying healthy.”

  I was a wreck all through secondary school and university. It’s a miracle I graduated both on time. I hate thinking about that part of my life. I’m a different person now in almost every way.

  “I wasn’t a saint, don’t get me wrong. The guys and I got into a couple of fights and partied at some sketchy places, but I had to be careful because I was pursuing a law degree. I couldn’t get caught, so I tried my best to steer clear of trouble.”

  “I’m glad I didn’t meet you back then. You would have run the other way and rightfully so.”

  He sits on the couch in his sandy swim trunks, and I cringe. I don’t have time to complain before he pulls me down on top of him and unties my bikini top. “We’ve christened this room already. Three times,” I say between kisses.

  “We only have the bathroom left, and I can’t get this damn cast wet so the living room it is.”

  I laugh, and he scoots up the couch until he is lying on his back with me straddling him. I bought an unusually wide couch in case I have more than one guest staying with me. I’ve never been happier about that purchase than I am right now.

  His hands slide up my torso and cup my bare breasts. I can feel him harden under me, and it makes my heart beat faster. Every time with him is more exciting than the time before. His dilated pupils tell me that this isn’t going to be slow, seductive sex. It’s going to be hot, rough, and passionate, and exactly what I’m in the mood for.

  I pull the strings on the bottom of my swimsuit and lean forward, allowing him to toss it on the floor. He lifts his hips to slide down his suit, and his thick cock springs free. I take it in my hands, preparing to stroke him, but he shakes his head. “I want you now. I need to feel your heat around me.”

  I rise on my knees, and he aligns himself with me gasping when I sink down around him. “Goddammit, Trinity, this gets better every time,” he says, closing his eyes and pushing his head into the pillow behind him.

  I place my palms on his pectoral muscles and begin fucking him hard, slamming down onto him over and over as his fingers dig into the flesh of my ass. I want to kiss, lick, and even bite him, but I don’t dare bend over and ruin the rhythm we have going.

  Our eyes lock, and I notice an almost invisible nod that I have learned to interpret as ‘get ready I’m going to come.’ I love climaxing simultaneously—it feels more intimate like we were able to pull off a special trick.

  I’m almost there when he thrusts up hard and grunts, pulsing inside of me. My orgasm takes over, and we fall into the abyss of white-hot electric shocks, spasming muscles, and slick skin until I collapse on top of him panting and sated.

  Why can’t the real world wait another week? I need more of this.

  23

  Lennon

  Getting out of bed this morning to go to work was the hardest thing I’ve done in years. Leaving Trinity feels like a sin, wrong in so many ways. I sat on the bed and watched her sleep for ten minutes before I went to cover my cast with a garbage bag so I could shower.

  I dress in the one suit I brought with me—a dark navy besp
oke suit made by my father’s personal tailor. Thankfully, the cast fits under the slacks. My father would shoot me if I altered this suit. It was a gift when I graduated from law school.

  I don’t want to wake Trinity, so I’ve called Callahan to drive me to work. He is waiting outside for me at eight fifteen, sharp. I watch him get out of the car to help me and hold up my hand. “I’ve got it, thank you, Callahan. I appreciate you coming to get me.”

  “Of course, sir. It’s been quiet at the house. I’m glad to be out and about.”

  “I’m sorry about that. We will be coming home soon. Or I should say, I’ll be coming home soon. I’m not sure if Trinity will be joining me. She adores her home.”

  “It’s very… quaint,” Callahan says with a tight smile. He’s old-fashioned and prefers a sprawling mansion full of antiques like my father’s house. I used to think I was happy there, but after spending time near the ocean with Trinity, I might reconsider.

  I nod at Leo, who is standing in for Claude today, sitting in his gray Range Rover in the street as we drive by, and he nods back. His presence is the only reason I’m going to work today. After hearing that BJ was at Bodhi’s house last night for another bonfire, I’ve been on edge. Claude spotted him arriving, and he text me this morning before he left. I was glad Trinity felt like watching movies on the couch instead of having a beer on the deck as we have been the past few nights. Now if she’ll only sleep in late and stick around the house until I get back.

  24

  Trinity

  Construction should only be allowed after noontime. I roll over and find the other side of my bed empty and cold. Work, that’s right, he had to go to work today. It’s crazy how accustomed I’ve become to having him next to me every morning in such a short time. Having him here feels like destiny and not merely serendipitous. It’s as if our pairing was mapped out in the stars and not just a happy coincidence.

  I’ve woken up by myself in this bed for years, but this is the first time I’ve felt alone. He’s coming back this evening, don’t be so melancholy, Trinity. I roll out of bed and pad to the kitchen for coffee. Bikini follows silently behind and hops up onto the island to wait for her breakfast, which I give to her before my coffee so that she won’t drive me crazy begging.

  Hot coffee in hand, I open the patio doors and step out into the misty morning. It’s half past nine o’clock, and the fog has long since burned off, allowing me to see the surfers sitting on their boards waiting for the next wave. They’ve probably been out here for hours already. I admire their dedication to the sport, or the spirit, as some of them believe. Surfers like Bodhi believe surfing is much more than a sport—it’s a lifestyle, a calling, a religion. Maybe that’s why he’s one of the best. He’s connected to the water like no one else.

  I hear a noise under the deck that makes me pause and listen—probably a stray dog or some other animal rummaging around down there looking for food or a nice place to take a nap. I sit in my lounger and scroll through social media sites and then read an article in the news about the rise in healthcare costs. Usually, I have another cup of coffee, but today I think I’ll take a walk on the beach instead.

  Inside, Bikini has finished her food and is meticulously cleaning her face. If cats had mental disorders, I think they’d all be OCD. I scratch her ears as I pass, and she ducks her head, giving me an annoyed ‘how dare you I just cleaned that part’ look.

  In my bedroom, I dress in shorts and a tank top and put on a pair of Converse before heading out to the deck and down to the beach. When I hit the bottom step, I remember Claude outside in his car watching my house and consider texting him to let him know I’m going on a walk. We haven’t heard from BJ all week. I think the bodyguard thing is overkill at this point, and I’m tired of feeling like a prisoner in my own house. I’m going on a walk, it’s broad daylight, and there are people all over the beach. What would he do if he showed up, anyway?

  It’s not a perfect sunny California day, but I like days like this—just a little overcast and cooler than usual. I smile at a mother and her two kids arriving on the beach and collect a couple of shells along the way to a jagged rock that juts out over the water. I’ve determined that this rock is half a mile from my house so to the rock and back is a mile walk or run when I’m trying to get in some exercise, which isn’t often enough.

  I turn to head back and get the feeling that someone is watching me. I’m probably being paranoid or maybe Claude figured out I was gone and came looking for me but is staying out of sight. I look around and try to shake off the creepy feeling, but it sticks with me, determined to make me wary.

  No one looks suspicious or out of place on the beach or near the houses I pass on the way back. You’re fine, it’s been too long since you’ve gone out on your own, that’s all. I keep walking and scanning the area, my outing ruined by fear, and that pisses me off. I did the right thing. I helped a woman. I shouldn’t be afraid.

  Back at home, I slide the door open on the deck and toe off my shoes, leaving them outside, so I don’t track in the sand. I head to the bathroom to shower and lock the door. I never lock the door. What the hell is wrong with me? I reach to unlock it feeling stupid for being paranoid in my own home, but stop when I hear the floorboards creak in the living room.

  I know every board that creaks in this house because I built it myself, and it’s so small. Nothing makes that board in the living room creak except significant weight like that of a person. Bikini can run over it all day and not make a sound. My friend Jasmine’s dog who weighs forty pounds can’t make it creak. Someone is in my house.

  My phone, where the hell is my phone? I look around wildly and almost cry with relief when I see it on the counter. I left it here when I dressed for my walk. I grab it and hesitate, should I call 911 or Lennon or Claude first? Claude, he’s closest, and I can hang up and call 911 after.

  I scroll through my contact list and press call when I come to his name. I hear the creak again and decide to turn on the water so that the intruder won’t know I’m on to him. Claude answers, “Miss Thomas, is there a problem?”

  I pause unsure if I should speak and decide the water will cover the sound of my voice if I talk quietly. “There’s someone in the house. I’m hanging up to call 911.”

  “Ma’am, I’m not there today. Mr. Berkshire has another guard watching the house.”

  Shit, shit, shit. “What other guard? You’ve been here every day.”

  “His name is Leo, I’ll call him and tell him to come inside. Are you in a secure location?”

  “I’m in the bathroom of a fifteen hundred square foot house. I don’t think there’s a safer place right now. The door is locked. I have to go.” I disconnect the call and wipe the sweat from my forehead as I dial 911. What a stupid time to switch guards, what was Lennon thinking?

  “911, what’s your emergency?”

  “Someone is in my house. My address is 684 Sugar Street. Please hurry.”

  “What’s the number you’re calling from?”

  “Um, 555-2678.”

  “What ‘your name?”

  “Trinity Thomas, why do you need my name, just send someone, please.”

  “Are you in a safe place in the house?”

  Why the hell does everybody keep asking me that? No place is safe in a house when there’s an intruder, dammit. “As safe as I can be. I’m locked in the bathroom,” I whisper.

  “Stay there. I’m dispatching officers right now. Are you injured?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “Don’t hang up, stay on the line with me.”

  “Is someone coming?”

  “Yes, police are on the way. Stay in the bathroom. Don’t open the door.”

  No kidding.

  I hear the intruder walking toward the bathroom and shrink into the corner furthest from the door. A text pings on my phone, and I rush to put it on silent when I see it’s Lennon messaging to see how my morning is going. I respond with shaky fingers.

  Me: In
truder in the house. On the phone with 911. Claude is calling the new guard.

  He responds immediately.

  Lennon: Where are you?

  Me: Bathroom.

  Lennon: Do you see my bag?

  I look around and see his black leather duffle bag on the floor behind the door.

  Me: Yes.

  Lennon: There’s a gun inside. Take it out. It’s loaded. All you have to do is aim and shoot.

  A gun? Why didn’t he tell me he had a gun in my house?

  Me: I don’t know how to shoot a gun.

  “Ma’am, are you still there?” the 911 operator asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Is the intruder still in the house?”

  “Yes, I can hear him moving around.”

  “Okay, stay where you are.”

  Lennon texts again.

  Lennon: You don’t have to. It’s a simple gun, just hold it with both hands and keep your finger on the trigger. I’m on my way. Stay in the bathroom.

  I crawl as quietly as I can across the bathroom and unzip Lennon’s bag. Inside, just as he said, there’s a gun. I pick it up, and it’s heavy in my hand. I can’t maneuver the phone and the gun at the same time, so I tuck the phone between my shoulder and my ear and scoot away from the door.

  Footsteps approach, and I see a shadow of feet under the door. I let the phone drop into my lap and raise the gun with shaky hands. The intruder pounds on the door nearly making me pull the trigger, and I yelp.

  “Lady, I’m gonna break down this door if you don’t come out,” a gruff voice says.

  “Who’s there?”

  “Someone who’s pissed at you for making my girlfriend disappear.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve called 911, the police are on their way. You need to leave.”

  “I’m not going nowhere till you tell me where Kelly is, bitch.” He pounds on the door, and it shakes. One more good hit and the wood will splinter, and he will be in here.

  “I have a gun!” I yell, and he chuckles.