“Let’s forget the bullshit, even if it’s for a few hours.” I longed to spread her thighs, but the decision to be mine for the night had to be hers.
“That won’t solve a thing,” she said uncertainly.
“Stress relief.” I flexed my hands on my legs. “Tell me you don’t need it. Tell me I can’t do that for you.”
“I have my own methods,” she said.
“Mine are better.” She swallowed thickly and reached for the bottle of whiskey. “Hold it in your mouth.”
Her cheeks puffed, full of liquor, as she obeyed. I inched closer. “Some mistakes are best repeated.”
I closed my mouth on hers and swallowed the liquid she spilled inside. Her hands flew to my hair, tugging until there was a bite of pain in my scalp.
Mulaney straddled me, raking her nails through my hair. She tasted of whiskey when her lips met mine. I gave in to her, banding my arms around her back. Her tongue collided with mine, and everything that had happened since the morning I woke up alone after our wedding disappeared.
This was us.
Heartbreaker had her way with my mouth. If she kept pulling on my hair like that, I was bound to lose any remaining semblance of control.
I captured her wrists and lowered her arms. She ripped her lips away from mine, a pout forming.
“We do this my way or not at all.” She attempted to climb off me, a lusty anger staring back at me.
“Stop.”
In defiance, she ground against my erection. I hissed inwardly, unwilling to give her the reaction she wanted. Slowly, I lifted her bound hands and ran her fingers over my lips. “Here.”
Her nostrils flared, but she bent toward me, chastely kissing me.
“I very much love that mouth on mine, but I meant your pussy.”
The heat in her eyes intensified. This was as still as I’d ever seen her.
She didn’t move, an internal war raging in her eyes. “Heartbreaker, this isn’t about who’s the boss. I want to make you come. You decide if that happens or not, plain and simple.”
“I can’t get my pants off if you’re holding my wrists,” she grated out. She tried to pull out of my grasp, but I held her firm. Lines creased her forehead as her frustration built.
She lifted onto her knees and thrust her center in my face. I smiled into her sweatpants where she couldn’t see.
When I looked up at her, I’d composed myself. “Take off your shirt.”
I released her wrists. She immediately yanked the cotton off her body, tossing it to the floor. I planted a palm on her stomach and spread my fingers, running my hand up her sternum. Her head fell back as if my touch was the balm she’d been seeking.
I shoved her sweatpants down as far as they would go. I traced the top of her underwear, and she shuddered. She moved her center back to my mouth, the only thing separating us the thin fabric.
I ran my tongue up her slit. Her hands landed on top of my head and squeezed. I held her against my mouth, kissing and sucking until she was unable to keep still. Her gaze was on me, her face the picture of pleasure. Because she’d surrendered to me.
“Easton,” she breathed when I nipped at her clit, the lace an added friction against the sensitive spot.
“Watch me make you come.”
And then she opened her beautiful eyes, and I was spellbound. She’s glorious.
There was the look I lived for. Fire. All of that intensity was directed at me.
I hooked the edge of her underwear and slowly dragged it out of my way, revealing her smooth skin. As I laid kisses around the swollen flesh, my focus remained on her face. When I slipped my tongue inside her, her lips parted.
Her taste was perfection. I ate at her like a man starved. I was.
As her pleasure built, more of her weight shifted to me. When I sent her into oblivion, her gaze remained locked on mine until the potency of what was between us became too much.
She sagged against me. I righted her underwear and shed her sweatpants before I carried her to the bottom bunk. Once I settled her under the covers, I quickly undressed and slid in next to her.
I hauled her to me, her body hot against mine as she tangled our legs together.
“You didn’t . . .” she mumbled into my chest, running her hand sleepily over my erection.
“Shh.” I threaded my fingers with hers and kissed her forehead.
In minutes, her soft snores had me pulling her closer. This was the first time I felt like I’d taken a full breath since the last time she fell asleep in my arms. We’d been fighting like hell against each other, but she’d renewed my determination to keep her. This was where we were meant to be, and as soon as I woke up next to her in the morning, I’d tell her as much.
I rolled over and pulled something soft against me. I squeezed and frowned. Opening my eyes was a repeat of a nightmare I couldn’t escape. I punched the throw pillow in my arms where Mulaney should have been.
Fuck.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Mulaney
I wandered around the streets of the city until one person turned into thousands. I didn’t like fighting with Easton, I hated how easily I surrendered to him even more. How right it felt waking up with him.
I refused to let myself mourn the wasted nights we’d been apart, because there was a whole lifetime of them ahead. Wedding chapels, whiskey, vows, intimacy, children, arguments all flitted through my racing mind until I couldn’t stand it any longer.
I shoved into a coffee shop and found an empty place in a quiet corner to sit. Outside the window, people moved on with their lives as if nothing was different about this day, when to me, the grip I had on my life had slipped to the point of no control.
“Hide the Wine” by Carly Pearce came on, and I groaned. Why was country music playing in a New York City coffee shop? And it was more like “hide the whiskey” so things like last night didn’t happen again, though I couldn’t blame it on the alcohol. It was all Easton and the undeniable pull I felt toward him.
I blocked out the song. Work. I could focus on that as long as I didn’t think about Easton.
Inside my bag, my hand landed on a slick paper instead of my phone.
Don’t do it.
When had I ever listened to solid advice? I pulled out the Christmas gift I’d ignored for over a week and set it on the table, staring at it as if it might explode.
Then I tugged on the ribbon and ripped the paper. Inside the box were some familiar poker chips, a miniature bottle of whiskey, a red ribbon, and a diamond ring. It was cushion cut, with a ring of rubies surrounding the center stone and an outer ring of diamonds framing the rubies. The band was lined with diamonds. Oh my God. It was the most exquisite piece of jewelry I’d ever laid eyes on. The rubies were a symbol of our makeshift silk wedding bands. I swallowed hard as my throat got thick. They had meant as much to him as they had to me.
I slipped the red circle of ribbon on my finger. It was too large, but I couldn’t bring myself to adjust the size. This was his wedding band, all we’d had when we spoke our vows. I carried mine everywhere, yet kept it out of sight unable to face the possibilities it brought.
The ring made of metal and stones terrified me. It wasn’t some thoughtless piece of jewelry given by a man who only wanted my eggs. The husband who designed the ring had forever in his head and nothing less.
I folded my arms on the table and dropped my head onto them. This hamster wheel had no exit point. I was back where I started, pretty damn sure I was married to a man who didn’t really want to let me go despite his proposition.
The thought of his stupid deal made me want to punch something, namely him. So what if I didn’t want kids? I sure as hell wasn’t going to let him go off and raise my blood by himself. He’d lost his mind if he thought for one second I’d let a surrogate bring our children into this world when I was perfectly capable of doing it myself. If I couldn’t, it would be another story, but as it stood, he wasn’t getting a baby from me through a clinic, even if it did mean
he’d sign the annulment papers.
Or we could do it the old-fashioned way.
I groaned. When did that become the most appealing option? I could give him some of my eggs and be rid of him, but no way would Mulaney Jacobs ever take the easy way.
Because you don’t want to be rid of him.
“Shut up.” I banged my forehead against my arms. Now I was talking to myself.
You know it’s true.
“Doesn’t matter if it is or not,” I said into the table.
Stop running.
“Go to hell.”
“Is there someone under the table I can’t see?”
I bolted upright, nearly knocking over my coffee.
“Aren’t you supposed to be spending time with your sister?” I asked.
Carlos casually took a sip of his coffee before he kicked out the chair across from me and sat.
“Business.” He shook his phone and placed it on the table. “Should I be offended I didn’t get an invitation to the wedding?”
I flipped him the bird. He snatched the wedding ring from the box and held it up to the light.
“Give me that.” I reached for the jewelry, but he kept it unattainable.
“This is impressive.” His Spanish accent grew more pronounced as he spoke. I swiped for the ring again to no avail. “Who were you telling to go to hell?”
I tapped my foot. “Myself,” I reluctantly admitted.
“Strange that not a single person in this coffee shop looked twice at you talking to yourself.” The mischief in his dark eyes was almost enough to make me smile. Almost.
“Back home, somebody would’ve organized an intervention.”
He examined the ring again. “This is a statement. Bold.” Carlos stared at me with a penetrating gaze. “It fits you.”
“I haven’t tried it on yet.”
“I meant your personality.” He placed it back in the box, and I put the lid on it before he rifled through the rest of the stuff.
“Nobody has ever described me as elegant.”
“I’ve never met anyone who could pull off a ruby wedding band. That takes guts.”
“Of all the coffee shops,” I said to the ceiling.
“Would you like to talk about it to an unbiased party?” He nudged my coffee cup toward me.
I slugged some down. “Nope.”
“He seems like a nice guy.”
“I said I don’t want to talk about him.”
He leaned back in his chair. “I’d like to.”
“Worry about your own love life.”
A hardness shadowed his features. “There is no place for love in my life.”
“Didn’t think there was in mine either,” I muttered.
“Do you plan to hide out in this coffee shop forever?”
“I needed some space to think.”
He sipped his coffee and appeared dissatisfied with the taste. “That should be easier now that my sister’s home is much less crowded.”
I drew my brows together. “How so?”
“Your family went back to Texas.”
I bolted to my feet. “When?”
He checked his watch. “About an hour ago. They waited as long as they could for you, but Miss Ruby said something about Sissy missing her coffee.”
Shit. I’d been so absorbed in my own problems I’d missed the chance to see my family off.
“That cow is the most spoiled animal on the farm.” I shoved the gift from Easton back into my purse.
“You should put it on.” Carlos flicked his head toward my bag. “An anchor makes it harder to run.”
I slung the straps on my shoulder. “Mind your own business.”
He caught my arm as I passed. “When you’ve been surrounded by people you love all your life it’s easy to take them for granted. But when they’re gone, they don’t come back.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Easton
“I wondered if I should call a search party when you didn’t come home.”
Drew kicked his feet up on the coffee table of our parents’ hotel suite.
“I should have,” I said, hanging up my coat.
“You should’ve talked to me before getting tangled up with her.”
I stilled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I could’ve kept you from making that mistake.”
If one more person called our marriage a mistake, I wouldn’t be held responsible for what I did. I’d told Mulaney some mistakes were meant to be repeated, but mistake was her word, not mine.
I didn’t care to hear my brother’s view of my love life so I quickly changed the conversation. “Where’s Mom and Dad?”
“Just left to go to a doctor’s appointment. I tried to go with them, but they insisted I not go.”
“Is she feeling okay?” Worry rose above my irritation.
“Seemed fine. They were awfully whispery.” He shrugged. “I told them I’d hang around until they got back.”
“In other words, you’d take the opportunity to snoop.”
He pointed a finger gun at me and made a shooting noise. “Already found something interesting.”
I braced on the back of the sofa and glanced at his laptop screen. “Is that—”
“Their bank account with a giant hole in it,” he finished.
“I just put fifty grand in there,” I said, clearly seeing the deposit on the ledger. Above it were five withdrawals in increments just below ten thousand.
“See what I mean? Giant hole.”
“The pending withdrawals will overdraft them.” A slew of pending transactions ended with a negative account balance beside the electric bill.
I opened the banking app on my phone and transferred another fifty thousand.
“Damn. Remind me if I ever need a quick fifty G to call you.”
The transaction appeared on the refreshed webpage, but I wasn’t sure it would hit before all the withdrawals.
“You should’ve done something about this,” I said.
“I just found out about three seconds before you got here.” He scowled. “Don’t take out your marital problems on me.”
“I don’t have marital problems,” I growled, tugging on the collar of my sweater.
“Oh no? Then why is your wife getting a text from one Rodrigo Suarez at four in the morning?” he challenged.
“How should I know?” Was nine in the morning too early for the hard stuff? Because the longer my brother kept talking, the more I needed something to steady my skyrocketing temper.
“You should’ve been in bed with her.” He shuddered. “I don’t want to think about that.”
“Is there a point to this?”
“You need to get your dick checked.”
To hell with what time it was. I stalked over to the bar and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I did a few months ago.” I tossed back a healthy swallow of the liquid fire.
“Do it again.”
“I appreciate your concern over my health—”
“He’s a male whore.”
I slammed the glass on the marble countertop. “That doesn’t mean Mulaney’s fucked him,” I shouted.
“Does ‘I miss you’ sound like they haven’t fucked?”
“Why are you reading her texts? How are you reading her texts?” I tightened my grip on the tumbler, itching to hurl it. I’d had enough of Drew’s unfounded accusations against Mulaney. Warning bells went off in my head. If anyone was acting duplicitous, it was him.
“She stole money from our family company. Seemed likely there’d be some evidence on her phone,” he said, far too rationally for my liking.
“She didn’t take the money.” I knew she didn’t, even with all the things stacked against her. Instead of digging further into the mess last night, I’d believed we could start to solve our problems in the sack, a serious error in judgment on my part.
“We don’t know she didn’t.” He joined me by the bar and pr
ied the glass out of my hand, pouring another round. Instead of offering it to me, he drained it himself. “She opened some of those offshore accounts after you got married, so technically they’re yours too.”
“Mulaney didn’t open them. She thought I did, but I didn’t know anything about them.”
He offered me the bottle. “I wasn’t insinuating you did. But you’d have access to them since you’re married, right?”
“I don’t give a damn,” I shouted. “She didn’t take the money. She isn’t fucking prostitutes or Dad.” I nearly choked on the last words. The thought of them, that I’d even let Drew tell me that garbage, made me nauseated.
He held up both hands in surrender. “If you say so.”
I slammed the bottle on the bar and got in his face. “Not another word.”
And before I did something I’d regret besides listening to him, I stormed out.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Mulaney
“I just saw you yesterday.”
I grinned as I answered my phone.
“It’s Grandmama.” Mitch’s voice broke. “She fell out in the yard.”
I straightened, shuffling some papers on Holly’s desk to mask the fear that streaked through me. “Did she break something?”
“No.”
“That’s good. I bet she’s pissed as all hell.” I relaxed a fraction, picturing her fussing at everybody.
He cleared his throat. “She’s been life-flighted to Austin. We just got to the hospital.” There was a long pause. “She’s unconscious.”
“What do you mean she’s unconscious?” I yelled, grabbing my bag and heading for the door.
“Thank God Granddaddy wasn’t too far behind her. He found her. She’s breathing, but—”
“But what?”
“We don’t know anything yet,” he said, sounding as defeated as I’d ever heard. “It don’t look good, Mulaney.”
“I’m on my way.” I ran to the elevator, catching the doors just before they snapped shut.
“Will you tell Stone?” An announcement crackled in the background, paging a doctor, and the reality that Ruby was in the hospital set in.
Heartbreaker: A Workplace Friends-To-Lovers Romance (Paths To Love Book 3) Page 20