“It’s not true. Tell me it’s not true, Nate.”I should reprimand her for not calling me Uncle like I usually do, but this is neither the time nor the place.“Denial won’t help you. The sooner you accept reality, the faster you can deal with it.”“No.” She grits her teeth, then lets out another haunted, “No…”“Let go, Gwyneth.” I try to soften my tone, as much as I’m able to, but it still comes out firm. Like an order.She shakes her head again, but it’s meek, weak, just like she is beneath my touch. Until now, I’ve never noticed how small she actually is compared to me.How fragile.Actually, I did once. When she was pressed up against me with her lips on mine.But I shouldn’t be thinking about that. I shouldn’t be thinking about how small my best friend’s daughter is or how she feels in my hold when we’re in front of his hospital room.A muscle clenches in my jaw and I loosen my hold on her shoulders, starting to step away from her.I’m unprepared for what she does, though.Completel
NathanielGwyneth falls asleep.After so much struggle and standing for hours in front of Kingsley’s room, she lost the physical battle and slumped over on one of the chairs in the waiting area.I told her that she could go home, but she vehemently shook her head, pulled her knees to her chest, and closed her eyes.Which is why she’s about to fall forward.I place a finger on her forehead and push her back so she doesn’t hit the ground. It’s light contact, only a damn finger, and yet it feels as if my skin has caught fire and the flames are now extending to the rest of my body.In hindsight, I shouldn’t have let her hug me. Or I should’ve pushed her away sooner. Because now, even a mere touch brings back memories of her body pressed up against my chest.Her slender body that I can’t stop thinking about how small it is compared to mine.I clench my fist and close my eyes to chase away the haze. It doesn’t work. Because even though she’s out of view, her scent clings to me as stubbornly
“We’ll represent Gwyneth and keep things as they are.”“Even if you personally take the case, there’s no way Susan will come out of this empty-handed. Gwyneth can’t touch her inheritance or trust fund until she’s twenty-one. That’s a whole year for Susan to demand the house and shares of the firm. She’ll have a leg to stand on, too, since Kingsley made his father’s will null and void. Because he used his father’s money for Weaver & Shaw’s capital, she can sue for her husband’s shares that Kingsley inherited. Not to mention that she’ll be up against a girl who can’t touch her money yet. And before you suggest it, yes, we can stall in court, but considering all of Susan and Kingsley’s legal battles in the past, I say Gwyneth doesn’t stand a chance. She doesn’t have her father’s legal experience, revenge spirit, or ruthlessness. She’ll be eaten alive by Susan.”I want to disagree, but I can’t. Aspen is right. Kingsley’s lawsuits against Susan were fueled by pure spite. He hated her and w
GwynethWhen I was a kid, I had a problem learning words. I don’t know why. I have a high IQ, and I can figure out my way around things, but memorizing words was a bit difficult.The professionals my dad took me to thought I had some form of dyslexia, but it’s not like I couldn’t read or recognize words. It’s not that they all appeared the same. They just appeared alive.You know that feeling when you’re reading something and it nearly jumps off the page at you? For me, it was literal, and that’s exactly how it felt. As if the words were coming after me.Turns out, I didn’t have a problem with all the words. Just the negative ones. The words that make my skin itchy and my vision turn hazy. The words that I felt instead of only reading them.Anxietymade my skin crawl and my nose tingle.Cruelturned my cheeks hot and my body tight with the need to defend the one who was subjugated to it.Fearmade my teeth clench and my heart shrink in anticipation for what was to come.Saderased my smil
I can’t go back to the house we called ours and pick up nonexistent pieces of myself.How can I when everything in there bears witness to how well and hard he raised me and how much he sacrificed himself for me?I didn’t even consider moving out after high school. People my age want to get away from their parents, but I didn’t. It’s where home is.A sudden shiver jolts me upright when the jacket that’s been covering me falls down my arms and to my lap.My fingers trace the material and I’m surprised they don’t catch fire. It doesn’t matter that I don’t remember him putting it on me, or how I even ended up lying in the chair. The smell gives it away. A little bit spicy and woodsy with an undertone of musk, but it’s still strong and manly and so much like him.The man I hugged and whose chest I cried into.The man whose shirt I probably messed up.He didn’t touch me back, didn’t console me, but having him there, even immobile, was enough for me.He still had his body tight and rigid lik
NathanielNecessity.I’ve never liked that word. It’s because of necessity that my brother decided to leave the country, and that got him killed.It’s because of necessity that people vote for the likes of my father to represent them in spite of the fact that he only cares about himself.In a way, necessity is the root of all evil. Decisions based on it are a bit impulsive and almost always have dire consequences down the line. Ones that could be dangerous, lethal even.Of all people, I’m well aware of the dangerous repercussions of hasty actions. I never decide anything unless I have a 360-degree view of the entire situation as well as all of its possible results. This is the first time I’ve taken a step into territory that hasn’t been carefully plotted. It’s like walking through a minefield with a blindfold on.But just like earlier, I don’t think about the possible repercussions. I shove them to the back of my mind and focus on the now. On the present and its own sets of cause and
Her eyes spark in a myriad of blue, gray, and green. Bright fucking green that I thought wouldn’t make an appearance again after King’s accident.I hate the way she looks at me. I fucking loathe it.Because it’s not just a gaze, it’s not mere eye contact. It’s words and phrases I don’t want to decipher.I let her go and she staggers a little, as if she’s been floating on air and her feet are finally touching the ground. It’s where she’s supposed to always be—on the ground—not in the clouds she sometimes ascends to.But even though I’m not touching her anymore, she’s still touching a part of me. My jacket is held snugly to her chest as if it’s some sort of armor—one she won’t let go of.And I need to stop thinking about what that jacket is touching, because that’s just fucked up.“It’s not that I want to marry you.”A swallow, a clink of nails, a slight jump in her shoulders. I’ve always hated how expressive she is but that she can still hide more than she shows.“Then why did you say
Nathaniel“Do you have any fucking idea what you’re doing?”I sigh for the thousandth time today and face my nephew—the source of the unnecessary question.“He does,” Aspen tells him with her usual assertiveness.The three of us are standing near City Hall, ignoring the people buzzing around us, and focusing on the time. Or I’m probably the only one who’s having an unhealthy obsession with my watch.Gwyneth is twenty minutes late.Surely there’s a reason behind her tardiness. She’s never been the type who’s late to appointments. Or irresponsible.Though it’s true that getting married only five days after her father’s accident isn’t a normal situation, it’s not like we have time. The sooner she gives me power of attorney, the easier I can stop Susan’s moves. Because she’s plotting them as we speak. I made calls, talked to judges, and I know about the subpoenas her lawyer is trying to file. I can only ward her off for so long before I run out of options.Time isn’t on our side, which is
“It was my idea, but doesn’t mean it was easy. I don’t like to lose. Didn’t want to waste all those years I invested,” I say, and it’s like some miraculous masseuse worked out some tight kinks from my shoulders. Maybe that was why I didn’t leave sooner, or suggest we end sooner. Because I invested time, even if my emotions weren’t fully there. I thought they were at the time, but how easy is it to share a life together without… any spark?“I understand.”I frown. I appreciate her consoling, but I doubt she can pretend to know what I’m talking about. “You do? That’s hard to believe.”She sighs, and a dark expression crosses her face. “You don’t need to be condescending. Just because I’m younger than you doesn’t mean I don’t have the ability to put myself in someone else’s shoes.”“You’re right. Sorry. Listen, I like you.” I swallow, and feel a tight knot in my throat. Like doesn’t even come close to how she makes me feel. “More than like. A part of me though doesn’t want it to happen b
MaddoxA date.She said she wanted a date last night.I didn’t run from the challenge. It’s too late for that now, anyway. When I kissed her, when I held her in my arms and touched her drenching hot pussy… I knew there wasn’t anything I wasn’t willing to do to pursue her. To make her mine.This isn’t a feeling I welcome. Giving someone this immense amount of control over me, over my life, over my time, is terrifying. With her, though… there’s no other way. I like to think I made the decision myself, for my self-preservation to take a stand.Which brings me here.I cleared my scheduled for this—to be walking up to her in the entrance of Dallas Arboretum and Botanical Gardens, holding a picnic basket that not only I bought, but I filled with some goodies from a high-end grocery store. I don’t even know when the last time was I stepped into a grocery shop—my housekeeper takes care of all these errands for me. Still, as I picked every item, a sensation of fulfillment and strange domestici
WhitneyIt’slike the world beneath my high heels was swept off from under me.Maddox is surrounding me, claiming me, and I’ve slipped into his bubble of heat and glow. His tongue quickly makes it past my lips, and I grant him access, reveling in the sexy growl he produces. My nipples are rock hard, and a warm stir spreads through me, my blood rushing hot and thick in my veins.I encircle his head with my arms, loving this intimacy, this nearness.When he puts a leg in between mine, through the thin layer of my dress and the fabric of his pants, I feel his large cock, pulsating even. That only intensifies my own desire, and the second he slides his hand down my back and cups my ass, I tremble. I’ve never been this aroused in my entire life, and I know I could explode at any moment, under the slightest of touches, but I also don’t want to. I’m enjoying these exhilarating sensations too much to give them up.My pussy is soaking wet, and I’m afraid it’ll leave a stain on my dress. I’m not
Right now, I don’t know if I want to fuck her or bend her over my knee and spank her… which would lead to fucking. She’s unlocking a primal part of me I don’t let anyone access. I don’t trust that part, because it means I’d let my emotions dictate my actions—the opposite of what I like to do. One of the reasons my marriage ended.If my ex saw me like this, getting worked up over so little, she’d laugh at me.I am laughing at me, too.And probably Whitney is—because right now, even from her seat, she knows she has the upper hand, and I hate her for it. But I also want her—undeniably.When she surges to her feet and leaves the room, I do the same.I don’t know where she’s going, probably to the restroom, and it’s idiotic to follow her, but I can’t think straight anyway so I may as well do what I fucking want.Someone stops me to say hello, and she leaves the private room, alone. Good. At least that douche didn’t go after her.At last, I’m able to disengage from this endless small talk v
Maddox“How’s everyone doing?”the waitress asks, glancing around the long table.Been better, I say inwardly. But I manage to smile and go with the flow as the other fifteen people gush over the top notch service while sitting in this exclusive area of one of Dalla’s best steakhouses.It’s Charles’s birthday after all.I’m here as a friend, and for the past thirty minutes I’ve been sipping on red wine and glancing at the open double door. Every other guest has arrived, but not Whitney. Even Charles’s girlfriend, a nice brunette with a kind smile, has joined us.Maybe Whitney isn’t coming.That should fill me with relief, but somehow it does the opposite. It’s like an uncomfortable sensation is plaguing my body and will only go away when she shows up. The idea of course is laughable. She will increase my heart rate and make me question every decision I make.I take a long swig of wine.This is all wrong.“Maddox,” Grant, who’s been sitting across from me at the table, calls.Grant is o
Whitney“Are we ready?”my assistant Astrid asks.Astrid is a twenty-five year old girl from an itty bitty town in East Texas. Her given name is Jennifer, but when she moved to Dallas she re-invented herself as Astrid, a wisp of a woman with bright blue hair and an adorable sleeve of tattoos.“He should be here soon,” I say, looking at the only text I’ve exchanged with Maddox today.We’re in the hotel restaurant, which features new Italian cuisine and is beautifully decorated with long red velvet drapes, high-end hardwood flooring and intricate chairs and tables. The idea was to do a quick video to gain traction on my TikTok and Insta accounts, and of course tag Dallas Proper and increase their visibility online.“He must be a good friend of your dad’s,” Astrid says. “You had to bump that big client from this week’s three question post.”I touch my hair, which is sleeked back in an intentionally severe top knot. I’m also wearing a long sleeved black shirt with matching pants. I am the
Maddox“So,how was dinner with Whitney a few nights ago?” Charles asks me the second he strolls into my office. “I meant to ask but I’ve been busy with our new strategy to increase occupancy.”I rock back in my chair, inhaling. How was dinner a few nights ago? My pulse races.Your daughter suggested we fuck. And a part of me, most of me, really wanted to say yes.I bite the answer dangling at the tip of my tongue. “Was good. Whitney is smart and talented,” I say, trying to remind myself to see her as a simple employee.“She is,” Charles agrees, then sits in front of me. “She emailed me some ideas she exchanged with you, so I’m up to speed.”“Excellent.”“She said she’ll send her assistant to make a video of you for a post she’ll do about the new hotel ownership. A good way to start talking about Dallas Proper.”“Sure.” I vaguely remember her saying something about a three question post she makes every week, asking well-to-do and local celebrities some questions and posting the answers w
WhitneyThen prove it to me.I still can’t believe I said it.I’ve never been the hot seductive girl who oozes self-confidence and comes onto guys.But I know if I don’t get the idea in his head, I won’t get anywhere. Once my work is done, what other opportunity will I have? Also, I can tell he’s impressed by me. He needs me. I have a lot of pull and can make people start talking about this hotel, the club, the restaurant. Everything. He knows I can.Besides… a warm glow flutters through me as I remember what it felt like to touch his chest and feel his heart beating madly. For me.“How’s your drink?” he asks after taking a generous sip of his. “Weak?”I take a sip of my vodka soda. “No, not this one. They may have paid more attention because I’m with the big boss. Maybe when I was alone the bartender wasn’t as attentive. Which means he’s not that motivated.”“And you know that how?”“I was a bartender for a couple years. If the bar doesn’t get a lot of customers, you’re not getting e
She tilts her head to the side, watching me with her big eyes. Were they always like this? Were there always these intense rings of golden around her hazel irises? “Use him? You’ve donated to his campaign, haven’t you? Besides, if rumors of him cheating on his ex are true, he’s no saint. We won’t be spreading lies about him anyway. I work with other influencers and they’re not sleazy.”I do remember reading about Dan cheating on his ex. A saint he definitely is not, even though news doesn’t seem to focus on his extracurricular activities much. “Nice work.”“Thanks. That’s one of my ideas. I’m also thinking about inviting a few influencer friends over for lunch at your restaurant. They’re a close-knit group and meet every other week.”“And I’ll comp their get-together,” I say.She fishes out her phone and types on her digital calendar. “Yes. You catch on fast.”“I may be new to the hotel hospitality industry, but I’m not an idiot,” I say, hating how ridiculously defensive I sound. I’m