Swirling the dark amber liquid in my glass, I headed over to the window and looked out over the city. My city. I fucking owned it, or at least I would.

I winced when I took a drink and the glass made contact with my busted lip. A drop of alcohol landed right on the cut, stinging like hell and adding insult to injury.

“Goddamnit!” I roared, and threw the glass against the closest wall. It shattered, coloring the white paint with sprays of whiskey while tiny shards of glass rained down onto the floor.

I swore under my breath and decided to leave it there for the cleaning crew, then turned back to the window.

What had gone down earlier was the result of poor planning on my part. I should’ve allowed myself a little more time with her. Not that he wouldn’t have wanted to kick my ass even if she had been a willing participant. It’s just that if that had been the case, his fist wouldn’t have packed quite as much punch. Wounded pride and a broken heart are a whole lot easier to deal with than a man with a superhero complex going on a Rambo rampage to defend his territory.

No matter—I still held all the power. Or at least I would before the night was through.

I didn’t have to fuck his girl to destroy him. I already had that in the bag with the reveal I was planning for the board meeting on Monday. But I did have a point to prove. How many times had I tried to make the dumb fuck understand that women were only out for one thing? Money. Plain and simple. Gold-digging whores, each and every one of them.

Okay, maybe there was another thing they were out for as well: dick. They liked that shit, too.

When we were a couple of young punks, I’d tried to drill my theory on bitches into his thick skull, mostly because I wanted him to be available to hang with me on the weekends, or just whenever I needed a sidekick, but I believed what I said to be true. I’d seen my father change wives almost as often as he got a haircut. And every one of them left owning a little piece of his fortune—a fortune that should’ve rightfully belonged to me.

When we became adults, it was even more important for my partner to focus. I needed Crawford’s head in the game if we were going to make our fathers’ company soar to heights the old men couldn’t even imagine. If he was all googly-eyed over a woman, a fucking cunt, he’d be too distracted to put his best foot forward, and I wasn’t talking about the one attached to his third leg, either.

Chasing tail for the sake of getting laid was one thing. Allowing yourself to be pussy-whipped was something else entirely.

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Crawford hadn’t listened to me. Fresh out of college when his parents died, he had inherited his half of the company and had a gorgeous woman on his arm, and I was all but forgotten. And not just by my supposed best friend. My father had looked at Noah with so much pride and adoration it was almost palpable.

He’d never looked at me that way.

Noah Crawford was a rising star, had everything I didn’t, and I was tired of living in his goddamn shadow.

Why can’t you be more like Noah, David? My father’s voice rang in my ears, a constant reminder that I would never live up to his expectations. I made mistakes; I was young, and I liked to party. But those mistakes were unacceptable to him.

My old man was weak, in my opinion. He shared his company with those fucking Crawfords when he could’ve claimed all of Scarlet Lotus’s success for his own. The goody-goody Crawfords and their Let’s donate a sizable portion of our profits to charities, give back to the community, do something good with the blessings that have been bestowed upon us.

Pfft. Those weren’t blessings. It was hard work, my father’s blood, sweat, and tears. But he never saw it that way. Truthfully, I think he was secretly in love with Elizabeth Crawford. I had seen the way his face lit up whenever she walked into the room. The bitch had him wrapped around her little pinky, and he’d have done anything she asked of him even though he could never have her.

Which just proved my point about the effect women have on men. And my dad wasn’t even hittin’ that.

Speaking of hittin’ that … I had a date.

I opened another button on my shirt, showing more of my bronzed chest of iron—because that was the way I liked it—and then I grabbed my keys. It was getting late. Scott would be closing up shop soon, and he would be waiting for me with a fantastic piece of ass and a fuckload of pixie dust. Damn, but I needed a hit of that. Both of them.

And then afterward I was going to borrow that little nugget of gold I knew he was storing in his office. It was nothing but paper and ink to him, but for me, it was the future of Stone Enterprises.

Lanie

Warm water surrounded our naked bodies as we lounged in the outrageously massive bathtub. Noah’s strong arms encased me and I closed my eyes to experience the sensation of the loofah he moved gently over my exposed breasts. My nipples had been in a constant state of arousal since I set foot in that house.

Funny, I had wanted to hate him so much back then. And there I was, hopelessly in love with the man who had purchased me with the sole purpose of having his wicked way with me whenever, wherever, and however he wanted.

The saying was true: sometimes it’s when we stop looking for love that love finds us. And usually it’s the person we least suspect who manages to lasso our heart and turn us inside out.

The Cooch was all for being turned inside out by the Wonder Peen at the moment. Or, for that matter, upside down and round and round. Insatiable hussy.

As if hearing her plea, Noah’s free hand wandered down my side and over my abdomen until his long, thick fingers could delve between the swollen folds at the apex of my thighs to give her a proper greeting. His deliciously scented breath ghosted over my neck before it was replaced by his hot, wet mouth.

Noah’s tongue was sinfully talented, his lips gifted with the ability to put all my senses on high alert. His teeth scraped my skin teasingly and I lifted my arm to wrap it around his neck. The loofah tumbled from his hand and he cupped my breast, his fingers gently rolling and tugging at the nipple. I could feel his hardness pressed to my lower back while the fingers between my legs explored every nerve ending within his reach. The delicious pressure of his lips, tongue, and teeth against the crook of my neck joined forces with the soft moans at my ear and drove me mad with need.

“Noah.” My voice was more like a breathless plea.

He never faltered with his manipulations. “Tell me what you want, kitten.”

The Cooch pulled out pen and paper and started making a list, but I ignored her. There would be so much more time for all the ways she could find for him to worship her later. I wanted to do something for him.




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