His Forbidden Submissive (16 page)

“Wow, that’s a tough break, bro,” Brock lied, unable to keep the contempt from his voice anymore.

“That fucking bitch really screwed me over this time. Her and that pathetic little design business of hers wouldn’t be anything without me.”

Anger flashed under Brock’s collar, searing and unforgiving. No one—
no one
—called Viv a bitch in front of him and lived to regret the mistake. He took two instinctive steps toward his brother before reason stopped him. Maiming his brother wasn’t the answer.

But he had to admit it would be a pleasant start.

Brock sucked down a deep breath and manhandled his temper into submission. Better speed things along. Next time, he might not be able to rein in his hair-trigger temper.

“That sucks, man. I feel for ya. Losing Viv hurts.” And that was putting it mildly. “But it doesn’t explain why you’re here. I can count on one finger all the times you’ve showed up at my house unannounced on a Friday morning—and that includes today.”

“Morning. Shit, Brock, it’s after lunch. Did you just wake up or something?”

“No. I was…” His gaze flicked to the bottle of Jack on the coffee table. “Just wallowing.”

“Ahh. That explains the alcohol.”

Brock bit his lip. His big brother insulting him. That was just par for the course today. What was next? Spontaneous combustion?

Hell, at this point he welcomed it.

Brock finally lost the ability to play nice. “What the fuck are you doing here, Eugene? I’ve got more important things to do right now than play twenty questions with you.”

His brother’s eyes went wide, but to his credit, he didn’t scurry away like the mouse he was. “I need your help, Brock.”

Whoa. Eugene asking him for help? This was unprecedented.

Eugene’s gaze fell to the ground and he looked as if he’d rather chew broken glass than utter his next sentence. “Without Vivian, I don’t stand a chance to win that new executive suite contract.”

No, you don’t.
But he kept the thought to himself.

“I know my designs are strong. What can I say? I’m good. But I want an ace up my sleeve. I need something to boost my chances of winning the contract, which is why I’m here.”

Oh no he didn’t.

Brock’s hands fisted at his sides. He knew exactly where this conversation was headed. That fucking,
fucking
bastard. At every turn, Eugene had made a point to tell him how unworthy he was, how much of a disgrace he was to the field of architecture, but when in reality, his brother feared his talent.

“Let me guess…” Brock’s voice dripped with disdain. “You want me to drop out of the competition so you’ll have that much less competition?”

“No, no. Not drop out.” He pushed to his feet. “I want to form a temporary partnership. With my talent and your—I don’t know—way of thinking, I guess, we can’t lose.”

Unbelievable. Asking for help and insulting him in the same breath. Brock wouldn’t partner with this douche bag even if Eugene threatened to put Brock’s cock in a guillotine if he didn’t agree.

“As tempting an offer as that is,” Brock lied, “I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. I already have a partner for the McDonald gig.”

Incredulousness seized control of Eugene’s face, his entire body suddenly shaking with uncontrolled anger. “With.
Who?
”

* * * * *

Vivian pressed trembling hands against her mouth, her heart pounding about a mile a minute.

Oh no.

No.

No, no,
no
.

Eugene’s Mercedes sat in the curved driveway in front of Brock’s house. He’d finally tracked her down. It was the only explanation she could think of to explain his presence. Eugene didn’t come to his brother’s for chitchats.

Anne’s words came back to her.
Because at the moment, that man is
pissed
.

Was Eugene planning on dragging her back home, voluntarily or no? Or were his motives much darker than that? Had he learned about her and Brock?

Had he come for revenge?

“Oh god.” She slammed her idling Escalade into park and ran for the front door.
Please, god, let Brock be okay.
Her husband had always been more passive aggressive, but there was a first time for everything. And god knew she’d given him plenty to be angry about lately.

When she reached the house, she forced herself to stop and think. If she rang the doorbell or knocked, she’d give herself away, and if Brock was in trouble, an interruption might cause Eugene to panic. And if he panicked, Brock might get hurt.

Or the interruption might give Brock the upper hand.

Shit, shit, shit.

She stood frozen for a moment before checking the doorknob. Good. Unlocked.

She pushed the door open and crept inside. The immediate area was clear, but she didn’t have to go any farther before their voices froze her feet to the entryway floor.

“We can’t lose,” Eugene was saying.

She hugged the wall, creeping farther and farther inside. When she reached the living room, she peeked inside. Brock and Eugene stood face-to-face, and judging by the set of Brock’s mighty shoulders, their conversation wasn’t exactly friendly.

But at least he wasn’t injured.

“As tempting an offer as that is,” Brock said, “I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. I already have a partner for the McDonald gig.”

Even with apprehension coursing through her, Brock’s words warmed her. Despite the things she’d said, the fact she’d walked out on him—again—Brock was still her loyal defender, forever her champion.

Eugene’s voice sharpened to a razor’s edge. “With.
Who?
”

She didn’t give Brock a chance to answer. She stepped from her partial hiding spot and forced her shoulder back, spine erect, chin up. “With me, Eugene. Your brother signed a contract with me.”

Brock spun on his heel. The second their gazes met, he smiled. It looked as if a thousand lifetimes worth of turmoil had been lifted from his massive shoulders in a mere second. He took a step toward her—but immediately stopped and turned to Eugene as if unsure touching her in front of her husband was kosher.

She didn’t know either so she settled for flashing Brock a reassuring smile before facing her husband. In all the years she’d known Eugene, he’d never looked so enraged. It was odd. Despite everything he’d done to betray her trust, her love, she still felt raw and exposed standing before him, the man she’d sworn to love in sickness and in health, ’til death do them part—even if he’d taken their vows less seriously than she had.

Palpable rage radiated from him, wrapping around her throat like ethereal fingers until she could hardly breathe. “What the
hell
are you doing here?”

“That’s really none of your business,” she forced out.

“Like hell it’s not. I’m your goddamned husband.” He took a step toward her, but Brock mirrored the move, putting himself ever-so-discreetly between her and Eugene. No, not exactly between them, more like positioned himself so he could intercept Eugene if need be. The noble act gave her the strength to say what needed to be said.

“No, you’re not. Our divorce might not be official yet, but you lost the right to call yourself my husband when you fucked your first mistress.”

The color drained from her husband’s face, a perfect mixture of embarrassment and resentment deepened the red of his cheeks. Like he didn’t already know she knew. Had he actually taken the time to read her divorce petition? Multiple acts of infidelity was cited in the “causes” section.

“What is it, Eugene?” she asked. “Cat got your tongue?”

He recovered his ability to speak, spewing verbal venom right at her. “At least I didn’t sleep with your fucking sister.” He flapped a hand in Brock’s direction. “That’s a low blow for even a stupid bitch like—”

Brock exploded into the argument like a bull raging from a chute, getting up close and personal with his brother. “If you value your pathetic little life, you’d better stop that sentence right there.”

Eugene took three stumbling steps backward. The expression on his face exclaiming loud and clear,
Okay, okay, I’m backing off
.

And in that moment, love cascaded through her. Every question she’d pondered and fretted about on the drive over here was answered in pristine clarity. Without a doubt, without any hesitation, she loved Brock. She might spend the next fifty years of her life sick to her stomach because of their roller-coaster relationship, but she’d take every twist and drop with a smile so long as Brock was in the seat beside her.

She looped her arm through Brock’s. “I appreciate the support, sweetheart. I really do. But this is my fight. Let me deal with it.”

His eyes darted from her to Eugene and then back again before he finally nodded, although given the way his gaze loitered on his brother he wasn’t happy about stepping down from the role of Immediate Defender.

He stepped behind her, giving her the freedom to fight her own battle—something Eugene would have never allowed. “Face it, Eugene, our marriage is over, as is our business partnership.”

“Like hell it is. It’s over when I say it’s over.”

Viv ignored the not-so-veiled threat. “Please leave, Eugene, and if you have anything else to say to me, go through my attorney. Brock and I have nothing else to say to you.”

Eugene forced out a laugh so fake Viv cringed, although the chuckle didn’t make her cringe near as much as his next words. “You are such a stupid bitch. The only reason my holier-than-thou brother pretended to tolerate you while you were sick was because I paid him to.”

“
Offered
to pay,” Brock said before Eugene’s words really had a chance to sink in. “I didn’t take a goddamn penny from you.”

“Yes, Eugene, I know about your request,” Viv said with a bravado she didn’t quite feel. Brock hadn’t mentioned that last little tidbit but it didn’t matter. She knew Brock loved her, and she loved him. “Regardless of how Brock came into my life, he came into it. And he loved me when I needed it most, which is more than I can fucking say about you.” She pointed her index finger at her husband. “I’m done with you. For good. And if you don’t leave in the next five seconds, I won’t hesitate to call the cops and file a restraining order against you.”

“You fucking bitch.” Eugene lunged at her, his rage almost palpable, but Brock intercepted the advance. He clipped Eugene with a shoulder about as big as the Rocky Mountains. The collision was like watching a train hit a tiny Smart Car.

Eugene flew backward and smacked ass first against the hardwood floor, skittering across the room like a human hockey puck. Brock, on the other hand, was unfazed by the collision.

“I believe the woman told you to get out,
brother
.”

“Fuck you.” Eugene spat the words as he pushed back to his feet. “Fuck both of you.” He took a step toward Brock but immediately stopped. Smart move on his part. Eugene threatening his brother was about as intimidating as a mouse threatening a lion. “I swear I’ll make it my mission to take you both down.”

And with his last threat uttered, Eugene finally,
finally
made his exit, taking all her adrenaline-amped bravery with him. The second the door slammed shut—because what dramatic exit wasn’t complete without a slamming door—her knees gave out.

Holy Christ.

“Hey,” Brock murmured, wrapping her in his arms. “It’s okay. I’m here, love.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’m here.”

She held on to him for all she was worth. She didn’t deserve his comfort, let alone his love. “I’m so sorry, Brock,” she sobbed into his chest. “Sorry for exploding back into your life. For the things I said back in your office. For what Eugene said about ruining your career—”

“Shh.” He tilted her face for a quick brush of lips. “I have what really matters right here in my arms. Let Eugene take my career, take my clients. I don’t give a rat’s ass.” He tilted her face up for a quick brush of lips. “I don’t care. As long as I have you, everything else is just icing on the fucking cake.”

A fresh wave of tears warmed her cheeks, but Brock immediately brushed them away. So gentle, so intimate. God, it was such a Brock thing to do.

“I love you, Vivian Michaels. Nothing else matters more to me in this entire fucking world.”

She smiled through her tears. “I love you too, but I don’t know how much longer I can stay on this emotional roller coaster. Just promise me there will be no more lies, no more secrets between us. From here on out, we start fresh?”

His gorgeous eyes turned turbulent. “I’d like nothing more.”

“Same here.”

A triumphant smile turning his sexy lips, Brock crushed his mouth against hers. In an instant, his entire body enveloped her, lifted her, forced her back against the wall. His hands groped at her, roamed over her clothes. Then slipped beneath them.

She tightened her arms around his neck, practically climbing his body to kiss him harder. Desire coursed through her, sending a river of lust straight to her core. Her pussy hummed with a need only Brock could satisfy. Her Dom. Her…