Indulgence (33 page)

I nodded. “Thanks.”

She turned to leave and then stopped at the threshold to the
door her back to me, head hung low. “I’m glad you’re here, Hank.” That simple
phrase was a start back on the right track.

“Me too, Angel.”

The last thing on earth I wanted to do was spend an entire
afternoon consoling Oliver after Hank’s outburst. He was worried that Hank had
a problem with gay men. That wasn’t the issue. It was clear after Ollie left
that Hank is possessive and old-fashioned. Something that you didn’t often find
in a man on this side of the country. Still, I could maim the man myself for
treating Oliver poorly.

Hank said he’d fix it and I have to believe he will. I told
Oliver that Hank wanted to talk to him about his behavior and apologize. Of
course, my Ollie wanted to pout and hell if he didn’t have the right. Instead,
my focus should have been on overseeing our very first photo shoot for Bright
Magazine—not dealing with a pissed off gay man with the undeniable power to use
guilt better than my holy-rolling Grandmother.

The photographer was a pill, but well known. He shot for all
the top fashion magazines and would skyrocket Bright right to the top … as long
as he was kept calm. That was my job—CEO and babysitter to needy, overconfident
snobs. I should take lessons from Ollie. He’d had to deal with me and my crap
for years. At least my upbringing gave me the tools needed to deal with men of
his caliber and pedigree.

Without much effort I had the photographer eating out of my
hand and following every task needed to complete the shoot in one day instead
of two.

My goal was a bit self-serving. If we completed the shoot,
I’d have the next day with Hank. How we would spend the day was open for
discussion, but I genuinely wanted to get to know him better. We both needed
some time to understand this connection between us. Time to figure out if it
was just physical, or something more.

Once we completed the shoot, I practically flew home. My
driver gave me a placating smile and sped through the streets of downtown New
York, narrowly missing a messenger that jetted out into traffic along the way.
With jittery nerves I finally made it home and set down my briefcase on the
side table. That’s when I heard a woman’s high-pitched giggle from down the
hall.

I was eager to see Hank—a truth I would only decipher
later—but the sound reminded me of a really bad day eight months ago. I had
decided to surprise Grant by canceling a meeting and stopping by his house
unexpectedly. I ended up catching Grant with one of his assistants, whom I
referred to as whore number two. His hands were wrapped around both sides of
her head as he jammed his tiny prick into her mouth.

It still hurt thinking about his deception, mostly because I
allowed him to cheat on me not once, but twice. Hank’s deep throaty laugh
floated down the hall breaking the fog of my past. The sound sent chills down
my spine.

I found Hank sitting on the bed, back against the headboard.
His shirt was off and the golden skin of his chest shone like a Greek god’s in
the amber lighting. A perky brunette in pink scrubs sat next to him holding a
bowl of popcorn. They were focused on the TV nestled in the armoire to the side
of the bed. Every so often Hank’s long, muscled forearm reached across the
space, gripping for some popcorn, his eyes still glued to the screen. He didn’t
see the look of admiration on the pretty woman’s face as his hand grazed her
thigh.

I did.

Her breath caught and her body stilled as her gaze gobbled
up Hank’s attributes. I cleared my throat. Two sets of eyes met mine. One dark
and dangerous, the other startled and uncertain.

“Evening, Stud.” My voice sounded husky even to my ears.

“Angel,” Hank said in that perfect Texan drawl. The one that
made me weak in the knees and lust coil deep within my belly.

The nurse jumped up, a few kernels of popcorn spilling over
the edge of the bowl. She scrambled to pick them up and toss them into the
garbage.

“Um, Miss Reynolds. I was just uh … ”

“Keeping Hank company?” I offered. Her eyes grew wide. She
knotted her fingers nervously.

“Come here, Darlin’.” His voice begged no argument.

I sauntered over, cat-like, toward the cowboy. His good arm
gripped my hip possessively. I relished his Neanderthal move. Letting the nurse
know he belonged to me was exactly my intent even if it was only for show. His
hand slid up to my waist and he pulled me into his lap. Our eyes locked. A
clattering of items hitting the desk and a shuffling of papers could be heard
from behind me signaling that the nurse was packing up her things for the day.

“How are you?” I licked my lips anticipating what he would
do next.

“Better, now that you’re here.”

I turned my head and caught the nurse’s red face. “You’re
dismissed,” I said.

“For good? I swear, Miss Reynolds, we didn’t … nothing
happened.”

I turned to Hank, his lips quirked at the edge.

“No, just for the evening. We’ll see you bright and early
tomorrow to change his bandages and prepare his therapy. That is all for
tonight.”

“Thank you,” she said and exited the room lighting fast.

I turned back to Hank and opened my mouth to say something
when his lips covered mine. Hank’s kiss was slow, sensual, exactly what I
needed after a rough day. My fingers skittered down his chest, feeling the
bunching and tightening of muscled pecks and strong abdominal muscles.

I pulled away to catch my breath. Hank’s lips went straight
to my neck; his teeth grazed the skin sending shocks of lust splintering
through me settling deep between my thighs. He swirled his tongue around a
particularly tender spot on my clavicle. I shuddered.

“Did the nurse take care of you?” I asked as his nose
nuzzled just behind my ear. I craned my neck to give him plenty of access to
the sensitive skin.

“Yes, I’m healthy as a horse.” His teeth nipped at my collar
bone and I closed my eyes. One large palm covered my neck. He made me feel so
small and fragile in his arms. His dexterous fingers dug into the tight flesh,
massaging the day’s knots away.

“Have you eaten dinner?”

He shook his head and nudged his nose into the crevice
between my breasts, as much as the dress would allow. “God, you smell so
fucking good. I could just eat you for dinner.” His right hand boldly cupped my
breast and squeezed. I pushed my aching flesh into his palm, needing more
friction.

“
Middag serveras
,” Gustav’s heavy Swedish accent
echoed down the hall.

“Dinner’s ready,” I tipped Hank’s face and sealed my lips
over his once more.

Hank gave me a few more wet smacks. No man had ever kissed
me the way Hank did. He put everything into each and every pull of his full
lips, each swipe of his perfect tongue. He made kissing feel like a new
experience, something to savor and relish.

“Pen! Pen where are you?”
Oh Jesus no.
Why is
everyone and everything preventing me from getting it on with this man? My
inner bitch pulled out her boxing gloves and got ready to take down the next
intruder.

“You sure have a lot of people in your personal space.
Doesn’t that get annoying?” Hank stroked my breast and let out a low chuckle,
his thumb swirling around my nipple in maddeningly accurate circles.

London strolled through the door and we both turned our
heads toward her.

She pointed a manicured finger at the both of us. “I knew
it!” She screamed with glee.

I closed my eyes and Hank shifted, placing a hand on each
hip as she entered. I was never going to live this down. The interrogation
wouldn’t end until she got blood.

She glided into the room smelling of cinnamon and looking
like she just walked off a Hawaiian Tropics calendar. Her hand jutted out
toward Hank. He smiled and shook hers. “I’m London Kelley. You must be the
hunk—I mean Hank.” She grinned at her own slip-up. My intuition told me she did
it on purpose.

Hank looked her up and down. “Damn, good genes in the Reynolds
family.”

I rolled my eyes.

“You’re the dark version of my angel here.” Hank clasped my
neck in a possessive maneuver my sister zeroed in on in two seconds flat.

“Angel?” London queried with a sly smile, her gaze falling
on the hand at my nape.

“London, what are you doing here?” A deep sigh slipped past
my lips.

“What? I can’t just pop by and see my sister?”

“No.” My glare was a large block of ice, and she fidgeted
under its weight.

“I wanted to meet your friend,” she announced boldly. “He
saved your life. I owe him a great deal.”

“Sweetie, you don’t owe me nothin’. I’m just glad I was in
the right place at the right time.” His hands caressed my hips, either to
solidify his point or just to touch me. The man liked to touch me. All the
time. I sure as hell wasn’t going to complain.

My sister melted into a pool of mush at Hank’s proclamation.
She was being taken over by the Southern charm. Easy to fall under. I was damn
near drowning in it after three days.

“
Middag serveras
!” Gustav shouted once more from down
the hall, sounding very irritated.

“Oh! Dinner. I’m starving. Can I stay?” London asked.

Thou shalt not throttle thy sister
was the mantra I
repeated over and over internally.

“Yes, of course you can.”

Hank pulled back the sheet and stood. His frame was enormous
and swallowed up the space. He had on plain black boxer shorts that hugged and
accentuated his hips and thighs’ mouthwatering proportions. Both London and I
were transfixed at the sight of his mostly naked body.

“Damn, Sis. You’re one lucky bitch.”

I stood there, biting my lip and nodding at the perfect
specimen that was Hank Jensen. He was all man, and I wanted to lick and suck on
every inch.

Hank grinned. “Why, thank you, I think?” he said as he
slipped into a pair of soft gray sweats. “Darlin’, do you think you could help
me with this here shirt?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“I’ll just tell Gustav I’m staying. Piss him off a little.
See you in the kitchen,” London said and left.

“Sure.” I squeezed my legs together as the raging lust that
diminished with my sister’s intrusion roared back to life. Staring at this
perfect man’s bare chest and sexy grin did all kinds of things to my lady bits.
Hank presented the shirt to me as I tried to get ahold of my hormones.

After a few fumbles and laughs we reapplied the sling and
got my shirt on. It was fun to watch Aspen try not to touch me during the
process. Every time her hands landed on an exposed part of my skin she’d jump
as if burned by a hot poker. I got what I wanted in the end, though. Before we
entered the kitchen, I had her little body pinned against the wall with my
mouth on hers, kissing the daylights out of her.

She rubbed at her kiss-swollen, reddened lips as we entered
the kitchen. I couldn’t wipe the shit-eating grin off my face. I loved making
this woman blush and right now she was three shades of pink. Her sister London
was a looker and had a matching knowing smile plastered across her face. She
looked exactly like Aspen, only with dark hair and skin. Same gray-blue eyes
and facial structure, too. Based on the flowing clothes and chipper personality
she seemed a lot more easygoing, more free-spirited than Aspen. Didn’t matter.

There was something special about Aspen that had me in a
full-body twist. ‘Sides her beauty, there was a little extra sparkle in her
eyes when I looked at her, something that drew me to her, made me ache to be
near her. Damn if I wasn’t going to figure it out.

Dinner was incredible. That gourmet chef of hers definitely
had talent in the kitchen. He served us some type of bird with a fancy glaze I
couldn’t pronounce, and an interesting side dish that looked like tiny little
balls.

“What’s this called again?” I pointed at the yellow balls.

Aspen smiled. “Couscous.”

“Say what?”

“It’s a rolled wheat type pasta,” London offered. “Do you
like it?”

“I do. Different.” I managed around a big bite of the stuff.

“So Hank, I want to thank you for saving my sister. Pen’s
important to me. Hell, she’s important to the world. I can’t believe you just
jumped in front of her like that. So brave.”

“Ah, it was nothin’ really. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
Aspen’s gaze held mine, burning with intensity. Her beauty was unexplainable.
Waiting to be with her was as if a ton of bricks was dropping onto my chest,
taking away my ability to breathe.

“Well, I’m glad you were there. So you’ll be staying with
Pen then?” She asked.

“That’s the plan. Seems as though her uptight lawyers are
worried I’m going to sue, so she’s holding me hostage.”

Aspen looked shocked. “That’s not true! I want you to have
the best care.” Her tone held a twinge of hurt.

“So she says,” I tried to joke. London gave a half-laugh but
focused her attention back and forth between us. I wasn’t sure what she was
doing.

London set down her fork and clasped her hands at her chin.
Her eyes, so similar to her sisters’, turned a shade darker and the edges
tightened a hair. “But you’re obviously into one another.” She held my gaze,
then focused on Aspen. “The tension in here is so thick I could cut it with a
knife.”

“London! None of your prophecies tonight,” Aspen warned.

“What? Anyone in a five-mile radius could sense how badly
you two need to get it on.”

I choked on my couscous and laughed. Her sister was as
straightforward as they came. “I’m liking you more and more, London. You’re
good people.”

She smiled sweetly. “Thank you.” Then she stood and
straightened her dress. “I can’t be in the room with you two anymore. It’s
making me hot and bothered. I’m going to go hang out with Tripp. Maybe see a
movie.”