Wait for Me (9 page)

Gripping her bare ass, he pumped his hips three times, her heat exploding around him sending him clutching, grasping, them clinging to one another.

When their breathing returned to normal, Kenya sprawled back over the cold stone table. Jonathan kissed the thudding pulse in her neck, eased from her swollen well-worn body to pulling up his pants.

Slipping into the other room grasping a white towel from the tasting shelf, turned, and took in the view of Kenya. Studied her well-sated body spilled over the counter his pride swelled knowing he did that to her, gently he carefully cleaned the slick juices on her thighs.

“Tell me again how you’re not seducing me, Blakemore,” her voice a weak resemblance of her normally sexy tone.

“What did Gran say to you in the other room?” he asked hesitantly, kissing her face holding her to his chest. Kenya angled up on her elbows, back crooked over the table. “Come on.” Soft grunts echoed the air as she fell into his arms, him helping her to her feet. 

“Your Gran told me she wanted an Irish girl for her grandson.”

His body tightened. “You said?”

Kenya shrugged, “Some wants go unfulfilled.” Jonathan burst out laughing hugging Kenya to his body. This was his woman no matter what she felt she was his. “No disrespect, but all the Irish women I’m certain you know you’d be with her and not here with me.”

“Are you mine, Kenya?” he asked, smoothing a hand over her hair back.

“The real question is, whether or not there’s enough of you to go around?” She shoved at his chest. “Can we go see the river before I find my dress flipped over my head and my behind bare to the air?”

“That’s a beautiful visual you placed in my head.” Locking the door behind them, he led her up the stairs. “Move it woman, before I take you on the steps.”

Kenya stumbled behind his words, her heels clicking over the stone steps echoing off the walls.

“You’d have sex on these old cold stone stairs?” Kenya’s brows arched something else he found sexy about his woman. “Jonathan!”

He hit the lock, sealing the room. “I took you in the window in my office, what’s some cold stairs?”

“Good Lord, you’re gonna kill me with that libido of yours. Open the door, Blakemore.” 

She’d be the one to kill him. He couldn't get enough of her. “I’ll allow you recovery time before I need to be sated. Just remember I told you to plan on lots of sex from me back in the penthouse. Believe what I tell you, Kenya. I don’t talk just to hear my voice.”

She held a hand up, warding off him prowling any closer. “I’m gonna be walking with a limp soon.”

He slipped his arms around her waist, brushed his mouth along her earlobe, and whispered, “You already do, baby…its sweet.”

“You did this,” she uttered and he kissed her face, knowing he’d become addicted to the spicy salacious scent of her sated body. Found he craved her the moment he slipped from the glove of her heat.

Moving in tight behind her, he slipped his hand over her flat stomach, breathed in her sweet scent as he held her to his chest. “When you leave in two days without me, I want every step you take to flood your body with a wet reminder of who this body belongs to.” He stroked his hand over her warm center between her thighs. Kenya moaned covering his fingers flexing over her tender sex. “You’re so swollen,” he gingerly smoothed her dress letting his hand follow the line of her waist holding her to him. “I’ll make it better. There’s a private pool on the family wing of the castle. Care to swim later?”

Kenya said, “What time is the shareholder’s meeting tonight?”

“Seven, it’s informal. I’ll join you for a late dinner then we can swim.”

“Maybe tomorrow. I wanna work on the farmers’ accounts. If there’s someone you want me to work with, I can get started right away.”

“Anxious to get started,” he acknowledged with a fissure of suspicion. Something he tried to curb around his woman, but it had become a learned reaction to people offering to help. “I thought you’d want to see more of the grounds first.”

“I did but what you showed me in the vault has me concerned. There’s a tremendous amount of heritage at stake and I’d hate to see it stolen away from your family. Have you done inventory of the vault? Does Graham have access to that room?”

“Hmm…” he groaned.

“What?” She tilted her face in consternation.

“You bring up a good point, I’ll check the records.” Why hadn’t he thought to check his collection? He’d come back after the meeting tonight with Jamie and verify the numbers. “It’s getting late, let’s go,” he said.

Chapter Five

Brian Blakemore scuffed his booted foot in the dry dying grass on the low rise off the hill. He slipped his hand inside the tough leather glove, waiting for his falcon to return. Tipping a glance over his shoulder, he eyed the new woman at his back. Raising her hand from his chest he licked his tongue between her fingers, sucking one into his mouth. Brian felt her hand slide over his groin gripping him through his pants.

Morgan stepped from behind Brian, slipped on a glove then extended her arm as the bird of prey swooped in landing on her leather-clad arm. Brian eased the bird onto his arm. Placing him on the perch, he tied the lead to the bird’s leg before replacing the falcon’s leather cap.

As the handler stepped up and took the bird away, he spoke to the woman in his arms. “Time is running out. I had to change plans.”

“Did she keep the money?” his guest asked coldly.

“Sent it back,” he said.

“And you let her come out here? She'll screw this up. I just know it.” He tensed at her accusing tone, clutching a hand to her chin.

He shook his head, getting close to her face. Obviously, she had no clue who she truly coveted. “Never, ever raise your voice in my presence. You’re here for one reason. I decide every move you make. You’ll do what I tell you and never question me again. There is no return flight for you.”

Morgan tensed. “You don’t know her the way I do.” The woman touched his hand on her face and he crushed a bruising kiss down over her mouth, taking her anger away. “I’ve waited a long time for this day. Sorry…it’s time she learned what real loss felt like.”

“Everything will work according to plan. Let me worry about Kenya. You have our agreement to work on.” 

Flexing his fingers in the soft flesh of her hips, her unexpected moan made him hard. They’d work on their plans once he’s gotten her back to the cabin. 

He added, “Your sister surprised me, Morgan, by breaking up with Jonathan, but still coming out here with him. I need to see what she’s up to. If she’s just keeping his bed warm, it’ll give me time to execute my other plan. ”

“Plan…what other plan?” she asked, eyes large in the afternoon’s waning daylight. He held her stare, weighing how much to tell her of their plan. He could see from the moment he met her, Morgan held venom in her heart for her sister like a bottle of cherished aged whiskey. Every day it got stronger. However, tonight he needed her to play by his rules instead of her anger. 

“Always have a back-up plan,” he warned caustically. A contingency plan held as much importance as the plan itself.

The woman at his back said, “She never defies me when I show my disgust in her actions. Guess I wasn’t convincing enough.”

“What about her friend back in the States, Julia? How close are they?” he questioned. After the report of Kenya and Jonathan storming out the restaurant, Brian knew his son would protect his woman.

“I’ve only met Julia once, but she’s a close friend. She might grab Kenya’s attention if she thinks she’s hurt, but Julia is not gullible like Kenya. It’ll take more time to get to her and time we don’t have." She ranted. “My sister is gullible. Your son picked the right one to lead around with his erection. She thinks a man will never get tired of her naïve, shy girl act.”

Brian tilted a gaze to the woman to his side. Her animosity flared. People with this level of jealousy become explosive at the wrong time, making any situation worse. He needed to calm her down, take her edge off. Eyeing her through the tight jeans, he knew where he wanted to start. 

“If you cross me, Morgan,” he threatened, “it will be the last thing you ever do.”

Morgan blinked and Brian knew his threat hit home. “My sister thinks she knows so much about everything. Everyone’s catered to her most of her life and I think it’s time she learned a real lesson. Once your son gets tired of her and sends her back to America, she’ll thank me for stopping her. I can assure you she couldn't handle Blakemore estates."

Dry grass crunching underfoot announced they weren’t alone. Brian turned toward the sounds emerging from the thick woods. The woman approached, head low under a dark burgundy hoodie, and his niece’s thundering strides. Assured and proud even with her head down.

“Niece, tell me something useful,” Brian said, closing his body around Morgan Claiborne standing at his side. Brian cupped her tight ass, ready for a long night. He was anxious to get her back into his cabin, strip the jeans from her luscious dark skin and ride her until the morning. Morgan’s hands slid around his waist, her face close to his chest.

Fiona folded her arms under her breast. The tan riding pants glowed against the dark brown riding boots. His brother’s daughter held the same spitting image of Calder, fire. If she’s been riding, things weren't going as planned.

“He’s so stupid when your sister’s around, Morgan. What is the hold she has on my cousin?” she bit out arms flailing through the air. Brian watched his niece’s fire burn in her face.

“Let him remain distracted,” Brian offered. “Ms. Kenya has her warning and I don’t make them lightly. The pilot says her scheduled flight home is in two days. If Jonathan hasn’t merged the land to Blakemore by then, I’ll have to show him what a true Blakemore male is capable of doing when faced with his property being taken away.”

“Uncle, it’s not Jonathan. It’s her sister,” she said, nodding toward Morgan. “Aunt Sophie will never move back to the estate. She has a life out there. Her mother is happy there.”

Brian peered down into the dark eyes staring up at him through long black lashes. "What do you know, Morgan?” 

“Fiona makes sense. I’ve never met Sophie, but if she wanted this land, you being here shouldn’t have stopped her from checking on the property. This is about Jonathan and my sister. I saw the way he protects her when we were at the club. He'll turn her loose once he finds out how inexperienced she is. Never goes out, talks about her little irrelevant job all the time. There's a good man in her building. He's Nigerian and will do anything for her, even offered to take her back to his home a few times. Would she listen to me and go for him? No. She doesn't know what she wants.”

Brian caught a slight jerk from Fiona. What had he just missed? "Randall, I met him after my last visit with Jonathan."

Fiona rubbed her throat and Brian didn’t miss his niece’s eyes dancing at the mention of the man. He'd talk to her later. Obviously she hadn’t wanted to share it with him in front of Morgan.

Angling away, he stroked a hand down Morgan’s deep, chocolate face. “You will be compensated for everything you’ve done for me. This is my family home. It should be signed over to me, not my son. Such an insult.”

“What about Grandfather,” Fiona asked, brows pinched tight, “He still has to sign it over to you.”

He paused, ran a finger across the tear drop birthmark decorating Morgan’s collarbone, stroking it back and forth. Soft shudders pebbled her skin under his stare. “Not if he’s dead.” He angled a quick glare to Fiona, pulling the hood from her head, big blue eyes wide. “Surprised, Fiona? This is my family home, Sophie wants to live in the States then she won’t have a say in this estate. Lucas needs to sign it over in front of the family, not just Jonathan.”

“You’d kill your own father?” Morgan accused, eyes alert in the dim lighting.

“You’re smart enough to not ask that question,” Brian said.

Turning at the sounds coming over the dry lawn, he recognized two of his men crossing the berm, weapons bulging under sweaters and coats. Tension stilled Morgan in his arms.

"Okay to speak in front of yer woman, Brian?"

Brian slip a hand under Morgan's face lifted her head until he knew her neck hurt. "If nae, aye, she'll turn up on your list of things to get rid of." He kissed her hard, a hand around the back of her neck holding her to him. She returned his fire. He liked the passion.

"I have no reason to dime you out, Brian."

Brian tapped Morgan's tight butt and then rubbed a hand down her curvy hip. He liked the fight he saw in her and decided to tweak his plans for her and make Morgan a part of the final show. The day he finally sat as the lord of Castle Blakemore and put the family name on the map the way it should have been years ago when they shut down the gambling. He smacked her behind a second time, before moving his attention to Aiden. "That's good enough for me. Good enough for you, Aiden?"

Aiden's attention slid down Morgan's body to Brian's hand on her behind. The man gave a dark grin. "It's yer party; just tell me who gets bounced out."

"Glad we understand one another. Why are you here?"

"The boat is anchored, gassed and ready to go the minute you give the okay."

Brian looked at his watch tapping the face; the diamond sparkled without a sun blazing the sky. "Give it two days. I need to have this executed precisely or I'll tip my hand too soon. If Sophie wants to pretend our contract doesn't exist, I'll remind her in my own way."

"Contract?" the man questioned and Morgan turned in and watched him.

"Aye, family contract on our marriage. But, nae worry about that. You make certain the grounds around my cabin are protected and the other matter in Nigeria is handled."

"Ms. Claiborne? The other one, I thought that was handled?"

"Questioning me?" He stepped toward the man. "Aiden, that's a deadly game to play with me and we're too close to the Atlantic." 

The man held up a hand. "Nae questioning you, boss. Being proactive. Ask twice, cut once, I say."

"That's why you've been with me the longest, Aiden. Plans changed and Ms. Kenya Claiborne is doing as planned."