One Bossy Disaster: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Bossy Seattle Suits)

Destiny’s face turns pale as she looks down at the phone in her hand.

I have the irrational urge to fling it aside and haul her into my arms.

I don’t do that, of course.

Because although she’s here in my house, eating the dinner I’ve been working on for four hours since I tossed the meat in the marinade, we set boundaries.

Fucking. Boundaries.

I have no right to cross them, no matter how much it kills me staying on the right side of wrong.

“I should go see her,” she says.

I nod slowly, digesting the news. “Only if I come with.”

Her eyes flick to mine and widen.

“You?” Her lanky dog nudges her nose into Destiny’s palm, and she scratches the husky under the chin. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“My mess started this, Destiny. I won’t let you go alone.”

Yeah, fuck, maybe I am taking this possessive bullshit too far.

But the thought of her meeting this flippant shit-stirrer alone makes my blood boil. Like any new wave media jackal, she could spin whatever story she pleases out of the slightest word.

Nice people don’t stake their careers on gossip that eats through lives like acid.

“I don’t know.” She frowns. “Shepherd, if we turn up together—”

“It means we’re a united front, committed to the truth.”

“But what if she suspects we’re just trying to bury it? And that a whole lot of something did happen?”

“Who doesn’t suspect that now? Hell, they’re right,” I tell her. I swirl my wine before taking a sip, choosing my words carefully. “Besides, her olive branch could be an ambush. It’s better you don’t walk in there alone.”

“I’m not helpless, you know.”

“That’s the point. You’re far from it. Even the strongest know when they need backup.”

“What happens if this is a trap and she’s just waiting for us to walk in together so she can tell her followers we’re a thing?”

“Then my lawyers will move so fast she’ll wish she had birds eating her eyes instead.”

“Eww.” She wrinkles her nose. “It’s not illegal.”

“No, but I imagine what she’s trying to achieve with unsupported smears isn’t strictly immune to legal action, either.”

Destiny sighs and ducks her head down against Molly as she embraces the dog.

I try not to be distracted by how charming she is.

She warned me that the pup is young and her training isn’t perfect, but they both seem to have the bond any good dog owner should.

And seeing it’s as sweet in person as it looks online only makes me angrier that there’s some asshole firing potshots from the shadows, not caring if they tear down Destiny to feed their little lies.

It’s more than that, too.

Like the fact that she’s an addiction.

A sugar rush in slim, blonde flesh I can barely keep my hands away from when she’s this close, here in the privacy of my home.

No office politics here.

Just us.

Alone and intoxicating.

Maybe the damned wine was a bad idea after all.

Still, I know the way I’m feeling has nothing to do with booze and everything to do with the beautiful creature across from me now.

“Okay,” Destiny says finally. “So let’s say we both go and have this sit-down. What’s the best-case scenario?”

“Your frenemy publicly retracts her statement. Worst case, she doesn’t and we’re no worse off than when we started. Arriving together doesn’t mean anything, Dess.” Damn. The nickname slips off my tongue as easy as honey. “We’re both in it now, whether we like it or not.”

“Yeah, I’m… I’m sorry. I can’t believe it’s gotten so out of hand.”

“Don’t apologize,” I clip. “You’re not the one responsible.”

“No, but I’m the one who suggested the Olympia trip. If we hadn’t gone there in the first place—”

“There would be a lot of otters at the mercy of shitty tracking. Thanks to that trip, we know they don’t need to be. Also, I’m the guy who brought you on board in the middle of a scandal that was already shitting up my life.” I hold her gaze, knowing that’s a dangerous thing to do. “No point in passing out blame. All we can do is act.”

She sighs, her shoulders slumping. “I guess you’re right. I’m still sorry this happened, though. I never meant for it to blow up like this.”

“That’s life. Existence is flammable.”

And so are you, woman, I don’t say. Yet for some unholy reason I want you to turn me to ash.

Molly jumps up as she smiles, bracing her big paws on Destiny’s thighs. She wraps her arms around the dog and sets that furry tail wagging.

“You’re cute with her,” I say. “Did you grow up with dogs?”

“No. My dad was so busy and I was sort of deprived,” she says. “I think that’s why I fell in love with animals so much. Typical story of the kid who wants what she can’t have.” She grimaces. “I was a huge brat back then, though.”

“You? Never,” I say with a snort.

“Hey!” She swipes at my arm, but her face breaks into a reluctant smile anyway. “You’re not supposed to agree.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I thought I was the asshole here.”

“Well, yeah, that’s true.” Her grin softens as she loses herself in bittersweet memories, her eyes going distant and glassy. “I used to be so demanding when I was little…”

“Demanding how?”

“Just like… whatever I wanted at the time.” She shrugs. “I guess I was a little spoiled. I was Dad’s little angel, you know? All he had left after losing my mom, and we didn’t come from a big family. So I made a fuss whenever I wanted something. Good thing he didn’t let me get away with it all the time, though.” She smiles fondly. “That’s one thing he always did for me—never let me get away with my shit.”

“Is that why you’re… the way you are now?”

Her eyes sparkle with challenge. “Are you trying to say I outgrew being a brat?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“You were, weren’t you?”

I cock my head and give her a long, slow look that has her squirming in her chair.

My cock loves it too much.

“You’re not so bad now. I guess.”

“Coming from you, that’s practically a mad declaration of love. Mr. Darcy, you flatter me.” She leans forward, the apple crisp I had waiting for dessert completely forgotten. “Are you going to list my faults now?”

“Would that stop your head from growing bigger than the moon?”

“Too late.”

“No point then,” I snap.

And fuck.

I can’t find enough faults for a proper list to throw back in her face.

Destiny’s eyes heat before she trails a nail along the surface of the table.

I watch every movement avidly, imagining what she could do with that lonely finger trailing down my cock.

Her hands are a curse of the highest order, only rivaled by the rest of her.

Her nimble fingers.

Her smart mouth.

Her luminous blue eyes.

The whole time she gave her presentation, I couldn’t stop thinking about the last time we fucked, slowly, wrapped up in the sleeping bag.

It was slow and sensual and too good to forget—and it left me fucking throbbing while those assholes on the board sneered at her, their minds already made up.

I’m more glad than ever I laid down the law and stuck my own neck out.

Not just because her proposal was smart, but because it was penance.

The cost of undressing this woman with my eyes, all while I’m trying to deny that I’m anything like the womanizing wolf the world believes I am.

Fuck, what’s wrong with me?

What is my sickness?

It must be some black magic hidden in the curve of her neck, those long legs I always see straddling me, and an ass that could turn any man into a pillar of salt.

She makes me pure lust incarnate.

Ridiculous.

Ridiculous and fucking pathetic—especially when Destiny deserves vastly more than dick energy.

As her boss—however temporary—her work deserves my attention.

Her ideas are entitled to their fair shake in the world.

That’s why I strong-armed the board into making their decision then and there.

It’s amazing what a little shame can do. It made them override the rumors, plus they chose to keep me and take a leap of faith on her.

Wise decision.

“It’s funny, you know, suddenly having this opportunity I thought was toast. But I guess after Mom died, I figured out you can’t just stamp your feet and get what you want. Not even if you’re a billionaire.” She swallows thickly. I focus my attention back on her words. “So I gradually started figuring out what I wanted to do with my life…”

“And you decided conservation was your calling, bringing endangered animals to the masses,” I say.

“Actually, that’s my launchpad, but it’s not the plan forever. It’s one more step, just like school in Hawaii and then UC Davis for postgrad work. Someday I want to start my own marine conservation nonprofit. That’s why I applied for this program. You were part of the deal.”

I stare at her, surprised.

“I’ll probably regret saying this, but having a chance to work with you almost meant as much as the money. It’s not every day any charity program gives you a chance to rub shoulders with a hyper-successful businessman. And whether I like it or not, you need business thinking to keep a good nonprofit alive. Plus, I knew you’d be objective, something I’d never get with Dad.”

Her soft smile fades quickly on the last word.

Curious.

It shouldn’t be possible to find her any more attractive, but she manages. I watch her shift in the chair, leaning forward in a way that compresses her cleavage into pure sin.

“Anyway, I’m rambling. That’s enough about me.”

“You’ll pull it off, lady. Anything you set your mind to.” I mean it, too.

“God, I wish I had your confidence.” She laughs.

“You have more than you give yourself credit for. Remember, I saw the whole presentation. You’ve got good ideas and a solid presence. You did your homework. You can carve your place in the big conservation world and save some creatures. If I can help speed that up, I will.”

Destiny takes a long sip of her wine. “That’s a big promise, Mr. Foster.”

“Yeah, and I don’t bet on losing horses.”

“Flattering,” she says, but her eyes ignite as she looks at me again.

With a parting nod, I stand to tidy up the table and clear away our plates.

Just in time, too.

One more second with her face-to-face and I’m pretty sure my balls would be smurf-blue forever.

All the while, I feel her watching me, which doesn’t help them warm up to something resembling human coloring again.

“For the record, you’re still demanding as hell, no matter how many nice words I’ve dropped on you tonight.” I tell her.

“Ass,” she whispers, but her lips are curved and her cheeks are flushed with soft heat when I glance back.

“You don’t seem to mind.”

“You have other attributes, too,” she says, checking me out pretty obviously. “There are some benefits.”

“Yeah? Why don’t you enlighten me?” I’m enjoying making her blush to death, especially the way her eyes linger on my shoulders.

Working out has never been about attention.

I don’t lift weights in my forties and pound through miles of coastal waters so girls will get butterflies in the gym.

For me, it’s about erasing all the shit I’d rather not think about. The human brain is just another muscle, the only one you can pummel into exhaustion by running the rest of your body ragged.

But damn, when Miss Destiny looks at me with that teal sparkle, I can’t help feeling good about myself.

I fucking want her to feast on every inch of me.

“You’re quiet. Enjoying the view?” I ask.

“Maybe.” She drains her glass. “The wine tells me to say yes.”

I snort. “Time to open a new bottle, then.”

I half expect her to tell me I’m getting us into trouble again, crossing all the flimsy boundaries we put in place. But she just tilts her head as she looks at me and holds out her glass.

“Top me off, please.”

I grab another red blend and pop the cork, refilling her glass. She tosses it back almost in one go in a way that says she’s thirsty for far more than fermented grape juice tonight.

Damn.

A shame, but as she licks her lips, she looks up at me again. I forget all those thoughts about the quality of the wine.

“A shame,” she says, echoing my thoughts. “It’s good stuff—really good—but I wanted to get a little tipsy.”

“Why?”

A dangerous question.

“Um, so I have the nerve to finally tell you that I think you look really good in chef mode.”

“Chef mode?”

“With your sleeves rolled up and relaxed, I mean. You’re a lot like you were on our trip tonight. You’re—” She stops.

“Say it,” I urge.

“You’re actually human,” she finishes reluctantly.

That shouldn’t gut me so much, only I know it’s true.

I just wish I knew what the hell it means that Destiny Lancaster brings out that side of me so fucking effortlessly.

Her smile is pure midnight sensuality now behind the wine softening her face and damn if that doesn’t turn me on.

“But you want to know a secret?” she ventures.

“What?” I lean in.

“The wine hasn’t even kicked in yet. All that meat makes it a slow burn.” The adorable way she hiccups and quickly covers her mouth says otherwise.

Little liar.

Fine, though. I’ll play along.

“Guess you didn’t need liquid courage to work up the nerve to tell me I’m not a robot. How generous, Miss Lancaster.” I’m too close to her face, seething with the urge to kiss her desperately.

“Oh, no!” She holds up a finger. “No, you’re not doing that again.”

I prop my arm against the wall, leaning over as I look at her. “What? Miss Lancastering you again? I think I’ll do it whenever I damn well please. Feels more intimate than your first name.”

Destroyed.

The way she looks at me with her little mouth dropping up in delight slays what’s left of my self-control.

My cock might murder me in my sleep if I let my conscience win out tonight.

I’ve been hard as a rock through most of the evening, having her across from me, and now I’m bursting at the seams with the signals she keeps giving.

“…there’s one problem,” she whispers, swallowing.

“What problem, Destiny?” I growl, drawing closer.

“We said it was over and done. One weekend and then… nothing. As much as I want it—and God, do I want it—are you sure you want to go back on that?” Even as she speaks, her fingertips graze up my shirt. “Also, I know what you look like shirtless…”

“Does a lion want to devour a thousand pound antelope on a silver platter?” I ask, taking her face with my palm and tilting her chin up firmly.

She goes so red it kills me.

“I was hoping you’d say that. Because I kinda want to see you shirtless again.”

There goes the rest of the blood in my body, south of the border.

Fuck.

Fuck.

“Has anyone ever told you what a little fever you are? How fuckable?” I growl raggedly.

I’m touching her before I even know it, my greedy hands sliding up her arms.

She’s still wearing the blouse-and-skirt ensemble she came to work in. The same outfit begging me to take her over my desk.

That can’t happen tonight, but I can take her on damn near every surface of my house.

She’s made me that insane, absolutely certifiable.

“We said just the weekend…” she whispers. The way her hand slides up my stomach and toys with the first button of my shirt says she couldn’t care less what lines we tried to draw. “But I figured maybe we could make an exception for tonight, seeing as I’m here and we’re already in trouble…”

“Woman, have I mentioned I love how you think?” I can’t think straight. Not when my lips collide with hers, all braising heat and pulsing need. “Missing this chance would be an atrocity. Now, bed or wall?”

“Bed or what?” Her eyes go wide.

“You heard me. You have five seconds.”

I don’t give her that long before she’s in my arms and we’re rushing across the room. I plow our tangled bodies against the side of my fireplace, pinning her down and drinking deep, taking until she gasps.

“Oh! Shepherd.”

Yeah, fuck.

Give it to me, sweetheart.

Give it all.

I do my damnedest to drive it out of her, teasing her little tongue until it darts out to moisten the pad of her bottom lip.

She’s panting when I pull away, glancing at the ceiling like she can see through it to the bedroom and then straight to the stars. “Bed. It has to be.”

My eyebrows go up in genuine surprise.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she explains. “I’d love to have you keep going right here, but… I don’t think Molly would like that.”

I whip around and find the husky staring, sitting behind me quietly with her furry head cocked.

Shit.

I’m not used to having a third wheel with any woman.

The primal part of me may be annoyed at having to stomp the brakes. The rest of me is amused.

How long has it been for her?

How bad am I for wanting to be the first man she’s been with in nearly a year—or at least the first one she trusts around her dog?

Still, we shouldn’t push it.

That’s a good way to wind up with a barking fit of confusion ruining the mood when you’re on the brink.

“Upstairs?”

She smiles, raking her nails down my chest. “Yes. Good idea.”

The journey up gives me just enough time to process this insanity.

No, dammit, we shouldn’t have sex again.

I know that deeply as I grab her hand and practically drag her up the long floating staircase with me.

She stares at the glass cabinets and backlit display walls with pieces of my life and meaningful art I’ve collected over the years, but she doesn’t say anything as I lead her into my bedroom.

“Stay,” she tells Molly firmly by the door, who now has a small green alligator chew hanging from her mouth Destiny fetched from her bag. “Good girl.”

“She can have the run of the house,” I say, deciding not to put on music.

That’s not what this is.

It’s not a date, no matter what kind of unspeakable fuckery is about to go down.

And it goes down hard a second later, when her skirt hits me in the face.

When I turn, she’s already naked.

“How?” I whisper, biting back a grin.

My cock lunges at my zipper, and for a second, I just stare at her.

My eyes have never been so ravenous before.

She’s too perfect.

Long legs, gentle curves, toned yet soft at the same time, all anchored around that pink perfection between her legs underneath a small blonde strip of hair.

She tenses, her muscles defined as she breathes slowly, pushing her tits out like an offering.

I’ve mapped so much of her body and not nearly enough.

I hate that this already feels like so much more than a hookup, even if we’re both throbbing.

Hookups, they scratch an itch.

This feels more like an antidote for my soul.

She’s so much more than one more fuck I won’t think about in a month, a year. I think we both know it, and honestly, it scares me.

Just not enough to stop.

Her spectacular eyes are almost wholly blue, deep and dark and inviting as her chest rises and falls.

“Not fair. You’re still wearing too many clothes.” Her voice is a husky whisper.

Goddamn, she’s going to make me keel over before I can even get inside her.

“Greedy girl,” I say, stalking forward. “Do I have to make you beg again?”

She licks her lips and nods.

I let her touch me, placing my hands over hers, guiding them down my body. As her nails drag down my chest, my abs, stopping at the insistent bulge just below my belt, I lose it.

My fingers are already working at my clothes.

This isn’t a night for idle teasing, not when there’s this much sex-crazed magic in the air.

Pants first. Shirt. Socks. Boxers.

When I’m as naked as she is, I pull her in, drawing her in with one rough push against the small of her back.

My dick hurts, growing hungrier by the second to be inside her.

Her gaze falls and stops on my pulsing cock.

Fuck, I’ll never get tired of seeing her look at me like this.

I could see it every day for the next century, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

“Mouth, woman. Let me feel it.”

I watch her go to work, taking me to heaven one slow kiss down my body at a time.

When she’s on her knees with my cock in her hand, it’s a miracle I don’t blow right there. But I regain control just as she starts making these slow, devilish strokes down my length, pushing her clasped fingers tightly against my balls.

And when the head of my cock disappears behind those heart-shaped lips, I think I’m in pieces.

No longer whole, and that’s okay.

That’s very, very fucking okay when she sucks like a goddess.

Her tongue works me like mad, pure sorcery as she changes rhythm.

Total delirium in every wide-eyed glance as I fist her hair.

“Destiny, fuck,” I snarl, the only coherent words I can manage.

She isn’t bothered as she sucks me harder, faster, her little hand working a cock that’s far too big for her and her young blue eyes staring up insistently.

My breath becomes a groan, and that shame I should feel at losing my shit so early gets hurled aside by pure ecstasy.

“Destiny!” I pull her hair, winning a loud moan against my cock. “Fuck, that mouth, you’re going to make me—”

With evil precision, her tongue goes there.

Right to the spot that must be my hardwired trigger.

Next thing I know, I’m seeing stars as my balls heave fire and I’m trying to hold myself back from shoving my cock all the way down her throat.

Just enough.

Just enough to push her limits.

Just enough to hear her moaning gag as I boil over, releasing in her mouth until I’m spilling out of her.

Fuck!

This is not coming.

This release rips me out of my own body and slams me back into it, and soon I’m fisting my cock, marking her tits with a few last ropes while her hand works between her legs.

She’s still wearing me when she comes.

Damn good thing, too, or else I might be a little jealous at her fingers doing the work.

“That’s it, Dess. Good fucking girl,” I snarl, my eyes drilling into hers.

I cradle her head against my thigh until she stops shuddering, pressing my wrist against her mouth so she has something to bite.

Unlike roughing it with the otters, she can be as loud as she wants here, but I still enjoy watching her try to stifle the music of her orgasm.

Once she’s on her feet, kissing me again, our rhythm slows but the hunger doesn’t.

It’s different now, yes.

Needier at a bone-deep level I can’t describe.

I kiss her more deeply, and she claws at my back, raking her nails down my skin.

I’m sure she’s leaving marks, putting her own unique signature all over me.

Good.

It’s sexy as hell knowing she’s into marking me just as much as I want to engrave myself on her.

Though her eyes are dark with lust, there’s this strange distance in steaming desire.

She kisses me with a little bit too much desperation.

Finally, when I can’t stand it and I haul her across the room to my huge king bed and throw her down, she averts her eyes and looks past me at the ceiling.

“My eyes are down here,” I joke, waiting until she looks at me. “That’s right. Look at me when I break you.”

Good fucking girl.

Her eyes never leave me as I rub her pussy, pushing two fingers inside her sweetness, robbing one moan from her lips after the next.

She’s so wet for me, instantly squeezing me until I see white.

I’m lucky I already came once, or I’d be a goner for sure, blowing my load inside her in under a minute.

Patience, patience.

The way my thumb rubs her clit drives it home that I’m taking my sweet time.

“Shepherd,” she gasps.

“That’s it,” I growl.

That’s it forever.

My name on her lips.

I want her eyes on me the entire time.

Not looking past me.

Not through me.

Not like she’s somewhere else when I’m in full control of her tight little pussy.

“Destiny,” I whisper.

Her eyes snap to mine.

I press my forehead to hers, holding our gaze, before I slowly work my way down to her tits and feast.

Her nipples are willing prisoners. I suck and massage and bite with just the right pressure that makes me think she could go off just from having them sucked.

Only, I’m not going to give her that chance.

She’s already put her bratty mouth to good use, and it would be a sin not to return the favor.

So I do.

I kiss down her belly, that little landing strip, her right inner thigh.

I draw it out until she’s clutching the sheets, holding on so she doesn’t go airborne.

“Shepherd, Shepherd…”

My name floats off her lips again and again like a prayer.

When I know she’s desperate, when I know she’s red and seething and about to pass out if I hold back, that’s when I answer.

My mouth finds her pussy and I eat her like my last meal.

This tongue delves deep, drags her to the edge, and then moves to her clit for the grand finale.

And what a fine fucking send-off it is.

Come for me, sweetheart.

Make that pussy scream.

It’s the most beautiful orgasm I’ve ever witnessed.

Her clenching, shaking, whimpering, coming apart, hair lashing like gold ribbons as the pleasure pulls her under.

Destiny Lancaster comes like she’ll never be the same after my tongue, and I’m proud as hell of that.

She’s barely breathing again, falling into my next kiss, tasting herself on my lips, when I can’t hold back.

I only wait until her eyes are on me before I push inside her, bottoming out in one long stroke.

Fuck, it’s too perfect.

We’ve done this enough, so I know the rhythm of her body and the tempo of her pulse.

I know all the right angles.

I know I need to come inside her, coming on me, if it’s the last goddamned thing I do.

She’s so close, and so am I.

Pressing my fingers against her clit, we go hard while I stroke slow circles, thrusting like a surging river.

“Oh, Shepherd, Shepherd. Fuck!” she murmurs.

Her eyes flutter shut.

“No, baby. Look at me.”

Be with me, I want to say.

But I don’t, not even in the heat of this, because I don’t know what she’ll think that means and honestly, I don’t know myself.

Her eyelids flutter. “So. Close.”

“Then go.” My breath falls against her cheek like a desert breeze.

I need—need—to see her come undone, before my balls lose it.

This is the last fucking time we’ll do this.

Supposedly.

If that’s true, this needs to count, this whole night where every hour feels like a breathless eternity that’s never long enough.

I want her captured in the moment.

Not thinking about anyone else.

Not dwelling on the fact that we’re doing everything we shouldn’t.

Not tomorrow’s trouble.

Just her and me, tangled up in this bed, alive with our own brute passions and driving each other out of our minds with filthy promises.

I slow my fingers as she squeezes around me, and she squirms, desperate for release.

“Look at me, Dess,” I order again through clenched teeth.

“So demanding,” she says, but her voice is tight.

There’s no more play in her eyes as she finally meets mine.

That familiar pressure becomes a raging current against my spine.

I slow down a little more—barely.

I’m not coming before she does.

“Shepherd,” she begs again. “Shepherd, please.”

“Since you asked nicely…” I press my thumb against that sensitive nub, knowing she’s ready.

Fuck, is she ever.

With one shrill moan, she comes apart under me.

It’s almost violent.

Shaking the bed, crying my name, my entire body shaking with animalistic energy, driving to her very depths.

Just like that, I lose the battle with my own orgasm and I tear the fuck open.

I didn’t want this to end, but there’s something impossibly hot about watching her come for me, and I can’t hold back.

With one more furious breath, I join her in the reverie, coming until my vision, my body, my everything are stars.

Destiny, indeed.

I’m deathly afraid she’s going to be mine.

When I’m done, I know we should clean up. Yet I can’t bring myself to roll out of bed and away from her when we’re both rendered boneless.

She sighs, long and deep, and when I pull her into me, she doesn’t fight.

Even though this is on the heels of one of the best orgasms of my life, there’s something melancholy about the afterglow.

A tinge of sadness that started the second she looked away.

If this wasn’t the last time, it’s coming in the next few hours.

The very real curtain call.

A happy fluke, I guess, that she came to my house and this happened again. But we both know this can’t continue.

After tonight, it’s over and done.

If only that didn’t make it far too real.

The melancholy lingers like poison after a sting.

She’s still in my arms, breathing gently across my chest.

Still, there’s a blue aura I can feel, sadness creeping in.

I just don’t know how to mention it.

Some shit, I can handle without breaking a sweat.

Business, character assassinations, former associates of Uncle Aidan’s outfit who would’ve loved to slash my throat with piano wire if I wasn’t so high profile…

I’ve built my new life around my career, and it’s no exaggeration to say I know what I’m doing.

But this, this is uncharted territory.

I’ve never been one of those touchy-feely guys. The men who talk about their feelings without it getting weird.

In the life I’ve lived, feelings are something you hide, an annoying vulnerability that shouldn’t exist at all.

Hell, even just understanding this feels harder than learning Coptic Greek.

I’d rather talk facts and figures.

Give me numbers, graphs, figures organized into a spreadsheet.

Data doesn’t lie, assuming it’s not manipulated.

People, as numbers and assets and liabilities, make sense to me.

They have a function and either they do it or they don’t.

If they don’t, they get one chance to fix it before they can fuck right off and stop troubling me.

Mostly, I’m barely in charge of that day-to-day minutiae anymore when I handle the big picture.

Shareholders, expansions, and reputations to keep.

This doesn’t feel small, though.

It’s about the size of Everest, all squeezed into this room.

Destiny, with her eyes shut and her breath steady and her hands balled slightly. This is like waiting for a time bomb to detonate.

Mainly, the fact that she’s pulling away.

Walls have gone up around her, despite the fact that we’re still naked.

I don’t know how to reach her.

Not that we were ever close to have that connection.

This was just sex.

A lie I tell myself a thousand times and it still doesn’t sink in.

No, fuck this distance.

The feeling is like an itch under a cast, right there on the surface but impossible to scratch.

I’m uncomfortable. Antsy.

Not at all what I’m used to, and all thanks to another human being.

Where the hell is my cynicism now?

How the mighty have fallen.

I can’t actually be interested in keeping this madness going… can I?

And for me to be interested first? Before she breaks down in tears, begging me to stay?

Goddamn, that’s infuriating.

I’m losing my touch.

No wonder she can turn herself off like a switch. It must be tough, being physically attracted to someone you’re not emotionally interested in.

After all, we don’t have much in common besides philanthropy and an appreciation for nature.

That’s not enough to make a young girl like her fall for a mature bonehead like me. I’m twice her age, for fuck’s sake.

I’m not down with the easy, casual sex young people in her generation enjoy, either.

Just look at my possessiveness when she said she’d never been with a guy when Molly was around.

The jealous way I wanted her to look at me.

I craved a connection, and she didn’t.

Simple as.

I tried like hell to keep it casual, but clearly I missed the mark.

Because clearly this means more to me than it does to her.

She’s from the same world of money that gets old fast, where life is materialistic and heavily performative in the public eye.

I can’t stand it.

Privacy is everything, and she doesn’t get that.

I’ve spent my entire adult life trying to shut the world out.

She’s spent hers putting herself front and center for a cause.

Sure, she has her secrets, but that won’t be true forever.

When she gets with a guy—the lucky future dickhead who’s meant to stick around, and I hate him already—he’ll just pop up in her pictures and videos with the same natural ease as her husky.

Also, I’ve got about ten thousand reasons for distrusting women.

I can’t afford to get emotionally invested now, especially not in the girl who’s already made my name mud through no fault of her own.

“Hey.” Destiny glances up at me, her hand splayed across my chest, eyes wide and searching. “You’re like a rock. So tense.”

“Am I? Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Her breath is cool as she blows it out, long and slow. “I wasn’t saying it to make you feel bad. I just want to know what you’re thinking about.”

Damn good question.

What am I thinking?

Right now, mostly how foreign it is that anyone wants to know what’s inside my head outside of a professional setting. Having anyone scooping out my thoughts like the flesh from a coconut doesn’t feel appealing.

But the gentle way Destiny keeps looking at me, the distance gone again, like she can just push it aside when she’s worried about me, does strange things to a man’s mind.

You know what?

Fuck. It.

“Did you know I was married once?”

“What?” Her eyes turn into dinner plates. “You were?”

I nod.

Too late to back out now, dumbass.

“Serena Jameson. I proposed to her before my second tour of duty in Iraq. She said yes. I was gone longer than intended, though, when my unit’s time was extended. I’ll spare you the details. What matters is, when I came home unannounced, I found her in bed with another man.”

Destiny gasps. Her nails dig into my chest as her eyes darken with anger.

A warped part of me loves the way she looks at me.

“Oh my God. That’s awful and unbelievable and… and you deserved better, Shepherd.”

“That’s what I thought, too. That’s why we fought like wolverines when she leaped out of bed,” I say bitterly.

It’s like another life after so many years gone by.

At the time, it was like being eviscerated, but now it’s just a cruel distant memory.

A glaring reason to keep myself separated from anyone who can inflict pain.

“She told me I never loved her. I was too cold, after I had so much poison earlier in my life,” I say slowly. “Serena said I never made her feel loved, that I was just using her for sex. I wasn’t using her, but in her own way, she was right.”

“No way! Shepherd, she cheated on you.”

“And people do terrible things for a reason, don’t they? Every villain has a story and every crime has a reason.” I look at her sharply. “Anyway, she said she couldn’t spend the rest of her life waiting around for me to come home and shape up to be the man she wanted. She couldn’t live with the way I made her feel—more like one more asset in my account than a proper wife.”

“Jesus,” Destiny breathes. “Holy shit.”

My gut aches with phantom pain. I really wonder how deep I should go, but this is our last night, isn’t it?

Why shouldn’t she get to see all of me naked and exposed?

“It gets worse,” I grind out.

“Tell me.” She leans forward, slowly stroking my arm.

“The other man was still in the bedroom when I confronted them. After he heard us fighting for a little while, he snapped, I guess.”

It’s a rotten memory I’ve kept locked away in a vault.

Serena’s betrayal was one thing, but this was so different.

So fucking unnecessary.

The Marines showed me plenty of gruesome shit, everything from half-starved kids to charred human flesh.

Active duty does that to every man who steps into a combat zone, I suppose, but this didn’t happen on a barricaded Fallujah street where you’d expect it. This ambush happened right in my own home.

“I told Serena I loved her—as well as I ever could. I always had. But she didn’t feel the same way anymore. We were too broken, too damaged. Too fucking betrayed. I was ready to walk away from the flaming wreck of our marriage and give her the divorce she wanted. Then her lover boy came barreling out with a gun.”

Destiny stops breathing.

She’s not the only one.

“Obviously, I tried to get her clear, push her out of his path, but the man was crazed—and clearly, he hadn’t fired anything at a living person before. He pulled the trigger anyway. Shot Serena before I could get her on the ground. The bullet ricocheted and grazed me.”

Deathly silence now.

Maybe she knows just getting this out is killing me.

Then her small hand comes up to my face, fluttering, and stops on that faded line on my cheek. I nod like my head weighs more than a boulder.

“She died instantly,” I say coldly. “The man was still there, staring in disbelief. I knocked him out cold before he could do more damage, tried to resuscitate her, called the cops, EMTs, the works. But when he woke up, he claimed I provoked the fight. He insisted I shot her in a jealous fit and because I had PTSD. Lying fuckrat.”

She’s too stunned for words, but her hand tightens on my arm, so small yet so soothing.

“There was a massive scandal. With my past, people thought I did it—it’s not unheard of. In crime of passion murders, it’s often the partner. And she was unfaithful, after all. There was a big investigation and it went to trial.”

“While you were still grieving,” she murmurs, shaking her head sharply.

“It was rough. I had to face up to her betrayal and death and the fact that I was being accused of her murder. I also had the media up my ass for—”

I stop.

Goddamn, where do I even begin with my other dirt?

“My past. It always comes back to that.”

She looks at me, her eyes glassy with confusion.

“I don’t understand. What past?” she asks so gently.

I sigh out my soul.

“You’re too young and you’re not a crime geek. Don’t suppose you’ve heard of Aidan Murphy?”

She shakes her head.

“He was my uncle and almost like a father to me, after my real dad died. He was also a heartless, bullying, drug-dealing fuck who spent his last years in prison after he was busted as head of the Irish outfit all the way up the Pacific Coast.” I smile unevenly. “I was only seventeen when he went down, right after he drew me into his world. I also helped put his ass away by helping the Feds connect the dots.”

“Holy crap. Um, is there any movie you haven’t lived?” She looks at me fiercely. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I was young and I spent a year in witness protection before I enlisted to sort my shit out. My family also lost damn near everything as the Feds combed through assets, trying to find out where Uncle Aidan’s dirt ended and ours began. Point is, his trial was a big deal. So big that I had to hire a small army of reputation managers to clean up my history with it before Home Shepherd was ever a thought. Still, there’s always a few breadcrumbs somewhere. A few people really into the mob stuff who remember. I was already fabulously rich, a rising star in the business world when the shooting with Serena and her killer happened. You can imagine the shit show when the reporters found out about the Irish mob connection.”

I’m expecting tears, more sympathy I don’t feel like I deserve.

Instead, she takes my hand, lifting it gently to her lips and kissing my knuckles one at a time.

“It’s so horrible. I watched my father go through the same thing, so much pain and doubt about the past. I guess this is what he warned me about.”

“Warned you?” My head snaps up.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry. He just… he heard about the scandal. He’s too good at reading me, and I couldn’t deny that one thing was true about the crap he was hearing. He told me not to get mixed up with you—and now I know why.”

“Wise man,” I bite off. I think my hollowed-out smile weighs a hundred pounds. “He’s absolutely right.”

“Shepherd, no. I’m sure he pulled strings to even find out all that. I couldn’t when I looked it up. Whatever you did to bury the past, all the bad stuff, it worked. Mostly. And I guess now I know what you’re so worried about our little rumors unearthing.”

“It’s more than that. Uncle Aidan, Serena, that was the past. My old life. It might as well have happened to somebody else,” I say darkly. “No one talks about it anymore, not after the lawyers and specialists I sent to clean it up. Forensics cleared my name in the end anyway. I couldn’t have fired and hit her from the angle I was in.”

“Of course. It isn’t fair. You moved on, trying to live your life, and reinvent yourself…”

“What else was there to do?” I shrug. “I was innocent and—” I scrub a hand over my face. The silence hurts.

But Destiny holds me now, anchoring me to the here and now, both of her arms wrapped around my neck.

Much tighter than before.

It’s weirdly comforting, even if she doesn’t speak.

Somehow, that’s better.

No mindless words of comfort or pointless assurances that everything is fine or that what happened was so horrid.

I lived it.

I know it was godawful.

She knows it, too, and she just holds me.

She understands I don’t need words.

Just the sweet, companionable silence with her wrapped around me.

Right now, that closeness sinks under my ribs, like something inside me snapping back into place.

I close my eyes in the darkness and give in.

I let myself feel this, feel her.

My Destiny.

Fuck the bad puns.

She’s still the realest and truest I might ever have.

Her arm is still hooked across my chest with her cheek resting on my shoulder, her little nose against my neck.

We breathe together.

I start to relax.

I hadn’t realized just how tense I was until my muscles came unscrewed.

I sag back into bed, and Destiny is there with me.

A light scratch at the door sends me padding over.

The second I open it, the husky darts for the bed, her little nails scraping the floor.

Smiling as Molly licks her face, Dess looks at me curiously.

“It’s fine. The bed’s big enough for three,” I mutter.

And damn, she feels divine in my arms all night, even with the canine lump stretched between our legs.

I don’t dare let myself think she belongs here in my life.

That’s a stupid thought, but having her here tonight definitely feels right.

I rub her back slowly, twining my hand in her hair.

When our lips meet again, it’s like a reunion.

Slow and tender and so bittersweet it’s hard to breathe.

Kissing Destiny tastes like coming home after a hard day and smelling a decadent pie.

She’s a warm bath, a glass of wine.

A sip of forgetfulness I need.

If only it wasn’t so addictive, greedily drinking her sweetness as the darkness fades into something brighter.

Goddamned stunning.

Just three days alone with her combined, and I’ve forgotten all the reasons I ever despised her. If only I could see myself with someone like her. After Serena, with anyone.

But I don’t.

I can’t.

My heart is scar tissue, and Dess deserves better than damaged goods.

Prolonging this shit by making her think I could ever give her something more feels catastrophic.

I should get up right now and walk the hell away.

She hooks a leg over my hip and looks down at me, her lips red and swollen. Her hair falls past her face and she brushes it back.

“I’m only going to say this once,” she says, shifting so she’s over me, the husky lump moving to the floor by my fireplace.

I’m hard again, and by the way she positions herself, she knows it.

“Just once,” she whispers.

“Okay, once. What?”

“It’s not your fault.” She sinks down on me then.

The mingled wetness from last time makes me slide inside her almost immediately.

My hands clasp her ass like she’s the only thing keeping me from drowning in regrets.

Now, I don’t ever want her to leave this bed.

It’s a crazy, possessive need that has me flinging her down on my cock until her toes curl and her lungs stop working.

“Don’t need to hear you say it,” I tell her.

“I know. Which is why I told you once, and I’ll never mention it again.”

I suck in a sharp breath as she takes my hands and places them on her breasts. She rolls her hips and I rise instinctively to meet her.

“Say it,” I demand.

“I didn’t know her, but you loved her. I get it.” Her hands are still on mine, holding me to her as she moves, taking my strokes. “I just want you to know, Shepherd, she was wrong. So wrong.”

I can’t look away.

Her beauty blazes down at me like a tropical sun.

I’m not usually breathless, but right now, I can’t breathe.

I don’t know what she’s doing to me. The whole world has inverted.

When she kisses me again, she tastes like closure.

Like painful endings.

Like new beginnings.

Slow, slow, she takes me deeper, her hips working faster, and I lie back and let her.

Let her go to town.

There’s nothing sexier than Destiny Lancaster riding my cock in this moment.

I let her guide my hands, one at her breast, the other at the place our bodies meet.

This time, when she’s close, she holds back.

I can feel her waiting for me.

Goddamn.

This isn’t fucking anymore.

The distance we had before is gone, yet she’s right here with me, eyes blazing and mouth open and breath so worn.

“Together. Please,” she begs.

The sound of her voice pulls me over the edge as I thrust like mad, burying myself in her.

Yeah, I’m fucking falling.

Falling so hard I might never peel myself off the ground.

And we fall together, long and hard until this wild, gorgeous woman collapses on top of me, still panting for dear life.

I barely have time to pull out and wrap my arms around her before a huge, fluffy weight pounces on us.

“Molly!” Destiny squeals.

I’m fucking winded.

Groaning under the weight of a dog who looks too damn smug, almost like she knows exactly what we were doing. As Molly rolls right over, wiggling around the bed to find her place, the storm of emotion dissipates.

I can finally laugh again.

“Sorry,” Destiny says, maneuvering the dog so she’s not crowding us. “She does this thing where she crawls out of bed and then jumps back in later. My little cannonball.”

“You’re lucky I like dogs.”

“Even on your bed?” She smiles.

“If she’s a nice dog—and housebroken.” I shrug.

It’s probably a good thing we have this distraction, so we’re not lost in what this means or doesn’t.

Hell, or maybe I’m the one who needs the distraction.

Hell, maybe I’m the only one putting meaning into this where it shouldn’t exist.

Destiny wraps one arm around Molly and the other around me. The pup slowly settles, content in her throne of tangled sheets.

“Just a few minutes, girl. Then it’s back to the floor,” she says with a yawn.

Molly licks my face, and against my better judgment, I close my eyes and pass out.