Controlling Interests: A Step-Brother Romance (The Legacy Book 2) (17 page)

Wave after wave, heat after heat, breath after breath.

The world slowed and crumbled.

Nicholas’s touch melted me, blistering with the same heat he poured within me.

An eruption of warmth soothed my tormented core, but it only enhanced the daze of my submission that lost me to vision, sound, and everything that wasn’t Nicholas.

I shuddered, again and again, crying his name and bursting to tears. He took me into the strength of his arms before I crumbled. I clutched the power and heat and scent and
him
, but still the damning waves of cresting, unending ecstasy tore my muscles and leaded my body. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t feel anything over the stillness of my heart—or maybe it was a raging, fluttering pulse that so ceaselessly beat.

His kiss stole my precious air. The wracking pressure clenched everything inside me, and my slickness coated my slit and thighs with more excitement, more seed.

Nicholas murmured words of affection and love and admissions I couldn’t yet return.

He shattered me.

His hand brushed my cheek.

He put me back together.

He cradled me within his lap, and I stole any bit of strength he could offer. He gave it all, holding me close as the world faded into the comforting darkness and shielded shadow.

He kissed the tears away. I braved the golden stare. It saw through me, but I forced a smile anyway.

Nicholas’s whisper bound me under his control. “I didn’t expect you to last.”  

Me either, but I’d never admit it.

“You can’t break me, Nicholas Bennett.”

His words promised only ravaging domination. “There’s no need. You’re already mine.”

His kiss exhausted me. I fell limp in his arms, just how he had planned. I rested, granted only a moment of peace.

“
Damn
.” Reed’s laugh was wicked. “Let’s make her do that again!”

The Bennetts often boasted of their twenty-five thousand square foot mansion.

And every inch of it had trapped me like a prison. No freedom. No escape. They tucked me away and the real world carried on without me.

Even worse, I measured my captivity in humiliating cycles.

Three failed pregnancy tests since Nicholas kidnapped me. Three failed tests since I last drove, made a phone call, or answered my email. Three tests since I last lived like a normal person without a collar around my neck.

The estate was always so quiet, like a lingering despair leeched from the walls. If I couldn’t steal the keys Nicholas’s Mercedes, Max’s Aston Marten, or Reed’s bike, the least I could do was sneak outside.

A bikini packed within my dresser. I hesitated before changing into the vulnerable suit.

I never used to fear being exposed. I hated it.

Cowering in my bedroom only gave Darius more power over me, but it also kept me safe.

Christ.

It wasn’t as though I had a lock on my door anyway. Nicholas was my chain and deadbolt, but hell if I knew which side of the door he secured. 

“Come on, Hamlet.” I whistled for him to follow. “Time for some fresh air.”

He bumbled along beside me, droopy with sleep. At least I had a bodyguard…even if he’d trip over his own feet before charging to my side.

The pool was my first real test of the estate’s boundaries, and it shamed me that it took so long to make my break. I ignored the fear that prickled my spine. I wasn’t letting Darius get to me, not now that we finally had a chance to defeat him. Once I earned my trust, I’d bury Darius Bennett in stolen shares.

Big talk for someone who tip-toed onto the patio so no one would hear.

I shivered in the cold shadow of the estate’s Corinthian stone. The wings and windows, arches and balconies jutted against the pristine landscape. Darius built a temple of wealth and opulence without regard for the natural beauty inherent in the Santa Cruz Mountains.

The gardens shielded me behind roses and grape arbors. The serene salt-water pool, licked with fountains and teased into infinity edges, circled the mansion and trickled to the garden with a clean, blue and white tile. Artificial and cold, like all things Darius.

But the space was charming, and the poolside cabana offered me a lounger and radio. I turned the music on low and collapsed on the chaise with a book. The mini-bar was stocked with soda, and I tossed Hamlet a couple ice cubes. He chased after three before falling face-first into the pool. About what I expected. He crawled out and snoozed in the sunshine while I relaxed and enjoyed my book.

We both flinched when Reed jogged through the garden, shouting my name.

“
Sarah
? Where the hell are you?”

I sighed. Hamlet flipped out, bursting from the pool only to dive onto the grass and roll his way to my step-brother.

“Christ, there you are.” Reed hobbled between Hamlet’s darting circles. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

I glanced around the cabana—perfectly still, quiet, and serene before he excited my dog. Reed faked throwing a ball. Hamlet stumbled into the pool and dove to find the imaginary toy.

“Should I have left a note?” I asked.

Reed rummaged through the mini-bar and found a beer. He chugged it despite the sun hardly reaching its prime.

“Don’t pull that passive aggressive bullshit with me. Nick’s the heir. He can afford to fuck around.”

I snickered. “Your panties are wound today.”

“I’m supposed to be babysitting you. I answer one call, and you’re gone.”

I tugged on his arm to read his watch. “I’ve been out here for like, two hours.”

“Christ.”

“Hell of a phone call.”

“It’s a disaster. We lost the cream puffs.”

I closed my book. “My God. Have you informed the president?”

“They’re for the Bennett Foundation Gala, smartass. I’m trying to finalize these preparations.” He jiggled his bottle for the last few drops. “Jesus, it’s one crisis after another. The lights, the band, the food. The bakery called to cancel, said they had a fire. I told them to get in line. I’ve been putting mine out all week.”

“Time to bust out the apron.”

Reed didn’t look at me. “I gotta do something. They’re…kinda my mom’s thing.”

I quieted.

“She used to be the one managing our charity events. She had one signature dessert—these cream puffs. People would attend just to taste them. It’s pretty much the only thing of hers I tried to…replicate.”

It wasn’t my place to feel guilt for her death, and yet the weight of my surname would have sunk me to the bottom of the pool.

“There’s a place in Cherrywood Valley,” I said. “Josiah dated the owner for a while—Chocolate Haven. She helped…” My turn to wade through grief. “She helped with their funerals and wakes. If you give her my name, she’ll drop everything.”

Reed grinned. “Look at you. Helping a Bennett.”

“You’re no Bennett. You’re my Reed.”

“You mean it?”

“Of course.”

The dimple flashed. “I wonder what you’ll call me when it’s my baby in your belly.”

“You really have no tact.”

He held his hands up. “Just saying. I got a good feeling.”

“Maybe next time.”

The smile faded, like the sun hid behind a cloud. “Fuck, seriously?”

“Took the test this morning.” I winked. “Atwood Industries is safe for another month.”

“Damn it.”

I flicked through my book. “Yeah, well, you tried your best. Made hay while the sun shone and whatnot.”

Reed snickered. “You fucking love this.”

“Don’t you?”

“Yeah, but I don’t broadcast it.”

“How am I broadcasting it?”

He gestured over my bikini. “Exhibit Fucking A.”

“Oh, come on.”

“That little string thing?” Reed grinned. “You’re begging me to rip it off, bend you over, and fuck you right here.”

“Wishful thinking.”

“You’d love it.”

I shook my head.

“I’d
let
you love it.”

Now he had my attention.

The book closed. Reed charmed, though he didn’t apologize for the agonized pleasure he and his brothers forced me to endure only a few nights before.

“You know me.” He leaned close, the sea-green of his eyes revealing everything. He’d be sinful if he dropped the smirk. Reed didn’t hide his excitement, not in his voice, and certainly not in the hardness testing his jeans. “I just want to give you the experience of a lifetime.”

I gave him a fake pout. “But I’m not fertile anymore. Boo hoo.”

“Doesn’t matter to me.” Reed offered pure temptation. “We have our orders. Fuck you, fill you, and repeat.”

“It won’t do any good.”

“Isn’t that the fun of it?”

I didn’t answer, returning my attention to the book, but hell if I remembered a single word I read. Reed’s voice shivered every part of me protected by the tiny bikini.

“Who would have thought. Little Sarah Atwood has three men under her control.”

Was he serious? I tugged on my collar.

“Yeah, right,” he said. “We might snap a leash on you, but we’re on our knees first before you’re bent over. You get everything out of this deal. Passion. Luxury.”

I sat up. “Imprisonment. Torture. Almost
raped
.”

Reed frowned. “Nick.”

Low blow.

Like I wasn’t trying to rationalize how the hell I could love the man who held me captive.

“You panicked and came looking for me after two hours.” I patted the inhaler resting at my side. “You
know
I can’t get very far, but you still worried about Darius’s reaction. Don’t pretend like this is a spa vacation. I’m your
prisoner
.”

Reed tensed. I hated the look, especially as his excitement was one of the few diversions in the estate.

“Then all the more reason for me to make your stay…more enjoyable.”

He knocked the book from my hands before pulling me to the bottom of the chaise. I kicked, but it only spread my legs further.

“What are you doing?” My scolding didn’t deter him. “Reed! We’re outside!”

“You really think anyone can see you out here? Christ, Sarah, we take a
helicopter
to work.” Reed’s fingers dug into my bikini bottoms. I giggled and batted him away. “Trust me, we’re remote.”

“Not gonna happen!” I twisted, but he grabbed my ankle. He leisurely licked along the side of my foot. The shiver knocked me to my core. “Oh, that’s not fair.”

He sucked my big toe. I shuddered in a delicious thrill.

“Ew, stop that.”

“You don’t mean
ew
.”

“That’s my
toe
.”

His studied my bikini bottoms. “Well, you won’t let me get any closer.”

“Not while I’m
sunbathing.
”

“Got news for you,” Reed pointed to the cabana. “You’re not getting a lot of sun.”

I sighed, pushing myself up on my elbows. “Can you keep a secret?”

“No.”

“Figures. I’m the only Atwood that couldn’t work the farm. My skin’s too fair. I’d turn all rosy if I get in the sun.”

Reed’s devilish grin should have been a warning. “I like making you turn pink.”

“Different kind of flush, Casanova.”

He laughed. It pinned me like the crack of Max’s flogger or Nicholas’s golden stare. He pulled his shirt off in a fluid movement that tensed every etched muscle of his chest and abs, including the lean V that disappeared below the waistband of his jeans.

“Give you a choice,” He said. “Either you let me turn you pink, or….”

I followed his gaze to the pool. “You wouldn’t.”

“Either way, that bathing suit is coming off.”

I edged off the chaise. “Don’t you dare.”

“Don’t I dare
what
?”

I shrieked, but Reed was quicker. He dove for the strings of the bikini. I giggled and squirmed, but he pulled me into his arms. I expected losing the garment and an hour of my life to pure teasing.

He aimed me for the pool instead.

“Reed, no!” I batted at him. “No, no,
no
!”

Reed cackled. He trapped me in his hold, and we tumbled into the pool. A rush of cool water and tickling bubbles burst over me.

I sputtered as Reed broke us through the surface with a wild laugh. I pushed him, but he grabbed for my bathing suit. My struggle excited him. Lately my sweet Reed loved pinning me down.

Or maybe he always had.

“You
dunked
me!” I swatted the hair from my face. “You ass.”

“Who sits for two hours beside a pool and doesn’t jump in?”

“Who sits outside for two minutes and then forces
everyone
in?”

“Much more fun in here.”

The water burning my nose and lungs said otherwise. I splashed him, but Reed lived to swim. He pulled me closer when I tried to doggy paddle away.

His fingers roamed, exploring the goosebumps prickling my sun-kissed skin. The bikini top’s strings unraveled, and I held the material over my breasts, standing chest to chest with Reed. The temptation to brush along his smooth, tanned muscles nearly dropped my arms from the bikini.

Reed’s body strengthened from waters more turbulent than the few bubbles we kicked with our dive. The trophies in is room, the newspaper articles, even the hint of his sun-bleached brown hair revealed a secret life no Bennett should have exposed. All Reed needed was a surf-board and an escape from his cream puff fiasco, and he’d be a new man.