In The Arms of a Donovan: A Sexy BBW Billionaire Family Series Romance (The Donovans Book 13) (17 page)

Those words made her feel better because Amber trusted Jenise’s judgement.

“My father and Jazz don’t believe that,” she told her friend.

Jenise looked shocked. “What do they think is wrong with the Donovans? Are they basing their opinion solely on what’s been going on lately?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, I guess. Jazz mentioned the sex scandal and the charges against Savian. But my dad, he didn’t say anything specific, just something vague about rich people buying their way out of trouble. I don’t know.” Amber sighed with the frustration she’d been experiencing as she’d thought constantly in the last week about her father and Jazz’s reaction to Brandon, a man they’d never met.

“I think they’re good men. The Senior Donovans have been lucky to have good women standing beside them and I think the next generation is learning how valuable partnerships are as well,” Jenise said.

Amber shrugged. “I guess I’ve done worse,” she said.

Jenise waved a hand dismissing Amber’s words. “He’s nothing like Billy. Even though I don’t know a whole lot about Brandon, I can tell you that he is absolutely nothing like that idiot.”

Amber had taken those words as Jenise’s seal of approval and with that she’d thought the last thing she needed to do was to see for herself if all this worry over how her family felt about Brandon was even worth it. She’d come to Houston to see if there was anything between them—anything worth pursuing, that is. Now, as she cracked eggs into a ceramic bowl and added salt and pepper she wondered if she was really ready for that answer.

“Breakfast for dinner,” Albert said, coming into the kitchen. “My Darla used to love eating breakfast food at dinnertime.”

Pushing her thoughts to the side, Amber smiled over her shoulder as she watched Brandon’s father ease slowly onto one of the stools in front of the island.

“I like it too,” she told him. “I wish I had the makings for cinnamon waffles and some turkey bacon would be good too.”

She saw his frown as she moved to put the remaining eggs back into the refrigerator. “Let me guess, you don’t like turkey bacon?”

He shook his head. “If I’m going to eat bacon it had better be pork,” he said with absolution.

Amber laughed. “You sound just like my dad.”

“Then you father is a smart man,” he continued. “My Brandon’s a very smart man.”

She nodded and continued to move about the kitchen. “He seems to be. I just met him on the cruise.”

“And you’re already in his house cooking.”

“I know that seems pretty strange. I’ve been thinking that for the last few minutes myself,” she said.

“We don’t have the control,” Albert told her. “That’s what Darla used to tell me. We don’t control who we fall for or when. We think we do and that’s when the mistakes start to happen. She said it was always best to sit back and let the universe do whatever it was going to do, when it was ready to do it.”

Amber thought about those words. “Huh, I wonder how many bad situations I would have avoided if I’d done that. Or what other places and things I would have experienced.”

“Darla and I were married three months after we met. She set the date about five minutes after staring down at my ring on her finger. When my brothers asked what was the hurry to get married, her response had been so simple and yet it was the smartest thing I think I’ve ever heard. She said, ‘If you know what you want and who you want those things with, then you do what you have to do to make it happen.’ She was right,” he told her.

He was looking at Amber like he was telling her this for a reason but she certainly wasn’t ready to go down that path. Instead, she began asking if he had any food allergies.

“It’s good to see a woman in the kitchen cooking again. It’s been way too long since I’ve had the pleasure of watching that,” he said.

“Oh come on, I know you’re not trying to tell me I’m the first friend of Brandon’s to cook for you,” she said playfully.

She liked talking to Albert Donovan. He seemed like an easy man to be around, although there was definite tension between father and son.

“You’re the first woman friend of his I’ve ever met,” Albert said.

Amber wasn’t sure how she felt about that information.

She was just placing slices of Swiss cheese inside the omelet when Albert asked, “You can tell when you find ‘the one’. My wife told me that too. But I already knew that, because I knew the moment I met her that she was ‘the one’ for me.”

“I’m not looking for ‘the one’,” she told him as she set the plate in front of him on the island. “Brandon and I are just…well, I guess I don’t know what we’re doing. But I don’t think either of us are considering the other is ‘the one’.”

“We’re not and this is not a discussion the two of you should be having,” Brandon said, entering the room, scowl already affixed to his face.

Albert didn’t say a word, simply picked up his fork and began cutting into his omelet.

“Mmmm hmph, deeelicious!” he said and smiled at Amber.

“Thank you,” she said, delighted that he enjoyed her cooking and then looking over to Brandon continued with, “Sit down and I’ll fix you one.”

He did what she said without a word to her, or a glance at his father. Amber wondered if he’d enjoy her omelet too. Then, she wondered why it even mattered.

Chapter 13

Brandon stood in the doorway of his second guest bedroom watching as Amber situated that colorful doggie bed close to the queen-sized bed that was for the humans. His father was already set up in the first guest room.

“Bailey was the one who insisted I have guest bedrooms. I told her I never had guests,” he said, for lack of anything better to say.

“Guess you’re going to have to tell her she was right,” Amber said as she stepped out of her shoes.

He chuckled. “She’s going to love hearing that.”

“Newsflash, all sisters love hearing their brothers say that.”

Now she was chuckling as she turned and sat on the bed.

Brandon looked from her to Essie, who was now sleeping like a baby, in her pink and green haven.

“She travels well,” he said.

The dog had eaten some ridiculously small food and drank water like it had been stuck in the Sahara for weeks, while they’d enjoyed their omelets. Albert had joked it was just like being at a family dinner. When they were finished Brandon insisted on doing the dishes and Amber had happily let him, confessing that she’d always hated doing dishes. Albert offered to walk with her outside while Essie did her business for the evening. Brandon had felt a spurt of fear at watching his father walk out that door, especially after all that had happened tonight. But after Bailey told him that Devlin was still in Houston, Brandon had called him and asked if he could get someone to watch his father twenty-four seven. There were also the other uncles that were in their hotels only learning about what happened with Albert by the phone call Trent insisted on making to them. Brandon had no idea why the security they’d already discussed for the Seniors after the incidents in Miami, was no longer in place. However, Devlin was already handling a new security detail. He had someone at the hotel and was sending someone to Brandon’s apartment building. The Seniors would be safe, for now.

“She likes people,” Amber was saying.

“I definitely cannot tell,” he told her with a shake of his head.

“You two just have to get used to each other,” she said and used her hand to pat the mattress right next to her. “Come. Sit. Talk.”

Brandon didn’t want to talk. He did want to be next to Amber though.

“I have a confession to make,” she said when he sat beside her on the bed.

“Let me guess, you’re madly in love with my father and the two of you are going to run away and buy a pack of these ankle-biting dogs to live happily ever after with,” Brandon said, only half joking.

He hadn’t missed how easily Albert and Amber talked and laughed with each other during dinner. Brandon couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his father smiling and having a good time. These past months Albert always had a worried or stressed look about him, carrying a heaviness on his shoulders that he didn’t once attempt to share with his children.

“No,” she said still smiling. “But he definitely looks good to have just been released from the hospital. I can see where his son gets it.”

“Gets what?”

“The looks and the chivalry. Your father also talks a lot, and like you, he says the right things just about every time. Even if it’s not what a person wants to hear.”

“Did he say something in particular to you? I can talk to him, tell him to back off,” he was saying when she put up a hand to stop him.

“Don’t you dare. I like him. He’s refreshing. He made me think about and finally come to terms with what I’m really doing here in Houston.”

“Because you couldn’t resist my charm and wit a second longer,” he joked because Brandon couldn’t take another blow tonight. If she were going to tell him that she’d come here to tell him that she didn’t want to talk to or see him anymore, he didn’t know how he was going to handle it. He didn’t know if he could take it in stride and keep things moving as he’d always done in the past.

“No,” she said, this time with more seriousness. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Even when my family warned me to stay away from you, I still didn’t know if I could. So in addition to my meeting in Miami, I stopped by to see Jenise. I asked her about you and your family. I even had the chance to meet two of your newest cousins when Jenise invited me to dinner at your Aunt Caroline’s house.”

He nodded, remembering the happier emails and text messages he’d received just before leaving on the cruise. Lyra, his cousin Dion’s wife, had given birth to a daughter that they’d named Ilyssa. Just two days afterward, Regan, who was in a relationship with Gavin Lucas, had a son who they named Raleigh.

“Yes, I’m looking forward to this year’s family reunion coming later this summer, so I can see the new additions,” he said, recalling how happy their family was at previous reunions.

“She told me you were good people, loyal and upstanding, despite what’s being said in the media,” Amber continued.

Brandon sighed heavily. He flattened his palms on his thighs and looked across the room to the sage green painted walls and the newest painting of a ballerina Bailey had sent him by an artist named Evangeline. When it had first arrived Brandon wondered why his sister had sent it to him, but then he hung it in the exact spot that Bailey instructed and he realized it was perfect. The colors, the fluidity of the dancer, it was peaceful and showed strength at the same time. He liked it more than he thought he would. Something else he needed to tell Bailey she was right about.

“The media prints what it wants. It sensationalizes what it needs to get more circulation and more ratings. The bottom line is money. I know because my uncles own a media and entertainment corporation. I respect and detest it at the same time,” he told her.

“I’ll apologize now for asking someone else about you instead of just confronting you myself. But I needed to know if the guy that was so quickly filling a space inside my head and my…I just needed to know,” she said.

Her hands were in her lap, fingers clasping and then releasing. Brandon did not talk about his family with anyone. He did not share their personal business, good or bad. Still, he reached over to take one of Amber’s hands in his. Then he looked at her.

“We’re not murderers or sexual perverts. Someone is attacking the family reputation and now, us, personally. They’re out for revenge and we’re determined to stop them,” he told her.

“Oh,” was her only response.

“That attack on my dad’s house tonight, it was intentional. She or he, we don’t know which one yet, but they want to scare him. To intimidate and destroy him.”

“Why?” she asked.

Brandon didn’t know how to say it. He hadn’t had to speak about this to anyone except the people that loved all involved unconditionally. There was a sort of safety net inside families. It was the promise that no matter what was done or said, that a person would be loved and accepted, no matter what. Isn’t that what they’d done with Uncle Henry, Uncle Bernard and his father? The children despised what the three brothers had done, all of them sleeping with the same woman. And then trying to conceal the fact that this woman had a child. It was despicable and so unlike what the Donovans had been taught. Yet they’d done it and still, Brandon loved his father and would protect him with his own life if need be.

Telling this to Amber was opening the door to judgement, disdain, and hatred. It could go bad in a matter of seconds. Still, he spoke in a low tone, confessing everything that his uncles and father had done and what the price was that the family would ultimately pay for their mistake.

“Wow,” was her next response. “Just, wow,” she added.

“I know. This isn’t something you hear about every day. It’s not something every family goes through.”

“No. It’s not,” she told him.

Then she turned slightly to fully face him, her free hand going to his thigh. “At the same time, it’s no different than what others go through. I mean, sure the circumstances, the set-up of the whole sordid tale, those things change and blend differently. But in the end it’s still the same old drama that large families, even large rich families, tend to go through at some point. I could tell you my own family stories as I’m sure your next door neighbor and probably your barber could to.”

Brandon simply stared at her for a few seconds, words swirling around in his mind while a slow thumping vibrated in his chest. He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles, keeping his gaze locked on hers.

“Now who’s saying all the right things,” he said, smiling slowly at her.

She had no idea what she’d just done by not making him and his family feel ostracized by the story he’d told. Wasn’t that what his uncles and father had feared all along, that the world would view them differently if they knew about this misstep? But Amber hadn’t. And right now, she was all that mattered to Brandon.

“I don’t do it to impress,” she joked with him.

He leaned in then and kissed her lips lightly at first. Then once again, holding the contact a little longer. The next time, he touched his tongue to her lips and when she opened her mouth to welcome his, Brandon moaned.

And then he undressed her.

#

Only when he was alone did Brandon allow himself to think of her this way. In public with these thoughts would have proved way too embarrassing for a grown man.

While he’d crossed the room to close and lock the door, she lay back on the bed, her gorgeous complexion only a slight contrast to the beige comforter and pillow set. Her hair, all curly and wild framed her pretty face and with eyes alight with desire held his gaze. Brandon pulled his shirt from the waist of his pants, working it up and over his head before tossing it onto the floor. He bent down to remove his shoes, then stood to discard his pants and boxer briefs before coming to stand at the side of the bed.

She turned to him immediately taking his length in her hands and stroked him slowly. It would have felt more like sweet torture if he didn’t have the pleasure of watching her tongue peek through, sliding over her lips in an action that both flattered and enticed him. Her lighter complexioned hands against his brown skin was mesmerizing, the quick and lethal waves of desire winding up his spine intoxicating. He reached out a hand, burying his fingers in her hair, loving the soft, springy feel of the curls against him.

“Do you like what you see?” he asked, his voice so gruff it barely sounded like his own.

“I like how you feel,” she admitted. “So hot and hard.”

She was stroking him then, from a steady grip at his base, to the flick of her thumb over the crest of his dick. He gritted his teeth in an effort to hold back the moan that rumbled in his chest.

“Only for you,” he told her. “I look at you and I want. I need.”

It was insane and yet it seemed so natural, so engrained in the person that he never knew he was and the woman that had come so suddenly into his life. Brandon could say he’d never felt this aroused before, that no woman had ever made him ‘need’ them like this, but it wouldn’t quite cover what he was feeling at this moment. He let his hand fall from her hair to trace the line of her jaw, tilting her head so that she was now looking up at him.

“I need to be inside you,” he said slowly, their gazes locked as some silent acknowledgement was made.

“I need you inside me,” she whispered in response.

He let his fingers slide slowly down her neck to the soft skin of her breasts. He circled a dark nipple, loving the way it sprang immediately to attention at his tutelage. She arched back slightly, still stroking his length with a maddening rhythm. Brandon used both his hands now, holding her breasts in each palm, gripping them until she gasped.

“When I see you overflowing in my hands I want to bury my face between the plushness. I need to feel you all around me and inhale your scent.” Brandon didn’t know why he was saying these things. He’d never said them before, never even thought of saying them to a woman. But this was unchartered territory. He could admit that to himself now. Everything he did or said with and to this woman was new and in some ways enlightening to him.

“Take what you want,” she told him. “Please.”

It was an invitation and music to his ears. He didn’t want her hand to stop stroking him, but he needed his mouth on her more. So he adjusted them slightly, until he was now on the bed beside her, his head lowering to her breasts. With them in his hands once more he nuzzled the globes until both nipples rubbed along his cheeks, his tongue stroking over the smooth skin. She gripped the back of his head, holding him there, feeding him as he gorged.

His kisses moved lower while his hands stayed on her breasts. Down her torso, over her stomach, delving into her navel. He couldn’t get enough of her. She smelled like sunshine, flowers and rain, all rolled into one. Fresh, delightful, irresistible. When his hands moved down to grip her hips, Brandon dropped a kiss over her closely shaved mound. She trembled beneath him. He kissed her there again, then moved slightly to lay his cheek against her warmth.  She touched the back of his head softly as he stay there, still and engulfed by overwhelming emotion for a time.

When Brandon moved next it was to whisper over her plump folds, “Delectable.”

She spread her legs wider and Brandon parted her until the taut bud of her clitoris was only inches away. His mouth watered and he licked her there without delay. He licked once, then twice and then because desire was rumbling around inside of him like a brewing storm, Brandon slipped a finger into her, thrusting in and out as his mouth continued to work over her tender flesh.