Wherever It Leads (20 page)

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Authors: Adriana Locke

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BOOK: Wherever It Leads
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“Wow,” I observe. “That’s pretty incredible. So you do a little bit of everything, basically?”

“Yes, but they overlap sometimes. You know, you see a good deal on food and you can snag it and use it for one of the restaurants. You can take some of your contacts with the security company and use them in the restaurants for events and stuff. That’s how I fell into the restaurants; I met a guy through security that needed an eatery in his new hotel.”

“So you just started a restaurant?” I laugh.

“Yeah, basically. I mean, I hired people to figure it out. I don’t know anything about cooking, only eating,” he grins.

“You do eat very, very well, Mr. Abbott.”

He shakes his head and laughs, the sound pulling at my core. An ache spreads from my stomach to my groin, causing me to shiver.

“If you could be patient with me and not look too far into it, I’d like to see you when we get home,” he whispers. He drags his hand down my stomach and cups my pussy in his palm. I gasp, maybe at his words as much as from the contact.

“You just want me for sex, don’t you?” I breathe.

“I do want you for sex,” he roughs. “But I also want to spend time with you. Talk to you. Take you for a hamburger.”

Pressing a kiss to his lips, I switch positions so I’m straddling him. “I’d like all those things. As long as they all lead to sex.”

He laughs, pulling me flat against him. He arms wrap around me. “If that’s a deal breaker, I’m happy to promise that all things can lead to sex.”

“Mr. Abbott,” I whisper, planting kisses up his chest, “Consider it a deal.”

Before I know what’s happening, I’m flipped onto my back and he’s hovering over me. His lips are twisted into a wicked smirk, the muscles in his arms glistening in the hot sun. My hands fly to his skin and run along the hard muscles. His skin is wet from the heat of the day, but I don’t withdraw my touch. Instead, I trace the ridges of his muscles on his back, the firmness making me ache for him.

He drops his face to mine in a slow, controlled push-up. By the time his lips reach mine, I’m nearly panting. My palms press into his sides, my hips rising to his. He kisses me hard, his mouth commanding mine to open and allow his tongue entrance.

Kissing me like it’s a language only the two of us understand, he rolls his hips into mine. His cock is stretching the fabric of his shorts, rock hard for me. I drag in a hasty breath as he pulls back.

Holding himself up with one hand, he pushes his shorts down with the other. My bottoms are off too, in a split second. Our breathing matching ragged breath for ragged breath, he slides inside me with one delicious movement.

“Ah,” I moan, feeling him fill me.

“Is that what you wanted?” He bites his bottom lip, sucking in a breath, as he gives me a chance to adjust to his length.

“Yes.” I swivel my body, letting him know I’m ready for more.

He withdraws and slips in again in a heavy motion, one that obliterates all rational thought. All I can think about is the feeling of his body in me, on me, against me, and that I want more. Of all of it. I want more Fenton any way I can get it.

T
he sky is a deep midnight blue with a spattering of tiny silver stars sprinkled across the endless night. Streetlamps are few and far between on this piece of highway leading back to Las Vegas. The air conditioning whirrs through the car, the white noise lulling me after a perfect day.

My eyelids are heavy. I rest my head against the glass and stifle a yawn.

Fenton reaches over and takes my hand in his, lacing our fingers together. It’s the most normal, basic gesture, yet it feels like so much more. “You tired, rudo?”

“Yeah,” I mumble. Despite my exhaustion, I can’t help but grin. “But it was so worth it.”

“Today was great. One of the best days I’ve had in a long time.”

He watches me with a look of contentment, his thumb stroking my knuckles back and forth. My lids grow heavier and I fight not to drift off. I want to enjoy this feeling, this stillness I feel, for as long as I can. It’s a moment that, if I could, I would hit “pause” on and live inside forever.

“When we get back to our suite, I’ll give you a bath,” he whispers, a creaminess to his tone that warms me. “And then we’ll go to bed together. But I do have a meeting early in the morning, so I won’t be there when you awaken. Order some breakfast from room service and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Maybe I’ll just sleep until you get back.”

“In that case, I’ll climb in bed with you and give you a proper good morning.”

I laugh an easy, carefree burst of happiness. “You’ve just struck another deal, Mr. Abbott.”

He draws my knuckles to his lips and places a gentle kiss to each one. He startles when his phone buzzes. He groans, but lifts his hips and digs in his pockets and retrieves it. I don’t miss the shadow that creeps across his face as he looks at the number.

Clearing his throat, he swipes the screen. “Abbott.”

I sit up, now wide awake, and watch him. The easiness of the last few hours has evaporated. His jaw twitches and he stares straight ahead. “All right.” He blanches. “Fuck!”

Placing my hand on his knee, my heart lodges in my throat. I have no idea what’s going on, but I know it isn’t good. He doesn’t look at me, doesn’t acknowledge my touch.

“Do we have any additional information?” He listens intently, gripping the back of the seat in front of him with his free hand. “My God.” His head dips towards the floor for just a fraction of a second as he listens to the voice on the other end.

“This situation is out of control. I don’t give a fuck what has to be done. Even if . . .” He shakes his head, the voice on the other end getting louder. “Throw all the motherfucking money at it you have to in order to get answers, but I want them and I want them fucking yesterday!”

I flinch at the sudden outburst, drawing my hand back slowly. The vein in the side of his neck begins to throb.

I feel sick to my stomach.

“Are you not fucking listening to me, Duke?” He squeezes his temple. He’s trying to stay calm and I wonder if it’s for my benefit because I’ve never seen this side of him before. His next words come out controlled, way too bridled. “I’ve been very clear I want this . . . situation,” he chokes, “Ended. I want answers. I want amounts, locations, deals, and I don’t give a fuck how much it costs me out of pocket, do you hear me?”

He exhales harshly. I, on the other hand, hold my breath. I have no idea what’s happening or what this means, and I feel like a spectator at an event I shouldn’t be at, a witness to a conversation I shouldn’t be hearing. If we were in a room, I’d walk out and give him space. Yet, there’s nowhere for me to go.

Fenton glances at me over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m aware of the possible outcomes and what the ramifications might be. I don’t care if they’re going to be pissed. Just . . . get it done, Duke. I mean it. Get. It. Fucking. Done.” He ends the call.

Clenching the phone in his hand, he places both hands against his head. He tugs at his hair, muttering something beneath his breath. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“It’s okay. Really. I just hope everything’s okay.”

He huffs, a blend of anger and sadness that chills me. “Yeah. Me too.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” I say it before I think and realize it’s our ongoing joke.

He rolls his eyes. “Do you think I want to talk about it?”

“Absolutely.”

A small smile touches his lips. “I just . . . I have a situation I’ve been trying to resolve and it just keeps getting more complicated.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“I have to,” he gulps. He eyes me before sitting upright. “I’m going to have to cancel our breakfast in bed for the morning. I, um, I’m going to have to make some decisions tomorrow that are going to take some time.”

I consider that giving advice might mean overstepping my bounds, but his willingness to share that with me without prodding makes me think it’s okay.

“My brother used to say to not make decisions based on whatever problem you’re having. You should make choices based on what outcome you want.”

Fenton doesn’t respond, just watches me with a blank look on his face.

“I never understood that,” I continue. “I mean, it makes no sense, right? But my brother is a doctor and he explained it to me this way once: if a patient is bleeding, you can focus on stopping the bleeding or you can focus on saving their life. Maybe stopping the blood is a part of saving their life, but the decision has to be made with the bigger picture in mind.”

“Smart.”

I grin. “It really is. You have to weigh the risks against the rewards of your decisions. And when the balance begins to tip one way or the other, you just have to find the courage to do it.”

He grabs my arm and twists me so that I’m lying across his lap, pulled securely in his arms. He nestles his head into my hair and holds me tight. “You’re a little light in my life, you know that?”

“That’s me. Bringing sunshine everywhere I go.”

He snorts and lets me pull back so I can see his face.

“I’ve not known you for very long, but I know you’ll do what’s best.”

“I don’t normally get too worked up about things. I just pick a direction and charge on. But this one is just such a mess and what I choose to do doesn’t just affect my bottom line. If that were the case, I know what I’d do.”

“Fenton, you already know what to do. Follow your heart.”

“What if that means walking through hell?”

“Then take a fire extinguisher with you.”

He laughs, but it’s weighed down with his troubles. “You and your fire extinguishers.”

The car rolls up to our hotel and it catches me off guard. I hadn’t even realized we were back on the Strip. I uncurl off Fenton’s lap and gather my things from the floorboard. The car door swings open, but Fenton grasps my hand before I can step out. I turn to see him observing me. He doesn’t speak, but he doesn’t have to.

“It seems complicated,” I whisper so the valet doesn’t overhear. “But it isn’t. Risk versus reward. And then follow your heart.”

F
enton doesn’t speak as we trudge the last few feet down the hall towards our suite. He opens the door and holds it open as I enter.

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