CARSON
What the fuck?
How did I not know that Grace was Owen’s sister? He talks about her all the time. I feel like I knew her without ever having met her. Hell, I’d seen enough family photos of them. But my drunken brain couldn’t put two and two together last week.
I’ll give myself some credit due to the fact she’s a few years older than any pictures I’ve seen recently. Her hair more golden than the platinum I was used to. But fuck me.
I’ve done nothing but relive that night in my head over and over. I never expected that the first person I fucked after Tiffany was going to leave a damn imprint in my brain. I regretted not getting her name the next morning when I woke up and found her gone. I have no idea when she left. Hell, we didn’t fall asleep until after three a.m.
I’m getting hard just thinking about her now. The way she took my dick, the tight fit of her body with mine, the face she made when she came, her fucking taste.
I’m so fucked.
I glance over at her as I listen to the prosecutor on the other end of the line drone on about proceedings for the trial next week. I’m barely listening as I take her in. The way her honey-blonde hair falls over her shoulders as it dries into a frizzy mess. The way she taps her pen on the table as she flips through files. Her skirt riding up as she shifts in her chair. I want nothing more than to put this phone on speaker, walk over to her, hike her skirt up over that ass and bury myself so deep inside of her she forgets where she ends and I begin.
But I can’t. I know her brother’s warning. She’s off-limits. And I am not the man for her. I am ruthless in the courtroom, dominant in the bedroom, and completely broken mentally. I would destroy her.
I adjust myself in my seat, willing my dick to soften as I answer some questions the prosecutor asks me. I don’t know how long she is going to be in Asheville. All I know is it’s going to take a lot of self-control to keep my hands off her.
* * *
“How’s Grace doing?” Owen asks me as we eat Chinese food in his office.
“Fine,” I say before shoving a forkful of noodles into my mouth. It’s been five days of her working in that damn alcove in my office. Every day her back to me. She’s quiet. Doesn’t talk to me much and I don’t say much to her except to make demands. We haven’t spoken one word about what happened between us two weeks ago. And I am making every effort to pretend I don’t remember her, at least to her face. Every night I’ve gotten home from work and immediately jumped in the shower to jack off. The thoughts of the way she rolls her pen along her lips and me wishing it was my cock.
“She hates working in a law office.”
I raise a brow at Owen. “Daddy dearest scare her away?”
“Pretty much. She never wanted to be a lawyer but you know how my father is. Wanting to pass down the corporate firm through the family.”
The door creaks open, both of us turning our heads to see Grace walk in.
She raises the file in her hand. “Just dropping this off.”
I grab the file from her. “Did you find anything?”
“Not much. A few phone records don’t seem to match up but I couldn’t find anything more from them.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m heading out. I’ll see you on Monday.”
I almost tell her she needs to come in tomorrow. But I hold my tongue. It will be too tempting to have her alone with me.
She shuts the door behind her after she walks out and I turn my head back to Owen, unaware I was staring at her the whole time.
A balled-up napkin hits me in the head. “Dude, stop looking at my sister that way.”
“I—”
“Don’t even lie. I know you, man. I feel like you are ready to go back to your manwhore days. Finally. But not with her. I told you to stay away from her. She’s been hurt too many times. She dated the quarterback in high school even when I told her not to because I knew he was a tool. But she thought it meant something that the most popular guy in school liked her. He took her virginity then dumped her for his ex. Knocked that fucker out. In college, she dated some guy for a year before she found out he was dating someone else. I don’t even know what happened with her last boyfriend. But she has bad taste in men that fuck her up. I don’t need you messing with her head by screwing her and then ignoring her.”
Already did that, Owen.
* * *
I pull into my parents’ driveway for a Sunday afternoon barbeque. Family tradition is that we have dinner here every Sunday night. But since my brother, Hunter, and Faye had their baby, the trek to Charleston is not something that they want to do at nine at night. We conveniently moved our dinners to the afternoon on the weeks they make it up here. Which is better for me and the short amount of time I stick around.