Kestrel (Hart Briothers #3) (24 page)

“Because you’re a nut.”

I take a good look around the room and realize on the
posters hung everywhere that Hart Transportation Services is a huge benefactor
to the fundraiser.

“If I ask, will you tell me?”

“Depends,” he answers.

“How much did you donate?”

“One million.”

One million
dollars.
Holy cow.

“Did you do it because of me?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have known about any of this if
it weren’t for you. It’s a great cause, angel.”

“You’ll get no argument from me. Thank you.”

“You’re the one that needs thanking. For your tireless
work.”

“You work hard, too.”

“Yes, I do. But your work is going to save millions of
lives one day. And it’ll be in the not too distant future. I know. I feel it
here.” He puts his fist over his heart. “You’re going to think I’m nuts. Well,
hell, you already do. But I think the reason it’s all going to happen is Ells.”

Grabbing his arm, I ask, “What do you mean?”

“I can’t explain it. It’s just what I feel in my soul.”

There’s no time for further conversation because people
swarm our table asking me questions and wanting to talk to Kestrel about HTS.
We don’t get away from it all until after midnight.

We walk in the front door and go straight up the stairs.
Words aren’t necessary. We both know what we want. Outside of Ells’ door, he
stops and turns to face me. His eyes penetrate mine and everything comes to a
halt. When I feel his hands unbutton the halter behind my neck, his fingers
scorch my already heated skin. The heat races through my veins, setting the
rest of me up for a slow burn. The top of my dress falls to my hips, pooling
around it, and leaving my breasts exposed.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do that all
night long. The wait has been unbearable.” Then he brushes the back of one hand
over my gem-hard nipple. My sexual appetite has been inflamed to the point that
I’m not sure I can stand here and tolerate the preliminaries. Drawing air in is
a feat in and of itself. Standing here may prove to be
an
impossibility
.

My hand reaches for his. “I … I need you. Us. Now.”

In one abrupt motion, I am in his arms and he carries me
through the door. My gown disappears in a whoosh and I stand before him in my
skimpy thong. Then he undresses. I would have preferred to do that, but I’m
frozen … hypnotized by his sublime exquisiteness. It’s the way he moves, the
way his muscles contract, how his skin is defined over those muscles, and it’s
perfection. When he’s naked, his erection strains toward me. I reach for it,
but he brushes my hand away and turns me around. One by one, he removes the
flowers from my hair, and it’s an inexplicably touching gesture as he tosses
each one on the bed.

When his lips meet my neck, I want to melt against him.
His hands fill themselves with my breasts and I am not sure I can stand
anymore, as my muscles feel like they lost the ability to hold me up. I am
jelly. Or so I think. One of his hands moves to the juncture of my thighs, and
I lean back on him, sighing.

“Angel, I’m not sure how much longer I can wait for you.
And you’re drenched for me.”

“I don’t want to wait. Don’t make me wait, Kestrel.”

Chapter Eighteen

Kestrel

How can I resist her demand? I can’t and the truth of it
is I couldn’t wait if I tried. Not with her standing in front of me, looking
the way she does.

I step away and rifle through my pants pocket in search
of a condom. Then I tear into the packet, thankful that I remembered. Carter
has a way of making me forget these things. It’s more than difficult not to
just stand and stare at her. Her back gleams in the moonlight and her skin looks
like sculptured marble, sleekly defined, yet artfully smooth and unblemished. I
move behind her, and for a brief moment, press her against my body, letting my erection
lodge in her softness. Then I walk her toward the bed.

“Bend over and spread your lovely legs for me.”

She’s compliant, eager to please. Soon I slide into her.
But I’m too slow. She nudges me with her ass. I have to chuckle. I like it that
she’s not afraid to show me what she wants.

“Patience.” My hands grab her hips and I rock into her.
Again, I’m too slow. She wants it much harder. This time, she reaches back and
grabs one of my thighs, digging her nails into me.

“Angel, do you want to prolong the ecstasy?”

“No. I want to come!” she urges.

In a move so quick that it surprises her, I flip her
flat on her back, spread her legs wide, and my mouth dips in between them. My
tongue does a beeline straight for her clit, as I slip two fingers inside her. Damn,
she tastes good.
Sweet, salty, and slick.
 
It’s a heady combination. I tease her
with my tongue a little as I lick all the way up one side and then back down
the other before returning to her hot spot. Then I circle over that spot again
and again with my tongue.

“Don’t stop. Right there.”

Her sex is ready, so ready, and she wants to come, so
I’ll make her come hard and fast. Watching and feeling her around my mouth is so
fucking hot, I could almost climax myself. Her legs tense, one hand clenches
the sheets, and the other moves to my hair, pulling it hard, like she usually
does. This is how I can tell she’s close. That and the sounds she makes. I lift
my eyes to get a glimpse of her and what a sight. Head back, neck exposed, all
I want to do is suck it. When she orgasms, her thighs clamp down so hard, I
have to grasp them with my hands. God, she’s epic when she comes. But the best
is when she cries out my name repeatedly. It’s almost more than I can stand. It
increases my need to be inside of her. I don’t give her the opportunity to come
down. I flip her over and now I do what she wanted earlier—rough and
fast.

Kneeling behind her, I pull her close to me and seat her
on my straining erection. We pound against each other, finding our rhythm. Her
hot wet silkiness sheathes me, gripping my cock perfectly, and I lose myself in
the ecstasy of it all. But I need to hold back some before I experience my own body-clenching
climax.

“You open up a whole new world for me every time I fuck
you. Come for me again, angel. Can you? One more time?”

“Ah, yes. Keep doing that. Hard.”

My hand drops down between her thighs and I press my
finger on her clit. Seconds later, she’s living through another scorching
orgasm. A sheen of perspiration covers me, and finally, I explode into my own
climax, calling out her name. She sags against my arm, so I let her fall to the
bed and follow, careful to keep my weight off her.

“You were an eager little tigress tonight,” I murmur
against her neck right before I move in to kiss it.

“Mmm. And you were the tiger.” She reaches for me and
pulls me in for a kiss. “You make me feel so special.”

“You should feel special, because you are.”

“As are you. And I’m glad you remembered the condom. It
never crossed my mind. I think I need to go on the pill.
Much
easier.
But I’ll only do it if we’re exclusive.”

I raise myself to my elbow and grab her chin. “I thought
we already were.”

Her fingers trace the line of my lips. “I have been. I
just wanted it spoken out loud.”

“Angel, we are officially dating, and exclusive. I have
no desire to be with another.”

“Then, when I get a chance, I’ll make that doctor’s
appointment. We won’t have to worry about the condom thing then.”

“I’ll leave that choice up to you. It’s not a problem
for me. I’ve never had sex without one, except that time with you. I’m fine
with it. But I do want you to make an appointment. For your own health.” I kiss
the tip of her nose. “It’s sleepy time. We can talk more in the morning.”

“Uh, Kestrel?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t you think we should get under the covers?”

“Christ. Look what you do to me. You make me forget
everything. Stay put.”

I get up and laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“I, uh, forgot to take
off
the condom now. I am a
fucknut
.” I go into the bathroom to take care of
business and emerge a minute later. Then I tug the comforter and sheets down
and lift her up as I pull them over us. “You have turned my brain into mush.”

“As long as I don’t do that to your dick, it’s all good.
Oh, and I hope you haven’t turned
my
brain to mush or my research will
be all screwed up.” She nestles into my chest and I draw her closer to me.

“Good night, angel.”

“Night.”

She is one amazing woman. And I find she not only
captivates me, I’m also proud and honored to be with her. And I feel very
protective of her. As I lay here, with her in my arms listening to her make
those snoring sounds, I know what I’m feeling is deep. Much deeper than
anything else I’ve ever felt.

***

A couple of weeks after the fundraiser, the phones are
ringing off the hook at HTS. Missy, the receptionist, can’t keep up. Shayla
comes into my office and says, “Mr. Hart, that child is about to have a
meltdown.”

“Hire a temp until we can get someone in here
permanently.”

“I have a better idea.”

“Tell me.”

“My daughter is home on break. She can use the money.”

“What are you waiting for? Send a car to pick her up.”

“Mr. Hart, she’s a college student. Her wardrobe is …”

“Shayla, she can wear her pajamas. As long as she can
speak reasonably good English, you can coach her on what to say and we’ll put
her in one of the empty rooms. No one will have to see her. Send a car for her.
But make sure she brushes her teeth,” I say with a wink.

“Yes, sir.”

Less than an hour later, Shayla’s daughter, Tara, joins
HTS for her Christmas break. Shayla introduces us and I do my best to put her
at ease. It’s easy to see she’s shy.

“Thank you for helping us out, Tara, on such short
notice. Your mother will explain everything you need to know, but if you need
anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask for it.”

“Yes, sir,” she says. She’s a slim, light brown-haired,
hazel-eyed girl. Her personality is diminished around her mother, but it’s
probably because of me.

Shayla says, “Tara, no need to be shy around Mr. Hart.
He can hold his own around us Drummonds.”

Her face whitens and she says, “Mama!” Then she turns a
bright shade of pink.

“Tara, don’t let your mother embarrass you. I had to
teach her a thing or two when we started working together.”

“Really?” Tara asks.

“Oh, yeah. For one, she made shit for coffee.”

Tara’s eyes pop open and then she lets out a laugh and
sounds exactly like her mother.

Then I add, “No woo-fuckery there either.”

Shayla says, “Told you, Tara. Mr. Hart, he’s a mess.”

“Tara, in all seriousness though, your mother is the
best. So listen to what she tells you and you won’t go wrong. Here or in life.”

“Yes, sir.”

Shayla winks at me and guides her daughter out the door.

A couple of hours later, my office line rings and it’s
Tara. “Mr. Hart, there’s a Mrs. Hart on line three. She says she’s been trying
to reach you on your cell but you won’t answer and she says it’s urgent.”

“Shit. Did she indicate if she was my mother?”

“No, sir.”

“Okay. Thanks, Tara.”

Picking up the phone, I say, “Hello.”

“Kestrel. Why don’t you ever answer your phone?”

“I do, Mom, but I’m up to my ears in work today. It’s
crazy and no one can keep up. I donated to a fundraiser a couple of weeks ago
and connected with some key people and apparently it set things on fire. So
what’s up?”

“Well, that’s certainly grand news, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. So?” I love my mom, but I don’t have time
for this.

“Christmas. That’s what’s up. I was thinking about
coming down this week.”

“Oh, Mom. Normally I would say great, but right now,
that’s a bad idea. I’m so busy, you’d be all alone.”

“But darling, I could help you decorate.”

“Actually, Mom, I’ve hired someone and she’s not coming
in until after the holidays.”

“Oh.” Disappointment hangs in the air. Then her voice
brightens again as she adds, “What about a tree? I can do that.”

“Oh, Mom. That’s so thoughtful of you, but I already
have that taken care of.”

“Hmm. So this young lady you’re seeing. Is that it?”

“Yes and no. Mom, I’d love to carry on this
conversation, but my phones are on fire. Can we talk when you get here on the
twenty third?”

“So, no changing your mind then?”

“No, Mom, but it’s not because I don’t want to. Believe
me.”

“Okay, darling. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks then.”

I hang up the office phone and breathe again. Mom. Love
her, but sometimes …

I don’t have any more time to think about her because
Kolson calls.

“What the hell is happening down there?”

After I explain, he laughs. “It’s all your fault.”

“Hey, this is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Expansion. We’re going to have to outsource for
some temps, I think.”

“Agreed. You wouldn’t believe this place. Can you come a
week early? I know you don’t want to, but I can’t handle this. And they don’t
want the third or fourth in line. They want to talk to someone at the top.”

“Yeah. I’ll be down. Gabriella and Mom can come
together.”

“Mom called. She wanted to come a week early.”

“Oh, hell.”

“Yeah. I told her no.”

“So, I’ll send an HR rep down to rally up another round
of hires for you.”

By seven-thirty, I’m dragging ass. I haven’t eaten all
day, I’m grumpy as hell, and all I want to do is have a drink and talk to
Carter. In the car I call her. She’s in the carriage house.

“I’m coming over. I have to stop at the rental and pick
up some clothes. You won’t believe my day.”

“I figured something was up when I didn’t get so much as
a text from you.”

“I’ll explain when I see you, angel.”

Less than an hour later, I arrive at the house and see
her in the kitchen. She’s cooking. And I’m starved. I’m not sure what I want
more.
Food or her.

“Has someone dragged you through the mud? You look
awful.”

“Thanks, angel.”

She hugs me and tells me to sit. I take a seat at the
counter and she hands me a glass of wine.

“Do you have any Lagavulin?”

“No, but you do.” She heads to the bar and comes back
with a glass half full of it, neat.

“Ah, just what the doctor ordered. Thanks.”

She chats a bit about this and that and soon she sets a
plate in front of me. On it is some luscious looking concoction.

“What’s this?”

“My specialty. Well, that’s not exactly true. I sort of copped
it from a restaurant and then made a few changes. It’s the shrimp and grits I
was telling you about. Have at it.”

I am so hungry that I dig right in. And it’s sheer
heaven. Being a foodie makes me appreciate the better things in life, and this
is absolutely one of them.

“She looks like a goddess and she serves me ambrosia,
the food of the gods. This is undeniably one of the best things I’ve ever
eaten.
Even better than the wahoo.
You have to make
this for Kolson. He will flip over this. This is way more than a three-minute
passion.”

She laughs at me. “Told
ya
you’d love it.”

“Love? Huh uh. I’m smitten. I’m completely spellbound. I
will never be the same again.”

I don’t say another word until my plate is clean, other
than the “Mmmming” I’ve been making the entire time.