The Virgin: Revenge (11 page)

He pressed his mouth to my neck. “Come home with me.”

“That wouldn’t be wise,” I said softly.

His hands slid my skirt up. “Why not?”

“It just wouldn’t.” He slid his fingers inside the waistband of my panties and my knees

buckled. “Drake—”

“You went back to calling me Mr. Gallagher all fucking day,” he whispered, his lips

against my ear. “Are you going to call me Mr. Gallagher when I’m fucking you?”

“You…” My mouth was terribly dry. “You can’t--”

The rasping of his zipper was terribly loud. “I can. And unless you say no, I’m going

to.”

His hand urged me forward and I found myself bent down, face forward over the desk.

“Yes or no, Shan,” he said and I felt his hands on my ass, spreading me.

Turning my head, I caught sight of us in the treated glass. As dark it was, it had turned

the glass to a dark mirror and I could see him, the way he looked at me, the way he watched

me.

“Yes.”

“Yes,” he muttered, his voice guttural. Then it was a snarl as he pushed the fat, rounded

head against me. He slid a hand up my spine, closed it around my neck and kept it there,

holding me face down. It was the most erotic sensation—I was trapped by him, surrounded by

him as he fucked me and I loved it. “So fucking wet. So fucking hot. I’m not wearing a

condom. I don’t want one between us—I don’t want
anything
between us. Tell me you don’t,

either.”

My knees trembled and the muscles in my pussy clenched around him. “I don’t want

the condom.”

He was asking for more. But that was all I could give him.

The hand on the back of my neck tightened. “Tell me you want me.”

Closing my eyes against the tableau playing out in front of me, I pressed my face to the

cool wood of my desk. “I want you.”
I’ll always want you
.

And it was nothing more than the truth. But this was all I’d give myself.

He gave me one inch, then withdrew. Slowly, so very slowly. Fed me that inch again,

and another, as one handon my hip held me still and kept me from moving back on him. I

wanted to ride him—the instinct to do just that rose inside me, but his hold prevented me and I

twisted, uselessly, straining against him.

“Mine…” The word came from him on a groan as he withdrew again, and then surged

deeper. It was a slow, thorough possession and the strength drained out of me. If it wasn’t for

the desk that supported me and the strength of his hands, I would have dissolved into a puddle

at his feet.

Drake seated himself fully inside me and I moaned, shivering around him, feeling the

muscles in my cunt tighten, clutch at him as he held there. He just held there, not moving.

“Drake, please…”

“That’s what I need,” he said. “I want to hear my name on your lips. I need to know

you feel it, too, Shan. That you want me.”

He started to fuck me, then. Deep, slow, and hard, and I felt each thrust echo through

me, the pleasure vicious, violent waves that battered at me. Consumed me.

That hand on my neck moved away, slammed down on the desk next to my head. The

other gripped my hip, his fingers digging in. I lifted my butt to meet each thrust, working my

elbows beneath me so I could lift up.

His hand tangled in my hair and he half-lifted, half-twisted me until he could fuse his

mouth to mine. His tongue licked at mine and I cried out against him.

The orgasm slammed into me, hard, devastating.

It was almost as devastating as I realized the truth of his words… I
was
still his.

And it was so fucking unfair.

I was always going to be.

But he would never be mine.

His phone rang.

It was one of those calls that he wouldn’t take around me. It was his family, I suspected.

While he slid out of the room, still adjusting his clothes, I smoothed my skirt down. My

heart, bruised and aching, gave a feeble beat against my ribs.

Reaching into my bag, I pulled out the letter of resignation, stared at it. The pleasure

that had burned inside me just moments ago already felt like ashes.

There was a quiet sound and I looked up, found him standing in the doorway.

“I have to leave town,” he said, his voice sharp.

I blinked at him. “Leave?” I echoed.

“It’s unavoidable. Micah Coltrane—he used to head the offices here—is flying in to take

over while I’m gone. You’ll work with him until I’m back.”

“Is…” I stared at the resignation. “Is there anything I can do?”

He had already dismissed me, his attention focused on whatever information he’d

received just moments ago. “No. It’s family business.” Then, abruptly, his eyes cleared and he

looked back at me.

Casually, I turned the resignation over and placed it face down as he strode toward me.

He placed one finger under my chin and tilted my head back. “I love the way you look in red,”

he murmured. “It suits you.”

He kissed, soft and sweet. Then he was gone, long fast strides carrying him away from

me.

I looked back at the resignation.

I’d hold it for a few days, make sure everything ran smoothly as this Micah Coltrane

settled into place.

But I wouldn’t be here when Drake came back.

Coming Soon

Sixty-two years ago today, my father was born in this little town.

A small village north of Boston. I’d been born here, too, and this had been my home, the

place where I’d been happy, until that summer.

If you’d ask me back then if I’d ever leave here, I’d have laughed and said
no
. Well, I’d

leave to travel, for college. I’d wanted to see the world, but this was home. I’d planned to come

home. Always.

But after college, there was no home to come back to.

Without home, there was only one thing to draw me here.

And that was this…this garden of stone. One stone in particular.

Kneeling down, I brushed a few stray leaves, brilliant with color, from my father’s

grave.

“Hi, Daddy.”

The only answer was the whisper of the breeze.

I didn’t really expect an answer, though.

He’d been gone for ten years now.

It was ten years, this month.

Not even two months after the sale was final, my father was gone.

Was murdered. All because of the money.

The dude said he was loaded
…one of them had sobbed in court.
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry
.

There were flowers on his grave and seeing them made me smile. Wiping the tears

away, I said softly, “It looks like Mom beat me here. I’m going to see her when I leave.”

Settling on the grass, I rested my head on my knees and curled my hand into the grass.

When I’d been a child, I’d sit on his lap and curl a fist in his shirt while he told me

stories about the dreams he had for our hotel. It would be the biggest, the grandest place north

of Boston.
Just wait and see, Shan. Just wait and see.

Instead, it had just slipped out of our hands.

No.

Not slipped.

It had been sold, for a very tidy price.

And my parents, knowing how much I loved the old place, they hadn’t had the heart to

tell me how much trouble, financially, they were in. Or how much trouble my father had gotten

us in. Borrowing money that he couldn’t afford to pay back…Mom had told me, years later,

that he was afraid we’d lose everything. That I’d look at him and see a failure.

“I wish you were here,” I said softly. “I just want to see you. One time. I spent too

much time angry with you and I wish I could take it back.”

But it was too late.

Too late for a lot of things.

I gave myself a few more minutes and then I sighed, pushing upright.

As I worked the stiffness from my back, I felt it.

The prickle along my skin, the way the air had changed.

I wasn’t alone.

My breath caught as I turned and without even seeing him, I knew who it would be.

No—

It had been five weeks since I’d walked out of Gallagher Enterprises. He had still been

out of town at the time. I left everything that wasn’t mine behind—the phone, the iPad, the

files.

It wasn’t even four hours before he had started to call, somehow digging up the number

to my personal cellphone. I saw his name and hadn’t answered. That didn’t keep him from

texting, or leaving voicemails.

I hadn’t responded, not even once.

He hadn’t quit trying.

And now here he was.

My heart slammed against my ribs as the wind kicked up, blowing my hair into my

eyes. I brushed it aside just as he moved out from behind a tree.

Drake.

He’d found me.

He’d found me.

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