Because You Want Me (Falling for You, Book One) (8 page)

That was my first mistake.

My second was jokingly suggesting we swing by and meet my parents.

And then she said yes—and I realized that this wasn’t a joking matter at all.

I leaned back, trying to exude a confidence that usually came to me naturally. “It should be fairly uneventful. My father will be in his wing, under lock and key. The likelihood of him summoning us for a meeting is nil. My mother will treat you like a long, lost friend that’s finally come home.” I could picture the hug, my mother’s thin arms wrapping around Penny like a python, squeezing the life out of her. “And my sister-” I stopped cold, my hackles immediately raising. Marie was a lot of things: vapid, ungrateful, indulgent, and a professional liability, but one thing she was not was overly nice. If my mother dialed up the congeniality meter to 10, Marie would dial it down to zero and skip right to treating Penny like she didn’t exist at all. “Let’s just hope my sister is out spending money she didn’t earn.”

“And I thought me and my sister had issues,” Penny whistled.

I let her gaze pull me in and instead of shrugging it off, I owned up to my comment. “I have two years on my sister, but you’d think it was two decades.” My head told me that this was all too much, that she couldn’t possibly want to hear about my sibling drama, even if she could relate to feeling completely alienated from your own blood. My heart couldn’t help but share. There was something disarming in the way she searched my face like she was ready to shine a light to pierce all my dark memories. “When I was growing up, my father told me about the importance of hard work. I received constant reminders of how he put blood, sweat, and more blood into Wade Enterprises. My sister got hugs and kisses and if at first you don’t succeed, just bat your eyes and I’ll fix it for you.”

“I’m sorry, Xander,” she said softly.

I let out a rumbling sigh as I shifted in my seat and aimed my ire out the window. I ignored the sympathy I felt coming from her. I felt like I was whining, and men didn’t whine. “It is what it is.”

“You don’t have to do that with me. I know about not being seen by your family,” she murmured. The melancholy in her voice was the same loneliness I refused to name. It was easier to shove it to the dark recesses of me, throw myself into my work, and avoid it altogether.

I tilted my head in her direction, expecting to see sadness. Ready to take it head on and let her know that I’d learned not to go there, but she didn’t need my comfort. I saw the fight in her that had sparked back at the club. I saw determination.

“It would be easy to run from it all. I’m really good at running.” The sweetheart line of her lips hardening to stone. “Every time I run away, like I did this afternoon, I just give that scared little girl power over me. And that’s far more terrifying than anything they can throw at me.”

I stared at her, past the beauty, the white hot sex appeal that first drew me to her...and I saw the woman beneath. The one that didn’t need me to whisk her away to a winery because her family didn’t appreciate her. She didn’t need saving at all.

She dropped her chin to her chest, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “I’m not saying that you’re wrong to feel that way about your dad and sister-”

I brought my lips to hers, the kiss silencing her fears and soothing my own. I held onto her lips, only letting go when her hand dropped to my crotch.

“Penny Robertson, I’m beginning to think you only want me for my body,” I smirked against her mouth. The kiss alone was enough to make me wish I had a partition to roll up so I could have my way with her. The feel of her fingers wrapping around my cock hardened me instantly and in that moment, there was only one place I wanted to be...and it was between her legs.

I swept my tongue over my bottom lip and I swore I could still taste her, so I drew it over my top one too. My lips curled with pleasure at the memory of her body. How warm she was. How she invited me to taste her. Lose myself in her.

I drew my hand up her thigh and the little gasp that fell from her mouth sealed the deal. Nothing else mattered. I wanted to sink my fingers inside her, watch the way she let go when my fingers explored and I discovered every octave of the moans that flowed from her trembling lips.

Driver be damned—I wanted to make her come.

And then the GPS ruined the moment.

“In 0.3 miles, make a right on Cedar Way.”

It was barely above a whisper, as the driver kept the volume at an unobtrusive level, but it was equivalent to an alarm going off in my head. The house was on Cedar Way.

Danger! You’re almost home!

I jerked away from Penny like I’d been electrocuted. Her body went as rigid as if she’d felt the current too, then her face fell.

“Are you having second thoughts?”

The answer was yes, but it wasn’t because of anything she’d done. It was because of my fears. My worries. My time with her had been surreal and unexpected in the most amazing way. But I knew exactly what to expect with my family. Disappointment. Ambivalence. Ignorance. And for the first time, I wanted the opposite. I wanted them to morph into the loving family I refused to admit I wanted.

I wanted her to like them.

I wanted them to like her.

But how could any of that happen when I’d only met her because I was having one last night of debauchery, and the only reason we were together was because my father had ordered me to settle down, or else?

I couldn’t look at her, because somehow, she could cut through the bullshit and see the guy I hid. No amount of money or charm could shield me from those hazel eyes.

And even though my body buzzed from our kiss, my cock still stiff and holding out hope, my heart...well, I refused to even acknowledge the crazy plans it had for me...

I glanced down at my Rolex like I suddenly remembered that we had a tight schedule to keep.

“This shouldn’t take too long,” I told her with a sly grin. “Then we can make things interesting. Trust me, I’m going to get my money’s worth.”

I froze. What the fuck did I just say to her?!

“Excuse me?” she gasped.

I wanted to take the words back, my head, my fears, taking the wheel and driving me straight to Dickheadville, USA. I hesitantly glanced at her and the look on her face made my heart seize up in my chest. Her forehead was a series of lines, her eyes slits of frustration, but I saw the water that threatened to dump onto her cheeks any minute. She was hurting...and this had nothing to do with her parents or her sister. This was all me.

I opened my mouth to apologize, but she wasn’t done.

“Your ‘money’s worth?’ I let you eat me out and now you get to talk to me like I’m just a piece of tail?” I knew she was pissed because she didn’t even care that the driver could hear our conversation loud and clear. She was the kind of woman that blushed at all things sex related in public but behind closed doors was wild as hell.

She was the kind of woman that I didn’t deserve.

“I didn’t mean-” I hushed the rest of the pathetic defense I’d been ready to lobby. I could convince just about anyone of anything. To be successful in my field, you have to be able to read people and ascertain exactly what they want...so you can get them to do exactly what you want. She wanted me to tell her that what we had was special, even with all the evidence to the contrary, like my asshole comment. The unnerving part was that I wanted that too.

I had no idea how to fix this, so I opted for a subject change. “Home sweet home,” I joked, peering out the window.

She didn’t laugh. The only sound that followed my comment besides the awkward silence was the beep as the driver punched in the security code at the gate.

Whether it was daytime or beneath the cover of darkness, the Wade Estate always filled me with a paralyzing sense of dread. The property sat on top of a hill, the architect perfectly capturing how important it was for my father to look down at everyone, judging them with little mercy.

Oak trees stood like some wood and earth army, their spindly branches stretching and pointing at our car. The house itself scowled down at us, the gothic architecture more horror than the whimsical fantasy my mother usually described it as to other people.

The driver eased to a stop at the front entrance and promptly opened my door. When a chill cut through my jacket and shirt and seared my bones, I knew the meeting was going to go really well. I rounded the car to Penny’s side, holding out my hand for her. I expected her to slap it out of the way, but she took it and didn’t let go as we ascended the steps to the front door. On the helicopter, her hand fit mine like that was the way it was supposed to be, her fingers twitching with excitement. There was no tremble of excitement rippling through her fingers now. It was back to business as I fed her to the wolves.

I punched the doorbell and in ten seconds or less, the door was pulled open. Branson, our family butler whose smile was as biting as a frown, stood at attention.

He cut his eyes at me, his teeth gleaming cordially. “Mr. Wade! I don’t believe madam is expecting you.”

Even though I wasn’t looking at her, I felt Penny’s eyebrows shoot to her hairline. My mother was a stickler for all things prim and proper, forcing the staff to indulge her fantasy. It was like some BBC show gone terribly wrong.

“We were in the neighborhood,” I lied.

Penny grunted under her breath, telling me she thought my reply was just as ridiculous as the ‘madam’.

I held back my smile, squeezing her hands as I performed the introductions. “Branson, this is my girlfriend, Penny Robertson.”

Branson shook her hand with more enthusiasm than I’d seen in the two plus decades that he’d been with my family. “Penny? After the-”

“Beatles song?” she finished. From the muscle that twitched near her temple, I had a feeling she got that all the time, but the warm smile she offered him when we stepped through the door never wavered. “Penny is short for Penelope. I wish I had an exciting story to share, but my mom just liked the name.”

I smirked, like I should have, but my throat clenched. That was the kind of thing I’d know if we had done this-

No more ‘right’, remember?

I dropped the panic that clutched my gut, opening my mouth to ask if she needed a tour, but Branson beat me to the punch, practically putting his arm around her shoulders to steer her away from big, bad Xander.

“I would be honored to give you a tour while madam prepares for guests, Miss Robertson.”

Of course she saw us coming. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a trigger that engaged whenever I was on the property, weighing the occupants and the sound going nuclear when a third, unapproved person was detected. It was dramatic, and over the top—which was right up my mother’s alley.

“I’d love a tour! And please, call me Penny.” Penny brought our hands to her lips and pressed a kiss on my skin before letting go. Slowly. Like she couldn't stand it.

I couldn't either.

She followed Branson down the front corridor, her gentle brown locks swishing around her waist in time with her hips. “The house is beautiful. How long have you worked for the Wades?”

He scrambled to the grand staircase, the stained glass skylight  casting a rainbow colored halo around his bald head.

“Twenty five amazing years,” he beamed with pride.

“And how many people work here?”

“Two full time maids, a chef and his assistant, a groundskeeper...and madam.” He winked at me like we’d just shared some inside joke, but he didn't realize that I was thinking that my mother, as toxically sweet as she could be, never worked a day since she married my father. “Madam has a wing all to herself for her pursuits. She runs several charitable organizations.”

My eyes nearly rolled out of their sockets.

“This place is our home and we take pride in it,” Branson ignored me. “How many people get the chance to live in a castle?”

“Wow,” Penny's voice was filled with fascination and I stood at her side, her excitement contagious. For a split second, I forgot that I'd lived in this house and knew every square inch; every antique nook and cranny.

Branson gestured around us. “This is my favorite area of the house.” His tiny brown eyes followed his pointer finger to the ceiling. “Madam had a vision. She grew up in a Victorian, and wanted to incorporate her nostalgia in the design of her home.”

As we all gazed up at the stained glass ceiling, I remembered the first and only time I'd seen my mother's childhood home. My father bought it for her as a anniversary gift and even though there were no inhabitants, the house was cleaned weekly, everything frozen in time. You'd think all that love and care meant there were beautiful memories within those walls, but she stayed in the car while dad gave Marie and I a quick tour.

Our current tour was on the move, Branson leading us through the countless sitting rooms on the first floor only. We said hello to Lauren, one of the maids that used to slip me Hershey's kisses when my mother wasn't looking, and were ushered into the elevator. As Branson gushed about how the elevator had custom hardwood flown in from abroad and the artist who crafted all the carvings and fixtures, I stole a look at Penny, expecting her expression to be one of utter boredom. Her whole face was lit up as she followed every word. She felt me watching her and when she met my gaze, hers darkened.

Message received—she was still pissed at me.

I took it in stride. My comment in the car was a dick move. It was my last ditch effort to regain control because when she was near, it was easy to forget how we met and why we were together. And thinking through all that just left me with a combination of guilt and resentment. Guilt because she deserved better than to be anyone's fake anything...and if I was a better man, a stronger man, I'd walk away for that reason alone. The resentment had everything to do with the man that was waiting for us when we stepped out of the elevator. Standing proudly in the foyer, his portrait glared down at us, I looked up at Robert Kirkman Wade. I knew there were similarities between the two of us. We had the same olive colored eyes that burned holes into anyone that dared to challenge us. His sharp nose was my nose, and the set of our jaws were identical. We both had dark hair to rival our pale green eyes, though his had a dash of white that made him look distinguished. These days the few strands left were white as snow. Even in the massive bed he resided in, his body a distant memory from the athletic one that boomed from the frame, he still had the ability to shrink anyone to nothing with one look. And just to prove how far his reach was, he could erase all the hard work I'd done for the company with a flick of his wrist.