Authors: Bella Costa
Chayton lowers his face to mine seeking out my lips and I turn my face, frantically trying to free myself again. If he kisses me I will be lost and I'm not ready to give up this fight just yet. I hear his groan as he pushes me harder against the wall, his hips flexing against the soft of my belly, his erection stiff and prominent and I gasp as my body reacts powerfully.
"Acacia, you have to stop before I do something we might both regret," he whispers into my hair and suddenly I know exactly what I want. What I need. My body has been crying out for it all day. Release! I twist my head up catching him by surprise as my lips latch onto his and he responds ardently. My hands are still clasped in his, above my head, and my body is deliciously encompassed. His mouth crushes mine with bruising intensity, our teeth clashing painfully, as our tongues punish and twist.
I groan and bite down on his bottom lip and feel the shudder run through the length of his body. He spins me suddenly and I'm facing the wall. Both my hands are now pressed side by side, flat against the cool surface and held there by one of his while his other hand feverishly slides down my arm, my ribs, my waist, over the curve of my hips and down my thigh to the hem of my skirt. He hooks his fingers into my flesh and scraps them painfully and slowly up the back of my thigh raking my skirt up. His teeth are grazing my neck, his breathing as harsh as
mine are as his fingers reach the curve of my exposed buttocks.
"For all that is holy!" His voice is heavy with need and it does things to me - Sweet, delicious, forbidden things. I grind my backside against his hips as his hand slips around to my front and his palms rubs against me, none too gently.
I lean my forehead against the wall and growl loudly in frustration as a random thought flits across my conscious, reminding me that I'm angry. Angry at him. I struggle again, taking him momentarily by surprise but it's useless.
"Christ Acacia!
” He murmurs against my neck and his hips grind into my backside. "I have never been so aroused by an angry woman before. This is insane. I want you – now!"
"I want you too and I hate that,
” I groan.
I feel his hand fumble against my backside and hear the sound of his zipper. Frantically he spins me again
. His eyes bore into me with vehemence as his fingers sweep my panties aside, and two deft fingers find their way in, making me clench. He captures a thigh, wrapping it around his hips and thrusts once, hard and deep, holding himself there, breathing hard against my clavicle.
"
Ahh." I feel so wanton. He is going to be rough. I don't care. Maybe I want him to. Maybe I need him too. All my frustrations and insecurities, needs and wants have been concentrated into a tight ball inside me, waiting for release.
He withdraws suddenly and spins us away from the wall and I find myself bent face down over the large desk, legs wide, arms twisted and held against the small of my back as he thrusts into me again. Deeper this time, jolting me forward on the polished wood. He withdraws slowly and his breath hisses through his clenched teeth. Then he really starts to move. His hips thrust against me in a punishing rhythm, the brutality of it matching my anger and we both groan loudly. I can feel the ball of energy, tightening and spinning and pulsing as he pounds on, and I surrender. The ball of energy explodes in a powerful release of tension and frustration. Chayton thrusts once more and finds his own release, freeing my hands and collapsing on top of me.
"Feeling better?" He mutters through clenched teeth, against my shoulder.
"Maybe.
” I answer begrudgingly, my breathing harsh and ragged as my cheek presses into the polished wood.
"Angry sex is novel. We should do this more often." I can feel his mouth smoothing into a grin against my skin. "Especially when you're dressed like this."
"Bastard."
He gently withdraws, straightening my panties, before sitting me on the edge of the desk.
I frown at him as he does up his fly.
"I'm still mad at you
! Mad and confused!"
"Did you seriously only just realise I'm a Donavan?"
"Yes. Why should I have known?"
"Most women in the State of Washington know who I am. It gets tiring."
"Well I'm not most women."
"No Acacia. No you're not." He sweeps a thumb across my bruised lips.
"You were talking to Robert earlier."
"Yes."
It’s a statement of fact but I glimpse a hint of wariness in his eyes.
"Robert, my ex-husband!
You know – arsehole supreme?" I remind him as though he were an imbecile.
"I know. That's what you're really mad about, isn't it?"
"Yes. No. I suppose."
For a long
while, we are both quiet. Me, perched on the edge of the desk looking down; Chayton, standing in front of me, his hands in his pockets, watching me warily. I finally look into his eyes, the silence growing uncomfortable. He watches my face carefully, as if trying to decide something. "Come for a drive with me."
"But Grace, the auction and the speeches..."
"They will happen with or without us. We can call Grace from the car. Come, I'll give you all the answers you need."
We are
outside in the drive and Chayton presses a button on his phone, mutters a single word and puts the phone back in his pocket. A huge Bronze Maserati SUV pulls up and a very young chauffeur leaps out to open my door. The vehicle is luxurious and an array of small monitors fills the space between the two front seats. TV? Perhaps, computer? Probably both, I decide.
"Nice car!"
"Yes, I suppose it is." He says blandly.
"I didn't know Maserati did SUVs."
"It's the Kubang. It should be available to the public later this year."
"So it isn't on the market yet? How did you get one?"
"It's being built here in the USA and I know someone who owes me a favour. It's only on loan until I decide if I want one."
I'm seeing this man in a whole new light. He is a complete stranger to me.
"And the chauffeur, does he come with the car?"
"No Acacia, he is an employee. Rex."
"Where are we going?” I ask Chayton.
"To my home, in Bellevue."
"But your home is Donavan's Pass."
"Donavan's Pass is my family home, yes. It was my mother's," he replies cautiously. He takes one of my hands and studies my fingers intently. "Acacia, aside from what every-gold digging socialite in the state knows about me, which isn't much other than I'm loaded and single," he snorts in disgust, "there is more - so much more." He puts my hand on my lap and rests his on top, staring out of the window.
"Acacia...” I watch his smooth confidence stripping away as searches for words and I want to yell at him and tell him to leave everything as it is. That it will be okay, it's just a spat. We'll work it out. But I'm frozen as a sense of dread fills me. "Acacia, I'm falling for you and it scares me. I want so much more for you, for us."
What?
"I know a lot about you and have done for quite some time. I realise that this is unfair and perhaps wrong on some levels, and I will understand if you want to walk away from us. I just want you to understand that my intentions were, I hope, in the right place and I never meant to hurt you."
WHAT!
"What do you mean? How long? Chayton, what the fuck, is going on?"
"We have been investigating Robert for a few years. We started just before you separated."
I stare at him in confusion. I try to think of everything I've read and heard about C.J. Donavan. He is supposed to have made his money in investments.
That should have been a dead giveaway!
"Investigating? I thought you were an investor?"
"I am. The investigation is a side line." He smiles a small tight smile. "There is a group of people, lawyers, bankers, politicians, businessme
n even a high school headmaster,” he snorts, as if this is in some way amusing. “We carry out private investigations into high level corruption."
"What does that have to do with Robert? And what does it have to do with me?"
"Well, Robert was already under investigation by the proper authorities but someone was tampering with the evidence. The prosecutor suspected that Robert was bribing someone, either in the prosecution office or one of the investigating team. So we started having a closer look."
Chayton shifts in his chair. "You're familiar with Liberal Brotherhood now." His eyes bore into mine again and I nod cautiously. "I'm the chairman. The charity work is only part of what we do. Mainly to raise money, but mostly to make sure that all the smaller charities get their share of the market and to limit the amount of control, businesses and politicians have, who use charities to raise their profiles." I remember my snide comments at the masque ball. I
was
him!
"When we first sent the offer to Grant, the intention was to find out, if some of the money which had disappeared from your business was being laundered through the shelter. I'm not longer concerned with that
,” he adds quickly, probably at the sight of my reddening face. “Did you know that your solicitor and Robert were at school together?"
"NO! Grant can't possibly have anything to do with this."
"Has he ever mentioned that he knew Robert?"
"No, but..."
This can't be happening
.
"Acacia, don't worry about it. It's just an angle we are checking out."
"So the shelter, you were using me?” I ask glumly as the large SUV pulls into a circular drive and stops outside an obscenely large house.
"It looks that way, but no. Trust me Acacia, please."
I watch him warily. "That's a tall order." I climb out as Rex opens my door and Chayton ushers me into the house. I follow silently as he leads me though an impressive hallway and then into a spacious living room.
"We would have made the offer anyway, just a bit later." He pulls me down onto a soft sofa beside him and I sit numbly.
"I had fully expected Grant to make the trip instead of you. When I found you lying cold and pale and only half dressed in the snow, I was angry.” It was almost a whisper. "You were so beautiful," he added softly. “Drink?” I shake my head.
"I was convinced it was all a ploy, that you had turned the tables on me by taking Grant's place so that you could try and get closer to me." He sees my annoyed frown and shrugs apologetically, "you'd be surprised at the lengths some women have gone through
, in the past, to get my attention," he hisses.
"Then you ran hot and cold and it confused the hell out of me," he looked at me
warily, "and made me more attracted to you. When I discovered just how dysfunctional your relationship with Robert had been, I started feeling protective. Very protective. I was – still am – unaccustomed to these feelings. I couldn't trust myself or bring myself to trust your motives."
Mistrust, I can relate to that.
I stare at his face blankly. It's a hot, sexy, beautiful face, but the face of a stranger.
"How did Liberal Brotherhood come about?" I ask
needing a few minutes of emotion-free conversation. He sits back and runs his fingers through his hair.
"A few years ago, I was going through a period of, well...self discovery and upheaval. At about the same time, I had become aware of some pretty
high-level corruption and coercion in the local government. I wanted to do something about it, but frankly didn't know what, and my reflective stock take, wasn't helping." I watch the profile of his chiselled face as he gazes unseeing across the room while he talks.
"One night I pulled into a rural bikers bar, hoping to get thoroughly drunk without being recognised. Liberal Brotherhood were having their secret gathering. They
...we...moonlight as bikers for anonymity but back then they were just a small private club of modern day 'men in tights' At the time their main purpose was purely charitable - a sort of all-year-round Secret Santa. I was invited to join the club, which had apparently been running for three generations, before long I had become their chairperson. I realised that between us we had just the right talent to do something about the corruption. It was an easy matter to marshal the brotherhood into doing more than just charitable work."
"Okay, so you're Washington States very own Robin Hood."
I frown
He nods. "You asked me today about my family.
The only living family I have is Savannah and an older brother. I think he's still living."
"You think?"
"I haven't seen him since I was ten. He left home to join the army and never returned."
"Do you think he ...?"
"No, he didn't die in service," he scoffed. "A birthday card still arrives for my mother every year. The post mark is always different."
"He doesn't know your mother has passed?" I gasp in horror. "That's terrible!"