Unleashed #4 (13 page)

“No,” I declined,
abruptly.

But he continued,
undeterred. “There’s an annual family gathering he specified that
he’d very much like you to attend. It’s in a few months, around
the holidays. It would present the ideal opportunity to meet all of
your relations.”

“No,” I answered
quickly and decisively, then turned to leave the room. Kara rose to
join me.

“It was his dying
wish,” the lawyer said to my back, still not raising his voice.

“Not my problem,” I
responded, hand on the doorknob.

“You may want to
learn the amount of money that you’re refusing before you walk out
the door.” Now he spoke up a bit, to make sure he was heard.

With great certainty, I
turned to face him. “Nothing you have to say will change my mind.”

“Two hundred and
fifty million dollars.”

The number sat there
like a big cartoon word balloon hovering over all of our heads.

“What!?!” Kara
exclaimed. Unschooled in the art of containing emotion, the words
flew out of her mouth.

“Kara, we’re done
here.” I took her hand and led her from the meeting room.

Back in our cabin, I
didn’t know what to say. Everything we’d just heard swirled
around my head like hallucinatory smoke coming out of a pipe.

“What just happened
in there?” she asked me, her eyes wide, her face caught in a
pantomime of astonishment.

“I have no idea,” I
answered, honestly. I didn’t know what to believe, didn’t know
what to do with it all. So I did the one thing I felt certain about.
I wrapped my arms around Kara, exhaling into her hair, kissing her
forehead.

“This is crazy,”
she murmured, circling her arms around me, her hands along my back,
tracing my muscles. Her touch felt so good, instantly igniting the
flames within me. I kissed her neck, slow and loving, breathing her
in, enjoying the hitch in her breath as I sucked on her soft skin.

“Are you all right?”
she asked me, sounding more breathy, her hands clasping at my
shoulders, traveling down to my chest.

“I am now,” I
answered honestly, popping open a couple buttons on her shirt and
taking her full breast in my palm. I leaned my head down and licked,
pulling the silk down to get at her nipple.

“Declan!” she
gasped, her peak hardening for me, so responsive. I sucked hard and
she cried out again, her hands twining in my hair. Amidst all the
uncertainty of the day, I knew what I needed. Right then, right
there, hard and fast and raw.

I swept her up in my
arms and carried her into the bedroom. My urgency built as I
practically tore off her clothes. She fumbled at mine with just as
much need. Nothing between us, I climbed over her on the bed. I
grasped her legs and hooked them up and over my shoulders. I needed
to possess her, drive into her and feel her come on my cock.

She looked up at me,
her lips parted with arousal. I sank into her with one, deep, long
thrust. Her eyes rolled right back into her head with pure, intense
pleasure.

“Yes, Declan!” she
cried out. I angled her just right and thrust into her again, the
width of my thick cock spreading her pussy. With her legs up and over
my shoulders, I drove into her, claiming her with savage need. I
plunged all of the way in, groaning deep in my chest. Then I grabbed
her hands. This ride was going to get rough.

“Brace yourself,” I
told her, placing her hands up on the headboard. “I need to fuck
you hard.”

“Yes,” she replied,
breathless, pressing against the headboard and tilting her hips up to
meet me thrust for thrust. I launched in, taking her so hard the bed
shook. Her head nearly banged against the headboard. She had to push
against it with her palms. My body was so big, my need so great
driving into her, but I couldn’t hold back. Not anymore. And she
didn’t want me to. Even as I stretched her, as her small frame
worked hard to take in all of me, I could see how much she wanted it,
how she matched every thrust. She grunted and screamed with pleasure.

I kept her legs up and
over my shoulders as I rammed my cock into her, hitting her just
right, her slick depths taking me in all the way, fitting around me
tight as a glove. I loved watching her, her eyes half-closed, her
mouth open, her tits bouncing and her skin glistening in a sweaty
sheen. I brought my finger down and pressed, circled, pressed on her
swollen clit in rhythm with my strokes.

I rammed into her again
and again, merciless until her orgasm rushed up and consumed her. It
shuddered through her as her eyes flew open and she screamed in deep,
orgasmic pleasure.

“Yes! That’s it!”
I drove into her, again and again, claiming her, marking her like an
animal, our sweat mingling as I didn’t stop. I took the crest of
the wave of her orgasm and rode it straight into another one, greedy,
demanding more of her, more pleasure. She gave it up wholeheartedly,
surrendering yet again into complete bliss.

“Take my come!” I
roared. When I exploded in her it was with shuddering force, pumping
come so deep inside of her she couldn’t form words, couldn’t do
more than claw at my back, my buttocks, wanting more of me as if
there could be anymore, as if she could possibly take even another
inch. I filled her so completely.

I sank down on top of
her, resting most of my weight to the side but staying inside of her
still.

“You blow me away,”
I murmured, kissing the side of her face.

She nuzzled against me
and murmured, “I love you.”

I basked in her smell,
her softness, completely sated. “I love you, Kara.”

I didn’t know about
anything else I’d heard that day, but I knew that much was true.

Kara

I didn’t settle down,
not after we had sex, not after we showered and had sex again, not
after he went to work out and I took a brisk walk along a hiking
path.

I might never settle
down again.

What an insane story! I
felt like I’d stepped right inside an over-the-top soap opera, the
kind where people had amnesia, mistook their worst enemy for their
husband, and then discovered that they were a queen of a small
European country.

Declan’s lawyer,
Stephan, had stopped by briefly to say goodbye. He apologized for all
the drama, advised Declan to give it some thought before he made any
decisions, and left us with a dossier. A full file folder of
information about the Kavanaugh family. Thick and black, it beckoned
to me.

But I didn’t open it.
That was Declan’s decision. I wanted to tuck into it like a
tantalizing new book from my favorite author, but it wasn’t my
call. This was his past. Now he had to decide about his future.

Declan came back from
the gym like he usually did after a workout, shirtless, dripping with
sweat and looking like a model for some kind of protein powder
supplement. His chest was so chiseled and defined, his muscles so
sculpted and perfect I had to admit I forgot for a moment everything
that was going on. He was that drop-dead sexy.

“I can’t believe
this,” he said, standing there with his hands on his hips.

“It’s a lot,” I
agreed, forcing my attention back to the matter at hand.

I sat on the couch, the
black leather binder in my hands like a Christmas present. “Can we
open it?”

Bless him, a brief
smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’re loving this,
aren’t you?”

“No. Well…” I
paused, trying to express the whirlwind of emotions struggling
through me. “I realize you learned a lot of crazy things today
about your past. And your mom…she’s not winning any parenting
awards. But you also learned about the present. And, yeah, it kind of
sounds interesting, doesn’t it?” Interesting was a mild,
watered-down way of my saying, “Declan, WTF!!! A family of brothers
and a sister! And two hundred and fifty million dollars to boot?”
Not bad for a day’s revelations.

“Aren’t you the
least bit curious about them?” I asked.

He exhaled, running a
hand through his thick hair. “I don’t know, Kara.” He shook his
head. “It’s a lot to take in.”

I should leave off,
stop pressing. Give him time and all that. But, come on! That thick
file of information just about burned through my hands.

He sighed again,
looking at me. The man knew me well. I didn’t even have to say a
word. I raised my eyebrows and tried unsuccessfully to suppress a
smile.

He nodded in defeat.
“All right. You win, Kara. We’ll look through it.”

I squealed in
excitement. “Come and sit. Let’s meet the family!” I patted the
couch next to me.

“Let me pour a drink
first,” Declan said wryly, making his way over to the wet bar. But
with a scotch in hand, he joined me on the couch and we opened up the
portfolio.

The first page was a
big photo of an extremely handsome family. Holy shit, they looked
like a Brooks Brother catalogue! Obviously a professional photo. Who
did black and white photography anymore? I guessed uber-wealthy
families in New York City, that’s who.

On the next page was a
huge family tree, with lines and more lines connecting people way on
back in the Kavanaugh lineage.

“Ooh, look, there’s
a family tree. I LOVE FAMILY TREES!” I clapped my hands together in
delight and couldn’t suppress a squeal.

“I think you just
spoke in all caps,” Declan wryly observed.

“I did,” I
confirmed. “Look!” I pointed at the rectangles, each representing
one of his half-siblings. “Here’s a brother, and another brother,
and here’s your sister!”

“You sound like
you’re looking at a box of chocolates.”

“Yes, it’s exactly
like that.” I knew he was teasing me, but my enthusiasm remained
undaunted. “Ooh! I love the name Kavanaugh. Does that sound Irish
to you? Or Scottish? Maybe you have a family crest? Or a plaid?”

“I was probably
related to
Braveheart
.”
He sounded so deadpan I believed him for a second.

“Or you might be
British? You might be related to the royal family! I’ve always
wanted to meet Kate. She’s so classy.”

“I don’t see Kate
Middleton in this.” Declan gestured down to the papers before us
and, true, he probably was not related to Duchess Kate and Prince
William. Still, this was pretty cool.

I turned the page and
we got a bio of his older brother, Colton, now head of Kavanaugh
Investors. Colton. It sounded so refined and snooty. He wasn’t even
a year older than Declan. Huh. The math on that one made you wince.
He must be the baby his father had left at home with his wife while
he’d flown out to Montana to make himself another baby.

Anyway. I turned the
page to the next sibling. He had an even fancier name, Asher. Wait. I
grabbed onto Declan’s arm. “Declan!” I yelled, though he was
sitting right next to me.

“What?” He leaned
over, wondering what had alarmed me.

“Declan, do you see
who your brother is?” I looked up, wide-eyed and open mouthed. “Ash
Black!”

“Ash Black?” He
showed no recognition.

“Ash Black!” I
continued, as if just the repetition of his name would jog his
memory. There was no way he hadn’t heard of the guy. He was the
lead singer of a hugely popular rock band. I loved his music. “You
know, the lead singer of The Blacklist?”

“The Blacklist.”
Declan nodded as if vaguely recalling something associated with that
name.

“Come on, you know!
‘Get up, Get out?’ ‘Starfish?’ ‘I’m Outta?’”

“I Oughta?” He
looked at me like I was speaking another language.

“No, I’m Outta. You
know, like,” I drew myself to sit up tall and began belting it out,
Ash Black style, “I’m outta here! You never even knew my name!”

“Yeah,” Declan
nodded, “I think I’ve heard that.”

“Everyone’s heard
that!” I guessed amassing your own real estate empire by the age of
27 like Declan had didn’t exactly leave much time for listening to
music. But, still, The Blacklist was the hottest band I could think
of. So hot, the music and the lead singer.

“I can’t believe
it,” I gushed, looked down at the portfolio again. There was no
picture included on the page devoted to him, shame. But there was a
brief descriptive bio, how he’d formed the band at 18 under the
name Ash Black. Now 26, he lived in San Francisco.

“What are the
chances?” I asked, amazed.

“Slim to none,”
Declan answered, sounding like he wished it were the latter.

“He’s so hot!” I
looked over at Declan sitting beside me on the couch, now decidedly
glowering. OK, maybe hot wasn’t the right word to use. “I mean,
he’s not as hot as you.” It was completely true, no one held a
candle to my Declan. But it didn’t sound true coming out of my
mouth, not at the moment.

“OK, that might be
enough meeting my family.” He moved his hands to take the portfolio
out of my lap.

“No! No!” I
snatched it in my greedy little hands. “OK, I promise! No more Ash
Black! Even if it is crazy that you’re related to a rock star.”

“I don’t see what’s
so great about it,” he grumbled.

“All right, look.”
I turned the page. “The next brother is named Heathcliff. That’s
a ridiculous name. And he lives in Vermont. No one lives in Vermont.”

Declan grunted,
non-committal.

“And Georgiana! Your
baby sister! That’s so cute!”

“She’s only four
years younger than you. She’s not an actual baby.” Again, he
tried to temper my enthusiasm. To no avail.

“I know! We might
become good friends! Ooh, she’s in school at Vanderbilt University.
That sounds fancy.”

“It is,” Declan
confirmed.

I bet she was lovely. I
could be like an older sister to her! Maybe she liked some of the
kinds of things I did? Maybe we could trade recipes and raise our
children together, holidays with the cousins!