Wicked Gentleman Read online

  Slouching back in my chair, my fingers pinched the bridge of my nose. I let my dad’s earlier words roll around in my head. Why would he think that Gran had given me a large sum of money? Better yet, what would lead him to believe there was a stash of cash somewhere? Perhaps I should revisit the file folders in Gran’s desk.

  “Why is this my life?” I whispered.

  “Miss Brockman,” Jax’s assistant, Ingrid’s voice drifted over the intercom of my desk phone.

  “Good morning, Ingrid.”

  “Oh good, you’re here. Good morning, Mister Hart would like to remind you that you will be meeting with him and the President of the Salissa Island historical committee this week. I’ve forwarded the details to your email.”

  I felt my brows pinch together. “I thought Carol was attending that meeting with Mister Hart?”

  “Conflict of scheduling,” she answered.

  “Okay, thank you, Ingrid. I will add it to my calendar.”

  I couldn’t say that I was upset about attending this meeting. I’d always had a fascination with the history of the island. When I’d come here to visit, I would beg Gran to take me to the Landmark District. I loved taking carriage rides through the brick streets and looking at all the early English architecture. It was a special treat when Gran and I would have lunch at the Orange Tree English Pub and then walk around downtown. Somehow we always end up at Baker’s Art Gallery.

  Knock. Knock.

  My eyes flicked up to see Jax standing in my doorway, filling the space in a pinstriped suit his hand smoothing over his silver tie.

  “You were late this morning,” he said.

  I blew out a harsh breath. “Family stuff.” It’s all I could bear to say because the thought of telling Jax about my father was an embarrassment of riches.

  Riches.

  “You want to tell me about it?”

  “It’s some pretty ugly stuff. My family life isn’t all that great. You’ll probably want to run the other way.”

  “I’m not in the habit of running away from unsavory family issues. I’ve got some of my own.”

  My brows lifted at his admission as I leaned forward in my chair. “My father paid me a visit this morning and I don’t particularly care for the man. He wasn’t exactly the kind of father who taught me how to ride a bike or help me up when I’d fall. He was more the kind of dad who kicked me when I was down.”

  Unbuttoning his jacket, Jax took a seat in front of my desk. “Are you saying that your father hit you?”

  My fingers splayed across my forehead. “Yes, and my mom. He’s a drunk and I am pretty sure that he cheats on my mom.” My voice shook as the last few words tumbled out. I didn’t open up to people about my home life. Until Krystle, Tiffany was the only person who knew all my dirty little family secrets. Megyn doesn’t even know.

  His thumb grazed along the stubble of his jaw. “Did he lay his hands on you this morning?”

  Shaking my head, my eyes dropped to my lap. “He yammered on about Gran having money stashed away and something about him needing money.”

  “Hey, look at me.” Jax’s blue eyes searched my face. “Do you think he’ll come back to your place?”

  “Only if he finds out I’ve got a big pile of cash lying around.”

  “Yeah, when they find out you have money that’s all they see.” He stood, and buttoned his jacket. “Do you feel safe enough to stay at your place?”

  I swallowed harshly. “I’d be lying if I said that this morning didn’t have me on edge.”

  “If you’d like I can stay with you, or you can stay at my place.”

  “I don’t want to leave my roommate, Megyn, alone, but at the same time I don’t want to alarm her or disrupt her life.”

  “I understand.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got a meeting, but I’ll check in with you later.”

  As he walked out of my office, I smiled and tried to think about the last time someone cared this much about my well-being. Jax didn’t treat me like a damsel in distress; he asked how he could help me. A refreshing approach.

  As soon as I pushed open the door to my apartment, the sound of loud moans echoed through the small space.

  “Oh god, yes!” Megyn called out. “Yes! Right there!”

  My eyes squeezed shut, and I quietly slipped off my heels. I tip toed over to the mail bin, and shuffled through the contents. Moans turned into screams. Seconds later I heard the sound of iron tapping against the wall.

  Did she make up with Beau?

  “You fuck good, baby.”

  That was not Beau’s voice, but it was all I needed to exit stage left to my bedroom. Closing the door behind me, I dropped my purse onto my desk. Then I shuffled towards my closet and placed my heels back into their rightful shoebox.

  My phone pinged with a message from Jax.

  Tell me the details of your father’s vehicle. Car? Truck? SUV? Anything you have, along with his description.

  Me: Here is a picture of my father. It was taken just before my graduation.

  Jax: What is his name?

  Me: Martin Brockman.

  Me: He drives an orange colored Chevy pickup.

  Jax: Thanks. I have a guy who is going to keep an eye on your place and your roommate, Megyn.

  Before I could respond, my phone chimed and Jax’s name flashed on the screen. I hit the call button.

  “I’ve been thinking and I want you to stay with me. My reasons are selfish—I don’t like the fact that your father has a history of abuse where you are concerned. If he hurt you. If he hit you, Stevie. I wouldn’t be able to . . .” his voice trailed off. “I’m concerned.”

  The pain in his voice was obvious.

  “I’m concerned too, but you promise me that Megyn will be okay?”

  “I’ve got my best security guy looking out for her.”

  I stared at my suitcase and my eyes darted to my pile of laundry. “Do you mind if I do some laundry at your place?”

  He laughed. “Not at all. I need to finish up a few things here and then I will pick you up. Say in about an hour.”

  “No, let me drive to your house. I’m not carpooling to work with you.”

  “As you wish,” he replied. “See you later.”

  I ended the call and tossed my phone onto my bed. The sound of Megyn’s door opening and heavy footfalls crossing the hardwood told me the romp was over.

  “You were fantastic,” a gruff voice said. “I really enjoyed that, babe.”

  “Me too,” she said, opening the door.

  I rushed to my window to see if could catch a glimpse of her new guy. Long jet-black hair shielded his face. The only thing I could see were the brightly colored tattoos that decorated his right arm. Lights to a white Escalade flicked on and he opened the door.

  Okay, enough spying.

  My fingers grasped the zipper on the back of my dress.

  “How much of that did you hear, Stevie?” Megyn called out and tapped my door.

  A loud laugh burst from my throat as I slipped my dress over my head. “Enough to know that you had a good time.”

  “I’m sorry,” she breathed. “This guy has been coming into the restaurant for weeks. Every time he sits in my section. I never had the nerve to carry on more than casual conversation—until today.”

  I tossed my dress into my laundry bag. “Why today?”

  “Well,” Megyn began, expelling a deep breath. “Beau was being a real dickhole today.”

  Pulling on a pair of leggings and my favorite logo tee, I already knew where this was going. “Ah, I see.”

  “I can practically hear you judging me.” She laughed.

  Smiling, I opened the door. “No judgement. I am all too familiar with dickhole ex-boyfriends. So if you want to get your rocks off with someone else—I say, you do you girl.”

  She crossed the threshold and then flopped onto my bed. “The sex, it was really good—leg shaking good.”

  I walked into my bathroom and then busied myself with
the task of packing up my toiletries. “Do you think it will be more than sex?”

  She groaned. “He said he wanted to see me again, but who knows if he meant it or not.”

  “Well, you’re young, hot and single,” I said, crossing back through my bedroom. “Go out there and have as much sex as you want.” I grabbed my suitcase and propped it open.

  Megyn levered up onto her elbows. “What are you doing?”

  “Jax invited me to stay with him for a few days.”

  “Wow.” She raised her eyebrow. “Are things getting serious between the two of you?”

  I shook my head and continued packing. “No, it’s only been a couple of months. How serious can that be?”

  “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Although I think I could fall in love with Jackson Hart pretty easily.”

  “But, you my friend are an Aries so you are most likely to fall in love easily.”

  “While that is true, I believe that right in the middle of everyday life, sometimes love can surprise us with a fairy tale.”

  Pulling open my dresser drawer, I raised a brow. “See, that right there—you really are a dreamer.”

  “Well, I will hold down the fort while you’re away.” She readjusted her position on my bed, tucking her legs against her chest. “I don’t know when you’ll be back, but I am leaving Wednesday to go home for Thanksgiving and I won’t be back until Sunday night.”

  On a long sigh, I tossed some intimate pieces into my lingerie bag. “Speaking of family, my dad showed up here this morning.”

  “Oh really? Do I get to meet him?”

  Leaning against my dresser, I shook my head. “No trust me. Martin Brockman is the last man I’d ever introduce you to.”

  “Eeekk, not a good dad, huh?”

  “Not in the least.” After I zipped up my suitcase, I set it up right onto the wheels.

  She bopped her head. “Yeah, I can relate. My mother is a real pill sometimes, but my sister excels at being an uber bitch. You’re lucky that you’re an only child.”

  Sometimes I wished that I had a sibling. Other days I was grateful I didn’t because that would have been one more person that my dad could punish.

  Megyn swung her legs off the side of my bed. “Well, I need to shower. Have a great time with Jax.” She stood and then wrapped her arms around my shoulders.

  I hugged her tight. “Have a safe trip home and a wonderful Thanksgiving.”

  “MISTER HART, WE HAVE OBTAINED the license plate for Martin Brockman’s pickup. Currently the vehicle is parked at a small diner just outside Bonita Springs.”

  “Where is Mister Brockman?”

  “He’s inside the diner—alone.”

  “Thank you, Archie. Keep me updated.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  Curiosity had the better of me and I wondered why Stevie’s father was headed south instead of back to Georgia. I clicked my inbox, seeing an email from Florida International at the top.

  Subject: Annual Winter Fundraiser and Gala.

  Mr. Hart,

  Firstly, we thank you for your generosity and sizable donations to our University through the years. Your continued support of our academic programs has helped in countless ways.

  Attached you will find the formal invitation to our Winter Fundraising Gala. This year, we’d be honored to have you as our keynote speaker. To say that we are impressed by your accomplishments in the Hospitality and Business industries is an understatement. We cordially invite you to Florida International University as our Keynote Speaker for our Annual Winter Fundraiser and Gala.

  As you know, the Chaplin School of Hospitality and Tourism Management consistently ranks as one of the top programs in the nation. Our attending students, alumni and faculty would be honored to gain insight of your experiences that have propelled Hart Hotels into the upper echelon of the hospitality industry.

  On behalf of Florida International University, we look forward to the prospect of you speaking at our annual event.

  Bradley Andre M.S.

  Director of Conference Services

  Chaplin School of Hospitality and Tourism Management

  Shock and surprise wound through me as I stared at the invitation. I’d given dozens of lectures and speeches over the years but to be invited to my alma mater was quite the honor. Did I really want to go back to Miami? I’d been run out of town and forced to sell my hotel all because my brother murdered the mayor’s criminal son.

  I dialed Archie. “I need up to date information on Anthony Flores Senior, the former mayor of Miami and anything you can get me on the Rojas drug cartel. I want it all.”

  “Will do, boss.”

  I put the matter of the RSVP out of my mind, returning focus to the next item on my to-do list—an evening with Stevie. And as if she heard my thoughts a message appeared on my phone.

  Stevie: I’m all alone in your house. Are you done perfecting your golf game? If you are, perhaps you can come home and play with me?

  My phone pinged again. An image of Stevie lying in my bed wearing one of my white button-down shirts and nothing else came into focus. Only a tiny corner of the comforter covered her pussy.

  “Holy shit,” I mumbled.

  Her fingers dug into my skin as I gripped her thighs moving her up and down my cock. Stevie’s lips covered mine and my tongue slid across hers. Each time we had sex was far more intense, for more explosive than the time before.

  On a long moan she writhed above me, tossing her head back. “Oh yes,” Her nails bit into my skin as she came around my cock. The sight of her coming undone above me was beautiful. Stevie collapsed in my arms, struggling to catch her breath. I kissed her softly as my hands glided up and down her back.

  Sex with Stevie was something of an addiction and I never wanted to be cured. Oddly enough, the word addiction shifted my thoughts to Miami.

  “Jax?” She looked down at me, her blue eyes hooded. She squeezed her inner muscles making me aware that I was still buried deep inside her. I lifted Stevie up, pulling out and then rolled out from underneath her and off the bed to discard the condom.

  Climbing back under the covers, Stevie shifted and then snuggled into my side. “Are you good?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she replied, smoothing her fingertips along my abs. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Thanksgiving is next week,” she began. “Do you invite your family here or do you go home?”

  I let out a deep breath. “My family consists of me and my sister, Janessa.”

  She looked up at me, her brows pinched together in confusion.

  “You’re not the only one with a less than awesome father,” I replied. “My father left when I was in college. I came home for Thanksgiving break to find out he’d served my mother with divorce papers. I haven’t seen or heard from him in years.” Truth be told I didn’t know if he was dead or alive. I could have looked. I could have checked up on him. After all I had the resources. The money. What I didn’t have was the gene that allowed me to care about him.

  Stevie sucked in a breath. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Although I appreciate the sentiment, you don’t need to apologize.”

  She tilted her mouth to mine, kissing me.

  “And my brother,” I said, skimming my fingers along her ribcage.

  “You have a brother?”

  “Jason, yeah, he’s in prison.”

  Stevie propped herself up onto her elbow, looking at me with those beautiful blue eyes that captivated my soul. “That was the last thing I expected to hear. What happened?”

  “He was involved in a drug deal gone badly—a robbery, actually.” My hands shook as I remembered the sight of my mother lying on a slab of metal all life drained from her face. “It ended up costing my mother her life. The guys killed my mother instead of my brother and then Jason killed them.”

  Stevie twined her arms around my torso. “The loss and the pain, I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.”
r />   “Like anything, I just try to deal with it when it hits me and let it go when I can.”

  “Do you ever see your brother?”

  “He was up for parole some weeks ago, I saw him for what I believe to be the last time.”

  “He didn’t get out, I assume?”

  “Nope.” I pulled Stevie up my body so that her back was pressed against my chest.

  “How often do you see your sister?”

  “A few times a year,” I said, kissing the back of her neck. “She’s a lawyer in Austin.”

  “Will the two of you be getting together for the holiday?”

  “No, she has other plans,” I whispered in her ear. “Why all the questions about Thanksgiving?”

  She shrugged. “No reason.”

  I shifted, pinning Stevie beneath me. “Now, why don’t I believe you?”

  Stevie smiled, snaking her arms around my neck and rubbing herself against me. “Fine, you called my bluff. I’m not going to Kennesaw for Thanksgiving. I was wondering if you’d like to spend the day with me?”

  Shaking my head, I slid my cock against her wetness. “No, I want to spend the entire weekend with you.”

  She leaned up brushing her lips against mine. “I’d like that.”

  “Good.” I fished another condom off the nightstand and rolled it down my length. “Hold on because I think you’ll like this more.”

  “Ahhh,” she cried out as I pushed into her. I gripped her hips and made her take every inch of my cock for the rest of the night.

  THIN LINES OF YELLOW SPLASHED across the room. Sore and dehydrated, I eased out of bed carefully, hoping not to disturb Jax sleeping. When I focused on the left side of the bed, it was empty aside from a handwritten note.

  Had to take an early conference call.

  See you at the office. Help yourself to coffee and breakfast.

  Note the “and breakfast” part – Jax

  My tired legs carried me into the shower and I let the hot water do its job. Twenty minutes and an ibuprofen later, I made my way into Jax’s walk-in closet. A cream colored box with a giant black ribbon sat atop the dresser with a small envelope attached.