Page 25 of Recklessly in Love

Now it’s Greg’s turn to scoff. “You’re peas in a pod. Do you care at all that being here is what makes me happy? That I’d rather leave no legacy than one built on greed?” My heart clenches at the plea in his words, the obvious desire for his father’s approval. While my own parents weren’t the most hands on, all they’ve ever wanted was my happiness. It hurts knowing Greg’s clearly never had that, and I find my anger rising against his father.

“Those are interesting words, considering you’ve lived large on the legacy that your grandfather and his brother started. That your trust fund has allowed you luxuries that —”

Greg’s laughter cuts off his father. “Shows what you know. I haven’t touched a fucking dime of that money. I’ve lived only off the fruits of my own labor.” My eyebrows fly up at the information spilling out of this argument.

“From being a PE teacher?” His father practically spits the words. “You truly expect me to believe that?”

“Just because I haven’t sold or developed our joint land doesn’t mean I haven’t done anything, Dad,” Greg throws the last word back at him with as much disdain as his dad had with his former title. “You need me because, unlike you, I learned from Grandpa Tyler. And I’ve made my own money with other investments. So, I have absolutely nothing to gain from destroying this place so you can make money. And using Christmas and Mom to guilt me into coming home and being a good boy? That’s low, even for you.” I bite my lip, pride and respect flowing through me that Greg isn’t taking a lick of shit from this tyrant.

“Fine,” his dad seethes. “Stay here. Miserable and alone.”

And I can’t help it, my anger boils over. I didn’t even grow up with this dickwad and I’ve had enough. I swing open the door and sashay out, delighting in the surprise on both men’s faces as I tuck myself against Greg’s side. He wraps his arm around me reflexively, but I don’t meet the questioning gaze I know is pointed my way.

No, my eyes are on Papa Tyler right now.

“Oh, he won’t be alone,” I greet him with my favorite intimidate-the-prosecutor glare.

Papa Tyler’s eyes narrow on me. “Great, now you’re bringing prostitutes home?” His eyes flick to his son’s.

Greg steps forward menacingly, tucking me behind him. The gesture makes my heart race and I place a hand on his back in solidarity.

“You’re going to apologize for that remark, and then you’re going to leave,” Greg says in a calm, dangerous voice.

“Or what? You’ll make me?” his dad asks flippantly.

Tense silence hangs in the air. Knowing nothing good will happen if things don’t calm the fuck down, I step forward, placing myself in front of Greg, resting my hands on his chest. “Don’t rise to the bait, darling,” I purr. “He’s not worth it.” And then I turn to face the old man. “For the record, I’m a lawyer, though I guess some might say that isn’t much better than a prostitute. But I sure as fuck know how to make your son a whole lot happier than you seem to be able to. So, I highly suggest you take your self-righteous bullshit and shove it up your guilt-tripping, delusional ass.”

His father’s mouth opens and closes in shock. And when the vein on his forehead starts pulsing, I almost laugh.

“I won’t be spoken to like that by some gold-digging trollop who —”

“Oh, I’m most definitely a trollop and proud of it. But I had no idea Greg came from money or even had any of his own to speak of. Not that I would care because, as it happens, I’m also a trust fund baby who doesn’t need her family’s money since I’m more than capable of making piles of my own. And if you don’t like how we talk to you, you know where the door is. That you dared to walk through it in the first place is beyond me. In case it wasn’t clear: whatever power you think you had here? You don’t. Now run along like a good boy, and please, don’t have a Merry Christmas. Because you’re a fucking asshole who doesn’t deserve it.” I turn back to Greg, who is grinning from ear to ear. “Now. Ready to make me come like you promised, baby?”

Greg shakes his head and laughs. Then, he looks up at his father.

“Well. I couldn’t have put it better myself. You know where the door is. Bye, Dad.”

His father starts spluttering threats, but Greg ignores him and lifts me up. The near-joyful look on his face sends warm tingles through my whole body. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he turns his back to his dad as he carries me to the bedroom, clearly paying him no attention.

He kicks the bedroom door closed behind us and tosses me on the bed.

I watch him carefully as he stalks the length of the bed until he’s hovered over me.

“I hope I didn’t go too overboard out there. I couldn’t listen to his bullshit anymore,” I offer. Even though I’m not sorry, I know if I emasculated Greg, the whole orgasm promise might be out the window.

“Are you kidding?” he asks, looking down at me with dark eyes. “That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” He grinds his pelvis into mine, demonstrating his excitement.

I make to return the sentiment, but out in the main room, the front door slams. We give each other a triumphant grin.

“So, you’re rich, huh?” I raise an eyebrow.

He smirks. “Guess the cat’s out of the bag. I wasn’t trying to hide it or anything.” He shrugs lightly.

“I meant what I said. I honestly don’t care if you had nothing. But …”

“But?” he asks, his brows jumping.

“It did make me realize that there’s a lot I don’t know about you,” I reply.

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