Page 56 of Tied Up in Riches

“Beau’s sister,” Brooke tells me.

“Biological?” I quirk a brow, and Brooke laughs.

“Surprisingly, yes. Nothing alike. Magnolia is only seventeen, but we were pretty close. She even mailed me a few things she retrieved from Beau’s house when I ran away to Thailand.”

I’m about to comment when an older woman approaches. Considering Beau is tacked to her side, I’m assuming it’s his mother. We’re knocking this all out at once apparently. Brooke is standing close enough that I can feel her immediately tense beside me. Seeing a high-top table within reach, I direct her toward it as a meeting point and a barrier for this reunion.

Brooke follows my lead, setting her empty wine glass on the table. Without the alcohol to relax her, I’ll just have to give her something else. “Be good,” Brooke whispers like she can read my thoughts. I smirk, unsure if she catches it before addressing the woman in front of us. “Martha, hi.”

“Brooke, dear.” She runs her eyes over what she can see of Brooke’s outfit that isn’t blocked by the high table with the same disapproving tone her mother had. “It’s so nice you’re finally home. You can get back to your life.” It makes no sense to me that this woman of status is so set on Brooke being the one for her son. Besides the fact that he’d be lucky to have her, the simple fact that she doesn’t come from money seems like it would be enough to not encourage it. “And who do we have here?” She looks at me with disdain.

“Marcus Cole, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much.” I reach my hand for hers and she takes it begrudgingly.

“Oh, right. Your mother told me about him,” she tells Brooke like I’m no longer in the conversation.

Next to me, Brooke’s rage is building. I can tell in the way she’s squeezing her fist next to the bare skin on her leg as it barely brushes my slacks. She takes a controlled breath before anything she says. The girl needs to relax, and I’m here to take care of that.

I pull my phone from my pocket carefully, angling it under the table just enough I can see the screen. I tested the strength earlier, so I know level one shouldn’t feel stronger than a tickle. It startles Brooke nonetheless, and I have to bite back a laugh. She covers the small jolt between her legs with a cough, earning her a confused look from both her ex and his mom. “Are you alright?” Beau reaches for Brooke’s arm resting on the table, pretending to care about her. It’s all for show.

“Oh yeah, I’m good. Great actually.” She pulls away from his touch.

I tap my screen under the table, turning the intensity to the second level. Brooke reaches for her wine glass, pretending to sip from it even though it’s clear it’s empty. I pocket my phone, running my hand along her lower back and reaching my other for her glass. “Would you like more?”

She pulls her attention to me. “Mhmm.” The way she says it and the smirk she tacks on at the end makes it clear she’s not just talking about the wine.

“I’ll be back.” Before she can react, I press the softest kiss to her lips. It’s shallow and quick and everything in me begs to stay and make it longer and deeper. I pull back enough to still feel her breath and watch her face for any indication of what she’s thinking.

“Okay,” she whispers, her gaze stuck to mine until I step away without giving any attention to the other two. Before I’m out of earshot I hear Martha say, “Well that was a little inappropriate given the situation, don’t you think?”

I’m tempted to go back and put her in her place, but it’s a waste of breath. I’d rather give Brooke something more positive to think about. The bar is close enough that I can see her clearly but far enough away that I can’t make out any of the conversation.

I can read body language, though, and Brooke’s eyes shifting to me momentarily tell me exactly what she wants. She says something to the two of them, and I hit a button on my phone screen. It should send a strong pulse through the vibrator followed by a few short and slightly less intense ones. I wish it were my fingers under her dress, inside her, but I take what I can get, watching her subtly cross her legs at the ankle under the table. With one arm resting on the table, she folds her other hand over it, her fingers wrapping around her forearm.

I increase the intensity, skipping level three completely and watching her pretty pink nails dig into her skin. I waste a moment glancing at Beau and his mom to see no indication they think something is off. I know Brooke is purposely not looking at me. I’m not sure why, but I’d like to think her biting the corner of her lip and the way her eyes keep darting around the room are a reaction to what I’m doing to her.

Beau says something and Brooke pinches her lips together, from the looks of it barely managing a “Mhmm” sound with her soft nod. I imagine it comes out more like a squeak of pleasure, and I love everything about it except that my role in this is too indirect.

With a full wine glass in hand, and the next adjustment ready on my phone screen, I make my way back to the table. She hesitates before taking the glass from me, pulling her fingers from where they are digging into her skin. “Thank you,” she manages, her voice both soft and on edge–like she is on the edge.

“Anything for you, love.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder, pulling her tight to me before pressing down on where my thumb was hovering over the button in my pocket. The vibrations should switch to steady, long pulses that I’m hoping push her over the edge.

Somehow managing to keep her reactions under control, Brooke’s arm bends, her hand linking with my fingers draped over her shoulder. She squeezes barely enough for me to notice, but a jolt of need courses through me. The way she’s leaning into me feels like the missing piece of my puzzle. Fuck. “As I was saying, Marcus is brilliant. He can code any app you could ever need.” A burst of pride blooms inside me, and I wonder if she genuinely believes I’m that talented.

“He certainly looks the part of a tech guy.” His mother’s tone makes it clear that’s not a compliment.

“There’s no consistent money in tech when it could crash at any moment. Completely unreliable,” Beau says as he attempts to burn a divide between our hands with his stare.

Technology is quite literally one of the most profitable industries. This guy graduated from Yale? I try to wrap my head around what Brooke could have seen in him, glancing over at her to see if she believes any of his bullshit.

I don’t think she even heard any of his bullshit.

Her eyes are locked on Beau’s as he talks. She’s biting hard on the smallest sliver of her lip. If I didn’t know what was happening behind the scenes–behind her panties–I would have thought she was entranced by him. It looks like she’s entranced by him and his words. It seems he thinks so too as he leans ever so slightly toward her, still rambling on about a technology article he read in the newspaper the other day.

She won’t look at me, and while I’m hoping it’s simply because the movement would break her control, I can’t handle her attention on him this way, not when I’m playing with her like this. I tap my screen under the table once more, maxing out the intensity. An involuntary twitch shoots through Brooke. To anyone else, it would probably seem like a chill, which is exactly how she plays it off. “It’s a little cold in here. Could we go get my jacket?” Her fingers tighten against where they hold mine, damp with sweat.

“I’m sure Matthew can be a gentleman and get it for you,” Beau’s mom suggests. Does she seriously believe her match-making is subtle or effective?

“It’s Marcus,” Brooke snaps, struggling to keep her composure, but I’d be willing to bet it has nothing to do with her ex-future mother-in-law. Anyone paying attention could see that the way her cheeks are flushed, there’s no way she’s cold unless she has a fever. “I’m not feeling well anyway, I think it’s best if we call it a night.”

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