Page 25 of The Bourbon Bargain

She parts her red lips and licks up my shaft before taking me into her mouth. The exquisite combination of her speaking dirty words and blowing me in her enthusiastic, novice way nearly buckles my knees. I place one hand in her hair and slow her movements, placing my other hand around hers where it grips the base of my cock. I show her the speed I want her moving against me, stroking me as I guide her head to take more. She follows beautifully, gradually taking over and making a sound of approval as my cock throbs, the vibration drawing my balls up tight to my body. She looks up at me as my dick pops free from her lips.

“I’m ready to start right now.”

I pull her off her knees, slide my hands under her dress and peel her soaked satin panties down her legs, lifting her up and setting her on the edge of the island, bared to me. I shove my pants down further and grip my dick, notching against her opening and plunging into her hot depths with a groan. She holds on tight as I roughly pump into her over and over, her nails digging into my shoulders and her legs wrapping around my hips as her head tips back in ecstasy. I grip her hip with one hand, my thumb moving to circle and press her clit, pushing her into a freefall of feeling that draws deep, satisfied moans from her throat. Her pussy clamps down and I fight to keep my rhythm until it becomes too much, and I come with a roar of possession.

Mine. This perfect angel is mine.

seventeen

Paige

“It’sChristmasEve.Thereis no way someone as sweet as you can keep a vendetta against your parents today, even if I surely can.”

I meet Hayes’s gaze through the mirror at the vanity in the ensuite bathroom Hayes and I share in the gorgeous Savannah home that is sitting nearly empty thanks to the fact that we only started inhabiting it the day before. Thankfully, we have a bed, which was all it took to get me to stay our first night here.

I survey him as he straightens his cuffs, the movement flexing his big, muscly arms and chest that looks barely contained in the starched white shirt. I sigh a little as his masculine beauty hits me, even more powerful as he slips on a black jacket with satin lapels for the formal dinner. It’s bittersweet knowing this will be the last time my family hosts the legendary—among Savannah circles, at least—Fairchild Christmas Eve dinner. Hayes has assured me that the tradition will live on even after the Olympus Hotel Group takes over, but it is bound to change, and that makes it important to attend tonight.

“I don’t have a vendetta against them. It’s just a little bitterness I’ve held onto maybe long enough.”

I take a deep breath as I pass a brush through my hair one last time to soften the curls. My makeup is done in glittering golds on my eyes with the signature red on my lips Hayes likes so much, both meant to compliment the emerald velvet, off-the-shoulder dress I picked out from Haute Belle in Atlanta before we left for Savannah. I stand and take my clutch from the bathroom counter as Cerberus stretches from his spot on the rug nearby.

“Shall we do this?” I ask.

Hayes drags his teeth over his lip and appraises me. “I think one of my shirts would look great right over all that lusciousness.” He thumbs toward the closet like he’s actually ready to cover me up.

“You said I could wear whatever I want, and I like how this color matches your eyes.”

His chest expands and he smiles, small lines framing his eyes and drawing my gaze. “I guess I can share your beauty with the world, then.” He leads me down the stairs and out to the car.

“I’ve found a few gardeners who are interested in helping us run the community gardens,” I say, breaking the comfortable silence on our drive to The Mansion. “If we can secure the land for the plots and get through the necessary space planning requirements, we can start planting as soon as the weather allows.”

Hayes was so receptive to my ideas when I brought up wanting to start the Elysium Garden Project, he had to act on it immediately, so the next morning we filed the documents for the foundation and created the business plan. We got the ball rolling to make this little dream into a reality, and hopefully, the new year will bring lots of good things where that is concerned.

“That’s great! The more help, the better. I have a few people who helped plan the rooftop garden at The Abyss we can work with, also.”

He pulls the sleek Maybach, which reminds me so much of the Batmobile, to a stop in the parking area near the valet stand at The Mansion, pocketing the keys instead of turning them over to the young valet who rushes up to the car, only to turn away with a look of disappointment on his face. Hayes refuses to let anyone else drive his death mobile and it makes me grin. Something about it being a one-off vehicle that Jay-Z used in the Lost One music video, most likely. I’ve learned Hayes is a lover of 90‘s hip hop, and Jay-Z is one of his favorite artists, whereas I mostly just know him as the guy Beyoncé is married to.

My smile fades a bit as I take in the grand exterior of The Mansion, my family’s ancestral home since the 1700s. It is a bit sad knowing this beautiful property will no longer be passed to me one day.

“I love this place.” The wistful note is strong in my voice as Hayes helps me from the car. I pull on his hand and make him stand in the courtyard near the marble fountain. As a child, I threw in countless pennies wishing for friends. As a teen, I wished for patience with Mama. As an adult, I wished for someone to love me. What would I wish for now, having that very last wish finally granted?

Hayes looks down at me as I stare at the beautiful Antebellum mansion fully decorated for the holidays in white twinkle lights, wreathed windows blazing with warm light spilling out onto the front porch. “It truly is a remarkable sight.”

“Just take it in, all lit up like this. Every good memory from my childhood has its roots right here.” Skinned knees from chasing frogs and fireflies in the garden, family dinners in the Fairchild dining room, licking frosting from a spoon in the kitchen with Mathilde, the French pastry chef who taught me everything I know about baking. It’s all right here.

“It will always be here. We won’t change anything about this property. Your family legacy lives on, no matter who holds the title in their hands. Besides, your controlling interest in the Hotel Group means you can always ensure the history and beauty of The Mansion is preserved.”

“Thank you.” I rest my head on his shoulder and take a few more moments to revel in The Mansion, a building I have been in love with all my life. I pull away and look at the man I love just as much. I nod to let him know I’m ready.

“Mr. and Mrs. Olsen, welcome to The Mansion,” my favorite bellman says with a wink at me. “Merry Christmas, Paige.”

“Merry Christmas, Stefan. Send my love to Marguerite and the grandkids. I’m sure Luke is huge now, and Isabella has to be the prettiest pageant princess ever to grace the stage.”

“That they are. Izzy is so thankful for the ventriloquist dummy you sent her way. She’s getting quite good at it and can’t wait to show you. If I’m being honest, it kind of scares me.”

I laugh. “It scared me, too. I’m sure she’s far better than I ever was with it, and I would love to see one of her pageants. Just send me the information.”

He nods at me with a smile and turns to open the door for us.

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