Wherever It Leads(100)

“Yes. Presley left. So unless you’re going to take me home, I have no other choice.”

“Good thing because it really wasn’t a question. I wasn’t letting you leave,” he winks.

“I’m supposed to work tomorrow afternoon, but I’m going to call and see if they’ll give me the day off. I really want to spend the day with my family if I can. I know Brady has a bunch of things to do tomorrow,” I yawn, glancing at the clock. “Or today, I mean. But I’d like to hang out with him some if he’s able.”

Fenton nods, his face sobering. “I have a few things tomorrow afternoon too.”

“Oh, yeah? Work?”

“Sort of.”

The way he says it piques my interest. It’s in his tone, the way he clearly didn’t mean for it to be a lead-in for a follow-up, which is exactly why I want more information.

“Such as?”

“So nosey.”

“Like you’re surprised.”

He glances away from me, his jaw ticking. “Mandla is now defunct.”

“What? What’s that mean?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, it does matter!” I say, taking his chin and pulling his gaze towards me. “What’s going on, Fenton?”

“I didn’t have authority to go in after Brady. There are laws about those types of things and I broke quite a few of them.”

“Fent . . .”

“Yeah. So in my little meeting tonight with the FBI, I was told to start shutting it down.”

“Oh, no,” I say, pulling him in close for a change. “I am so sorry, babe.”

“Don’t be.” He pulls back, the tilt of his lips catching my attention. “I mean, I hate it. It was my mother’s thing. But you know, I ran that company out of obligation, really. Because it was the right thing to do. Don’t get me wrong—I wanted to do the things I was doing. But it had become more of a routine thing than an intentional thing. I need to do things with the right spirit, like my mother preached, with a servant’s heart. And I wasn’t doing that, anyway. Not really.”

“I still feel terrible you lost Mandla.”

He leans back on the sofa, putting some distance between us. He studies me in his way. “I think my mother would approve.”

“Do you really?”

“Uh huh. She would’ve wanted me to do what’s right for family, for the one I love. And I did that. So, by all accounts, this was the right thing to do—losing Mandla or not.”

I shouldn’t smile, but I do. “I love you.”

“I know.”

I roll my eyes, making him laugh.

“What other questions do you have before I take you into my bedroom and ravage you?”

“Just one more,” I say, my body humming at his words. I have to ask the one question left so it’s out of the way. Because it’s worrying me like crazy. “Are you going to be in any trouble for this?”

“I don’t think so. I could be thrown in prison, but I think the government is probably going to spin it like they did some big, grand thing getting your brother back. When in reality, they did nothing but throw up roadblocks. If they try to arrest me, they’ll look like complete *s. That’s what my attorney says, anyway. Once the media gets wind of this, we’ll know for sure. Probably morning.”

“What if they do?” I bite my bottom lip instinctively. His thumb catches it, pulling it away from my teeth.

“Then they do. And I bail out and fight it and I’ll win. I always win, rudo.”

“You won me,” I whisper.

“I better have. Is that all of your questions?” He swivels his hips, his rock hard cock brushing against my leg.

“Nope. One more,” I say breathlessly.

“Make it quick,” he groans.

“What’s rudo mean? The truth, Fent.”

“Love. It means love.” He kisses me reverently, his lips searing mine. “I’ve always known you were my rudo, or going to be, anyway.”

My cheeks ache from the wide smile on my face, but it disappears as he rubs his cock against my leg again.

“Anymore questions?” he asks, his eyes darkening.

I gulp. “That’s all.”

He lifts me in one fluid motion and sets off towards his bedroom. I pull his head to mine and run my tongue over his bottom lip. He growls in response, squeezing the back of my thighs as we enter the room. We’re to the bed in a couple of seconds and I’m on my back, his body on top of mine, his breath hot against my mouth.

“This is where you belong,” he whispers.

“Well, mostly. If your cock was inside me, it would be perfect.”

Through the moonlight streaming in from the pulled back curtains, I can see him shaking his head. “Never a dull moment with you.”

“I don’t like dull. I like . . . hard.” I palm his cock through his pants. “That kind of hard.”

His mouth meets mine, our tongues winding together, and I relax completely in his arms.





The blinds didn’t get pulled last night. Or earlier this morning, I suppose. So when the sun breaks through the windows, it awakens me.

Fenton’s arm is curled around my hip, his body pressed against my back. It’s the most heavenly way to wake up, wound around him and enveloped in him in every way. I lie there awhile, soaking in the feeling of waking up for the first time in months and not having a tick of anxiety sitting in my gut.