Shade Read online

  SHADE

  A Golden Heir Novel

  Shayne Ford

  Copyright © 2017 by Shayne Ford

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, organizations and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features mentioned in this book are the property of their respective owners and have been used without permission and in an editorial fashion only, with no implied endorsement.

  The publication/use of these trademarks is not associated with, approved of or sponsored by the trademarks owners.

  This book is for entertainment purposes only. The author and publisher disclaim any and all responsibility for any liability, loss, or risk, personal or otherwise, incurred as a consequence, directly or indirectly in relation to this book.

  This book is intended for mature audiences only.

  Written by Shayne Ford

  www.shayneford.com

  Twitter:@ShayneFordBooks

  Cover design by Shayne Ford

  The image on the cover is a licensed stock photo, and it is used for illustrative purposes, any person who may be depicted on, is a model.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Also by Shayne Ford

  About the Author

  1

  TARA

  “Fucking piece of shit,” I mumble, tapping my phone with my forefinger one last time before I give up, turn my cell off, and glance away.

  Clenching my teeth, I make an effort not to think about him. It’s pointless and ridiculous. Besides, I’m not going to find the answer tonight.

  Grappling with tension, I let out a frustrated sigh, and start staring at the panoramic view.

  The mesmerizing lights of Seattle glimmer softly in the distance, distracting me for a moment, a warm breeze sweeping the terrace, bringing in the scent of leaves and moist ground, a reminder that the summer is about to end in a few short weeks.

  A chorus of muted voices and muffled music drifts from the upper level. The party must be in full swing by now.

  “What a fucking jerk,” I murmur to myself, unable to let go, still having a hard time to process what he did to me.

  “He doesn’t know.”

  A raspy voice layered with a husky, nasal tone resonates in the darkness, vibrating through the evening air. The voice of someone used to getting what he wants.

  I spin around, scanning the deserted terrace with an anxious, sweeping gaze.

  Cloaked in darkness, a tall, athletic man looks at me, his back propped against the concrete railing, his face briefly lit up by the glowing end of his cigarette.

  A few blonde bangs drape over his eyes.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask.

  “The man who stood you up…” he continues unfazed before he takes another drag off his cigarette.

  The orange dot glows brightly one more time before he straightens his back, flicks his cigarette over the handrail, stuffs his hands into his pockets, and swaggers to me.

  Slow-paced strides bring him closer.

  He pulls to a smooth stop a moment later, mere inches away from me, not a twitch or hesitation in his body, his muscular frame towering over me, his broad shoulders highlighted by the silver moonlight cascading from above.

  A crisp, dressy, white shirt, unbuttoned at the neckline, showcases his muscular neck, painting a contrast to the dark designer suit. Glinting on his chest, a silver pendant disagrees with the scope and place of this event.

  This is a billion-dollar corporation, and with them, it’s all business, all the time, no exception to the rule.

  In spite of a friendly atmosphere, a variety of gourmet food, the exquisite music, and the presence of plus ones, at events like this, people do not look as if they just stepped off the runway.

  There’s a reason a specific dress code has been painstakingly lodged in the company’s Business Conduct and Ethics Manual, a bible that I had to study my first week on the job.

  Sure, people wear designer clothing all the time, but they don’t look like him.

  The light spilling from the upper level, rolls onto his shoulders, a thick shadow sliding onto his face at the same time, hiding his eyes.

  “How do you know he stood me up?” I utter, not sounding very clever.

  “You learn. But to learn, you have ‘to see’. And he doesn’t see you.”

  Seemingly, Josh is not the only one who doesn’t ‘see’ me. I wonder how much I ‘see’ other people.

  I didn’t see this man coming.

  “So, you ‘see’ me?” I ask incredulously.

  “Hmm…?” he mutters, fleetingly distracted.

  His hand comes to my face before his thumb sweeps my lips, and the back of his knuckles traces my jawline slowly.

  An undercurrent of pleasure rushes across my skin while my heart skips a beat or two, thudding madly in my chest.

  “Yeah... I do,” he says affectionately as if he knows me for some time.

  “What do you see?” I softly ask, leaning against the railing, unraveling at the edges.

  Smoothly, he inches to me, the warmth of his body wrapping around me, the smokey scent of his cologne draping over my skin, making me hot like the summer night sleeping around us.

  The mellow sound of a piano tune wafts through the air while a cacophony of voices, dialogue, and laughter, travels from upstairs.

  I glance up.

  What if anyone sees us? What if someone strolls out on the terrace, or worse, cares to take the stairs one floor down, and walks in on us?

  I could lose my job.

  I will lose my job.

  And I don’t even know this man.

  He’s not one of the employees–– I can tell that much. And he’s too young to be part of the Board of Directors, but then again, there are a lot of outsiders amongst the guests.

  It’s a big corporate event with over one hundred people, all partying upstairs. Perhaps he’s someone’s plus one, although I hope that he’s not.

  The thing is, he could be anyone. Still, it’s stupid to put my job on the line to find out what he ‘sees’ in me.

  He brings his hand to the back of my head and flicks the ponytail clasp open, a curtain of silky hair, tumbling past my shoulders.

  “You wanted to do this all evening long,” he says softly.

  A small smile brushes my lips.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “See... It’s not that hard,” he says, grinning.

  Running his hand through my hair, he gently rolls his fingertips over my scalp and down my neck, spurring a rush of tingles across my skin.

  He inches to me, erasing the last bit of space between us, and my heart leaps to my throat, frantically racing.

  He studies me in silence, his fingers playing with my hair, a soft grin clinging to his lips.

  What is he doing?

  What am I doing?

  He gently nudges me around before he smoothly pulls me into him, my back pressed a
gainst his chest, his hands clutching the balustrade on either side of me, locking me in.

  “You want things you don’t allow yourself to have,” he murmurs in my ear, and a shudder falls through me.

  “How do you know it’s real?” I ask, intrigued. “What you see…” I add.

  “I just know.”

  A smile laces his voice.

  “Are you that good?” I ask, irony lining my tone.

  “No. It’s that easy,” he says, self-assured.

  “Really?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “So, what do I want?” I ask, playing his game, amused and curious at the same time.

  “You want to feel something for a change,” he says, the truth hitting me straight in my chest.

  My smile falls from my lips as I jerk back, trying to pull away from him, yet slamming into his hard frame. Promptly, he wraps his arms around me, holding me in place.

  “He doesn’t give you what you want,” he says in the same confident, unfaltering voice.

  I wish I had an argument against it, yet, sadly, he renders me speechless.

  Encouraged by my silence, he flexes his arms around me and tips his chin down, his soft, warm breath rolling onto my neck.

  “You know that I’m right. Don’t fight it,” he mutters, a smile slithering through his voice. “I know who you are. I’ve been watching you. You are not one of them. You’ve barely kept up with them. And if I guess correctly, some boss has made you come to his event. It’s not even your job, and yet, she made it yours. Am I right?”

  He’s damn right.

  I wish he weren’t.

  “I noticed how disconnected you were back there in the conference room. The only reason you wanted that man of yours with you today was to validate a life you no longer believe in. You needed him to make you feel as if you belong here and to help you blend in. But see, he doesn’t care. Because he can’t be bothered. You’re into one of those long-term, lukewarm relationships. Your place, his place. Sex that sucks, no pun intended, like a week-old loaf of bread. Work-related conversations in between. Once in awhile, boring friends tagging along. Women talking about their marriage, men getting fat in their chairs. Am I right?”

  My stomach ties up in knots, my mind sputtering thoughts I wish I could ignore.

  “He’s probably off right now, fucking someone else. Someone dull like him. Someone genuinely happy with his shit.”

  My throat tightens, a rivulet of sweat trickling down my neck.

  What the fuck is he talking about?

  I open my mouth.

  “That’s not true... You’re just... I can’t believe I’m listening to you.” My voice breaks into a nervous chuckle. “You can’t be knowing all that. There’s no way,” I say, trembling with frustration.

  “Oh, yes, I can.”

  Calmly and confidently, he slides his hands up on my arms, knowing exactly what he’s doing.

  A shiver jiggles its way out of me me, making me crash against his chest again.

  “I shouldn’t be here,” I say, trying to break away from him.

  His body hardens around me.

  “Don’t fool yourself. You’re exactly where you want to be,” he says, an amused smile coloring his voice.

  Who is this man?

  “What do you want from me?”

  “I want to give you what you’re longing for,” he says, his hands slowly sliding off my arms.

  His fingers trail down before he gently grabs my hips.

  He is... No.

  Oh, no.

  No, no.

  His hands move up again, tracing the contour of my body, reaching the dip of my waist. Without stopping, they glide up and cup my breasts.

  My skin explodes under his touch, a swarm of tingles spreading like a raging fire.

  “Oh, no. We’re not doing this...” I murmur.

  “Oh... Yes, we are.”

  He slips his hands inside my cleavage, running his long fingers on my mounds.

  His thumbs stroke my puckered nipples, igniting pulsing pleasure right between my thighs.

  “I don’t even know who you are.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he says.

  “It does to me.”

  “You’ll find out when the time is right,” he says, his husky voice turning me on even more.

  He starts kneading my breasts at a slow, sensual pace, gradually increasing the pressure until my body starts churning pleasure like an old machine plugged back to life.

  Does he really think that I’m crazy enough to let him... fuck me?

  My thought falls flat on its face as my body starts to curve, my breasts pushing against his hands, my butt grinding against his groin, rubbing the bulge between his legs.

  A groan escapes my lips.

  “I can’t...” I say, desperately aroused, not making much sense as I rock willingly in his hands.

  “Yeah, I think you can...” he says, a knowing smile tinging his voice.

  “I’m not a slut.”

  That makes even less sense as I slowly move my body against his, grinding, so eager to feel his hard-on against my lower back.

  “You didn’t strike me as one,” he mutters, surprising me in a way.

  He sounds honest, although he’d probably say anything at this point just to fuck me. He’d kill my fears, soothe my concerns, and tell me exactly what I want to hear.

  That’s how you play this game.

  I know it.

  I remember it from before I got saddled with a long-term, safe relationship that turned out to be a big sack of rotten crap in the end.

  Somehow, what he says rings true to me, so I let him do whatever he came here to do.

  He slips his hands inside my skirt, grabs the hemline, and rides it all up before he explores the edge of my thigh-high stockings and the smooth sensitive skin of my thighs.

  Gently, he nudges my legs apart and slides a finger under a garter.

  “Hmm... you really hoped that he’d make it, didn’t you?” he says, the realization sinking into me like a rock.

  Yes, I did, didn’t I?

  Like the idiot that I am, I also thought that it would turn him on, not that it ever worked with him.

  “I bet he can’t tell a garter from the remote control,” he says.

  I have to bite my lip, to crush a growl of frustration and push back a few angry tears.

  I start to fidget, and he stills me again, his arms closing around my body.

  “Don’t do that,” he demands in a quiet voice.

  He moves his hands again, his fingers tenderly brushing my skin, slipping inside my panties, and under the side straps.

  Slowly, he slides my panties down, and then he runs his fingers over my slit. I shudder and gasp and clench my thighs.

  Reaching back, I curl my hand around his neck and holding onto him, I slowly start to roll my hips craving his touch against my sex.

  The strokes of his fingers strike me as pure art, making the soft, sensitive flesh pulse with pleasure.

  His hips rock slowly, the ridge of his cock pushing firmly against my butt.

  Squashing a moan, I move with him, my rear rubbing his hard, thick shaft.

  “Good girl,” he rasps.

  Sliding his fingers between my folds, he presses and circles my clit while I grind against him harder.

  “That’s fucking good, baby. Don’t stop.”

  He pinches the hood of my clit, the sharp pain feeding the swirling pulsations between my legs.

  A moan escapes my lips.

  “You like it, hmm?”

  He runs the other hand to my chest, his fingers clamping on to a nipple.

  “Oh...” I moan again.

  “You’re a woman of my taste, Tara,” he murmurs.

  “How, um…? How do you know my name?” I ask, panting, my brain in a fog.

  “It was on the table.”

  Yeah… It was, wasn’t it? I don’t remember seeing his name anywhere.

  “You...” I mu
rmur.

  “Shh.”

  He starts kissing and gently biting my neck, the reverberations of his touch traveling all the way down to my toes.

  I can’t believe I’m doing this. I must’ve lost my mind.

  Everything goes down so fast, there’s not much time to think about it. All I want right now is to feel his hard-on between my legs.

  He presses his fingers on my clit and stills, throwing his free hand over my mouth, crushing my squeal.

  He can’t stop now.

  Oh, no. He can’t leave me like that.

  I hear the sound of his zipper going down, and the whisper of a plastic foil being torn.

  “Open your legs for me, baby.”

  I press the tip of my stiletto on the ledge, the elastic G-string straining between my knees as I part my thighs.

  He rolls the back of my skirt all the way up again, and runs his hand between my legs, positioning himself before he slowly enters me.

  He’s hard.

  Really, really hard. And full.

  I gasp and bend over the handrail.

  “Relax, baby. Just relax...”

  I do what he says, and as my body begins to adjust to his thickness, my core starts throbbing.

  “That’s good,” he purrs, his gravelly voice coursing through my body. “Now, come to me.”

  I hold onto his neck as he curls his arm around my waist and chest, steadying me against his frame, and starts thrusting.

  Slowly. Deep. So fucking good.

  He pulls back washed with my wet arousal and plunges back in.

  “Oh, my God!” I mumble under my breath, my core raining on him, my insides screaming in delicious pleasure.

  He fills me up, over and over again, my center squeezing him eagerly.

  I arch my back and push my bottom out.

  “Good girl,” he says, rolling his hips while pounding me.

  That’s... fucking… unbelievable.

  My legs begin to tremble, my entire body shaking as a sweet, addictive pleasure barrels through me.

  “You come for me, baby girl, but please don’t scream... All right?”