Ice In His Veins
Ice In His Veins
Tressie Lockwood
Ice In His Veins
Copyright © July 2017, Tressie Lockwood
No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express written permission from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.
This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story line are created from the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.
Contents
Also by Tressie Lockwood
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
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
About the Author
Also by Tressie Lockwood
Also by Tressie Lockwood
The Marquette Family Series
Creed
Damen
Stefan
Duke
www.tressielockwood.com
Chapter 1
“Your two o’clock is here.”
Arik glanced up to find his secretary standing in the doorway to his office. As always, his desire for her simmered to the surface. Today, she wore a dress that while not revealing, it accentuated all her delicious curves and drove him crazy. Her shapely figure brought to mind how much he wanted to touch her every time she entered the room. Perhaps he should reschedule the two o’clock and just have her on his desk.
“Arik? Are you listening?” He heard the censure in her tone and knew she’d guessed his thoughts. Sometimes she complained that he thought of her only as a body to satisfy his needs. Was it his fault she was so beautiful with her smooth mocha skin? He didn’t give in to temptation when she leaned over his desk, pointing out where he needed to sign papers and sticking out that juicy rear that drew his hands.
She spoke his name, and he dragged his thoughts back to the task at hand. “Send him in. Wait, you didn’t give me a name. Who is it?”
Chevelle was an excellent secretary in addition to satisfying him in bed. He trusted her implicitly in work affairs. Normally, she gave him a complete folder of information on the person he was meeting. When she didn’t, it meant he had met with the person before, but she would give him a name. She neglected both this time.
The door closed behind her and opened again a few seconds later. A man he had never met before but who looked strangely familiar stepped into his office. At about six foot two with a stiff bearing and a proud look in his blue eyes, he appeared to be in his early sixties. His blond hair mixed with gray had been cut in a severe style. It gave Arik the impression of a man who didn’t tolerate a lot of foolishness. At the same time when he set his gaze on Arik, the look softened. Arik must have imagined seeing affection in the look, especially since he had never met the man.
“Mr….” Arik held out a hand as his visitor approached, leaning heavily on a cane.
The older man smiled and offered his own hand in response. “Reinhart Johansson.”
Arik’s eyebrows rose. “Johansson? That’s—”
“Your name. I know.” Reinhart’s smile broadened. “I am your uncle, your mother’s brother.”
Arik released his hand in an instant and straightened. He deepened his tone of voice. “What can I do for you, Mr. Johansson?”
Reinhart frowned. “You disappoint me, Arik. I thought I would get a warmer response than this. I said I am your uncle. We are blood, and I hoped to get to know you better now that I am here in America.”
“Not interested.” Arik sat down without inviting Reinhart to do the same. “I keep a very busy schedule, and I need to have a discussion with my secretary about wasting my time. If you’ll excuse me…”
Reinhart sat down and folded one slender leg over the other. Arik noticed his clothing for the first time. Dressed in a charcoal gray suit and tie, he didn’t appear to be hurting for cash. The suit looked tailor made or close to it. Arik wasn’t impressed. In his line of work, he met with millionaires now and then. While he wasn’t one himself, he was very comfortable. His house and car were paid for, and he had plenty of money in the bank. Reinhart from the looks of him had much more.
“I just bought a house here,” Reinhart continued as if Arik hadn’t spoken. “I’m going to throw a housewarming party. I’d like you to come.”
“No, thanks.”
“Are you involved with anyone? I don’t see a ring on your finger. You can bring a friend if you like, or I can provide entertainment.”
Arik stared. Reinhart couldn’t be implying what he thought he was, but then why wouldn’t he be? A few of Arik’s clients had requested “special considerations” while they were in town for business. Arik never agreed to provide such things as call girls.
Despite himself, curiosity rose in him. “How long have you been here?”
Reinhart waved a hand. “This time a week, but I’ve visited often, always for pleasure. I have a mind to expand my business here in a more direct way, perhaps through you, my nephew.”
“Don’t bother trying to soften me with talk of family ties. I don’t know you, and I don’t wish to know you. Further, I don’t conduct business based on familial connections. Perhaps you should try your spiel on someone likely to fall for it.”
Reinhart grinned. “On one of your brothers?”
A cold chill raced over Arik’s spine. He froze, saying nothing. Meanwhile, Reinhart wore an expression of triumph, damn him. Arik wanted to knock his teeth down his throat, but he didn’t make violence a habit.
“That’s right,” Reinhart said.
The door opened to admit Chevelle. She made no apologies about listening in, which didn’t bother him either. Walking around his desk, she moved with easy grace and leaned against the windowsill at his rear.
“I’ve made contact with your brothers,” Reinhart told him.
Chevelle gasped. “What do you mean his brothers? Arik doesn’t have any family.”
Reinhart glared at her. “I’ll thank you to stay out of this conversation, ma’am.”
“I told you,” Arik snapped before Chevelle could respond. “Chevelle is my secretary. It’s not for you to tell her to stay out of this conversation.”
“This is personal. Don’t you think it’s better if she keeps out of our family business?”
“Your family.”
Reinhart sighed. “Arik, you might deny it, but we are family, and you do have brothers. Two younger ones as a matter of fact. I expected you to say you remember them. They are Brand and Cael, a year and two years younger. I want to bring you three together.”
“And I told you,” Arik said, standing, “I’m not interested. The exit is this way.” He extended a hand toward the door, fully expecting that if he had to, he would lift Reinhart bodily and throw him out.
Reinhart must have gotten the message loud and clear. He rose with an expression of abject disappointment on his face. After searching his wallet, he set a business card on the edge of Arik’s desk. “Call me. My visit must have taken you by surprise, but I know you’ll want to get to know your family. It’s been so many years, Arik. Don’t let pride get in the way.”
Arik said nothing but followed Reinhart to the door and shut it fir
mly as he left. He stood in place, hand on the knob as old memories washed over him. Gritting his teeth, he rotated his shoulders as if to shake them off the unpleasant thoughts and turned. Chevelle had moved to pick up the card and was examining it.
“You have brothers,” she breathed. “Wow. I never knew that.”
He moved up behind her and spun her around. With hands at her waist he raised her and thumped her down on his desk. She was used to his manhandling and raised her chin, her lips parted in clear invitation. He resisted for the moment.
“Explain to me why you put him on my schedule.”
She took on an innocent expression. He wasn’t fooled. “He’s your uncle.”
“I don’t have family.”
“Oh come on, Arik. The man looks like he could be your dad. He’s got the same blond hair and blue eyes and that long arrogant nose.”
He flared his nostrils. “I’m not aware a nose can be arrogant.”
She chuckled.
“Every person who is blond with blue eyes isn’t related.”
“And named Johansson. I’m not your secretary for nothing. I interviewed him over the phone before he came in, and I checked out his story. He had a lot of information about the foster homes you were raised in.”
“Not interested. I have work to do.” He gazed down at her legs. When he put her on the desk, her dress rose, revealing the length of her lovely thighs. Desire rose in him as it always did. He rested his hands on the sides of her legs and pushed upward until his fingertips disappeared beneath the material of her dress.
“Work, huh? And yet you have your hands on my legs. That’s not work.” She was always sassy with him, even from the first day she started working for him. Chevelle didn’t know how to bite her tongue. He would never admit he preferred her that way.
“This is the work I’m interested in at the moment.”
He tugged her forward so that her thighs spread wider and he stood between them. The edge of her panties met his searching hands, and he tangled his fingers in them. She gasped and grabbed his hands over the dress.
“Arik! We’re not doing that now. You have another appointment.”
“Are you telling me no?”
She panted. He already knew he had her where he wanted her, and if he explored a little more he would find her wet in anticipation. Just knowing how much she wanted him set fire to his lust, and he had to restrain himself from taking her. He needed to make some things clear first.
One allowance. He grumbled beneath his breath as he grasped her chin and tilted it a little higher. Her lips were so full and soft, the room in his pants disappeared. She parted her lips as he expected, and he delved inside her mouth with this tongue. Hot and sweet, she drove him insane. He couldn’t get enough. Just one more kiss and he would set her straight. One more.
She arched against him, and he imagined he felt her nipples harden behind her blouse and bra. He raised his head just enough to see, and he was right. She was killing him. He had her under him countless times, his hands touching every inch of her form, so he knew what those nipples were like. Chevelle was the first and only African American woman in his bed, and he’d been satisfied since then. Her smooth cocoa skin, dark areolas, and thick nipples defied logic. She was so absolutely beautiful.
It was his turn to pant, but he hid the extent to which she’d driven him out of his head. Instead he moved back to her mouth and claimed it. She shut her eyes, still and obediently waiting. He almost laughed thinking about it. Chevelle obedient? She challenged him on a regular basis.
After some moments, he stepped back or he would remove her panties and take what was his. He watched her chest rise and fall with her heavy breathing. She reached up to check her hair, running fingers through its length. He liked it long and straight and hanging past her shoulders. The way it framed her small face with those big brown eyes and that short nose and full mouth pleased him.
With effort he turned his thoughts away from his beautiful secretary and lover to the subject at hand. “You will not give him access to me again.”
“Arik.”
“I’ve made myself clear, Chevelle.”
She put a hand on her hip. “I don’t appreciate when you talk to me like that. Why are you acting like this anyway? You told me you grew up in the foster system. Isn’t it great to know you’re not alone? Family is everything. Why wouldn’t you want to meet your uncle and brothers?”
He ground his teeth even harder, and a pain started in his right temple. She wouldn’t understand. Nor did he want to explain it with any detail. He had put all that stuff behind him many years ago. There was no need to dredge it up again.
“We’re all adults,” he ground out. “Living our own lives. They don’t need me, and I don’t need them.”
“So you do remember? I can’t believe you didn’t mention it.”
He winced against the excitement in her tone.
“What did he say their names were? Brand and Cael? They sound so cute. I wonder if they look like you. Arik, you have to—”
“Enough!”
She flinched but went silent and slid off the desk. To his disappointment, she began fixing her clothes and putting distance between them. The stiff bearing told him he had ticked her off by yelling. He almost never raised his voice to Chevelle. When he did, she knew he was serious and that she should go along with whatever he said as her boss, but she became so distant he hated it. Chevelle wasn’t like him. She was warm-hearted and friendly.
He swore as she retreated toward the door. “Stop.”
She paused, but she didn’t turn around. He shoved a hand through his hair. No one got him to unbend from whatever position he held like her. She frustrated the hell out of him, but until he got her out of his system, there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn’t ready to give her up, not for a second.
“I didn’t remember until he mentioned them,” he pushed out, and she rushed back to him, listening intently. “What I recall is—”
She touched his arm. Desire and something else he couldn’t identify rose inside him to meet the contact. “What do you remember?”
He growled in annoyance. “I assume we were separated when I was three. As I said, I didn’t remember them until he said it.”
“Your uncle.”
Arik refused to acknowledge Reinhart. “They must be thirty-three and thirty-two from what he says.”
She nodded. “You’ve only ever mentioned your mother, how she showed up here and there until you were twelve. I can’t believe she didn’t mention your brothers in all that time.”
His stomach turned. “The discussion isn’t open to talk about her.”
“Oh, Arik, I’m sorry.” She laid a hand on his chest, but moved back a step.
“I don’t want pity, Chevelle!”
“It hurts you to talk about her, so I’m not going to push it, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t at least meet your brothers. I bet they didn’t know about you either. I have a sister so I know how great it is to have family. Meet them, Arik. Please?”
He brushed her lips with his and sat down behind his desk. A quick check of his schedule showed who his next appointment was with, and he went over the paperwork needed for the discussion.
“You’re just going to ignore me, aren’t you?” she demanded.
He didn’t look up. “I need the Sedgwick file, and a cup of coffee would be good.”
She muttered several choice words loud enough for him to make them out. He watched her hips swing as she stormed out of the office and didn’t jump when she slammed the door. With years of practice under his belt, he dismissed all thought of family and prepared for his coming meeting.
Chapter 2
Chevelle leaned back in her bath water and luxuriated in the warmth, scent, and the bubbles. She shut her eyes and let peace descend. After a long day at the office, she needed this relaxation time, especially dealing with Arik. Thinking about him, she groaned and opened her eyes.
“N
o, Chevelle, for once you’re not going to spend all your free time thinking about him.”
Her cell phone rang just as she got a handle on her thoughts. She checked the display where her phone sat atop her towel. Shawnita’s name flashed on the screen, and Chevelle hesitated to answer. She deliberated a moment and then snapped up the phone.
“Hey, sis.”
Shawnita groaned into the phone. “Tell me something quick to distract me from the wasteland that is my life.”
Chevelle chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Your life isn’t a wasteland, girl. If anything you’re doing great raising my niece and nephew.”
“Alone,” Shawnita emphasized.
“Hey, I’m not married either.”
There was a pause, and Chevelle regretted giving the opening to her sister. She should have been more careful, but with Shawnita, she always let her guard down. They had grown up joined at the hip, so it was easy to confide in her sister—that is until Chevelle started sleeping with Arik.
“Well you would be married by now if you weren’t following behind—”
“Don’t start it, Nita. I told you Arik is off limits. You and I don’t agree about him. Let’s leave it at that.” Chevelle couldn’t resist defending him. “And I don’t know why you’re so mad at Arik. I told you it was my own decision to keep seeing him after…” She bit her tongue.
“After he made you an ultimatum?’
“It wasn’t an ultimatum. Jeez, I wish I hadn’t told you.”
“You told me because you know I love you, and it’s not right.”
“Nita.”
“Don’t Nita me.”