Winner Takes All (A Full Length Erotic Romance Novel) Page 11

  With her face lifted to the sky, she could almost feel him, almost see his weather-beaten face, the bald head his wife insisted he cover with sunscreen every day before going out with the horses. The smile that made her believe in the goodness inside people again.

  She remembered the last time she’d seen him, just after she decided to accept the job at Taylor Stables instead of the one at McGreevy’s. Marshall had told her to trust her gut, that it would not lead her astray in this, one of the most important decisions of her life. The McGreevy Stables were closer to the Tennessee border and of course, closer to Marshall, but there had been something about the McGreevy trainer, Anthony something or other, that she didn’t like. And so, she’d followed her gut, signing on with Taylor Stables and leaving Marshall and the comfortable life she knew behind.

  It had been one of the best decisions she’d ever made. The only thing she regretted was not being there for Marshall and his family when he had been hit by the drunk driver. She had driven the nearly four hours from Louisville but by the time she pulled up in the hospital parking lot, he was already dead.

  The thought of it now made her sad, made new tears start behind her eyes. But she looked up at the sun again, felt the life-giving warmth and the tears dried. The heaviness gradually left her.

  She remembered one of the last days that she and Marshall had talked. She had been shocked that both Taylor Stables and McGreevy’s were interested in hiring her.

  “Believe in your abilities and in who you are. If you don’t underrate yourself, kid, no one will either.” His way of telling her she was worth every effort he had put into her, his way of saying she was simply worthy of happiness.

  Sasha remembered that last day they had ridden out into the trail. A cloudy day, rain sprinkling down from the sky, a humid Southern summer. Her horse rocked gently beneath her as they slowly made their way through the trail, no destination in mind, simply a day to take out the horses and get some fresh air. The appaloosa under her was a new horse and inclined to buck, but Marshall had showed her how to control her, make smoothness of the horse’s rough nature. She remembered the droplets of rain running down his bald head, the feel of the water on her own face. That day had been contentment itself, a realized dream of peace and simply happiness. And then Marshall was gone.

  Sasha leaned back against his tombstone with the warmth of the sun on her face and a heaviness in her heart. She had been able to tell him everything. He even knew about her brother, her parents, and the hell she had been through to get where she was. And he had been supportive beyond her wildest dreams. She missed Marshall. She missed him so much....

  “I miss you,” she said out loud.

  The sound of her voice in the quiet morning sounded so right, so natural that she said the words again. Then she began to tell Marshall everything. Sharing with him the bitterness and pain of the last few weeks under her brother’s thumb. The happiness she’d found with Damien. Her win at the Derby. The terror she felt at the prospect of losing it all.

  “Until now, I never truly felt I’d had anything to lose. And now that I have so much, I’m only a breath away from losing it all.”

  But as she talked, she remembered thinking the same with Marshall all those years ago, feeling the need to share with him but not wanting him to think badly of her for the life she’d come from. That fear had made her not trust him. But one night, after waking from one of her frequent nightmares about her family coming back to claim her and pull her back down into their drug- and alcohol-fueled existence, she left her bed for the stables. Filled with terror, she had sat in the hay while the horses slept, trembling. Marshall had come in and she told him everything. Everything.

  For a long time, she’d thought that back then, things were different. Now, she had more to lose. More at stake. But with the sound of her lonely voice in the early morning air, the desolation that even she heard, Sasha realized that without taking a chance, without giving respect and trust and honesty, there was no chance in hell of her getting any in return. And that was what trapped her with her brother and his wicked schemes.

  She was just as trapped in the past, mentally imprisoned in that trailer, just as her brother was. The only difference was that James lashed out in cruelty to pretend he wasn’t still there while she curled up in her corner trying to slip into the darkness, curling into herself and hoping no one noticed her. She wasn’t a snail. She wasn’t an ostrich. And it was time she stopped living like one.

  You should tell Damien.

  The words came as clearly as if Marshall had bent down and whispered them in her ear. Sasha shivered despite the morning warmth. Yes, she had to tell him. Just like Marshall had listened when she had the dilemma of which stable to go with, just as he’d been there through so many other decisions and crises in her life, perhaps Damien would be there for her too.

  Sasha sighed and lay back on the grave, the marble supporting her entire body like a bed while the sunlight poured down into her skin, filling her with warmth and a hope, even a slim one, that things could get better.

  “I’ll tell him,” she said. Then she closed her eyes and slept peacefully for the first time in weeks.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sasha left the stables with her heart pounding heavily in her chest. It was the end of the work day and most of the daytime staff had gone home. After finishing with Linc and the horses for the day, she had taken a shower, washed her hair, changed into a dress, blow-dried her hair and brushed it until she felt somewhat confident about her looks.

  Once she told him the story of her life and how she had gotten here, once she told him about her brother, the drugs, and jail, she wanted to look as different as possible from the dirty, trailer-trash, daughter of drugged out alcoholics, and sister of an ex-con he would then know she was.

  The dress was a simple. White, with a sheer over-skirt featuring a giant red poppy. A black bow bisected the dress just under her breasts. It was sleeveless and showed off her tanned shoulders and faintly muscular but still feminine arms. Her hair was in loose and shiny waves around her face and shoulders, brushed to a high gloss. Red lipstick the same shade as the poppy on her dress complemented the Cupid’s bow of her mouth.

  She felt confident and capable. Ready to have a difficult and adult conversation with a man she may very well lose afterward. A tremor of apprehension moved through Sasha, but she was determined to go ahead with her decision.

  You should tell Damien, Marshall had said. And she would.

  Sasha took another deep breath. Dried her damp palms on her skirt as she walked through the house and made her way toward Damien’s study. Since driving back from Davenport, she’d run through the scenario of telling Damien the truth at least a dozen times in her mind. Each time with a different result. Finally, she’d just had to shut down her brain and allow her body to lead her where she needed to be. Which was in Damien’s study to tell him everything.

  As she approached the door to the study, it opened and Linc walked out. He looked absently down at some papers in his hands while a frown marred his normally cheerful features. He looked up as he closed the door behind him.

  “Hey, Linc!” She greeted him with a quick smile although feeling far from happy.

  “What are you still doing here? I thought you went home.” He rolled the sheaf of papers in his hand into a cylindrical shape. His frown disappeared as he rapped the rolled papers into his open palm. Tap. Tap. Tap.

  “Not yet,” Sasha said. “I wanted to discuss something with Damien first.”

  Linc’s frown returned. “You’re not quitting, are you?”

  “No way!” She stretched out her smile. “The only way you’re going to get rid of me is by firing me.”

  “Good.” His troubled gaze looked her over. “I was worried for a second there. You look a little tense.”

  “I am a little, I guess.” She blew errant strands of hair from her eyes, shrugged. “Dealing with some family stuff.”

  “Family?”
>
  She’d never mentioned her family to him before and the frown cut even more deeply into his forehead. Before he could say anything else, she waved a dismissive hand.

  “Don’t ask. I’ll tell you about it some other time.”

  He examined her again, as if trying to make sure she was telling the truth. Then he squeezed her shoulder. “All right. And don’t be nervous about talking with Damien. If there’s anyone in the world who would understand and empathize, it’s him.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “See you next week.”

  “Okay. Thanks. See you.” Her own smile was a little shaky but at least she managed one.

  She waited until he had disappeared around a corner before knocking on her lover’s door. Through the thick oak, she could hear the faint sounds of conversation. Either he had someone else in there with him or he was on the phone.

  “Come in!” His raised voice came clearly through the door.

  Sasha took another breath and turned the handle, stepped inside. Damien was on the phone. As soon as she walked into the room, he waved her in. Even from her place by the door, she could see the tension in his face. He stood behind the desk, a hand in his pocket, his posture stiff and angry. He frowned down at his open laptop.

  “Tell Anthony Barnes he can go fuck himself.” His tone was cold but the fury beneath was palpable. “I don’t respond well to threats or to blackmail. If McGreevy thinks this is the way to get to me, he’s sadly mistaken. Unlike Barnes, I don’t make threats, I make promises.”

  Sasha came deeper into the study, walked to the wide set of French doors overlooking the green and manicured lawn, a rose garden in full bloom. She deliberately tuned out the rest of what Damien was saying, giving him privacy although he hadn’t asked for it.

  Behind her, the fury emanating from him was palpable, beating at her in waves although it wasn’t directed at her. Whoever he was talking about was making Damien angry in a way that Sasha had never seen. She stiffened as his tone grew increasingly cold, her eyes staring outside but paying little attention to what was beyond the window.

  In a way, she envied him the free reign of his anger, the way he expressed it with the certainty that whoever had wronged or upset him would know he wasn’t pleased. That person would probably change their behavior before Damien delivered on his “promise” of retribution. She envied his power. Envied him his strength and his ability to control the things around him.

  Sasha’s mind flickered to James again, to what she would say to Damien once he was finished with his phone call. The rehearsed words ebbed and flowed in her mind, so simple yet so life-changing. So difficult to release from her mouth. Behind her, Damien hung up the phone with a sharp click. She turned around to see him staring into space, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Then he blinked, turned to look at her, his gaze still clouded by whatever it was that was on his mind. His blue eyes were stormy, filled with a quiet yet powerful anger. Instantly, Sasha made a decision.

  She walked to him, slowly crossing the room until she stood in front of him. His eyes followed her progress. Predatory. Intent. When Sasha stood directly before him, she raised her hands to lay her palms flat against his chest. She felt his heartbeat thump firmly under her hands. Strong and steady. The lush fringe of his dark blond lashes lowered over his bright blue eyes for an electrified moment. Then they flickered up. His eyes drank her in. The anger still rolled off his body, fury, barely contained but that slowly began to clear from him the longer she touched him.

  He cleared his throat. “I didn’t expect to see you until later,” he said. Low voiced. Rough voiced. As if he’d been shouting or chewing glass.

  “What I want to say to you couldn’t wait.” She slowly moved her hands up and over his shoulders, fingers sinking into the soft cotton of his suit jacket.

  He was warm through the fabric. Hard. Tense. Everything she had prepared for flew out of her mind. She latched onto the excuse not to talk to him about her problems. To push the awfulness that was dealing with James away from her for a little while longer.

  “Let me soothe you,” she said.

  A brief smile moved across his face. “I don’t think I can be soothed just now.” But his hand touched her back, her waist, drifted down to settle on her ass. A warm stream of air blew against her face as he released a long breath.

  “Are you sure?” Sasha asked.

  She stepped away from him, the breeze from her movements stirring the skirts of her dress. Slowly, she unzipped the dress then stepped out of it, revealing the simple, if unexciting lace lingerie she wore beneath it. She hadn’t planned for sex, so she was glad that she’d at least matched the plain black lace underwear, that it was relatively new and displayed her body to perfection. Then Sasha knelt in front of him, her head held submissively down to look at the floor while she rested her palms on her knees.

  “Take me,” she said. “Let me distract you. I am yours to do with whatever you will.”

  She felt powerful in her submission. In knowing that she had the strength to shape her considerably will to, in this moment, pleasing her man. And that, as a result of submitting, pleasure would come to her from it.

  Suddenly, anger was the last thing she felt from Damien. His shoes came into her limited field of vision. Black wingtips, the elegantly draped hem of his trousers. Then a hand on her hair, lightly, a surprising tenderness. Then he yanked her head back. His blue eyes had darkened until they were early black.

  Sasha made a soft noise as he jerked his hands again in her hair. The pain of his hands in her hair sparked a jolt of arousal between her legs. For a moment it worried her. What was she becoming that this simple pain inflicted by Damien could make her burn so hot, so quickly? She squirmed, the plumping pussy lips between her legs deliciously sensitive. Her neck was bent at a painful angle, her lips parted. She licked them as she stared up at him. A low growl came from his throat.

  “You look so fuckable on your knees like that. Is this what you planned when you asked to speak with me?”

  “No.”

  He yanked her hair again. “No?”

  She shook her head, deliberately feeding herself more pain. Damien made another sound. A rough sound of need and surprise.

  “Put my cock in your mouth.”

  She moved to act without hesitation. Unzipping the already tented slacks. Sasha pulled out his thick cock, her mouth already watering to taste it. To her surprise, she realized her hands were shaking while her pussy was liquid and hot with her arousal. She bit her lip against a moan, realizing how turned on she was, how desperate she was to feel his thickness in her mouth, to please him. And because she wanted him so badly, she took it slowly. Slowly.

  Sasha stroked his beautiful cock. Forced herself to slow down by looking at its powerful beauty, the width of it, the prominent veins flushed with blood just under the sensitive skin, the wide, blood-thick head. His cock stood up firm and strong from the nest of dark blond hairs, curving up slightly to the left. His balls were heavy and dark. She cupped them in her palm. Above her, Damien made another strangled sound.

  He was the biggest man she’d ever been with. His cock a thing of beauty that had brought her to pleasure more times than she could remember.

  She anticipated how his cock would feel on her tongue. The sounds he would make. She gripped his thick and throbbing length, leaned forward. Licked the thick head, the salt and musk of his body floated over her tongue. She moaned against him, her pussy tightening with arousal and the pleasure of touching him.

  “No.” He wrenched her head back. “Don’t play with me,” he ground out. “You won’t like my response.” His expression was unreadable, his eyes dark and bottomless. He tightened his grip in her hair, jerked her closer to his cock, the meaty flesh slapping against her cheek. “Suck it. Don’t play with me.”

  Sasha hid a smile at the desperation in his voice. Despite the fact that she was the one on her knees, he was the one at her mercy, his voice strained with desire, his cock weeping for her attentions. Power
moved through her, flooding her pussy even more with wetness and heat. She opened her mouth and licked the head of his cock again, wetting the soft flesh with her tongue, sighing at the bitter-sweet taste of his pre-cum.

  She gathered his balls in her hand, fisted the other around his length and slowly stroked him as she licked the crown of him like a kitten at her cream. Sasha moaned as she licked, but did not take him fully into her mouth, did not give him the relief of surrounding him with the wet cavern of her mouth. She licked him one more time, parted her lips around the firm crown, swirled her tongue around the massive tip of him. He tried to shove deeper into her mouth, but she wouldn’t let him, instead maintaining control of the wide head and sucking on it like a ripe plum.

  Damien growled in frustration. Yanked her head back away from him and shoving her backward until she rocked back on her heels. Sasha blinked in confusion, licked the remnants of his pre-cum from her lips.

  His eyes blazed with anger and frustration, the breath came quickly from his parted lips, and the color was high in his cheeks. He stood only a few feet away, neatly clad in his suit and tie, every part of him perfectly in place except for his cock thrusting aggressively through the opening in his pants.