Chapter 14
Win
My city apartment was in a high-rise building that had an amazing view. At night, the lights from the city reflected off the water and gave the whole place a dreamy, otherworldly feel. It was decorated similarly to my suite at the manor, with top-of-the-line furnishings and fixtures. It was very bland. My surroundings were uninteresting and lifeless until I dragged Channing kicking and screaming into my staid environment. When I allowed myself to look at things through her bright and curious gaze, the whole lot seemed lacking. I included myself when I ran down a mental list of everything she’d openly disdained since I forced her back to the Cove. I could not envision any other woman so obviously disgusted by the grandiose display of wealth she encountered every single second she spent with me.
The fact that my life was too loud, too much, too cold, too superficial, too extraordinary for Channing is what kept me circling back to her. Even when what she craved most was something ordinary and simple. I found myself toying with her commonplace wants and needs. I could hand out money, jewelry, business opportunities, and make profitable connections. I did not have the first idea what it would take to offer even the smallest part of my heart to someone. I was starting to see all the less obvious risks Archie had taken when he fell for Willow.
I thought he was weak for crawling back home and cruel for forcing Willow to endure my mother’s wrath. I was bitter because I always believed he would still be alive if he had stayed away. Now, I could understand his desire to make sure his family had the best of everything, even if those benefits and advantages weren’t wanted. Similar to Channing, my brother’s wife never wanted much. A man who was a supportive father and a loving husband was more than enough for her. She asked for things no Halliday knew how to give, but my younger brother came the closest.
It was a shame close didn’t count when it came to being enough for another person. Either you were or you weren’t. The minute Archie brought his family back to the wolves’ den that was our childhood home, he stopped being the man Willow fell in love with. He immediately reverted to a Halliday. Not a soul had a better idea of how hard a Halliday was to love than I did.
I would never make the mistake of thinking I could buy or manipulate my way into Channing’s good graces. However, I was callous and confident enough to believe I had the skills required to negotiate and seduce a path between her legs and into her bed.
She wordlessly followed me into the bedroom like she was resigned to our shared fate.
I could not resist the opportunity to get as close as possible to the only person in my life who didn’t pretend with me. It was refreshing and painfully attractive. For years, I set myself up as her combatant because I could never be her equal.
I functioned as a shield. I didn’t want our niece caught in the crossfire between basic and billions. I kept Winnie isolated from her aunt’s regular life because it was the only thing I could never give her. As a Halliday heir, she faced a life full of everything except the little things that mattered. I grew up barely knowing either of my parents. Making a happy home was never a priority. There was no heart and soul in my life, only drive and ambition. Even now, I couldn’t tell you my mother’s favorite color or to whom my father looked up. Winnie was fortunate that she had Channing, because the teenager never had to question what it felt like to be loved unconditionally. She was gifted more than any Halliday who came before her.
“What are you thinking about?” Channing’s sharp question broke through my wandering thoughts. “If the answer is anything other than what you’re going to do with me when you have me naked and willing, you can forget about taking this evening any further.”
She sat up on the edge of the king-size bed. It was easy to get her nude since her underwear was long gone and she hadn’t worn a bra since the back of her dress was cut so low. I tossed the cheap black garment somewhere on the floor next to her well-worn heels. She was right. My focus should be on her pale skin dotted with small freckles and her wild hair, which looked exceptionally sexy, tousled and messy from my hands. She was like a Renaissance painting, lush and curved. Everything about her appeared soft and seductive, as if she were begging to be touched and revered.
“I’m thinking that my bed looks much better with you in it. The entire apartment feels brighter with you here.” My tone was gruff. I kept my hands gentle as I reached out to tuck some of her strawberry hair behind her ears so I could see her expression clearly while she gazed up at me. “I never realized that I was surrounded by so much gray before. I paid a fortune for an interior designer. How did it still end up so dull?”
Channing’s eyebrows lifted as she reached out to unfasten the closure of my dress slacks. My jacket, shirt, and tie were somewhere on the floor with her clothes. Typically, I tried to treat my things with more care. However, as soon as Channing’s dress came off, all I cared about was getting my hands and mouth on as much of her bare skin as possible.
“The gray matches your eyes — and your personality.” The corner of her mouth lifted in a lopsided grin as she tugged down the fabric. “It’s not bad. You just need an accent color to liven everything up a little. Just like a bright yellow umbrella in the rain.”
An accent color. Something that could break up the monotony. When I was younger, playing the violin was the accent color that allowed me to see past my austere surroundings. After giving up the instrument to follow in my father’s footsteps, I stopped looking for anything that might not fit into the sterile, strict life where I was stuck. Unwittingly, I’d built myself another high-class jail cell and tossed away the key. Channing’s presence opened my eyes and reminded me there was a world of colors beyond the gray. She was my current accent color. I was smart enough to know that quitting her would be much more difficult than walking away from my previous passion.
Once my pants were down far enough for my cock to spring free, Channing pushed me back a step with a hand on my stomach. She used her thumb to trace along one of the lines that delineated my ab muscles and gave a low whistle of appreciation.
“When do you have time to work on a six-pack? I thought all billionaires were pasty and doughy from sitting in meetings with other rich people all day. You don’t have even a hint of a dad-bod. With your sweet tooth, you shouldn’t look this good without your clothes on.”
I grunted when she used her fingernails to scratch a trail through the coarse hair that arrowed down to the base of my throbbing dick. I wanted to persuade her to change her mind when she nixed the idea of fucking in the limo, but I figured I’d pushed her far enough after getting her off in the bathroom. Every inch of my being was achingly aware of how lucky I was to have this woman falling to her knees in front of me.
“I work out a couple times a week and play tennis regularly. Winnie likes to swim. I try to hit the pool or the ocean with her as often as possible. My mother would never tolerate a pasty, doughy Halliday heir. She thinks I’m a direct reflection of her. I can’t tell you how many times she’s tried to get me to dye the silver in my hair.” I gave a dry chuckle. “She’s forgotten that she’s the reason I went gray so early.”
Channing wrapped her hand around my cock and lowered the leaking tip toward her mouth. “You actually know how to defy her? I never would’ve guessed.”
I shoved my hands into her hair and pulled her closer to my painfully hard erection. I nearly forgot my name when her lips touched the tip. Her breath was hot and moist as it drifted over the sensitive surface of my skin.
“Can we not mention my mother when we are about to fuck?” Talk about a mood killer. “Or ever.” I’d had enough of the subject, frankly.
Channing hummed her agreement. The next second, her tongue darted out to lick along the leaking slit pressed against her soft lips. I sucked in a breath and forced myself not to yank her head forward to swallow my whole cock down. I was used to civilized, choreographed sex. I didn’t know what to do with the primal urges this woman brought out in me.
My breath caught as she swirled her tongue around the tapered head she drew into her mouth. Her grasp tightened on the base of my cock; the pressure made my hips push forward unconsciously. A tingle shot up my spine, and I lost the ability to form a coherent thought. The deeper she took me in, the further away my sanity slipped. The last time I let myself surrender to sensation and get lost in indescribable feelings was when I created beautiful music that came from my soul. Eons passed between that moment and this one. If anyone ever asked, I would gladly leave my foolish childhood dreams behind if I could have more of this — more of her.
Her tongue swirled and slicked along every inch she could take into her mouth. Her fist slid along the damp skin, creating a new sensation that made my nerve endings tingle. When the head of my erection hit her soft palate and she swallowed, I forgot I was trying to maintain control and keep a fragment of decorum. I used my grip on her hair to pull her closer and force farther into the heated cavern surrounding me. Channing gave a slight whimper. It was hard to tell if the sound was protest or pleasure.
Her eyes glimmered, and the way her face flushed, it seemed like she liked it. The hand wrapped around the base of my cock tightened, and I hissed when I felt the point of her fingernail trail along the thick vein that pulsed on the underside of my erection. The tip pressed at the back of her throat dripped uncontrollably in response. I was like a toy she was playing with. Channing knew exactly where to touch, how to stroke, when to swallow. I reacted to whatever she did effortlessly.
For the first time in a long time, I was able to shut out everything else and focus on one single thing.
Channing Harvey.
My entire world narrowed to her and how she made me feel.
At this moment, I didn’t feel like the CEO of Halliday Inc. I didn’t feel as though I was Colette Halliday’s son.
I felt like a man. A man who desperately needed to lose himself inside of the woman in front of him. There were no checks and balances between me and Channing at the moment. If there were, I would be lacking.
I let out a faint sound as Channing’s free hand skimmed across her full breasts. Her pebbled nipples were a perfect princess pink that darkened when her fingers toyed with them. The freckles I’d never noticed before looked like a tiny galaxy spread across her creamy skin. I wanted to kiss all of them and get her puckered nipples between my teeth. When I felt the edge of her teeth against my straining cock, I abruptly pulled away from her mouth. Her lips were wet and puffy. Her eyes were wide and glassy.
She was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
I hoisted her up and pushed her back toward the bed. She watched me kick off my pants and lean over to fetch a condom from the bedside table. While I slid the latex down the length of my dick, Channing continued to move her hands over her body. One hand caressed her breasts while the other disappeared between her legs. She moaned loudly, and I could see that her fingers were glistening and wet. If there was anything hotter than knowing that a woman got hot while sucking off her partner, I didn’t have a clue what it was.
I stepped between her legs and bent to lick the peak of the nipple trapped between her playful fingers. I put one hand next to her head to brace my weight and used the other to wrap one of her legs around my waist. When her heel dug into my ass, I pressed my hips forward and felt the back of her fingers and her heat as I aligned my cock with her entrance.
I switched my attention to her other breast and pulled a full nipple into my mouth. I used my tongue and teeth to tease the tiny bud into a rigid peak and brushed my erection against her moving fingers. When Channing gasped for breath, I lifted my head to kiss her.
Her lips were a touch swollen and tender from my relentless onslaught of kisses in the back of the limo. Channing was the only woman I’d ever sloppily made out with. The only woman I’d kissed in a hungry, desperate way. I should be ashamed of how needy I was becoming around her. Instead, I reveled in it.
I wasn’t a man who knew what it was like to need something. It was novel. And it was enlightening.
I dropped a barely there kiss on her parted lips and asked, “Are you going to let me in?”
I could shove myself inside of her with no tact, the way I invaded the rest of her life. But here, I needed her explicit agreement. I had no qualms about taking anything else, but it was necessary for us to share this defining moment. It was explicitly different from all the ways I’d ever felt.
Rather than giving me an answer, Channing grasped my waiting cock. She guided the tip into her wet entrance. All it took was a slight thrust, and I was buried deep inside of her. We both moaned and her back arched off the bed.
“Win.”
“Channing.”
The names burst out simultaneously. Our eyes locked. She shuddered while I stiffened.
What was in a name?
Turns out, a lot.
We couldn’t hide from one another behind throwaway nicknames. We were just two people trying to get as close as possible, searching for something that would fill in a few of the missing pieces they shared.
At first, I took things easy, moving within her nice and slow. Every clench of her body, every shaky breath, went straight to my head. The wetter she became and the noisier she got, the faster I moved. The kisses we shared were enough to bruise our lips, but the pain made the pleasure clearer. When she moved her fingers back to her body to stroke and fondle her clit, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I released the breast that was cupped in my palm and shifted my grasp to the back of her thigh. Her muscles tensed when I stood and pulled her close to the edge of the bed so I could move more freely. She made a little sound each time I pulled back and thrust forward. Channing tossed her head from side to side and closed her eyes as her body started to flutter and pulse around mine.
I liked the way her fingers felt when they rode along the top of my dick as she continued to touch herself while I hammered into her like I’d turned into a feral beast. Her chest heaved and her entire body turned a rosy pink. When she moaned my name and I felt her release rush around my body, I lost the last remnants of my control. It was honestly a miracle I’d lasted this long considering I’d been semi-hard since our tryst in the bathroom. My fingers dug into her flesh, and her name tripped off my tongue as if it were the only word I knew how to speak.
Pure pleasure spread from the lowest part of my spine and blazed throughout my body. My vision blurred for a heated moment, and my lungs ceased working. I felt her everywhere. Even in places I was certain were long, cold and numb — like my heart. I fully let myself go and surrendered to every fiery, foreign sensation. I’d never felt less like a Halliday in my life; I would never give up this feeling of freedom and release.
I was deeply relieved that I’d tied her to me for the next two years.
I had plenty of time to figure my feelings out and make hers change.
After all, I was trained by the best to be one persuasive son of a bitch.