Liability, Page 2

  “What?” she asks, pulling her head away from my chest and blinking up at me, looking adorably disheveled.

  “Would you like to eat dinner in here, on the couch, or in the kitchen, at the bar?”

  “Oh...wherever you want is fine with me,” she says, laying her head back down.

  “In the kitchen,” I say, knowing if we stay in here I will not be able to keep my hands off her and she will most likely end up riding my face before she’s able to have one bite of her meal. She will need her strength for the things I have planned for us.

  Lifting her off me, I take her hand and lead her to the kitchen, getting her settled on one of the barstools and stealing a kiss before going to the fridge. “What would you like to drink?”

  “Do you have sweet tea?” she asks quietly, studying my every move.

  “I don’t, but I’ll tell Sue, my housekeeper, to pick some up,” I tell her, and her brows pull together.

  “You’re going to be here a lot, Fern. You opened your legs for me, let me eat your sweet little pussy and feel your virgin cherry on my finger. That cherry is mine, your body is mine, and you are mine. Like I said, you’re going to be here a lot,” I promise.

  “You’re scaring me,” she says, breathing heavily.

  “You’ll get over it, and you’ll get used to me.”

  I know she wants to say more, but she smartly presses her lips together. If she thinks I’m going to give her up, she has another think coming. She’s lucky she’s in school, or I would find a way to move her in with me.

  Grabbing her a juice and myself a beer, I pull off my shirt and toss it toward the living room before sitting down on the stool across from her.

  “Eat, baby,” I nudge her knee, bringing her eyes from my chest up to mine, waiting for her to take a bite before I do.

  “My grandfather talks about you,” she says, moving around a piece of sushi on her plate.

  “What does he say?” I ask her, seeing her face has lost some of its color.

  “Nothing, I don’t know why I brought it up.”

  “Tell me,” I command, sitting back and crossing my arms over my now bare chest.

  “He... he says you’re a player, that you will never settle down,” she whispers.

  “He was right,” I agree, watching her eyes fill with hurt. “He was. I won’t lie to you and tell you that I haven’t bedded a lot of women in this city, but not one of them has been to my home. I wouldn’t care if any of them were at the bar with their friends, and I sure as fuck wouldn’t be sitting across from any of them sharing a meal while they wore my clothes.”

  “Oh,” she murmurs, ducking her head again and pulling at the hem of my shirt. I do have a reputation in this city, but I have never felt what I’m feeling right now with any of the women I have been with, and I refuse to let my past ruin my chances of getting what I want. And I want Fern more than I want my next breath.

  Once she’s finished eating, I clean up the empty containers then lead her to the bedroom without giving her a choice.

  “Get into bed. I have some stuff to take care of,” I tell her gently.

  “I need to brush my teeth.”

  “Okay, then go brush you teeth then get into bed,” I say, giving her a kiss and a tap on the ass, sending her into the bathroom. Once the door is closed, I let out a frustrated growl. I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing. I don’t want to scare her off, but I also need to be inside her.

  Running a frustrated hand through my hair, I head toward my office and sit down at my computer. I need her to trust me. I need her to get to know me, but how the hell do I do that? I’ve never dated any woman more than a few times. I know how to make a woman beg for me, but how the hell do you make someone fall in love with you?

  Giving up on getting any work done, I head across the open space of the kitchen and living room and quietly open my door. The room is dark. Only the light from the hall casting a glow across the expanse of my bed shows me she’s under the covers. Pulling the door closed behind me, I kick off my shoes and take off my pants before getting into bed with her.

  “Carter.” Her voice cuts through the darkness.

  “I’m here.” I pull her into my body, tucking her head under my chin as I hold her until she falls back asleep. Looking out at the city, I know I will do whatever is necessary to have this for the rest of my life.

  Chapter 4

  Carter

  Leaning back in my chair, I rub my eyes then pick up my desk phone when it rings.

  “Carter,” I answer.

  “Hey, son, how’s it going?” my dad asks as I sit back, taking a breath. I haven’t seen Fern in three days, and my body is going through withdraws, I think but don’t say, instead muttering, “Good, getting ready to call it a night. What’s up?”

  “I just got a call that Mr. McCauley is in the hospital. Seems he suffered a heart attack this afternoon.”

  “Shit.” I stand, starting to put my stuff in my briefcase. “What hospital?” I demand, knowing Fern is there, probably scared out of her mind.

  “Presbyterian,” he says, but I don’t hear anything else, because I hang up then head out of the office.

  “Den, forward all my calls to my cell,” I tell my assistant, who watches me with wide eyes as I move past her, out of the office, and toward the bank of elevators.

  Getting into my car, I fight through traffic until I’m parking in one of the lots a few blocks from the hospital. I know Mr. McCauley won’t be expecting to see me, and will probably wonder why the fuck I’m there, but something in me is screaming at me to get to Fern as quickly as I can.

  As soon as I arrive at the hospital, I use my charm on one of the nurses until she tells me what room he’s in then jog down the hall in that direction.

  Outside the door to his room, I pause when I hear a woman’s voice say angrily, “This is all your fault. I told him the devil was in you, and he didn’t listen,” before hearing a loud bang and a whimper. Without thinking, I open the door to the room, where I find Fern with her back pressed to the wall, while an older woman holds her by the throat.

  “Let her go now!” I roar, stepping into the room, noticing the bed is empty.

  “Who are you?” the woman asks softly, stepping away from Fern but running her hand down her hair like she was comforting her.

  “Come here, Fern,” I command, holding out my hand to her, noticing her face is red and blotchy and there are tears in her eyes.

  “Who are you?” the woman repeats, narrowing her eyes on Fern as she steps away from her and comes to my side, burying her face in my chest as she sobs.

  “Where is Mr. McCauley?” I ask, hearing Fern begin to sob harder.

  “He’s dead,” the woman says with no remorse or concern.

  “Jesus,” I hiss, tucking Fern closer to my body, wanting to shield her from this.

  “Now give me my granddaughter. I’m taking her home,” she says, holding out her hand in my direction, which causes the woman in my arms to cling tighter to me.

  “You’re not taking her home. I heard what you said to her when I came in, and I also saw your hands on her,” I growl, watching her face transform with rage.

  “You’re not keeping my only grandchild from me!” she yells, pointing a finger at me.

  “I’m not letting her go with you,” I state firmly, moving toward the door.

  “I’m calling the police.”

  “Please do, and while you’re at it, tell them she’s eighteen and with Carter Vault in his penthouse at one-oh-one Warren Street. I’ll be expecting their call,” I say, leading a still sobbing Fern out of the hospital. When we reach my car, I pull her into my lap behind the wheel, holding her until she calms down enough that she is able to take a full breath without sounding like she’s hyperventilating.

  “Are you okay to sit in your seat while I drive, baby?” I ask her gently, pushing her hair away from her face.

  When she nods, I place her beside me and get her buckled in before start
ing the car, taking her hand in mine, and holding it firmly against my thigh while I move in and out of traffic with precision.

  Reaching my building, I pull into the underground parking space then pick Fern’s slight weight up and carry her into the elevator, whispering soothing words to her as I carry her through the apartment and lay her in bed.

  “Do you want a shirt?” I ask, pulling off her shoes, noticing for the first time that she’s still in her school uniform.

  “Yes.” She nods. Helping her out of the rest of her clothes, I tug her hands away from her breasts when she tries to cover them.

  “Don’t hide from me,” I tell her firmly, slipping my shirt over her head. “Is your grandmother always like that?” I ask her, sitting next to her hip on the bed.

  “Yes, but grand—” She swallows as more tears leak from her eyes. “He’s always stepped in.”

  “Shhh, it’ll be okay.”

  “She’s going to call the police and make me go home,” she whimpers, rolling to her side.

  “Fern, you’re eighteen. She can’t make you go home unless you want to,” I tell her, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

  “I have nowhere to go,” she says through a gulp of air.

  “You’re staying with me,” I tell her, watching her eyes grow wide. “And do not even think about arguing.”

  “Carter—”

  “No, now you rest,” I tell her, lying down behind her, wrapping myself around her.

  Waking up a couple hours later to the concierge phone in the kitchen going off, I quietly get out of bed and head across the living room to pick it up. “Mr. Vault, there are two police officers here who wish to speak with you.”

  “Send them up,” I say, opening the door to the apartment then moving back to the kitchen to dig through the items in the fridge, trying to find something I can make Fern for dinner.

  Finding frozen lasagna, I open the box and put it in the oven.

  “Mr. Vault?” a police officer not much older than Fern asks, knocking twice on the open door and poking his head inside.

  Going to the door, I greet him and his fellow officer with a firm shake. “How are you guys doing tonight?” I ask them both, leading them toward the living room.

  “Slow night,” they both mutter in unison as I take a seat and point to the couch across from me.

  “What can I do for you? “

  “We received a call from a Mrs. McCauley stating you are holding her granddaughter here without her permission.”

  “I’m here, because this is where I want to be,” Fern’s voice cuts in, and I watch the two men in front of me sit up a little taller and suck in there guts as they take in her wild hair while wearing my shirt.

  “Baby, go get some clothes on then come out and talk to us,” I tell her, grateful when she nods and heads back into the room, seeing how I would hate to go to jail today for assaulting an officer.

  “As she said, she’s here because she wants to be, and is legally old enough to make that decision for herself.”

  “We would still like to talk to Miss McCauley,” one of the policemen says, and I nod, sitting back in my chair.

  When Fern comes out this time, she’s wearing a pair of my sweats that she obviously found in the closet. Holding my hand out to her, I scoot over in the chair, placing her next to me.

  “We’re sorry about your loss, and we understand this is a difficult time for you,” the officer with the nametag Murphy says softly. “Your grandmother is very worried about you right now, and—”

  “She’s not,” Fern cuts him off, showing more fire than I have ever seen from her.

  “She called us, so that leads me to believe she is,” the other officer states.

  “Well, I’m not going back there,” she says firmly, but I watch her chin wobble, which causes anger to course through me.

  “As you can see, Fern is fine. She’s obviously upset about the loss of her grandfather, but that is completely understandable. If you guys have anymore questions for her, I’m going to have to ask you to speak with her in a few days when things have settled,” I say, standing and waiting for them to stand along with me, then lead them to the door and open it.

  “We’ll be in touch in a few days,” Officer Murphy says, handing me his card before I close the door behind him.

  Turning, I come face-to-face with my beautiful girl, who once again has tears in her eyes that are dripping down her cheeks and onto my shirt.

  Seeing her standing there, looking vulnerable, makes something within me twist and a pain to hit my chest. I’ve never cared when a woman has cried before, but I can’t stand to see Fern with tears in her eyes.

  Closing the distance between us, I pick her up in my arms and carry her back to the bedroom, following her down onto the bed, where I kiss away each tear as they fall.

  Chapter 5

  Carter

  “I’ll get that, baby. You go get changed,” I tell Fern, kissing her forehead, watching her eyes close as she nods before walking to the bedroom in her simple black dress, carrying her shoes in her hand.

  Picking up the concierge phone in the kitchen, I tell them to send up our guest. Today, we went to Mr. McCauley’s funeral. I knew before leaving the house this morning that it was going to be difficult for Fern to be there, but after seeing the way her grandmother snubbed her nose at my girl, I had to pray for patience to make it through the service. Especially when Fern got up to say her goodbyes and her grandmother rolled her eyes. I admit I didn’t know much about Mr. McCauley, but I’m starting to understand not everything was as it appeared to be on the outside.

  Once the service was over, we were approached by the family attorney, Mr. Ramos, who is well known in the city for estate planning. He explained he needed to have a sit-down with Fern, regarding her grandfather’s will. Fern didn’t want to wait, and neither did I, so I asked him to meet us here.

  Loosening my tie, I pour myself a finger of scotch as I wait near the door. This is the last thing on Earth I’d like to be doing right now; what I want to do is go into the bedroom, strip my beautiful girl down, and make love to her. Having her in my arms the last three nights, holding her while she sleeps, and waking up to her scent surrounding me has been a test of my willpower. I know she’s grieving the loss of her granddad, but I don’t know how much longer I can wait to have her.

  Opening the door for the lawyer when he knocks, I’m surprised and a little pissed to see Fern’s grandmother standing next to him.

  “Come in and have a seat,” I say, leading them to the living room then moving to the bedroom door, catching a glimpse of Fern’s flat stomach as she pulls her shirt down when I step into the room.

  “Your grandmother decided to show up as well,” I tell her, watching as her teeth clench tight. I hate that look on her, and I’m determined to replace it with something else.

  Closing the door behind me, I take the two steps separating us, wrapping her in my arms and covering her mouth with mine. Her gasp of surprise allows me to slide my tongue into her mouth while I heft her up into my arms until her legs wrap around my hips.

  “I need to be in you,” I groan, pressing her into the wall of windows. “I need to know what it feels like when your hot little cunt grabs hold of my cock,” I growl, hearing her whimper as I lift her higher then lazily move my hands under her shirt to cup her breasts. “I can’t wait to see these full of milk after I fill you with my cum.” I kiss her again while pulling her nipples between my fingers.

  Pulling my mouth from hers, I look down between us, where my erection is testing the limits of my pants and I can feel the heat coming off her core.

  Lifting my gaze to hers, I press her back into the windows and move her hair out of her face while pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Tonight, I’m taking what’s mine, Fern,” I say, watching her eyes slide half closed. “Tonight, you’re giving yourself to me. Right, beautiful?”

  “Yes, Carter,” she agrees, which earns her another kiss.


  “Now, let’s go see what the Wicked Witch of the East Village wants,” I say, making her smile and shake her head.

  Taking her hand, I lead her to the door then stop when her hand in mine tightens.

  “What’s up, baby?” I ask, watching as she comes to stand in front of me.

  “I just... Thank you for everything,” she says, leaning up on her tiptoes, barely reaching the underside of my jaw, where she places a gentle kiss, which causes another pain to hit my chest.

  “Anything for you, Fern,” I tell her, watching tears fill her eyes. She leans up once more on her tiptoes, and this time I meet her halfway, giving her a soft kiss before swinging the door open and leading her out of the bedroom.

  “It took you long enough,” her grandmother huffs as we walk into the living room.

  “If we could get this over with, we have plans for the rest of the day,” I state, taking a seat and pulling Fern down next to me, wrapping my arm around her shoulders.

  “Fern, as I said before, I’m very sorry about the loss of Bill. He was one of my dearest friends, and I know he loved you greatly,” Mr. Ramos says as Fern’s grandmother scoffs.

  “He babied her.”

  Swinging my head to look at her, I growl, “This is my home. If you disrespect my woman again, I’m going to ask you to leave.”

  “Do you see the way he talks to me?” She waves her hand in my direction while looking at Mr. Ramos.

  “Karen, let’s just move along so we can all carry on with our day.”

  “Fine,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, glaring at me then Fern.

  By the time Mr. Ramos has gone over the first page of the will, I know half the money is going to end up being donated, because one of the first stipulations is about her not getting married until after her twenty-first birthday, which doesn’t work for me. I want...no, I need her to have my last name. Another is her not having a child until after the age of twenty-five, and seeing how I plan on having her pregnant as soon as humanly possible, I know she may as well kiss this money goodbye. Not that she will need any of it; I have plenty. She will never want for anything.