The hawthorne brothers a.., p.20
The Hawthorne Brothers: A Complete Billionaire Romance Collection, page 20
"You know the saying," I tell him. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."
"No fury and no memory," Asher agrees.
"Maybe you should just give up and leave her alone," Ryker suggests.
"Not a chance," Asher says. "I'll make her fall for me. Just you wait."
I shrug. "If you say so."
Just then, Stella walks towards us.
"Are you ready to go?" she asks me.
Ready as I'll ever be.
"Why do you think I've been waiting for you?"
She looks at Asher and Ryker, then back at me. "Are the three of you going drinking again tonight?"
"Not tonight." I put my arm around her. "I have something special planned for just the two of us."
"Enjoy," Asher says in a teasing tone.
Ryker coughs.
"Don't worry, Asher," Stella says. "I'm sure you'll find a way to win Violet over. And you Ryker, you'll find someone special eventually."
"I'm sure he will," I say.
"But for tonight, the two of you can just go home and go to bed," Stella tells them. "Just like Ethan and me."
I chuckle. I love it when she gets a little mischievous.
"Just go." Asher gives me a push.
I offer Stella my arm. "Let's go home."
~
When we arrive at the mansion, Stella and I go straight to our room. It used to be my room, but now it's ours and we're planning on turning the next room into a connecting nursery.
We're the only ones living here now. My father is out of the country, though he promised he'd be back before the baby is born. I have no doubt about it.
In the meantime, it's good that Stella and I have the house to ourselves. She's been wanting to have sex all the time lately. It must be the hormones.
Then again, I do, too.
As soon as we get to our room, Stella asks me to unzip her dress. I haven't even pulled the zipper all the way down to the bottom and she's already taking it off. Then she proceeds to get rid of her pink bra and the matching panties.
I manage to take off my jacket and my tie before Stella takes over undressing me, too. She unbuttons my shirt, then takes off my belt. She kneels in front of me to pull my pants and my boxers down, freeing my half-hard cock. Just having her stare at it sends a shiver down my spine.
She wraps her fingers around the shaft and kisses the tip reverently. I watch as a few inches of my cock disappear inside her mouth. She sucks. I grip her hair and suck in a breath as heat spreads through my veins. But I keep watching.
I watch Stella as she moves her head back and forth. Her lips glide along my cock and it swells even more.
Then she pulls away and starts to rub her lips against the sides of my cock instead. I let out a hiss. She licks my cock from the tip to the base as if she's savoring a tasty treat. The sight of her thoroughly enjoying the task stirs my desire.
She starts to caress my balls. I hold my breath. She pulls on them gently, the pressure causing a rumble in my throat. Then she plants a kiss on them before dragging her tongue back to the head of my cock. She lavishes the tip with attention and my knees tremble.
Fuck. She's become such an expert at this now, so much so that she's driving me crazy. I want nothing more than to fuck her wicked little mouth, but I promised I'd be gentle with her during her pregnancy. Until she gives birth, and probably for a few months after, I have to hold back, even if it takes every last ounce of my self-control.
She sucks me again, and that last ounce nearly runs out. When she gets up, I let out a breath of relief.
I pull Stella against me and claim her lips as I run my fingers through her hair. Then I push my tongue inside her mouth. She moans into mine as her hands wander across my back.
Her fingers dig into my ass. I cup one of her breasts and trap its pebbly peak between my fingers. I twist it gently and Stella pulls away from the kiss with a gasp. I notice that her nipples have become more sensitive lately.
She grabs my wrist and leads me to the bed. She pushes me down on it and climbs on top of me. She grabs my cock once more.
"Already?" I ask her.
Not that I don't want to have my cock inside her already. My patience is nearly at its limit. But I don't want her to get hurt.
"I've been thinking about this all day," Stella says as she tries to put my cock inside her.
The head slips in. I grunt as even more of my patience seeps out.
I guess there's nothing I can do if she's the one who wants to be rough.
I place my hands on her hips and help her lower them. My cock gets wrapped in her silky sheath. The sight and the sensation send my thoughts into a daze.
Stella only takes me halfway in before she swats my hands away and starts moving her hips. All I can do is watch as her beautiful breasts bounce in front of her.
That is, until she grabs my wrist and leans back.
"Touch me," she says as she places my hand between her legs, right where my cock is buried inside her.
My fingers brush against her nub and she shivers.
"As you wish," I tell her.
I stroke her nub as she moves her hips. She starts to tremble. Her moans grow louder.
Her hips move faster. Then she pushes my hand away. She leans over me and grips my shoulders. She jerks her hips a few more times and then throws her head back as a cry escapes from her throat. Her quivering walls cling to my cock.
I let Stella catch her breath for just a moment before I push her off me. I sit on top of one of her legs and then lift the other so that her body is tilted sideways. This way, I'm not putting a lot of pressure on her stomach.
I grip her leg and enter her once more. I move my hips slowly at first, then speed up my thrusts.
More moans spill from Stella's lips. Her hands clutch the bed covers. I stroke her nub like I did earlier as I plunge my cock inside her. Her moans turn into soft cries. Her body trembles.
After a few more thrusts and strokes, the sheath around me tightens again. This time, the pleasure raging through Stella's body takes over me as well. I let her squeeze me of every drop of cum as every muscle in my body coils. Air leaves my lungs.
Once the storm has passed, I gasp. I pause to catch my breath, then I pull out. I plant a kiss on Stella's belly before draping the covers on top of her.
"Are you alright?" I ask her.
Stella nods. "Tired as usual, but satisfied."
I smile. "Good. But I'm not done yet."
She gives me a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"
I get off the bed to put on a robe. Then I go into the closet. I take the satin box I've been hiding in one of the drawers and bring it back to the bedroom.
Stella sits up. "What are you doing?"
"I have something to give you."
As soon as I go down on one knee by the bed, Stella gasps. I show her the satin box and she clasps her hands over her mouth.
A part of me feels relieved. I was afraid she'd reject this gift like she rejected the expensive watch I bought for her back in Zurich. But I only see excitement on her face.
Maybe she was hoping for a proposal then? In any case, I'm doing one now.
I open the box to reveal the diamond ring inside. Stella remains speechless. Tears gloss her eyes.
"Stella Quinn, you are unlike any woman I've ever met," I tell her. "And you are my perfect match. I can't think of having anyone else by my side."
She starts to sob. I continue.
"You are already the mother of my child. This ring is nothing compared to the gift you've already given me. But I want you to know that I love you so much and I would be honored if you agreed to be my wife. Stella, will you marry me?"
She wipes her tears away and gives me a radiant smile.
"Yes, Ethan Hawthorne. I will happily be your wife."
I slip the ring on her finger and kiss her hand. She wraps her arms around me. I plant a kiss on her forehead next, then on her lips. She kisses me back fiercely and pulls me on top of her.
I move to her side and pull her into my arms.
"I love you," she whispers as she cuddles against my chest.
I kiss the top of her head. "I love you, too."
And I can't wait for us to start our life together as a family. I promise Stella will never be lonely again.
And I have a feeling that neither will I.
~The End~
Keep reading for Asher and Violet’s story!
Happily Enemy After
Hawthorne Brothers Book 2
“Landing my dream job: Check.”
Signing the lease on a luxury apartment: Double Check.
Finding out my new boss is the jerk that broke my heart in college,
And he’s my new neighbor: FML.
Asher Hawthorne is the epitome of a stuck-up suit,
He’s got a rich daddy with endless connections,
And a drop-dead smile that could have a saint week in the knees,
But not these knees, not after he took me to a party in college only to leave with someone else…typical.
I swear he’s set his sights on making my life a living hell,
Between the micro-managing and nitpicking,
And the endless stream of moaning women in and out of his apartment,
This grudge is about to turn into an all out war.
Rude and arrogant I can handle,
But when he starts to play nice,
My entire plan goes out the window.
Who the hell does he think he is making me fall for him all over again?
One stupid, thoughtless kiss and there go my traitor knees,
But as one kiss turns into so much more,
I realize that the line between love and hate,
Is blurred by the reminder of why I fell for him in the first place.
Prologue
Violet
“Isn’t Asher Hawthorne hot?”
My friend Casey lets out a dreamy sigh while stirring her iced French vanilla latte.
I know she’s younger than me, but I swear she sometimes acts like she’s still in high school instead of a twenty-two-year-old trying to get two degrees.
Still, I glance over my shoulder. I immediately spot who Casey is ogling. I’ve had a few classes with Asher Hawthorne. Even if I hadn’t, everyone at UPenn, let alone Wharton, knows who he is. Son of Winston Hawthorne, founder and CEO of Hawthorne Holdings. Why he needs an MBA I don’t know. I’m sure he already has a sleek office waiting for him along with a slew of talented professionals whose hard work and ideas he can take credit for.
He’s standing next to the counter chatting with another guy while waiting for his order. Dark locks peek from beneath his fitted navy blue beanie. The top button of his charcoal gray Henley shirt is undone, the placket drawing attention to a chiseled chest. Toned biceps threaten to burst through the sleeves that are rolled up to his elbows. The hems of his khakis are rolled just slightly around his ankles, too, giving them a clean look to go with his pristine white sneakers. He knows a thing or two about fashion, I’ll give him that.
Just then, he laughs as he takes off his beanie. The sound travels across the room like a deep rumble of thunder that echoes inside my chest. The lines around his mouth crinkle. His ebony eyes dance. The gold bezel of his watch—probably a Chopard or a Piaget—gleams on his wrist as he playfully ruffles his wavy hair.
I look away and douse the admiration welling up in me with a generous sip of steaming hazelnut cappuccino.
Ouch. That’s hot.
Fine. Asher Hawthorne is hot as hell. That doesn’t mean I’m going to start drooling over him or consider spreading my legs for him like every other female on campus. In fact, I still don’t like him.
Casey lets out another sigh, her gaze still pinned beyond my shoulder. “Wouldn’t you want to have a piece of him?”
“I would,” I answer. “I’d like to cut off his dick.”
Casey makes a face. “Gross.”
“Then he wouldn’t be able to fuck every woman in my class. Or the female professors. Or the research assistants. Or that woman behind the counter preparing his drink.”
Casey nods. “She does seem to be drooling over him.”
“You mean like you?”
She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, then with a napkin.
“It’s not my fault he looks so delicious. He’s like this sugar-coated, cream-filled churro that has the tip dipped in chocolate and you just want to suck the chocolate and lick all the sugar and—”
I put up a hand to silence her. “Now you’re being gross.”
“And it’s not just looks that he has. He’s extremely rich.”
“Because he was born into a family with lots of money.”
It’s not like he earned a single cent.
“And he’s friendly,” Casey says.
“You mean he’s cunning. He knows just what to say to people to get what he wants out of them.”
“Which just goes to show how smart he is, right? I’ve heard he can solve differential equations mentally. In less than a minute.”
I’ve heard that, too. I’ve seen him do equations on the board with just his eyes. I can’t deny he’s some kind of math whiz. That just annoys me even more. Isn’t it enough that he’s heir to billions and he looks like Henry Cavill? He has to be a genius, too?
“So what?” I shrug. “He only uses his looks, his money and his brains to get women into his bed. Don’t you find that despicable?”
Casey touches her chin. “Well…”
“He already has the world. Why can’t he content himself with one woman?”
“Maybe he hasn’t found the right one,” Casey says. “Maybe he’s still searching.”
“All of us are searching,” I tell her. “But are all of us jumping from one one-night stand to the next? No. And yet that’s exactly what he’s doing. He isn’t trying to see if one of those women is good enough for him. He never intended to keep any of them. They’re just things to him, toys to play with and then throw away like the hundreds of toys he probably had growing up. What person who’s right in the head does that?”
“Violet.”
“I bet he isn’t. Right in the head, I mean. Maybe he’s treating women like trash because he feels like trash. Maybe his mother didn’t love him. Or his father.”
“Violet.”
“Maybe Asher Hawthorne’s just not capable of love.” I lean back and fold my arms over my breasts. “Which is pathetic, really. He’s just a child. I bet he doesn’t know how to—”
I stop talking because I hear a throat clear behind me. I lift my head and find myself staring into a pair of tar-black eyes.
Speaking of the devil. Oh shit.
I quickly turn away and pick up my cup of coffee. It’s still hot, but nowhere near as hot as my cheeks, which feel like they’re evaporating. I wish I could evaporate and vanish from here.
Violet, you are such an idiot.
“Hi, Asher,” Casey greets.
I try to catch her gaze so I can tell her with my eyes to make him go away, but her attention is completely on him. Of course it is.
“Hi.”
He offers her his hand and she shakes it while obviously trying to hold back her profuse enthusiasm.
“I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Cassandra,” she introduces herself. “But you can call me Casey. Junior. Huntsman Program. Math isn’t my favorite subject but I know five languages. And I know how to cook.”
I roll my eyes. What’s this? A girlfriend résumé? Why doesn’t she just ask him outright if he wants to have sex with her? I’m sure he does.
“Huntsman, hmm?” Asher replies. “Impressive.”
See.
“And this is Violet Cleary.”
I almost choke on my coffee.
“She’s pursuing an MBA just like you. She’s good at math, too. And she… Ow!”
She pulls her hand away right after I give it a hard squeeze. Then she glares at me.
“What the hell?”
That’s my line.
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet both of you,” Asher says. “Especially you, Casey. Enjoy your coffee. Maybe next time, you and I can grab a cup.”
So he’s ignoring me?
Casey gives him a smile. “I’d love that.”
“Good.”
I hear him start to walk away.
“Oh, and I love your shirt!” Casey calls after him. Then she continues in a softer voice only I can hear. “Though I think you’d look better without it.”
I put my cup down and frown. “I swear if you faint, I’m going to leave you here.”
She doesn’t seem to have heard me. Her gaze is still towards the other end of the room.
“He is so much hotter up close.”
“And more arrogant.”
I bet he was smirking as he walked away.
“You’re just jealous because I’m the one he asked out for a cup of coffee.”
I make a sweeping motion with my hands. “By all means, have him. Please.”
After all, there’s no way I’d ever be interested in going out with Asher Hawthorne.
~
Fine. Maybe I’d be a little interested.
I make the concession as I slowly traverse one of the Classic Literature aisles in the library, my fingertips brushing against the spines of the books.
I’m not a voracious reader, but I did own a copy of Pride and Prejudice once. For a time, I wished I had my own Mr. Darcy to give me a comfortable life.
Now, I’m determined to give that to myself. That’s why I studied economics and finance diligently even though what I wanted was to be a math teacher for the fifth or sixth grade, the best years of my life. That’s why I’m here at Wharton trying to give myself the best chance of success in the corporate world. Still, sometimes, I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like if I didn’t have to work, if I could follow my dream, if I didn’t have to worry about money because I had a wealthy, supportive husband who could give me just as much as I needed.
A man like Asher Hawthorne.
Whoa. Just a while ago, I was against dating him. Now, I’m thinking of marrying him? No way.
