Trust Fund Fiancé (Texas Cattleman's Club: Rags to Riches 4)

He didn’t speak anymore...couldn’t. Everything in him—every muscle, tendon, cell—focused on burying himself in the tightest, sweetest flesh. Tremors quivered through him, and he fought the need to thrust like a wild animal.

“Don’t hold back from me, Zeke,” she breathed, lying back on the hood and smoothing her palms down her body to cover his hands over her toned thighs. “Come. Undone.”

Her wish, her order snapped the cord tethering his control. He fell over her, pulling a taut nipple into his mouth as he thrust inside her over and over. Her legs and arms cradled him, her hips rising and bucking to meet each stroke. And her hoarse, primal cries for more spurred him on as he rode her.

Thank God.

He hoped if she’d asked him to stop, he would be able to. He prayed he would’ve managed it. But with her nails digging into his bare shoulders, the heels of her shoes pressed into his ass, he was so goddamn glad that fortitude wouldn’t be tested. Not when sweat dotted his skin, lust strung him tighter than a drum, and pleasure barreled down on him like a train with greased tracks and no brakes.

“Let go, sweetheart,” he rumbled, levering off her to reach between them and rub the swollen little nub at the top of her clenching sex.

She bowed hard, and seconds later, her core clamped down on him, nearly bruising him in her erotic embrace. She milked him, coaxing his release, and with several short, hard thrusts, he gave it to her.

Gave it to them.

A bone-deep lethargy swept through him, and right under it hummed a satisfaction that burrowed even deeper. Easing off Reagan, he took care of the condom, helped her dress and then righted himself. They didn’t speak, but they did communicate. She clasped his hands in hers, brushing her lips over his chin and jaw. And he took her mouth, relaying how beautiful and desirable he found her.

Long moments later, he held the car door open and guided her inside before closing it behind her and rounding the hood. Jesus, he would never be able to drive the Jaguar again and not think of what happened on top of it today. And the fact that a smile eased onto his face at the thought should’ve alarmed him. Maybe when his body wasn’t loose and relaxed after the best sex he ever had, it would.

His cell phone rang as he slid behind the steering wheel. Silently groaning, he reached for it. Damn. He’d forgotten that he’d powered his phone back on a couple of hours ago for the first time since leaving for Vegas. Yes, he’d been out of the office and unavailable for longer than, well, ever, but he wasn’t ready to face everything head-on yet. He glanced at the screen, intending to note the caller ID and then send the call to voice mail. But when his brother’s name popped up, he hesitated.

It was Luke. And he was most likely worried.

Shit.

Swiping the answer bar, Ezekiel lifted the phone to his ear. “Hey, Luke.”

“Where the hell have you been?” his brother roared.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he glanced over at Reagan to find her studying him, eyebrows arched.

“Vegas. I instructed Laura to let everyone know I would be out of town and to reschedule anything that came up,” he said calmly. “I’m a married man, by the way.”

“Congratulations,” Luke said, even if it seemed to emerge through gritted teeth. “But Laura said a couple of days, not four.”

“Yes, I took two more days,” Ezekiel ground out, trying not to snap. “What’s the big damn deal, Luke? Yes, we’re in trouble, but the company isn’t going to collapse while I take some vacation time.”

Silence greeted his outburst.

An ominous silence that sent dread crawling down his spine. “Luke?” His grip on his cell tightened until the case bit into his palm. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

A heavy sigh echoed down the line. “I’m sorry, Zeke. Sorry for coming at you like I did.” Luke paused, and because they were so in tune with each other, Ezekiel could easily imagine his brother scrubbing a hand over his head in frustration. “And wish I could?

?ve called you with better news when you just returned from your honeymoon, but... Zeke, the shit has hit the fan.”

“What?” Ezekiel snarled, his heart pounding so loud against his chest he could barely hear his brother above the din. “Dammit, tell me, Luke.”

“With our assets frozen, the company hasn’t been able to cover debts. One of them being the estate.” Luke’s voice thickened, and Ezekiel’s throat closed in response. “Zeke, the bank foreclosed on our home. Everyone’s been forced to move out. Harley is living with Grant until their move back to Thailand. Beth’s gone to live with Camden. Sebastian and Sutton are renting a house together, and I’m crashing with a friend for now. But Aunt Ava...” Again Luke paused, and his dark rumble of anger reverberated in Ezekiel’s ear. “She’s moved in with Keith.”

“Goddammit,” Ezekiel snarled. Out of his peripheral vision, he caught Reagan’s head snapping toward him. Her arm stretched across the console and she clasped his free hand in hers. “He’s taking advantage of her, Luke, and using the situation to get her under his thumb. Just when we were starting to get her back to her old self after Uncle Trent’s death. Now she’s...” He trailed off, squeezing his eyes closed. “How is this all happening?” he whispered. “Why is this...”

“I don’t know, Zeke,” came his brother’s solemn answer. “I really don’t.”

Fourteen

“Reagan, can I just say again how much I appreciate you agreeing to help with the masquerade ball?” Her pretty green eyes shining, Beth Wingate reached across the table in the small meeting room in the Texas Cattleman’s Clubhouse and squeezed Reagan’s hand. “Especially since Zeke volunteered you without asking first. I hope you know I warned my cousin against making that a habit in your marriage,” she drawled.

Reagan laughed, waving away the other woman’s concern. “It’s no problem at all, really. With Dad being a member of the club for so long, I’m no stranger to helping out with the events they’ve sponsored. Honestly, I’m happy to help out in any way I can.”