The Carrero Effect Trilogy

Chapter 43

Entering the sunny breakfast room so late in the morning feels like a huge giveaway as to what we’ve been doing, so I’m glad to see it’s deserted; no one else is even up yet. Jake’s walking behind me with his hands on my shoulders and is much more relaxed; he’s practically horizontal now, and his mood is mellow. I guess finally making me orgasm multiple times has him in a much better mood. All my inner thoughts and emotions were no longer a hurdle when he started making love to me again. His confessions had made me extra responsive to his touch and barely able to last minutes before the first waves overtook me.

He kisses me on the back of the head before taking my hand and leading me to a seat at the table already set with glasses and cutlery. Almost as soon as we sit, a maid comes in, bringing us hot plates of pancakes, eggs, sausages, and bacon and a bowl of fresh sliced fruit. He doesn’t even acknowledge the girl, but I smile warmly at her with thanks.

“That’s really rude, you know,” I chastise him lightly, watching him lift his mug as he scans the newspaper and picks up his phone.

“What is?” He looks up from the phone in his hand with a quizzical expression.

“Not thanking people for bringing you food.”

“It’s her job. She does it several times a day. If I thanked her every time she served us something, she would think I fancied her,” he grins at me cheekily but is met only with my unamused frown. I suppose I shouldn’t be testy about him being blind to the people who serve him; he hasn’t known any other life except one with money and servants.

“She’s still a person, Jake … an employee. No different to what I was to you,” I point out with a surge of irritation and that weird overreactive feeling again. I don’t know if it’s all that’s been going on lately that has me so touchy, but my emotions and moods have been erratic, to say the least.

“You know as well as I do that no one could ever compare to what you were to me … are to me.” His intense look floors me, yet this time when the girl brings a pitcher of fresh orange juice, he thanks her with a winning smile, which makes me smile too, satisfied I have that effect on him. The girl blushes and twirls off, almost skipping away.

“I bet I find her naked in my bed later,” he points out sardonically, but I glower at him and shake my head.

“Being a gentleman doesn’t automatically encourage sexual advances,” I scold, but then bite my tongue when our server returns with the day’s newest papers and lingers a little too long next to Jake with a very improper twinkle in her eye. I sigh and look away, resisting the urge to throw my plate at her head.

“Did you forget who you’re in love with, baby?” he says in front of her, staring at me directly with a raised know-it-all eyebrow, completely ignoring her. His reputation, even in this house, precedes him. As she moves away, a thought occurs to me, and I lean toward him in irritation.

“You never … you know? With her? Or the staff?” I wince at the jealousy in my voice and instantly hate myself.

God, will I always be this insecure?

Jake lifts a fork and digs into the fruit bowl with a smirk, dragging out the silence a moment before answering.

Asshole, he’s enjoying this!

“No, Bambina. I Never touched any of my staff. Never touched any employees until you.” He throws me a wink, then settles down to start stuffing his face heartily. His appetite, as always, is huge. If Jake didn’t work out religiously, then I am sure his muscular frame would carry much more weight.

“Beneath you, I assume?” I snort haughtily, annoyed with the fact he’s enjoying this. He laughs, and despite myself, I smile.

“No, my sweet little hellcat, not beneath me at all. I don’t care what a girl does as a job or what she earns. I don’t, however, like messy lawsuits over the misuse of my position or shocking headlines … anymore.” He throws me a boss Carrero look, and I relax a little with a smirk. I pour syrup on my pancakes and then dig in. Ravenous isn’t even close to describing how hungry I am right now.

“I guess you better dig out my employment contract and make some amendments under the sexual harassment section,” I smirk, lifting an eyebrow in amusement.

“Dolcezza, I literally burned that thing the second I knew I was going to chase you to the ends of the earth. Technically you haven’t been an employee for a very long time,” he winks, and my jaw drops. I can’t tell if he is being serious or not, his face giving nothing away at all.

“You’re kidding, right?” I eye him warily. Surely Jake wouldn’t have done something so underhanded as to remove me as an employee of Carrero Corporation. He isn’t that kind of manipulative, is he?

“Am I?” he smirks between mouthfuls and carries on eating, turning over the paper to the business section and lowering his head to read.

“Of course, you’re kidding,” I add, shaking my head at my own stupidity. “I still got paid every month. I’m pretty sure Legal wouldn’t dish out cash to anyone not on the payroll.”

“Oh, but for a second there, you doubted me,” he grins without looking up. I throw a grape at him, which hits him on the shoulder before falling on his lap.

“With you, I can never tell!” I point out innocently.

“You think a contract would stop me from laying my hands on you?” He looks up, his eyes almost glittering, and I blush. I shake my head, knowing only too well it would never stop the tornado that is Jake Carrero. He smiles at me, tosses the grape onto the table, then leans over and spoons some fruit onto my plate before stealing a bit of my syrup-soaked pancake.

* * *

After breakfast, we wander the gardens in the sunshine, enjoying the quiet before the rush of people getting up. Most of the Carrero family apparently eat in bed on weekends and stay out of sight until the afternoon. They all work and have demanding careers, so they use this time when they are all together to be lazy and relax. This big house and its grounds are all but deserted. Only the staff are running around doing whatever they are paid to do.

Jefferson arrives a little after twelve with a black folder for Jake and several brown envelopes, taking his leave immediately to go wherever it is he goes when Jake does not require him. I guess it’s to go back to New York.

Pulling me with him through the wide patio doors into the kitchen, Jake opens the mail and smiles at me as he fumbles through papers.

“Here.” He holds out a gold card to me without looking up. I automatically take it and notice my name on the front. It’s a credit card.

“What’s this for?” I glance at him in confusion.

“For abusing, dolcezza.” He pulls out some papers and flips them over, practically ignoring me.

“Why do I need this?” I put it down on the counter and slide it back to him, but he only stops my hand mid-push and slides it back toward me with a frown.

“Because you’re my girlfriend, and I pay for the standard of living I’m trying to get you used to.” His tone is edgy; we glare at one another for a moment, and I bristle internally.

This is not part of the deal, Carrero!

“I’m fine with how things are. I don’t need you giving me this on top of everything you already paid for and bought me,” I retort, but I catch his full undivided angry glare this time.

“Well, you’re going to be pissed with this then.” He flops down the paperwork in front of me, almost challengingly. I take it, eyeing him warily, and notice it’s a contract. My contract, with my new position in his corporation, with a pay rise of almost ten times what I have been paid previously. I almost choke. I had always earned top dollar as a PA, but this amount tops some company executives’ salaries. My gaze snaps up at him in complete confusion.

“I don’t need this,” I gasp, but he only shrugs. So many conflicting emotions hit me at once.

“Regardless of whether you do or don’t, I told you we had reshuffled our job roles. This is just an informality required by legal.” He leans down and kisses me on the temple before moving the rest of his papers to the table and sitting down. Picking up the credit card and the contract, I walk over and toss them down in front of him, folding my arms stubbornly.

You will not buy me or control me this way!

“I do not require any more money or a new title. This says I’m your VP … your second in command?”

“Well, you’re already that. Time you got paid for it and some recognition.” He’s already flicking through papers, trying to dismiss me.

I don’t think so!

“Jake, first, you don’t even let me go to work anymore, so I shouldn’t be getting paid anything at all!” I snap haughtily. “And second, everyone in the building will think you did this because you’re screwing me,” I balk, emotion rising inside me at an alarming speed.

“Don’t turn this into a fight,” he sighs with a wave of his hand, domineering Carrero returning in full.

“Don’t make our relationship about money,” I snap again, tears brimming to the surface with this damn crazy sensitivity I have lately.

What the hell is with that?

“You’re the only one doing that,” he snaps back, equally riled, and slides his chair back in agitation. “Emma, get used to being rich because I’ll marry you, and, like it or not, I’ve no plans to go bankrupt in my lifetime. My money will be your money too and trust me, there is a lot more than either of us can spend in a lifetime.”

He gets up, pushes past me, stalks to the fridge, retrieves a water bottle, and takes a drink before turning back to me a little more calmly. I’m still glaring at him defiantly, with my arms crossed.

“Look, I get it,” he says with composure. “I’m not stupid. I know you. I know it’s hard for you to accept anything from anyone you don’t think you’ve earned … independence in case everything goes to shit. This … us … it’s not going to end, Emma, and you deserve everything I have to give. I happen to have shitloads of money, and I want you not to need to ask me to splurge on yourself. This way, you can have your own money and do what you want with it. The credit card is for when you get used to abusing my finances and letting me pay for things instead,” he sighs, watching me, my face still bathed in irritation.

Walking back to me, he reaches out and slides his hand up my arm to my jawline. I turn my face away. I don’t know how to feel about this right now, an internal war waging, independent, and fearless Emma showing her face.

“Baby, please … I know you’re not with me because of this. You don’t have anything to prove. It’s okay to enjoy having a filthy rich boyfriend; there’s no shame in it.” He kisses me gently and relaxes as I start to respond to it, always incapable of maintaining a mood when he touches me. His mouth opens to mine and soon engulfs me in a hot, searing kiss.

“I don’t want this,” I finally sigh, calmer, and push the contract back at him. “I don’t need it.” It’s true. Jake already pays for everything, leaving most of my monthly salary untouched. Only the regular bills toward the apartment with Sarah come out. Jake is generous to a fault: he has Donna bring me clothes and lingerie often, he feeds me almost ritually, and I never want for anything. I never have to spend anything. I don’t need a bank account filling up with money I won’t use, money I’m not even earning anymore. I’m not one to go shopping often or splurge on things for fun.

Since Jake has decided that work is out of the question, I don’t do anything to deserve any money at all. I’ve only been accepting my monthly paycheck on the understanding we will eventually go back to work, and I will do something to be paid for so that I can pay Sarah for my room.

“If you don’t sign the contract, I’ll stop sleeping with you until you do,” he smiles wickedly with that stubborn look in his eyes. He means it.

“You would cave before I did,” I retort, turning my back to him in defiance, folding my arms across my chest again, not too enamored with threats right now. His hand slides down my summer dress, across the curve of my ass gently, igniting a million sensations effortlessly.

“Baby, you held me at arm’s length for almost a year … I’m sure I can handle it.” I catch the amusement in his voice. He believes he has me over a barrel, which only spurs my determination. A battle of wills.

“Fine. You want to play games over this? Then we’re on. No sex until I sign? Get used to a very platonic relationship, baby!” I respond, using his term of endearment. I grin smartly as I wiggle my ass into his crotch before sauntering off and leaving him standing alone with his contract and credit card on the table. An inner goddess has lifted her sassy head and decided to beat him down with his own methods. He follows close behind, catching me by the arm and pulling me back, a smug look on his face.

“Game on, sweetheart. No rules. The first one to cave loses. Either you sign the contract, or I can’t take it anymore and fuck you. I do not doubt you’ll sign it before we head home, Bambina.” His voice is thick and laden with intent; I can see the glint of excitement in his eyes at the chance for a new game. His cocky confidence that he will win only ignites something inside of me.

Well, really?

“No rules? At all?” I flutter my lashes innocently before running my hand up his sweatpants-covered leg, sliding it under his waistband and seeking out his manhood, rubbing him under his boxers until I get a response. He catches my wrist and yanks it away, nose to nose.

“You forget who’s better at the art of seduction, Emma. You’re the one who likes instant gratification and can never wait … I, on the other hand, like to drag things out, remember?” His mouth lingers close enough to mine; I think he will kiss me, our breathing heavier as lust builds in both of us. The excitement of this little game sparks something naughty in me and pushes all my anger out of the window.

He moves even closer, breathing against my lips as his hand comes up my inner thigh slowly and deliciously under my short dress, creeping closer to my now wet panties until he sees my lips part and my eyes get heavy with longing. With his mouth teasingly near, I struggle with the urge to reach up and suck one of his perfect, smooth, soft lips. He smiles and pushes me off, turning and walking away. I’m left reeling, my body tingling and my inner core throbbing with heat. That backward smug look of his as he saunters away only ignites my self-doubt.

Why did I start this? I know better than anyone that he has more ‘sexpertise’ than most.

I tremble at the thought of what he’s capable of, but I try to push aside the thrill of excitement I feel over the lure of being chased and turned on by Jake to have me begging him for sex. The thought of him pulling out all stops to make me yield is strangely appealing.

We’ll see. I know one thing for sure—when he said ‘no rules,’ he didn’t consider that by turning me on, he would have to fight himself not to lose control. On the other hand, I can seduce to my heart’s content, which tips the odds in my favor. I can make Jake insane with longing, push him to take me forcefully.

A shiver of excitement courses through me; I can pull out all the stops to seduce him, but he has to keep it at a level that leaves him able to stop. I know how to push his buttons. It’s almost certain that I’ll win if it comes down to that. I can’t deny that I feel excitement at seeing my aggressive lover again, that part of me that needs primal sex and his lack of control.

I walk out into the hall in search of him and find him in the middle of a friendly group of casually dressed people, with more appearing from various directions, all talking animatedly. He pulls me close to introduce me to his brother again, his current girlfriend, his cousins with women in tow, and a few other family and friends his mother invited.

Arrick and Jake head off into a quiet corner together, laughing and joking; I know he’s trying to put distance between us in the name of his game, and I’m left in the maternal hold of Sylvana’s arm, in a throng of loud, energetic people all vying to get each other’s attention. The overall atmosphere is noisy and bustling, but I can feel the genuine warmth and energy. These people actually like one another.

Before long, Sylvana moves us to the poolside loungers, where everyone spreads out, forming little huddles. Arrick’s young girlfriend seems painfully shy and sticks close to me, probably feeling as left out as I do, with both our men seemingly ignoring us. Jake has barely looked my way and is doing a magnificent job of making me feel invisible.

Just great!

I like Arrick’s girlfriend, I guess; Cara’s sweet and shy, and despite being maybe five years younger than me, it’s striking how similar we look. We both have tawny hair, highlighted to blonde in waves, small and busty, with soft gray-blue eyes. I guess the Carrero brothers have a type. The only obvious difference is that she seems incredibly shy and mousy, whereas I’m more of a silent, outwardly confident type by manufacture. She shadows me to the loungers and seems relieved to get a seat right beside me on the double bed.

Across the other side of the pool, Jake and Arrick strip off, so different in build. Arrick is athletic and young with a lot of lean muscle to his frame, whereas Jake is all hard ridges, power, and manliness. There is a lot more of him compared next to his smaller sibling. He throws me a look and a smile that screams ‘game on’ and then dives expertly into the water, closely followed by his equally stunning younger brother.

“Wow, Jake has a lot of tattoos,” Cara exclaims, watching the men in wonder. I glance over at her and get that familiar hint of jealousy starting to rise from my stomach. Her eyes are wide with appreciation, and her mouth is parted; I can see she’s starting to pant.

For God’s sake.

“Yeah, I guess … He got them all in his late teens.” We have never really talked about the tribal ink across his upper torso scattered down his arms. I know he also has one on his upper back spreading across his shoulder blades, all black, no color.

“It’s kind of hot. I wonder if Arrick would get some?” she whispers dreamily, watching the two swimming easily across the pool and then splashing water at each other. I can hear Jake’s laugh echoing my way, making my insides clench.

Is it now? Want to put your eyes back in your head, sweetie?

“I’m sure his parents wouldn’t be impressed,” I respond flatly. “I know they both hate Jake’s.” Which isn’t entirely dishonest. I know they both gave him a lot of grief about them at first, but neither seems to have noticed the additions in later years. Jake briefly mentioned wanting a new tattoo only recently.

“What’s to hate? I mean, on that body, they only accentuate things,” she grins, then immediately drops it when she catches my look, inner green-eyed me scowling unnecessarily. I know it’s normal for people to check out Jake. Everyone does it. Still, I don’t need someone sitting beside me verbalizing it, especially not someone so young and beautiful with an obvious resemblance to me, a more youthful, less fucked-up model.

That’s called severe insecurity, Emma!

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” she adds hastily. “How long have you been dating?” she asks quietly, obviously trying to make amends for the ogling, her eyes still on the water and the swimming men.

“A while,” I answer, contemplating poking her in the eyeballs. In truth, not long at all, but as Jake always tells me, this relationship started long before it officially did, and I’m happy to let her believe it.

Marking your territory?

“Wow, so, like, as in real dating, not just sex?” She looks impressed. Her eyes again flick to him as he pulls himself out of the water at the far side, a vision of smooth muscle and gorgeousness.

Maybe you need a poke in the brain, followed by a sharp jab in the throat!

“If you’re asking if we’re serious, then yes. I live with him. He loves me,” I point out flatly and turn to the magazines on the low table, picking up the first on the pile, trying to act indifferent to her and succeeding, something I was always good at.

“How did you manage that? I heard Jake was a hopeless womanizer, more chance of getting blood from a stone.” She looks me up and down, and I can tell she’s comparing us as she pushes her bust out and rearranges her legs on the lounger.

I swear, honey, you’re going to meet the water in a second, and I’m sure swimming will be hard with my foot on your head.

“I didn’t do anything; Jake is the one who pursued me … relentlessly.” I smile to myself. Even though our relationship is far more complex, it sounds good to summarize it that way. I glance over at him, now back in the pool, and see his smile turned our way, that familiar inner heat hitting me with eye contact and distracting me from my crazy jealousy for a second. I still my response and raise an eyebrow at him instead.

He’s the one keeping his distance. He doesn’t get a smile for it.

“I guess you either had a chastity belt to stave that off or were an absolute tiger in bed to keep him interested,” she smiles, her eyes focused on Jake as he pulls himself out of the pool again, his shorts now clinging to his butt and thighs and showing off every muscle perfectly, not to mention how much he is packing below the waist. Her head follows him as he strolls across the side, her eyes widening at his obvious bulge and how his muscles flex and tense as he moves and lifts a towel from a nearby lounger.

I hate you.

The girl has irritated me enough; I ignore her and turn on my side, away from her, to get a grip on my irrational thoughts and violent intentions, opening the magazine to make it clear I’m done.

She shifts on the lounger, and her foot grazes me as she maneuvers herself into a new position. Glancing back in anger, I catch her posing like a wanton tramp, thrusting her bust forward and exposing her leg through her open wrap as Jake approaches.

I guess I was wrong about this one. Not so sweet and nice after all. Definitely ripe for a brutal beating.

I jump up and walk away from the lounger. Jake doesn’t stop to acknowledge me; instead, he continues walking toward the lounger and sits beside her in the space I’d just vacated, making me stop dead in my tracks.

What the F …? Jake always soothes my jealousy!

She positively beams at him despite him shedding water all over her. Giving him a haughty glare, I go back and sit on the lounger next to them. I’m not leaving with him acting like an asshole. I sit a foot away and pick up my magazine again, ignoring his grin and jutting my chin out in anger. I can feel his wicked gaze flicking my way and see how he’s sprawled out casually beside her, all tanned, carved torso and long legs.

Asshole.

“So, Cara … Arrick tells me you’re a freshman in college?” His smooth Casanova Carrero voice eases over her, and I want to throat-punch him. He’s in flirt mode. I can tell by his entire manner. I suppress the urge to openly glare at him, pushing the magazine open to another page aggressively.

“Umm, yes, Jake.” She rolls his name on her tongue as seductively as she can. I look up and see Arrick shaking his head in amusement, which only angers me more.

Isn’t this his girlfriend? This girl who’s practically spreading her legs for my boyfriend to bang her?

My rage ignites, and I get up and storm off toward the house. I need to get out of this sundress and into something that Jake will notice. I reel when I see he doesn’t follow me. Hurt and anger battling one another, I catch a smug look in his eye when I glance back. It’s all part of his little game; he thinks he can make my jealousy work against me, so I’ll cave and beg him to come to make love to me.

I think not.

I lift my chin defiantly.