Ruthless In A Suit (Book Two) Read online

  Ruthless In A Suit (Book Two)

  Ivy Carter

  Favor Ford Publishing

  Contents

  Want To Be In The Know?

  Ruthless in A Suit by Ivy Carter

  Book Two

  Copyright © 2016 by Favor Ford Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Ruthless in A Suit by Ivy Carter

  Book Two

  CADENCE

  I slip on the yellow dress and step into the ivory heels that perfectly match the sash on the dress. My skin is still buzzing from last night. When I told Levi there were other things we could do, I wasn’t sure what would come next.

  I didn’t know if Levi could do to me what everything about him seemed to promise…

  But Levi was just as sure with my body as he was driving his BMW down narrow back roads to the Cape or negotiating a billion dollar corporate merger.

  Just the thought of his tongue sends shivers up my spine. I have never had an orgasm like that. I didn’t know I could have an orgasm like that. And like an addict, all I can think about is more.

  I want so much more.

  If I think about it too hard or for too long, my mind immediately circles back to one recurring thought: How did I get here?

  How, in the span of just a few days, did I go from single and unemployed, to highly paid assistant who gets naked with her super hot boss?

  It’s a thought that I know is going to stay with me for the duration of the wedding. I spend a few minutes braiding my hair down my right shoulder, letting a few curly tendrils escape around my face.

  I brush on a swipe of mascara and a sweep of lip gloss, then step out of the bathroom.

  Levi is standing across the room, his back to me as he gazes out the window at the ocean, his hands in his pockets. It gives me a moment to take him in, his six-foot frame in an impeccably tailored navy suit.

  His hair is illuminated by the early afternoon sun.

  It brings out the subtle lighter tones in his otherwise dark hair. Seeing him standing there makes me feel like I’m watching him on a movie screen.

  There’s no way he can be real.

  There’s no way he did that to my body last night.

  And yet …

  “Ready,” I say finally, after I’m sure my palms have stopped sweating and my heart has slowed down from its audible boom.

  He turns, and as soon as he catches sight of me, he sucks in a breath before quickly recovering his normally suave demeanor.

  “Nice dress,” he says, casual and smooth, but his eyes don’t leave the deep V-neck of the dress and the way the curve of my breasts form a perfect valley.

  “Isn’t it?” I execute a twirl and a mini curtsy, then shrug. “Some crazy guy bought it for me.”

  “Must be some total lunatic,” he replies, striding towards me, snaking his arms around my waist and pulling me in for a deep kiss. He nips at my lower lip just as one hand begins to drift down to my bare thigh. Then it begins to slowly creep upwards until his fingers are tugging at the edge of the lace boy shorts that hug my butt.

  He groans into my mouth, and I can feel him growing hard against me. This man is really testing my resolve.

  “If you don’t stop that, we’re going to be late to the wedding.”

  His groan is more frustrated this time, but his fingers don’t stop. I step my legs apart, my body instinctually responding to his touch. With the tiniest slight of hand, his fingers slip beneath the lace and into the warm folds of my skin. My head drops back, and he takes the opportunity to seize my neck with his teeth and tongue. I worry if this keeps up I’m going to collapse to the floor in a heap.

  As if he can read my thoughts, his grip on me tightens, and I know he’d never let me hit the ground. First one finger, then two, explore deep inside me as his thumb lands firmly on my clit. I shudder in a breath as I start to lean back, pushing into him.

  His lips move to my ear, his breath hot as he whispers, “Come for me.”

  And within seconds, under the sure and steady work of his fingers, I do. It hits me in waves, pushing and pulling like the tide, and I’m powerless to stop it.

  All I can do it ride it out to its glorious end.

  My knees shake, but he holds me up and to him as the waves take me over and my orgasm becomes a living part of me. If he’s that good with his fingers, I can’t imagine what he could do with his cock…

  When I’ve finally found myself back on solid ground, my cheeks warm, my fingers begin their slow descent until I have his hardness in my grip.

  “Now we really will be late,” he says, though I can tell he’s seriously trying to buy himself some time. “We will return to this, though.”

  “Damn right,” I say, giving him a squeeze before I turn and saunter towards the door. I don’t have to look. I know his eyes are on my ass, which sways lazily as I walk in these heels. Then I turn and glance over my shoulder. “You’re next.”

  By the time we finally get down to the wedding, we’re mere minutes away from the start of the ceremony.

  Levi leads me down through a lobby area full of antique furniture and clapboard coffee tables, a roaring fire in a two-story stone fire place blazing despite the sunny spring day. We head toward the French doors that lead out to the patio where the ceremony will be held, and just before we make it, I glimpse a flash of white.

  His friend Julia is already in place just outside the French doors that overlook the travertine tile of the patio, which has a backdrop of a crystal blue sky abutting the sapphire waves of the Atlantic.

  The day couldn’t be more picturesque if someone painted it from their imagination.

  Julia is a vision in her wedding dress, a simple, heavy silk gown with an A-line skirt, a V-neck, and delicate embroidery around the waist. Her blond hair is pulled back from her face, and a gauzy lace veil is perched on the back of her head, cascading down behind her.

  It’s the kind of simple yet exquisite bridal look that you just know cost at least six figures and was likely made just for her by the actual Vera Wang, and not someone working in her factory.

  Julia looks like European royalty with her blond hair and ice blue eyes, her milky white skin and her little ski slope nose. If France still had a monarchy, Julia would be their Queen. Just from looking at her, I imagine Logan to look like a Ken doll meetings Prince William (before he lost his hair). I’ve never seen anything like the life I’m experiencing so far at the Radnor Estate.

  I feel like Levi has opening a door to a whole new world and is serving as my escort to show it all to me.

  Levi tries to duck through the doors undetected, pulling me along after him, but Julia gets one look at him, arches a perfectly plucked eyebrow, and calls out to him.

  “Levi Maxon, don’t you think for one second that we’re not going to talk about you nearly missing this wedding.”

  “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he asks with cocky self-assuredness.

  “I’ll find you at the reception,” she says, gesturing with her heavy bouquet of pale pink peonies. “Now get your ass to your seat so we can get this show on the road.”

  She smooths the front of her dress, which was definitely not in need of it. Everything about her is perfect, down to the fact that I don’t even want to hate her because of it. She seems genuinely cool and funny and self-assured, on top of being rich and gorgeous.

  “It’s time to finally marry that idiot.” She smiles, and I can tell it’s said with all the love in the world.

  “Don’t you mean your soul mate?” Levi says, with more than a little sarcasm.

  “That’s what I said,” she winks.

  We take our seats near the back, though that doesn’t stop every eye in the crowd from turning to take us in when we step onto the patio. There are more than a few whispers and mutters scattered throughout the crowd, and I know something about Levi being here, maybe even being here with me, is big news in this scene.

  I wonder if Levi has a reputation that precedes him. I could certainly venture a guess as to what it might be.

  I imagine him kissing a tall, gorgeous, leggy model type and find my stomach clenching with jealousy.

  Which of course makes me wonder what in the hell he’s doing with me.

  “I hate weddings,” Levi mutters under his breath.

  “I’ve never been to one like this,” I reply, gazing around at all the women in their elegant spring pastels, the men in their navy and gray suits. How did they all get the memo to dress like that? While I wouldn’t put it past someone like Julia to issue a dress code with her invitation, something tells me this is all just custom amongst a crowd like this.

  Levi looks at me sideways, but before he can say anything, a string quartet begins to play something sweet and vaguely familiar, and the French doors open for real this time. The crowd gasps as Julia steps out on her father’s arm and glides down the aisle as if carried on a cloud.

  I never was the kind of girl who gave much thought to weddings until toda
y.

  None of my friends from high school or RISD are even close to getting married, and Dad and Brenda just went down to City Hall, with a post-nuptial celebration at Legal Seafood after.

  So I have no idea what to expect from this event, other than what I’ve seen on TV and in the movies.

  But Julia and Logan put Hollywood to shame.

  Just as I pictured, Logan is waiting for Julia at the end of the aisle, tall and blond and built like a Swedish downhill skier. There’s easily two hundred people in the chairs in front of him, but his eyes are only on Julia, a warm smile aimed only at her.

  After her father shakes Logan’s hand and kisses her on the cheek, he returns to his seat and the couple join hands.

  As they begin their vows, I’m surprised to feel tears well up at the back of my eyes. As they promise to love, honor, and cherish one another for all the days of their lives, I think of how much I want that. I want someone who looks at me the way Logan looks at Julia, who can stand up in front of everyone they know and say that they’ll promise to love me and only me for the rest of my life and longer.

  For the first time ever, I want this badly. All I can think about is the man sitting next to me, the way he looks at me, and the way he makes me feel.

  Maybe I can actually trust this, trust Levi, and the feelings I’m having for him.

  He could be it.

  This could be the start.

  LEVI

  What the hell am I doing?

  That’s all I can think of as I try to focus on Logan and Julia sliding rings onto each others’ fingers and vowing to love one another for all eternity. And when I chance a glance over at Cadence and see the first tear begin to slide down her pink cheek, I know for sure that my plan is working all too well.

  And I hate myself for knowing it would.

  Without thinking, I reach over and take her hand in mine, threading our fingers together. I pull her hand into my lap and stroke her palm with my thumb, and though I don’t look at her, I can practically feel the smile radiating off her entire body.

  My genuine feelings for Cadence have thrown a wrench in my big plans.

  Now it’s all screwed up, because I started this entire affair in bad faith. And I don’t think anything good can come of something that originated from a place of selfishness and deceit.

  I don’t deserve her.

  And yet…I still want this. I want her more than ever now, and that’s the killer.

  Everything couldn’t be more right and more wrong at the same time.

  The ceremony ends, Logan dips Julia for a tasteful yet tender kiss, and when the strings start up again, they stride arm in arm down the aisle, their smiles brighter than the afternoon sun.

  Just before they pass us, Logan catches sight of me, his gaze settling immediately to Cadence’s hand in mine.

  His eyebrows raise, and I can practically hear his thoughts. Levi Maxon showing tenderness to a woman in public? Has the entire ocean frozen over in May?

  Logan elbows Julia, who takes in Cadence and me for a second time.

  Later, she mouths before the newlyweds disappear back through the French doors.

  Have I mentioned that I am so fucked?

  The reception begins in the ballroom after an extended cocktail hour on the patio.

  The ballroom is set for dinner with bone china and crystal and sterling silver, flowers draped over every solid surface. A jazz band in white dinner jackets plays on a low stage at the front of the room, a few couples already performing box steps on the lacquered dance floor.

  Tuxedoed waiters move seamlessly through the room holding silver trays of champagne and appetizers aloft while groups of guests mingle and catch up throughout the room.

  As we walk in, I hear Cadence gasp at the sight.

  “This is gorgeous,” she whispers, as if someone will overhear.

  “This is Julia,” I reply matter-of-factly.

  And it’s true. Everything here comes straight from Julia’s diligent and painstaking attention to detail.

  “The nicest party I’ve ever attended until this was my prom,” Cadence says ruefully. “And that was held at the Shiner’s Auditorium, which had hosted the circus two days prior. I’m pretty sure the place still smelled like elephant poop.”

  “Julia planned our prom, and it was nearly this nice,” I tell her, not that I remember much of it. I spent a good bit of the evening drunk and ignoring my date, a set-up with one of my father’s golf buddies. I hadn’t even wanted to go in the first place, but apparently a good showing at the Country Day prom was required of a Maxon, even though my mother had only died a year previously and I barely wanted to leave the house.

  I come back to the present as Julia glides into the room.

  The bride appears as if she were summoned by the mere utterance of her name. I squeeze Cadence’s hand and pull her close instinctively, protectively.

  Julia has a good heart and means well, but her tenacity can be a bit frightening to people who haven’t known her for twenty years. I worry that the force of her personality might break someone like Cadence, who isn’t used to the cutthroat society scene that the rest of us grew up in and are accustomed to.

  Julia approaches us, her eyes fixated on Cadence as she moves towards us.

  “Speak of the – “ I say, but Julia holds up a manicured hand, glancing from Cadence back to me now.

  “Don’t you dare, Levi Maxon. Not on my wedding day.” She pauses to brush a stray hair from her face. “I will not tolerate your lip today.”

  “Where’s your better half?” I ask, trying to slow her down.

  “Photos with his third cousins or some such nonsense. Now stop stalling and tell me about your better half.” Her eyes dart pointedly down to Cadence’s hand folded in mine.

  Before I can answer, Cadence pulls her hand from mine and offers it to Julia with a wide smile.

  “I’m Cadence Fallon. Thank you so much for having me. The ceremony was absolutely beautiful.”

  I’ve never seen anyone, male or female, who wasn’t at least fifty percent intimidated when meeting Julia. But Cadence seems perfectly at ease, despite the fact that I know this isn’t her usual scene.

  Something about watching her match Julia for elegance and grace makes me feel a bit light headed.

  This is almost too perfect.

  I don’t think even in my wildest dreams I imagined this could go so well. And now I’m sweating a little bit, because the overpowering guilt I feel is ruining what should be a lovely day.

  “I like her,” Julia says to me.

  “I’m going to hit the ladies room and let you two catch up,” Cadence says. I can’t help but watch her perfect ass as it disappears into the crowd.

  Julia takes a seat at Cadence’s place card, so I follow her lead and sit at mine.

  “You’ve got it bad,” she says with a Cheshire grin.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I reply, feigning indifference to the subject.

  “Hey, I encourage it. You’ve spent way too long being an office hermit.”

  “You sound like my father.”

  “Say that again, and I’ll stab you with this sterling silver flatware,” she says, fingering a fork. Julia knows all too well what it was like to grow up with my father.

  I catch a glimpse of Cadence from across the room as she re-enters. She walks confidently, yet still carefully, through the crowd, that gorgeous yellow dress hugging every inch of her curves.

  A tuxedoed waiter offers Cadence a silver tray of champagne glasses. She looks unsure for a moment, but finally takes one with a wide smile, her lips forming a delicate thank you.

  When I see her standing there, looking somehow out of place and yet completely at home in this extravagant setting—I get an intense wave of excitement that settles in my chest.

  Fuck.

  Look at her there, the curve of her ass in that dress, the way it shows off her cleavage in that tantalizing way. Cadence has it all—innocent yet sexy, hesitant yet willing, cautious but intoxicatingly free.

  I want her.

  Right fucking now.