Page 13 of Sold to Her Enemy

There’s no denying that’s true.

Davis Moran made discoveries in ciphering that the industry is only now catching up to. He developed a shelf-stabilizing compound that made food last longer on the shelves and saved lives. All Davis wanted to do was help people.

But the man couldn’t keep money. It slid through his fingers like sand, disappearing as soon as he touched it.

When they set up McIntyre-Moran Industries, my father graciously set it up, so all of Davis’s assets were protected under the company’s umbrella.

Davis could never have foreseen that would have been his downfall as much as being unable to hang onto money was.

Mckenna swallows on my cock, reflexively. I reach down and pull her hair. Her eyes flash with anger.

“You’re a filthy slut, only good for keeping my cock warm.”

Remembering her reaction in the dressing room, I scoop up some saliva and dribble it along her cheeks, smearing some on her forehead.

Her breathing is shallow, the pulse at her neck jumps and all the blood rushes to my cock as it throbs in her lava mouth.

I am relishing the fact that there is a part of her that is enjoying this mistreatment.

Wiping my finger in her hair, I return to my phone.

Davis Moran is an affable man, never one to raise his voice, and a man happy to follow others, and that’s what made him a prime target in the end.

My father, a man who naturally oozes power and confidence, wanted to get into the biotech world. It was a happenstance meeting at Yale, where he was leaving a lecture hall. Mckenna’s father was walking into the building, his nose in a book.

The meeting was comical but the start of a perfect business marriage.

At the height of MM Industries, movie executives were circling, wanting our fathers to sell their story. A part of me wishes they had.

My parents took Mckenna’s family under their wing, introducing them to Boston’s elite society.

By the time Mckenna and I were born, it was like her family had always been one of Boston’s wealthiest. Her mother held epic dinner parties, loved to shop, and joined my mother in various charity works. The transition was seamless, with no cracks showing.

The crack came years later.

The car turns into my estate in the Palmer Woods neighborhood. It’s an ultramodern house made of architectural glass, blocks stacked on each other in an “L” shape. The house is fine; it was the first one on the market when I was looking to move here, but I am a little homesick for the charm of my Boston home.

Jared pulls into the covered garage.

Grabbing a fistful of Mckenna’s auburn strands, I yank her head up and let my cock fall from her mouth before circling her head. “I can smell how aroused you are, hellion. I bet your panties are soaked, aren’t they?” She glares at me, but licks her lips.

“I hate you!”

“I know, and your anger is so sweet.” I let go of her hair and adjust myself so I’m decent by the time Jared comes around and opens my door. I step out and straighten my suit jacket.

“Bring Miss Moran’s bags inside,” I tell him.

“Should I put her in the downstairs guest room?”

“No, my room will be fine.”

I don’t know if Mckenna heard me, but her posture is straight as if she’s frozen in place. I can’t have that.

“Get out, Mckenna.”

She does and stands in front of me. My heart races because a part of me wants to swoop her into my arms and take us back in time to when, if she had only said yes to me, our lives would have turned out very differently.

But there’s no point in dwelling on the past. As I think of how many times this woman said no to me, whether I asked her for a bike ride or a trail ride, to take her to the homecoming dance, or to tutor me in biology, she coolly said “no” every single time, my resolve sharpens.

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