The Real Heiress Returns Five Brothers on Their Knees novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: Last Names

Coralie demands Winslow's last name, learns he is Taft and tells him she is a Livingstone. He swears he has never met Brynn, and they fight and fall into each other on the kitchen island until two texts arrive: a dinner summons from her brother and a surprise for him from his great-grandmother.

Winslow's penthouse smelled like garlic and butter.

He stood at the stove with his sleeves rolled to the elbow and a wooden spoon in his hand.

The silver ring flashed every time he stirred.

"You came," he said, and he smiled with his whole face.

I dropped my suitcase by the door.

I had swallowed his pill in the taxi, dry, staring at the back of the driver's head.

I did not feel better for it.

"What's your last name?"

The spoon stopped.

"We have a rule," he said carefully.

"I made the rule. It was a bad rule. What's your last name?"

He turned off the burner before he answered.

"Taft."

The word landed where I had known it would.

"Winslow Taft," I said.

"Yes."

"Taft Freight. Taft Harbor. The man Brynn Livingstone calls her almost-fiancé."

His face changed.

It was not guilt.

It was the face of a man hearing a name he had been refusing for twelve years.

"Brynn Livingstone," he said. "Is that who you met today?"

"She gave me flowers. She's very kind."

"I have never met her, Coralie. I've never spoken to her, and I've never once agreed to anything. My family signs me up for dinners, and I don't go."

"That's what you said this morning."

"Because it's true."

"You also said you were in shipping."

"I am in shipping."

"You own the ships!"

He set the spoon down.

"I wanted one person in Seattle who didn't know that," he said. "You never asked."

"I made a rule so I wouldn't have to."

"I know." His voice dropped. "I liked the rule."

I should have been quieter about what came next.

"My name's Coralie Livingstone," I said. "I was Coralie Marsh until three months ago. The Livingstones raised the wrong baby. I'm the one they lost. Brynn is the one they kept."

For a long moment he didn't move.

Then he looked at my mouth, and my coat, studying my face with sudden recognition.

"You're the Livingstone daughter," he said. "The real one."

"I'm the one at the airport this afternoon who got called a woman who pays for kisses."

His eyes went flat and dangerous.

"Who said that?"

"My brother. In front of forty people."

"Which brother?"

"Colton. Don't."

"I won't." He walked around the counter. "Not tonight."

"You hid your name."

"You hid yours."

"I was Marsh. That was my name."

"And I was in shipping." He stopped in front of me. "We were both lying, and we were both good at it."

"I'm still angry."

"So am I."

"Then why are you standing so close?"

"Because you came home."

I hit his chest with my open hand.

He caught my wrist and kissed my palm, and that was all it took.

I grabbed his shirt and he lifted me onto the kitchen island.

The marble was cold through my leggings.

He pushed my coat off my shoulders and pulled my sweater over my head.

He looked at me for a second, in the kitchen light, with the whole afternoon still on my skin.

"Look at you," he said, low. "I've wanted you in daylight for a month."

"Stop talking."

"No."

He put his mouth on my breast through my bra and my head fell back.

He unhooked it with one hand.

His mouth was hot, and he took his time, and I pulled his hair hard enough to make him groan.

"I love your body," he said against my skin. "Every inch of it. I never want you to hide it again."

"Winslow."

"Say it again."

"Winslow."

He tugged my leggings down my legs, and my underwear with them.

He knelt on the kitchen tile and spread my thighs wide.

"I'm going to make you forget what your brother said."

His tongue slid over my clit, slow, and my whole body jerked.

I gripped the edge of the marble.

He licked me, and then he sucked me, and he held my hips down when I tried to rock into him.

"Please," I said.

"Not yet."

He used two fingers, thick and sure, curling inside my pussy until I was shaking.

I came with a cry that echoed off the cabinets, my hand fisted in his hair.

He stood while I was still gasping.

He unbuckled his belt.

His cock was hard and heavy in his hand.

He looked at me and waited.

"Take it," I said. "Now. Fuck me."

He pulled me to the edge of the island and pushed inside me in one long thrust.

We both groaned.

"You feel so good," he said. "I've thought about this all day."

He fucked me hard, my legs around his waist, his ring hand on my thigh.

The island rocked against the wall.

His mouth was at my ear, telling me everything he wanted.

I came again with his name in my mouth, and he came right after, buried deep, shaking.

He leaned his forehead against mine.

We stayed there, breathing.

My phone buzzed on the marble beside my head.

It was a text from my oldest brother, Dalton Livingstone, a number I had saved three weeks ago.

*Dinner at eight. Come, or don't bother coming at all.*

Winslow's phone buzzed on the counter at the same second.

He glanced at the screen and went still.

*Great-grandmother Winifred: Come to the house by nine. We have a surprise for you.*

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