by Jordan Marie

Copyright © 2016 by Jordan Marie

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including but not limited to being stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, groups, businesses, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover Design by Robin Harper of Wicked By Design

Cover Model by Thomas DeLauer

Photographer by Michael Stokes

Interior Design & Editing by Daryl Banner

DISCLAIMER: This book is intended for mature audiences. It contains adult language and explicit sexuality. Not intended for readers under the age of 18. Reader discretion advised.

Other work by Amazon Bestselling Author Jordan Marie

Savage Brothers MC

Breaking Dragon

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Saving Dancer

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Loving Nicole

http://amzn.to/1NoGhGs

Claiming Crusher

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Trusting Bull

http://amzn.to/23CWJ7N

Devil’s Blaze MC

Captured (Book 1)

http://amzn.to/1WWpaxe

Burned (Book 2)

http://amzn.to/24Hk3Uq

Released (Book 3)

http://amzn.to/29FbTKt

Other work by Baylee Rose, a pen name of Jordan Marie

Filthy Florida Alphas

Unlawful Seizure (Book 1)

http://amzn.to/23CWOZc

Unjustified Demands (Book 2)

http://amzn.to/23CWNEC

Unwritten Rules (Book 3)

Coming Soon …

To all the people who took a chance on me, read me, and encouraged me. I owe you the world.

XOXO

J

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Epilogue Part 1

Epilogue Part 2

Epilogue Part 3

Acknowledgements

Sneak Peek

Baylee Rose’s “Unjustified Demands”

The trouble with being from a small town is that everyone knows everyone. I’ve lived here my whole life. It’s not been good, but it’s not been bad. We didn’t have much—just me and Banger. Banger was my dad. Well, sort of. He’s actually the old man that my womb donor shacked up with. She ran off with a traveling vacuum salesman when I was seven and it’s just been me and Banger ever since. Yes, I know my life has been pretty cliché. I deal. Banger was a former POW. He’s a big, growly, bearded mountain of a man who never made me feel unwanted. He didn’t know much about having kids—never mind if that kid was a girl—but we muddled through.

By the time I was ten, I could change oil, rotate tires, and rebuild carburetors. By the time I was fifteen, I could rebuild an engine. I mastered transmissions at the age of sixteen. Banger said I was a natural, but the truth was that I just wanted to make him proud. He owned the only garage in town, and I wanted to make sure I helped him as much as I could.

He found out he had cancer on my seventeenth birthday. We got drunk together. Banger was many things, but he wasn’t worried about legalities or society rules. It’s probably one of the things I loved most about him. He passed away the summer I turned nineteen and I just kind of found myself taking over the garage. Now at the age of twenty-six, the people in Crossville, Kentucky know me pretty well. They’ve learned to trust my work, and Claude’s garage stays busy. That’s my name, by the way. Claudia Cooper. Banger always called me Claude and it just stuck. If it ever bothered me, I’ve learned to accept it now. I’ve found that with life, you just have to deal with what it gives you. Things could always be worse.

But back to why I’m in Lexington tonight: Lexington is probably the closest city to Crossville. It takes me almost three hours to drive here. I do it every so often, and I do it for one reason: If I don’t escape Crossville from time to time, I’d probably end up one of those nut cases on the six o’clock news who goes postal.  Really, it’s a public service I’m doing. People should be grateful.

“Ready for a refill, darlin’?”

I grin up at the bartender, who admittedly is the only reason I stayed in this bar. It’s not my speed. I’m more into the biker bar about three streets over. One of my customers recommended this place because they have a live band on Saturday nights, so I said to hell with it. Ten minutes in when the band started singing a Black-Eyed Peas song that I could barely remember, I knew I was in trouble. Then Mr. Tall—blue eyes, in faded jeans with holes, black t-shirt, and curly sandy-brown hair—smiled at me when I sat down at the bar. He got me a drink and I’ve been here ever since. Sure, he got me a drink because he’s the bartender, but he keeps looking at my boobs.

I think it’s pretty clear what’s going on here.

“Hit me,” I tell him with an easy grin. Easy, because after a shot of Jack and then a glass of Jack and Coke on top of that, I’m pretty damn loose—so loose, that with this second drink, I’m pretty sure my ass will be finding a hotel to snooze the night away. Maybe I can convince the bartender to go with me. Again, do not judge me. The last time I had sex, I’m pretty sure, was two presidents ago. If you want to do the math, we’re talking six years. Six years. Women can say what they want about vibrators, but they do not, under any circumstance, take the place of the real thing. And the bartender who keeps smiling at me definitely looks like he could be packing the real thing.

“Damn, babe. You’re busy tonight,” I hear a deep voice say in front of me. When I look up, another man who looks like he just stepped off the pages of the Sexiest Man Alive magazine is talking—unfortunately, to the bartender I’ve had my eye on. They share a quick but heated kiss. I cry a little bit inside, give up my dream of me and the bartender tonight, and go back to my drink.

That saying about all the good ones being married or gay is so freaking true. It’s probably why I am still single and my friend Raymond has a great guy at home.

“Can I buy you another, sweet lips?”

Sweet lips?

“I don’t think so,” I tell him, barely looking up. It doesn’t matter what he looks like; being called sweet lips is enough to turn me off immediately.

“I’ll have a scotch and get the lady whatever she’s having.”

“The lady is just fine. Persistent, aren’t you?”

“Sometimes, it pays to be,” he says, and finally his country twang and the aw-shucks-good-old-boy-vibe makes me look up. He’s tall and broad, with brown, sandy hair shaved close, a five o’clock shadow—which is so dark I’d say it’s closer to six—brown eyes, and a face that looks like an sculptor chiseled it from stone. A god, maybe. He’s that pretty. Though he fires everything feminine up inside of me, his good looks is a turn-off. I’ve dated a perfect guy before. The only thing perfect was the reflection in the mirror. I don’t need to go back down that road again—ever.

“I was just getting ready to leave,” I tell him, and that’s not completely a lie.

“Don’t leave yet. You’re the first thing I’ve seen that gives me a reason for being in this town. What’s your name?”

“Well, it’s definitely not ‘sweet lips’,” I tell him, picking up the new drink the man of my dreams bartender—though gay and taken—puts down. The guy smiles at my comment and sits down beside me, then leans into me like we’re long lost lovers. I try to ignore the way he smells, but find it’s a little impossible. He wears a cologne that I’ve never smelled before. It must feed every pheromone I’ve got, because combined with his rugged male scent, it’s making a woman like me drunk… and horny.  Dangerous. He’s definitely dangerous. I may want a good time, but this guy screams “player”—rich player. The bartender is much more my speed. It’s not that I’m a snob. Just the opposite, really. I find that rich people are obnoxious as hell.

“I bet your lips are sweet though, darlin’.”

Obnoxious—even if guys like him are cute when they’re trying to get laid. I lean into him with a smile. I run my tongue over my lip, just for good measure.

“That’s something you’ll never find out,” I whisper and take another drink.

He stops for a minute, like my reply shocked him, and then he gives me a deep grin that even makes his brown eyes twinkle. Damn.

“I always did like a challenge,” he says, and I can feel excitement thrum through my system. I hear the alarm and danger bells going off… I just don’t seem able to stop staring into his eyes.

Did I mention: damn??

She doesn’t know who I am.

It’s a strange feeling—although not at all unpleasant. Let’s face it: I realize golf isn’t the most exciting sport, and the major draw here in the state of Kentucky is horseracing or college basketball, so odds were in favor of me not being recognized, but it surprises me just the same. Still. It’s almost tourney time and golf has been monopolizing the news. It’s not that I’m bragging or anything, but fuck, I’ve seen my face so often on the sports shows, I just assumed everyone else has. There can be no mistaking it though that this woman clearly doesn’t know who I am. I haven’t had a woman want me just for me and not my name or my bank account. There’s just one problem: sweet lips here doesn’t seem to want me. Challenge placed and accepted. I won’t give up until I have her under me screaming my name.

“I always did like a challenge,” I tell her with a practiced grin. It’s not really bragging when I admit that this grin has literally gotten me into the pants of thousands of women, and some were even prettier than the beauty staring at me now.

She’s a banging little redhead with green eyes who has legs that go for miles, curves that should be illegal, and tits and an ass that I’m sure make men beg. Hell, I want to beg now. That aside, there’s something about this particular woman that appeals to me in ways no other woman has for far too long. I could say it has to do with the fact that she doesn’t know who I am. Perhaps it is, and the novelty will wear off—after I fuck her brains out.

“It wasn’t a challenge,” she says, taking a sip of her drink.

“It wasn’t a yes,” I tell her.

“Odd, I wasn’t aware that was a yes or no question.”

“Everything boils down to yes or no. ‘I bet your lips are sweet’ definitely means I intend to find out. You letting me boils down to yes or no.”

“So my answer here would be… no?” The way she tilts her head to the side and pulls her eyebrow up as if daring me sends a fire through my system. Is it really because her reaction is such a change from the way women usually throw themselves at me?

“I’d prefer if your answer was to bring your mouth to mine and let me taste your lips,” I tell her, lowering my voice and angling my head so only she can hear me.

I watch her closely. I think I can see a slight shudder move through her. She’s not completely unaffected by me. Is it a game for her? Playing hard to get to try and keep my interest? That’s not out of the realm of possibility, though if true, it would disappoint me. Not that I truly give a damn. The endgame is just like it always is: I’m getting between her legs.

“You should at least get an A for effort.”

“I’d rather show you what else I deserve an A in.”

“There’s a point where trying too hard comes into play,” she points out, getting up.

Fuck. I’m losing her? Has this ever happened before? Hell, I don’t think so, not even before I made it big.

“At least have a dance with me,” I tell her, doing my best not to sound desperate. Shit, I feel a little desperate here and I still don’t know what it is about her.

She looks me over and I hold still, letting her take her time. I make myself a promise that if she turns me down, I’m done chasing. She might have my interest, but I don’t need to work this hard for it. When she inclines her head to indicate she’s agreeing to the dance, I hold out my hand to her, standing. She puts her hand in mine. As I lead her onto the dance floor, I feel a zing of heat move from our joined hands and flood through my system. I almost wonder if I’m the only one who felt it until I hear her quick intake of breath and feel her hand jerk against mine. When she tries to pull away, I tighten my hold.

She’s not getting away. Not yet.

I should probably have my head examined. I can’t even fully blame it on not being with anyone in, like, forever. No, I think it might be pure madness that has me walking out to dance with this guy.

“Am I allowed to ask your name?” I ask to distract myself, because when he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his body, that electric current runs through me again. I look up into his eyes and see something flash in them.

He hesitates, then finally answers, “Gray.”

“Gray? Like the color?” I ask.

He gets a strange look on his face, before he grins again. “You don’t like it? I happen to think it will sound beautiful when you’re screaming it out tonight when I f—”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence if you want a chance in hell at getting lucky tonight, Gray.”

“So you’re admitting there’s a chance?”

“It’s getting slimmer.”

“I can work with that,” he says while I’m busy ignoring the way he smells. It’s good. Not all cologne; there’s something else, something deeply male that makes my insides quiver. Maybe I will go for it and end my long dry spell. It’s just one night, right? It doesn’t matter if he is too perfect. That doesn’t mean I’m repeating history. I’d never have to see him again.

“You’ve gone quiet,” he whispers against my ear as we’re swaying to the music.

“I was listening to the music,” I lie. “Is your name really Gray?”

“Is that so strange?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met one, so yeah. Though, my old man was named Banger, so…”

“You’re shitting me? Banger?”

“I think that was his road name, but if he had a different one, he changed it years ago.”

“I think I like him.”

“He was a great man,” I agree with a smile, feeling the familiar ache of sadness at the memory of what I lost.

“What happened?”

“Cancer,” I whisper, hating that damn word.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Everyone always says that, and I hate it just as much when this guy says it. It’s fake. They might be sorry, but they don’t truly understand. Very few do.

“So… the name?” I prompt him.

“My mother thought it would be cool to name her kids after colors.”

“Colors?”

“Mmm-hmm. So, I’m Gray, short for Grayson.”

“Well, hey, that’s a good name. Much better than… Green?”

“That’d be my brother.”

I pull away to look at him. “You’re lying.”

“Not even a little bit. I have five brothers and each one is named after a different color.”

“That’s not possible. There aren’t six colors that would make…”

“Gray, Green, Black, Blue, White, and Cyan.”

I figure my mouth drops open. I can’t stop it as I digest the fact that five other men are out there with names like that. When I notice he’s watching me, I smile at him and give a small pat on his shoulder, like I’m trying to make him feel better. “Well, hey, at least you got the better of the names.”

“You won’t hear me argue. Especially when it comes to Black and Blue. They’re twins, by the way.”

I snort in laughter and can’t stop it. “Oh my God, you have to be making this up.”

“Afraid not, so see, I’ll need you to help me.”

“Help you?”

“The way I have it figured, if you say my name enough in your beautiful southern drawl, I’ll learn to love my name. Heck, it will make being called a member of the Crayola gang all worth it.”

I laugh before I can stop myself. “Crayola gang? Ouch.”

“It’s okay. I had it better than my brothers.”

“Name-wise again, you mean?”

“Well, that and the fact that my crayon is one of those thick, fat ones that—”

“Oh good lord…”

This time, he laughs… and it’s a really good laugh. It’s a laugh that takes away resistance. Not that that was a difficult job.

“My name is CC,” I tell him as I slide back into his hold.

“CC?”

“Yeah. In case, you know, you want to scream it out a lot tonight.”

His grin widens. “I’ll definitely make sure to do that. Often.”

Goodbye dry spell… and good riddance.

“Did you enjoy your weekend off?” Jackson asks.

Jackson is my main man at the garage. The two of us do everything. We could use someone else working with us, but there never seems to be enough money to stretch. I pay Jackson really good though—probably double what anyone else would cost me. He’s worth it, though. He’s the best there is… next to me. Banger told me that, and it is something I always remember with pride. Banger always taught me that if you were going to do anything, you had to give a hundred and fifty percent. Him saying I was the best at something means I did something to make him proud. Jackson has a similar code to Banger, and that reason alone makes him worth the money.

I think back over my wicked weekend with Grayson and can’t stop the grin that blooms on my face nor the way my body heats up with the memory.

“I’d say that was a yes,” Jackson says.

“Bite me,” I tell him. Shit, I’m still grinning.

“I am hungry,” Jackson says, “but you’re way too salty for my tastes. Speaking of which, what are we doing for lunch?”

“Well, I need to drop the oil pan off that baby there,” I tell him, pointing to the old Ford that’s in bay number one.

“That means I’m going to be delivery boy today?” Jackson asks.

“Like every other day. You know you only do it so you can go flirt with Mary Ann at the diner.”

“That woman can bake a mighty fine apple pie,” he says, already walking towards the door.

I drop down on the creeper. “I doubt it’s the pie you’re interested in.”

“Being around us men your whole life has destroyed you.”

“Whatever. It’s Monday, so make sure you bring me back the meatloaf platter.”

“Got it. Be back shortly,” he calls, but I can barely hear him over the loud roar of the air compressor and impact wrench in my hand.

Another day, another dollar.

“Will you give it a rest, Seth? I told you I’m here. I’ll play nice. I’ll even put up with Cammie.”

“You need Riverton Metals on board for this tour, Grayson—especially since Raver Athletics pulled out.”

“They’re idiots.”

“No, they’re a multimillion-dollar company that can’t afford to have their name linked with a golf pro who is more famous for his hard drive into a tour official’s daughter than driving the ball into the hole.”

“Whatever. They’d be crazy to keep me out of the tour over that shit and you know it. My name brings in the fans.”

“So do others. You’re cutting your own throat here, Gray.”

“Driving into Rachelle’s hole was more fun.”

“Her name was Michelle.”

“Close enough.” Honestly, I barely remember the girl. I was drunk as a skunk and the only brain working at the time was the one in my dick—a dick that got the workout of its dreams this past weekend, a dick that misses a certain redhead today. It was a damn good weekend, and if CC hadn’t been gone when I woke up Sunday morning, I would have tried my best to make it last for another couple of days. Cammie Riverton and her father could wait for all I care. I get that Seth is trying to help me out here, but I could give a damn. I might need Riverton's name to get me back on the good side of the officials, but unlike other sports, as a member of the league, I'm an independent contractor. I decide what matches I want to do and where I will appear. I oversee my own damn self. And that would be great, except being blackballed by the higher-ups means they push my entry into tournaments below everyone else, which in short results in filled-up courses and me out in the cold. So I'm trying here when what I really want to do is tell everyone to kiss my ass. I've never been good at towing the line; my mother could more than attest for that.

“My advice is to play nice and get this contract with Riverton and his support under our belts. Without it, you’re not going to get half the publicity as the other pros on tour and you want that green jacket, even if you do try to deny it.”

“Who gets that jacket has more to do with—”

“You and I both know that you can be the best player out there, but if you don’t get the publicity, the powers that be will make it hard on you in every way they can.”

I sigh. “Whatever. I said I’m doing it. I’m in this small Kentucky town now. Have no idea what time I’ll get to Riverton’s, though.”

“Can’t you just punch it in—?”

“Hell, some of these roads aren’t even showing up on my GPS. I swear, Seth, earlier I came through a town called Pussy Holler.”

“Sounds like you should live there.”

“You got jokes. Fuck!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Something’s wrong with my car.”

“Wrong? What happened? I told you to fly out there.”

“I don’t know. It just died. No warning or anything,” I tell him, coasting to the side of the road. “The dash lights and things are on, but it won’t hit a lick. Maybe a starter or something. I told you I’m not flying into a place where they only accept tinker-toy planes. That’s not happening.”

“I’m no mechanic, but since you already had it started and driving when it died, that doesn’t sound like it,” Seth says sarcastically.

“Fine, then. Alternator or something. I don’t know,” I grumble. I look out the windshield and can see a garage about twenty feet in front of me. That, at least, is a stroke of luck.

“You need me to locate a tow service?” Seth asks.

“No. I see a garage up the street here. Claude’s Garage. If you don’t hear from me in an hour, call the cops.”

“Oh, will you stop? It’s not like I sent you to the town where Deliverance was filmed.”

“If I hear dueling banjos, just know I’m coming back to haunt your ass Seth.”

“Yeah, yeah, check in in an hour and try to keep your pants zipped up. I know it will be hard for you.”

“You said hard,” I joke, breathing a little easier when I walk towards the garage. It looks normal. Hopefully I won’t die at the hands of some Norman-Bates-wanna-be-grease-monkey.

“Fuck off,” Seth says before disconnecting the call. I click off my phone, stow it in my pocket, and walk the rest of the way to the garage. Blue would have a freaking ball laughing at me right now. Suddenly all those times I made fun of him for taking mechanic class instead of co-ed PE seem less amusing. Then I think of how grumpy Blue seems to be all the time and immediately nix the idea. Hell, if mom hadn’t caught him with Sara Jane in the barn loft when we were kids, I’d think the man was still a virgin. I should have brought the Caddy, but honestly my Tahoe reminds me of home and I’d never admit it to my brothers or my meddlesome mother, but I miss Texas.

When no one comes out, I go through the open bay doors looking for Claude. The smell of oil and gas is strong. My nose curls in distaste. There’s a reason I’d never pay attention to Blue. The interior is dimly lit. There are florescent lights humming above, the light is stark and shines mainly over the cars that are inside. An old truck is on one side, jacked up and on ramps. Coming out from under it are two oil-soaked legs in thick mechanic coveralls and steel-toed boots. Claude, I guess.

“Hello? I’m looking for the owner? Claude?”

I know that voice. I know the deep baritone that sends shivers down my back and tingles of need through my body. I’ve been thinking about that voice since Sunday morning when I left him lying in bed, sound asleep. I know that voice and that voice is here inside my garage. The shock of that causes the wrench I’m using to remove the plug from the pan to slip. The plug does indeed come out, but at an angle and before I’m ready. Oil spurts out onto my face and pours down my chin and neck. I quickly divert it to the draining pan, but the damage is done.

“Motherfucker,” I gripe. It’s not very ladylike, but cut me some slack. I was raised by a guy named Banger; most of my vocabulary isn’t ladylike.

“Excuse me?” Gray asks.

I know it’s him. I don’t need to see his face. My problem is, I don’t know why he’s here. Surely he’s not here to find me? How would he have done that? He doesn’t even know my name. I mean, he called me CC, but I sure didn’t tell him my name was Claude. And I know for a fact that I never once mentioned where I live. That’s something I would never do, especially with a random hookup. Not that I’ve had those that often, or really much at all. If I did, my dry spell wouldn’t have lasted so damned long. Still, I’m not stupid, and you never give out your personal info. Somewhere in my head, I hear Banger growl at me about sleeping with strangers. Crap!

“Shut up, Banger. You knew my bitch of a mom and you still slept with her. That didn’t work out so well for you either, did it?” I whisper to the voice in my head. Yes, I realize that’s a stupid thing to do, but I’m in a panic, and it seems better than having to talk to the man standing out there in my garage waiting for me to roll out from under this car. Shit!

“Listen, I need my car looked at. It quit out front and I have a meeting. Is Claude around?”

A meeting? His car quit here? Is he telling the truth?

Am I cursed?

I push out from under the car with a sigh. I’m not one to hide, even if the urge is strong. I grab a clean shop rag out of the box to my right, hoping to at least get most of the oil off, then I get up. I’m still wiping up the mess that is me when I look at him. I don’t think he recognizes me, at least not right away. Then again, I look completely different from the way I did this past weekend. There is nothing sexy about shop clothes, oil, and gas, or the skull cap I keep on my hair while at work. It’s hot at times and some may think it’s weird, but then I figure those people have never had to wash oil and gunk out of thick, curly hair, so it’s just simpler.

“What’s wrong with it?” I ask him, my voice sounding as miserable and uncomfortable as I’m feeling right now.

“I’m not sure. I was just driving down the road and it quit. It won’t even crank. It’s not the battery though, because the radio and lights come on.”

Yep. He doesn’t recognize me. I don’t know whether to be relieved or upset. He’s sexy as hell though, even if the mint green oxford is uncomfortably preppy and a far cry from the jeans and black t-shirt he wore over the weekend.

“I’ll have a look. Where’s it at?” I tell him, walking towards the door.

“No offense, but I’m in a hurry. Is the owner around? Maybe he could—”

“I am the owner,” I tell him with a sigh, starting to regret my weekend with him even more.

“You’re Claude?” he asks, and I ignore it. “It’s just down the road there,” he tells me, pointing up the street. I go to the tow truck, Gray following along behind me. “You’re taking your truck? It’s just right there,” he says again.

I sigh. “If it won’t start, I can’t very well push it here, now can I?” I ask him with exaggerated impatience.

“Oh. Right.” He climbs up into the passenger side of the tow truck just as I close the door. He looks around the old truck and I can literally see his nose curl in disgust. The old jewel ain’t much, but it’s not that bad. The seats are ripped and the black dash is now faded and cracked. The doors are squeaky and, okay, there’s dust and dirt everywhere, but it runs like a top. I take off towards the bronze-colored Tahoe and stop when I can park in front of it. I jump down and go to the Tahoe. I open the front door to his car as I hear Gray screech. “What are you doing??”

“Popping the hood,” I answer, staring at him like he’s crazy. I think he might be. Did he think I could tell what was wrong just from looking at it?

“But you’re filthy!”

Oh, good Lord in Heaven, is this really the same guy who went down on me for a freaking hour? I reach in and pull the lever for the hood, slam the door shut a little stronger than necessary, then look at him, daring him to say anything. His mouth tightens up like he’s dying to, but he restrains himself.

“Really,” he goes on. “I think I can just call triple A, and…”

I ignore him. That seems to be the best option at this point and, since I chose it to begin with, I’m staying the course. His battery terminals are caked and I can tell from just looking at one that it’s loose. I’m surprised he’s been driving at all, though maybe he hit a bump or something and jarred it. I go back to the truck and grab a screwdriver, a wire brush, and a rag.

“What are you doing now?” he asks, sounding put-out.

“Cleaning your terminals. For someone who was worried I might get grease on his sweet leather interior, your battery posts are horrible. You got to clean under the hood sometimes too, Ace,” I tell him. Once I have one of the posts clean, I tighten the connector to it and do the same to the other. The battery could be bad, but somehow I doubt it.

“It’s not the battery. I told you the lights are on. Hell, even the radio still plays.”

I ignore him. Yet again.

“Get inside and see if it will start,” I tell him. He rolls his eyes at me and I briefly imagine stabbing him between those eyes with my screwdriver. The engine turns and tries to hit, but it doesn’t have enough juice. I go back to the truck and get out the cables, pop my hood, and get ready to jump the engine. Just as I’m about to attach the ends to his battery, he grabs them out of my hand.

“Whoa, now. I don’t think you should be doing that.”

“Seriously?”

“Listen, I appreciate your help and all, but I told you my lights and things come on. If the battery was dead, that wouldn’t happen. I’m pretty sure it’s something more mechanical. I’ll just call triple A and have them send a tow out, you can go back to drowning yourself in oil, and everything will be fine.”

I sigh. “Listen. You’re obviously not from here. So let me explain a few things. First of all, I’m the only tow service for at least sixty miles. Which means if you call roadside assistance, they’re going to call me, and I’ll have to come out anyway. Second of all, the nearest garage besides mine is at least two hundred miles away, which means your tow bill, while nice for my pocket, is not worth it. Plus, I have things I need to do today and I really don’t feel like driving into the city. Third—and this might be the most important—I really would like to get you back on the road just to get rid of you,” I tell him, taking the cables out of his hand. “Now, this is obviously not your area of expertise, but things work according to amps. That means, your radio or lights might work with just a little juice in your battery, but there might not be enough to, say, run your car at the same time, or even start it,” I explain, attaching the cables. “It also means if there’s not a good connection, the output of the battery might not be strong enough. Understand?”

“Listen, I just don’t think you—”

“I liked you better when you didn’t talk,” I mutter, walking around and going to start his vehicle. When it fires right up, I slam the door—hard. He stands there looking at the car like it has Martians surrounding it and is getting ready to take him back to the mother ship. I proceed to take everything back to my truck while he stands there still looking at his car. When I slam his hood (again too hard), he turns around to look at me, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. He looks a little embarrassed, and that makes me feel marginally better. Now if he apologizes for being an ass, I might feel better about the weekend I spent with him. I’ve seen the signs and maybe it’s because I’ve dealt with them over and over, but I really get tired of men who think I don’t understand how to do my job because I’m a woman.

“How much do I owe you?” he asks as he goes to his wallet, no apology in sight.

Okay, then. If that’s how he’s going to play it.

“Hundred bucks.”

“You’re kidding me! You weren’t out here but for ten minutes! That’s highway robbery. With prices like that, I’m surprised you get any business at all,” he grumbles, handing me a hundred dollar bill.

“Oh, what I did here was free.” His mouth goes tight again. Strangely enough, this time I smile.

“If that’s free, then why am I giving you money?”

“Because you were really that annoying. So I charged ten dollars for every minute I had to be around you. I probably should have charged more, but I’m feeling charitable.” I jump up in my truck and leave Gray standing there with his mouth open.

Yeah, I liked him better when his head was buried between my legs.

As I watch Claude drive back to her shop, I can’t shake the feeling that I know her from somewhere. There’s something about her voice … and that face—well, what I could see of it that wasn’t covered with oil. I have the strangest urge to follow her, but I can’t because I have to meet with Riverton.

This is bullshit. I’m not Green after all. Being in the majors like he is, he has to deal with bullshit sponsors. Golf is completely different from baseball, and it’s one thing I’ve always been thankful for. I’m also unbelievably fucking good at it. That’s not ego, though I will admit to having that at times. It’s just the truth. My sport is filled with middle-aged men; there’s a reason they call me the young stud of the sport. I like that title. Fuck, I live up to that title. I’ve become the face of the industry in just a few short years. I took a bunch of ribbing because I went into golf—most of it from my own fucking brothers. But I silenced them by bringing home the bank. Shit, I make more than Green and I don’t have to tow the line like he does. That might be the very reason I’m resenting the fact that Seth has me out here playing nice with Riverton. I am not a fucking yes man. I am who the fuck I am and I like being me. Kissing up to some man just so his company can smooth the way with the big wigs in charge of the tour pisses me off. Everyone thinks money greases the wheels, that it’s all about the money, but the truth is … it’s politics. In the big leagues, everyone has full pockets. They just want to show off who has the bigger dick. The people in charge of getting me exposure, ensuring my rank and position for the tournament, are major dicks.

As I pull up to the wrought iron gate with two giant R’s detailed on it, I do my best to swallow the bile that comes up in my chest. Is this what swallowing your pride feels like? The urge to drive away is strong, but I beat that down too. I’ll play nice. I’ll send in the matches I’ll appear at, and with Riverton behind me, I’ll be welcomed with open arms. Then, fuck them all. Once I win that pretty trophy and jacket, I’m done. D. O. N. E. Then they’ll be the ones crawling to me. I’ll be the one in complete control.

I hit the button on the speaker and tell the voice who I am. The gates open. I pull up and look into my rearview mirror. As they slowly come to a close, I flinch. One season. That’s it. I’ll do this to become what I need to be: the master of my own destiny.

I drive towards the house and the strangest thing happens. I think about this past weekend with CC. That’s where I wish I was right now. Back with her in that damn hotel room, listening to her laugh, feeling her legs wrap around me as I sink down into her. But that’s not what hits my gut and makes my hands constrict so tight around the steering wheel it could almost break.

It’s the realization that the voice of Claude and CC are one and the same.

I’ll be visiting a certain little mechanic again soon. Very soon.

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” Jackson says, as if there are two of him. It always makes me grin. At times he sounds so much like Banger that it hurts.

“Later, old man,” I tell him, getting that look from him I always get. There’s only ten years’ difference in our ages, but Jackson seems so much older. Banger always said life can age you more than years, and Jackson seems to be a walking testament to that. We break apart at our vehicles. Once I start my car, Jackson takes off on his bike. Right before I put the car into drive, I realize I left my cellphone in the garage. With a groan—because I really want to get home—I switch the car off and go back the way I came. I have the phone retrieved and I’m locking the door when I hear his voice from behind.

“I think it’s a crime to cover up hair that beautiful in that cap on your head.”

Before I can even fully turn around, Gray’s reaching up to pull it off. My hair tumbles over my shoulders and halfway down my back. As if by reflex, I use my hand to shake the curls out and comb it away from my face.

“I guess this means you know who I am now.”

“I guess I do,” he says, propping himself up on my door and caging me in.

“I guess I should give you a cookie or something,” I mumble, finally getting the door to lock.

“I can think of something else I’d rather you give me.”

“That’s not happening,” I assure him, stubbornly refusing to look his way.

“Why’s that?”

“That ship has sailed.”

“We could always take it back out to sea.”

“The point of weekend hookups out of town is that they end at the weekend and they remain out of town,” I tell him with a wince, trying to ignore how that makes me sound. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to come to town on business.”

“This place isn’t exactly industry row.”

“No, but it does have its appeal, that’s for sure.” His finger wraps around a strand of my hair. I barely resist the urge to pull it away from him. I’m working really hard on ignoring the way his voice sends chills down my back. The man is like a drug!—one that I’m definitely smart to quit cold turkey.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed your visit,” I tell him, “but I need to get home. It’s been a long day and Cat is waiting for me.”

“You named your cat… Cat?”

“Cat could have been a person.”

“Is she?”

“No.”

“Then I’m right. Strange. I would have figured you for a dog person.”

“Well, you don’t really know me.”

“You’re definitely wrong there. I think I know a lot about you.”

“Considering you didn’t even know who I was earlier today, I think I can safely argue.”

“If I remember correctly, proving you wrong is a lot of fun, so you can argue away.”

“What’re you—?”

“Remember? You said there was no way you could come again, and I told you that you could. All it took was sliding my tongue slowly against—”

“Okay, I think you should stop there. I’ve had a long day, and I’m sure you’re anxious to get back on the road and go back to wherever—”

“Actually, it seems I’m going to be staying in Kentucky for a couple of weeks.”

My heart stutters at his words, and a nervous tension gathers in my stomach. This news shouldn’t affect me one way or another—but it does. I do my best to shake it off and not let it show.

“In that case, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around. Right now, however, I better get going.”

“Right, home to your… cat,” he says, and I don’t correct him.

“Exactly. Take care, Gray.”

“Maybe you could help me first.”

“Listen,” I start, but he holds his hands up as if to stop me.

“I need a hotel. I’ve driven around this place and I’ve yet to see one.”

“That’s because there isn’t one.”

“What??”

“Small town. There’s no need for a motel around here.”

“Where do people from out of town stay?”

“With family or friends…?”

“Are you offering?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“That’s cold. You’d just send me out to sleep on a park bench?”

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you.”

“Are you afraid I’ll be kidnapped for my sexy body and—?”

“Probed anally by little green men?”

“Umm…” I can’t stop from smiling at the look on his face. I’m not sure why I like him, especially after today, but I can’t deny that there’s something about him. “Do you have many alien sightings around here?” he asks.

“Only on nights with the full moon, or the week after old man Jenkins sells some of his homemade preserve.”

“Delightful…”

“Rest easy, Crayon-man. There’s a bed and breakfast about three miles up that street,” I tell him, pointing the way. It’s on the right. Ask for Mrs. Casebolt. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with my bed.”

“Maybe I could double date with you. I bet I could make it more interesting…”

“Cat already beat you to the punch. Nice try, though.”

“We can let Cat have the couch.”

“See you around, Gray,” I tell him, walking to my car.

“You’re just going to turn me out into the cold like this, after all of the nice things I did for you this weekend?”

“They were nice,” I tell him, looking over the top of my vehicle.

“I definitely thought so,” he says, looking like he’s got me right where he wants me.

“But not so great that I’d kick Cat out of bed.”

“You—”

“Later, Crayon. Watch out for Mrs. Casebolt.”

“What do you mean?” he calls out louder as I get in my car and slam the door.

I start my car up and put it in reverse. I back up until my passenger window is even with him and I roll the window down. “She’s got grabby hands. Then again, you might like that,” I tell him and roll up my window before he can reply. I look in my rearview mirror once I get on the road and see him standing there. I can’t make out his face, but I still smile.

I’ve been in Kentucky for three days, only three days, and I’m going insane. Mrs. Casebolt does indeed have grabby hands. My poor ass has been pinched more than a fat baby’s cheeks. Shit, I probably have bruises. Riverton has been dicking me around making appointments that he mysteriously doesn’t show for, but his single annoying daughter does. Cammie isn’t bad-looking, don’t get me wrong, but she’s a bitch. Even while she’s trying to hide it and make herself appear to be the answer to every dream I’ve ever had, she’s a bitch. It’s this innate piece of her that shines through even with her smile. She’s also on the market for a husband, and that right there is why my dick will never get around Camilla Riverton. I will never tie myself to a woman. My brother Cyan did that, and that had horrible repercussions. We all thought his woman was a keeper, and we were all wrong… horribly wrong. Even if that wasn’t true, however, Cammie would be the last woman I’d ever look at.

After three days of dodging Mrs. Casebolt’s grabby-hands, three days of being catfished by Riverton, and three days of ignoring Cammie’s very large hints, I’m about to go insane. Not to mention the fact that it’s also been three days since I’ve seen CC. That is unacceptable. Riverton is out of town today and if I’m going to survive my next meeting with him, I’m going to need a good distraction.

Which is why I find myself pulling up to Claude’s garage. It’s not sitting great with me that I’m on the edge of chasing a woman. I’ve never done that in my life, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I tell myself that if I were back home in my own element where beautiful women are a dime a dozen, I wouldn’t chase CC—I wouldn’t even think about it. But I’m lying out of my ass. This morning alone, the waitress at the local diner gave me all the appropriate signals and she was definitely pretty, but her hair wasn’t bronze auburn with streaks of gold, her smile didn’t quite make her eyes sparkle, and her curves were lacking.

So here I am…

“Can I help you?” A man asks, coming out of the bay door of the garage. He’s big and broad… and definitely not CC.

“I’m looking for CC.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m a friend of hers. Gray Lucas,” I tell him, reaching out my hand.

He wipes oil off his hands with a rag and stares at my outstretched hand, but doesn’t bother to shake it. “CC’s never mentioned you.”

“Do you know all her friends?” I ask him, starting to wonder exactly what kind of relationship they have.

“Pretty much.”

“Well, we’ve just met recently. So maybe that’s why.”

“Recently?”

“This past weekend.”

He looks me over, and then the strangest thing happens: he gets a big smile on his face. “Now I get it,” he says.

“Jackson, have you seen my torque wr—What are you doing here?” CC asks when she comes outside. She’s dressed in the coveralls she wore last time I was here and, sadly, her hair is all covered up again, but even so, she looks hot. Hell, she looks sexier like this than Cammie does in those short skirts and clinging blouses she’s been wearing around me. My dick stretches against my jeans, hardening and lengthening at once, wishing it was closer to the woman in front of me—who is currently shooting daggers at me. Damn, even pissed off she looks hot.

“Well hello to you too, beautiful.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Is this dude the reason for that wicked smile you had Monday?” the man asks.

“Piss off, Jackson.”

He laughs in response. “I’ll take that as a yes. Hell, it must have been good for the fucker to follow you all the way to Crossville.”

“It wasn’t,” CC says at the same time I add my, “It was.” This exchange makes the man laugh even louder. I might grow to like him. He’s starting to remind me of my asshole brothers. Grow to like him? Nah, I won’t be around that long. But I can appreciate that he won’t be competition to get one more taste of the woman in front of me.

“Maybe you need a reminder,” I tell her with a grin.

“Maybe you need a reality check,” she returns.

“Maybe I do. Actually, I was hoping you would go to lunch with me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“She’d love to,” Jackson says, and yeah, I might like him.

“What? I would not. Jackson, stay out of this.”

“Listen, Claude. It’s lunchtime, and Mary Ann is off today, so it’s your turn. If the dude is desperate enough to track you down, then the least you can do is have lunch with him.”

Okay, maybe I don’t like him. I’m not desperate. My dick could possibly be. Still…

“C’mon, CC. You only live once. I promise not to bite, unless of course you ask me to,” I goad her.

“That won’t happen.”

“It might. Remember Saturday when you wanted me to bite you on the—”

“Stop!” she screams, looking at Jackson.

He laughs, shaking his head and walking back inside the garage. “Bring me a burger box, when you get done playing,” he says before he disappears.

Once he’s gone, CC stands looking at me with her hands on her hips. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

“Asking a beautiful woman to lunch?”

“Gray…”

“CC, we had a great weekend together. I want to spend more time with you. Nothing heavy, and it doesn’t have to go any farther than lunch if you don’t want it to, but besides the sex… which by the way, was off the charts…”

“It was, but—”

“Besides the sex,” I interrupt her, “I just had a good time with you. You’re funny and cute and just fun to be around in general. So will you please go to lunch with me?”

“You said ‘please’.”

“That, I did.”

“I bet that’s something you don’t say to women very often.”

“Only to my sisters or my mother.”

“Oh my God, you have sisters too?”

“Have lunch with me and I’ll tell you all about them.”

“If I agree, it’s only because I’m curious.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

“Okay, fine. Give me a couple minutes to get ready.”

“I’ll be right here waiting,” I tell her, feeling something click into place. Shit, maybe I am desperate.

“You clean up good, Cooper,” he observes as he sits across from me. We’re at the local diner and I have the summer salad special in front of me, but I’m having trouble eating. I find myself staring at Gray instead, wondering exactly how this happened.

“I didn’t clean up. I just took my coveralls off.”

“And let your hair out of its prison.”

“My hair wasn’t in a prison,” I tell him, self-consciously pushing my fingers through it.

“It’s a crime to keep that hair covered up, sweetheart.”

“Listen, Gray…”

“It’s beautiful, like the color of a flame that shines in the moonlight. It reminds me of bonfires we have back home.”

I want to ridicule his words for being way too poetic, but instead they make the butterflies in my stomach jump around. The words should sound totally fake, like a man trying to get in a girl’s pants a little too hard. Instead, he makes them sound sincere, as if he truly believes it. Suddenly, the thick, curly monstrosity of hair on my head and my freckles don’t feel like a sore spot to me anymore, and that’s crazy. I can almost feel myself blush at the way he’s staring at me. Damn. I clear my throat, needing to pull this conversation back to even ground.

“Weren’t you supposed to tell me about your sisters?”

Something moves through his face and he watches me for a minute before leaning back against the cushioned seat in our booth. “What about them?”

“Were they named after colors, too?”

“Flowers.”

“Flowers?”

“Yep. If you ask me, they got the better card in the draw.”

“Well, not necessarily. You’d be awful silly with the name Iris.”

“Point made. In any event, I have three sisters. All younger, all designed to drive each of us brothers batty, and all named after flowers.”

“Well, driving brothers batty is what sisters are supposed to do.”

“Do you do that to your brother?”

“I don’t have any, but if I did, I’m sure I’d make that my goal.”

“What about sisters? Or…”

“No one, just me.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

His apology is sincere, and the grave look on his face is testament to that, but it makes me feel uncomfortable. He doesn’t know me. Why would he be sorry? I shift in my chair, not sure how to react to this man. “It is what it is. So what’re your sister’s names? Daisy, Rose, and Iris?”

“Spoken like a woman who clearly doesn’t know my mother,” he says with a laugh.

“Okay, I’m almost afraid to ask… but what are they?”

“Petal, Maggie, and Mary. Mary being the youngest—eighteen.”

“Well, Petal is a little strange, but still it’s kind of pretty, I like it. Those aren’t bad names. I don’t even see flowers in them, though I guess Mary…”

“Short for Marigold.”

“Umm… okay, not horrid. And Maggie?”

“Magnolia.”

“Yikes. Okay, that one might be a little…”

“Named after the tree under which she was conceived at a free love rally.”

“Oh my.”

“Exactly.”

“Your mom must be quite the character.”

“She is. Are you going to ask about Petal?”

“I figured that one was self-explanatory.”

“Lotus Petal Lucas.”

“Umm…”

“There you go, that’s the look.”

“What look?”

“The look my brothers and sisters have seen every time someone asks our names.”

“So, I take it if you ever have kids, there will be no names after flowers or…”

“I doubt I’ll ever have kids, but Green did.”

“You don’t want kids?”

“I don’t want the wife that comes with them.”

“A wife doesn’t have to come with them exactly, not these days. My mom didn’t exactly stick around.”

“They’re still there somewhere, ready to cause trouble. Not worth it. Besides, my life isn’t one that would make having a kid easy.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I’m on the road a lot.”

“You’re a salesman?”

He gets a strange look on his face. “Something like that. Anyway, I don’t really want to settle down, and kids definitely make you do that.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I’m not sure what my life would have been like without Banger and this small town, so I can see that.”

“You’re happy here?”

“For the most part. I don’t have any complaints. And Claude might be horrible, but at least it’s not named after a tree I was conceived under. Then again, knowing my mother, she probably doesn’t know the tree nor the man who was there.”

“Banger wasn’t your real father?”

“He was, in every way that mattered,” I tell him, daring him to argue.

“Good you had him.”

That’s the understatement of the year, so all I can do is nod in agreement. “What’s your mom’s name?”

“Lily.”

I laugh. “So her parents named her after a flower too?”

“Her full name is Peace Lily, so that would be a yes.”

“I bet your grandparents are interesting.”

“I never got to meet them, but I hear they were. They definitely raised a proud, independent, strong woman and, despite her naming abilities, mom is a hell of a woman. Though, I do think she might have cried the day Blackie graduated the police academy.”

“She doesn’t like having a cop in the family?”

“She’s learning to accept it. It became easier when his twin Blue decided to go into ranching full-time. She said it evened out the karma, whatever that means.”

“You have a crazy family.”

“That I do,” he agrees, taking a bite of his food.

“I think you’re very lucky. It’s obvious you care about them.”

“I am and I do, though sometimes I want to kill them too. I’m feeling very lucky, especially since you agreed to come to lunch with me. I’m having a good time.”

“I am, too,” I admit, surprised. I don’t know what I expected from him, but I can’t lie. This has been the best lunch date I can ever remember.

“I’m glad. It will make it easier.”

“Make what easier?”

“Getting you to agree to have dinner with me tonight.”

I smile despite myself. Taking a bite of her salad, I smile at him. “We’ll see,” I tell him, but inside I know that if he asks, I’ll be agreeing.

“I’ll take that,” he says. “And just to sweeten the pot, if you agree, I’ll tell you all about how my mother and father met.”

“As long as you leave out their romps under the Magnolia trees.”

“Oh, no worries, nobody ever needs to hear that story. Even though it’s one of Mom’s favorites.”

“Now I’m scared again.”

“You should be,” he quips with a wink before he waves for the waitress’s attention to get us some refills. As I watch the way Rachel looks at Gray and he seemingly doesn’t even notice, instead looking right at me, I can feel something inside of me giggle happily.

Damn. I think I’m falling under the spell of a traveling salesman. Maybe I’m more like my mother than I ever suspected.

“Fuck, you look good,” I tell her.

The words slipping out of my mouth before I can stop them. Not that I would, but that seems to be a problem with this girl. She’s unlike the playthings I’m used to. By all rights, I should have forgotten her, but the memory of our weekend is just getting stronger and stronger with each minute I spend close to her. Lunch today was fun and one of the best times I’ve ever had with anyone. She entertains me and makes me laugh, and I actually like spending time with her so much that I found myself actually ignoring my rock-hard dick and concentrating on getting her to talk more.

I’m at her house picking her up for dinner. After our lunch date, I practically had to beg for her address—another first for me. Once I got it, I left and went back to schmooze with Riverton some more. While I’m enjoying the game I’m playing with CC, the same cannot be said with Riverton. He’s set a meeting up tomorrow afternoon. If that doesn’t work out, I don’t care what Seth says, I’m done. I’ll find another sponsor. He might not have as much pull with the higher-ups at the tournament, but there will be someone else who will get me the leverage I need with the committee.  That’s all that is important. I’m not about to get jerked around, unless it’s by CC. She can jerk me all she wants. Visions of her hand moving up and down my cock spring to mind and, just like that, my semi-erection blooms into a full blown concrete crushing stiffy. This woman is killing me. If I don’t get in her pants again soon, I’m liable to start drooling and talking gibberish. I’m not far from that now, especially when she’s standing there in front of me wearing that auburn and gold hair down so that it curls loosely around her head, framing her face. She’s wearing a dark green silk dress that dips down enough just to highlight her cleavage and short enough to cover her thighs, but only after it curves and hugs the cheeks of her ass. She looked good this past weekend, but standing here right now, I can’t remember another woman before her. This is my first clue that I might be in trouble. My second is when she laughs, those thick beautiful lips curve up into a smile. They shimmer in the pale light with her lip gloss—pale pink in color. I imagine the color in a perfect ring around my shaft. Jesus, I can feel pre-cum gathering on my dick now. If I don’t get inside this woman soon, I’m going to blow.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she says and it takes me a minute for the blood to rush away from my dick for me to remember what we’re talking about.

“Are you ready to go, sweetheart?” I’ve used that endearment a million times, with a million different women. Suddenly, it sounds fake and wrong. CC isn’t like them. She deserves something special—something different. And there’s yet another clue that I might be in over my head with this woman.

“I guess…”

“You don’t sound too sure.”

“I’m still not convinced this is a smart thing to do.”

“You think too much. I don’t remember this side of you when we were in Lexington.”

“It didn’t matter then.”

“Explain,” I tell her, helping her put on her sweater before leading her out the door and waiting for her to lock it.

“It was one wild night out of time. No consequences, no repercussions, no worries. You’re in my hometown now. The place I’ve fought to make a name for myself that I could be proud of. A name Banger would be proud of. It’s taken me years to live down my mother’s past. The last thing I need is for people to think I’m anything like her.”

“This sounds like a deep conversation you can tell me more about over steaks and wine.”

“I don’t think that’s on the menu at Rosie’s, and that’s the only restaurant in town.”

“True, but we’re not going to Crossville. We’re going to Addington,” I tell her, and I can feel the muscles in her back tighten at my words. “Is something wrong with Addington?”

“It’s just not my normal kind of town. I’m more at home in Rosie’s diner, so unless you’re going to take me to Mickey D’s, I’m not sure I’m—”

“Stop worrying. First of all, the way you’re dressed is way too fine for fast food. Secondly, as much fun as I had at Rosie’s Diner with you earlier today, I want a good thick steak. I’m assured that the place to find that around here is Addington.”

“Listen, Gray…”

“Look at it this way: In Addington, no one will know you, and it will be like we continue our weekend with no worries.”

“It’s not that far away.”

“Does it really matter? It’s dinner, and if anything else happens, we’re both adults and it will be behind closed doors.”

“You’re right. I’m just being silly,” she says, shaking her head. This side of her surprises me. I’m definitely intrigued. I’m going to have to learn more about her mother. She’s mentioned a little about her, and I know the story isn’t pretty, but it seems to have left enough scars on this woman that it alters who she is, and for some reason that makes me mad. CC shouldn’t have to worry about how people look at her, or what she does—for any reason. I lived in a small town in Texas, and with mom’s history, I know a little bit about the damage small-minded people can do. Still, it pisses me off that CC ever had to experience any of it.

We’re mostly silent on the way to the country club. Riverton couldn’t believe I was actually staying in Crossville. Though I assured him I was fine there, he insisted he add me as his guest at the country club in Addington, stating that it was the only place around to get a decent meal. After calling and making sure he had added me on the roster, I made dinner reservations for me and CC. I wanted to give her a great night out and a good meal seems like step one. Though as hard as Riverton has been pushing his single daughter down my throat, I doubt me taking another woman out was what he had in mind when he added me to the guest list. Too damn bad.

“Wait. Why are we here? You can’t be a member, and this place is…”

“Members only, yeah I know. I’ve got a friend on the board here. He offered the use of the place while I’m in Kentucky,” I tell her as I close her car door.

“An associate? Listen, Gray…”

“Relax, buttercup, it’s all okay. I promise,” I tell her, putting my finger under her chin and tilting her head back to look at me. I read something in her eyes that I can’t put a name to, but CC shakes it off and gives me a small smile, allowing me to lead her toward the club. Still, there’s a tension in her that I’ve not felt before and I don’t like it. I’m about two steps away from suggesting we go somewhere else, even if it is fast food, but decide against it. I’m sure she’ll loosen up once dinner is served. She owns a garage and both times I’ve been there, there hasn’t been a lot of customers. I’m sure she just feels out of place. Things will lighten up when she gets some good food, maybe dessert, and then definitely the goal is to spend the rest of the night loosening her up in ways I’ve dreamed about ever since I woke up alone in that hotel in Lexington.

I know that Gray thought he was being sweet bringing me here. He doesn’t know my history and, though we might have spent one mind-blowing weekend together, he doesn’t know anything about me. It’s just one night, and no one will expect me to be here. I’ll just grin and bear it. The sooner we get food and get out of here, the better. There’s no point in causing a scene. To do so would mean me explaining way too much to Gray about my past, which would be stupid. He’s a one-night stand. Okay, two nights. And he’s only here for a limited time. I can’t let myself forget that. I am not my mother. I am not the woman who goes from man to man because I can. I am not the girl with wanderlust in her eyes, never happy if she’s not on the road, off to the next best thing. I have roots here. I have a job—a business. I have goals, even if I can’t remember what those goals are anymore. There’s a reason I made them. I am not… her.

Mental pep talk done, we sit at the table and get our menus. As I look through the different entrees, I find myself missing the meals offered at Rosie’s diner. It’s not that I don’t like a nice night out. I’ve had a couple when I’ve been to the city with friends, but honestly, the diner is more my speed.

“I guess David was right.”

“David?”

“I’m here on his guest list. He said this was the best place to eat in three counties around here. I have to say, the menu definitely looks great.”

“It does,” I tell him, wondering if he can tell that I’m lying. I’m busy trying to figure out why it makes me sad that Gray seems so at home here. The man who talks about his brothers and sisters reminds me of a country boy. This Gray seems one step away from…

Something uneasy shifts in my stomach. He’s wearing a suit. He’s different. Even his attitude here seems different. It’s a cold reminder that though I might have slept with him, I don’t really know anything about him.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, and though I know he’s asking about what I want to eat, my first thought is, I’m thinking I should have never agreed to go out with you. I don’t say that, though it’s on the tip of my tongue.

“You order for us,” I tell him, literally unable to care less what he orders and just wanting it over and done at this point.

“You sure?”

“Surprise me.” I don’t even pay attention as he orders.

“Why am I getting the feeling this isn’t going well?” he asks.

I jerk up to look at him. “I’m not really a country club kind of girl.”

“What kind of girl are you?”

I study his face, trying to figure out if he’s truly interested, or just trying to get into my pants. I can’t decide. I take a breath and decide to just put it out there.

“I’m just guessing, Gray, but I’d say that a mechanic hasn’t set foot in the doors of this place, unless it was the back entrance to get to the garage area so they can work on club cars or something.”

“Why does it matter? You’re here now. You’re here with me and I want you here, that’s all that matters.”

His response annoys me. I’m not sure why I thought he would understand, but I did. “You’re right.”

He sighs, as if he can hear the doubt in my voice. He stands up, reaching for my hand. “Come on.”

“What? Why?”

“We’re going to get out of here. If you’re not comfortable, then we’ll go somewhere where you are.”

“Gray! Is that you?” The high-pitched voice, squealing until it rakes across my nerve endings, cries out. I know that voice. I abhor that voice. The fact that the voice is calling out Gray’s name only makes me detest it more.

I look up at Gray and see a look of distaste cross his face. I feel a little better. I would almost smile if the bane of my entire childhood Cammie Riverton wasn’t standing there looking at Gray like a moon-eyed dog in heat. What the hell?

“Cammie,” Gray says, and I think maybe I mistook his look, because his voice sure does seem awful warm now—welcoming, even.

“What a great surprise seeing you here! I thought you said you had another business meeting today.”

“I did, I was…”

“Oh. My. God! Claudia Cooper, is that you?”

I grind my teeth together, wishing I had the superpower to turn invisible. “That’d be me. How are you, Cammie?”

“What on earth are you doing here with Gray? How could you two possibly know each other?” she asks. Her voice is so snide and her eyes shoot imaginary bullets at me. I probably shouldn’t do it, but as always when Cammie is involved, I find I can’t stop my mouth from reacting.

“I gave him a head job and he’s taking me to dinner as a thank you.”

“You what?” Cammie asks, her head reeling back as if I slapped her. I probably spoke much too loudly for this place too because it’s deathly quiet now, and I can see all of the eyes on me. I’m in too deep to back down now.

“I said I gave him a head job and he’s buying me dinner to show me his appreciation.” I hear Gray cough and when I look over at him, he’s smiling broadly and giving me a look I can’t quite decipher.

“Dear Lord! I can’t believe you,” Cammie whispers. “Gray! I don’t think my father will want to do business with a man who…”

“She means my car broke down and she fixed it.”

“She does?” Cammie asks, confused.

“Yes. A part of the engine is referred to as heads. Sometimes they blow a gasket,” he explains, but he’s looking right at me. I do my best to give him an innocent look. I know I fail. I don’t give a damn. I just want out of here.

Why is Gray doing business with Cammie’s father? A better question is: why do I even care?

“Goodness, I should have known that’s what it was. Really, Claude was always so coarse, it shouldn’t surprise me that she hasn’t changed,” Cammie answers, as if CC isn’t even in the room. I see CC’s face tighten and her eyes narrow. I am tempted to see just how this exchange will go down because I think I might get an honest look at CC—and that is very enticing indeed—but Seth would probably kill me. I wasn’t sure I liked Cammie before this, and now I’m positive. The little minx currently trying to figure out how to leave, however, is someone I definitely like. After this, I believe she does in fact owe me a head job.

“I like the way CC is upfront. Kind of like, what you see is what you get. It’s much better than trying to figure out who a person is when they pretend to be someone else entirely,” I tell Cammie.

I see CC sit up at my barb just as it flies over the top of Cammie’s head. Cammie might be pretty in a clean, polished, Ivy League kind of way, but she’s obviously not the sharpest tool in the shed. Maybe her parents kept her too sheltered. If that’s the case, they didn’t do her any favors.

“I suppose,” Cammie agrees reluctantly. “But really, Claude, you should be more aware of your surroundings. I mean, you are sitting at my father’s table. Your behavior reflects on him.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” CC asks loudly, and I’m thinking this could get ugly real fast. “Tell me, Cammie, how is dear old Dad? Still feeding your trust fund monthly?”

“I think you should leave now. Gray, you’re new to the area here, but I think you can clearly see that CC and her kind of people don’t exactly mix well here.”

“I was just telling him that very thing before you got here,” CC says, standing up. “And if there’s one thing that I’m thankful for Cammie, it’s that I don’t mix well here. Gray, it’s been real. Don’t bother getting up, I’m sure Cammie here would be more than willing to take my place.”

Before she can finish her sentence, I’m up with her. I wrap my hand around her wrist and pull her towards me. “Cammie, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be seeing CC home.”

“Of course you will. It’s the only gentlemanly thing to do. It’s a shame I couldn’t have warned you sooner. We’re still on for lunch tomorrow right?”

I feel CC jerk away from me, and it’s annoying. I barely know the woman and I can feel myself getting embarrassed all because I have a business luncheon with Cammie and her father. What the ever-loving fuck? My brothers would be laughing their asses off at me right now.

“Wouldn’t miss it. I’ll see you then.”

“Definitely,” she chimes. “CC, I do hope you find a way to get your anger under control,” she calls out. Either Cammie’s smarter than I gave her credit for, or she’s just a bitch.

“Cunt,” CC growls under her breath.

I feel myself grin a little. I always did like my women with a little bite. The little tigress in my hands right now definitely bites—and boy, does she have claws. I manage to get her back to my vehicle and I forcibly, over her objections, buckle her into the seat. Truthfully, I’m afraid if I don’t buckle her in, she’ll take off running.

“Well, that was interesting,” I tell her, leaning against the opened passenger door and taking a breath as soon as the seatbelt buckles. Damn, why do I feel like I just wrestled a mountain lion? Why am I wondering what my mother would think of CC? “Care to tell me what that was all about?”

“Not especially,” CC all but grunts, looking very put-out with me.

“I think I’m owed an explanation, don’t you?”

“Cammie Riverton is a cunt-a-saurus,” she says with a smile.

“And you don’t think you need to explain that further?”

“Nope.” She shrugs, picking at imaginary lint on her dress.

“You could have ruined my chances of sealing the deal with Riverton Metals.”

“He’s a slime ball. You’re better off,” she grumbles. “So… see? I did you a favor.”

“He might be, for all I know. I don’t really give a fuck. I need his backing for my tournament. His name and wallet are instrumental in me achieving my dream.”

“Tournament? I thought you were a salesman?”

“No. You assumed I was a salesman. I just never bothered to correct you.”

“What do you do then?” she asks.

Shit! This wasn’t exactly the conversation I wanted to have tonight. I sigh, seeing no way around it. I rub my forehead in aggravation. Will she know who I am? Will it change how she is with me? I don’t know why, but I don’t want that to happen… which is weird. I usually play the whole I’m-A-Golf-Pro-Fuck-Me card right away. CC is different. I’ve said it before and I have a feeling I’ll be saying it again for as long as I’m around her.

“I play golf,” I tell her, nervously waiting to see what her reaction will be.

“Golf?”

“Yeah,” I say, wincing at her disbelief.

“Like… weird-hats-crazy-pants-ugly-shirts golf?”

“I don’t wear clothes like that, but yeah.”

“But you don’t look like you’re eighty!”

“What? I’m not. What are you—?”

“Oh my God! I had sex with a grandpa! How old are you? I mean, I knew you were older, but Jesus!”

“I am not old! What are you going on about? I’m thirty-five, for God’s sake. You know, not only old men play golf.”

“I know.”

“Well, there you go.”

“I’ve been miniature-golfing before. Little kids eat that up, but seriously, dude. We’re talking regular golf here, right? Where you hit those little balls with sticks and try to knock them in a hole?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that. And there was once a twelve-year-old who played in a tournament, I’ll have you know.”

“Golf,” she says again reproachfully.

“What is your problem now?”

“Well, I mean, if I was gonna have a one-night stand with a pro athlete, I’d much rather it was football or basketball… something. I mean, at least then I could brag a little. I can’t here.”

“Why the fuck can’t you?” I ask her, getting annoying and forgetting the fact that I don’t really want a woman to fuck me just so she can brag.

“The first thing they would ask me is if you smelled like muscle rub!”

“What? Jesus!”

“I mean, I never noticed you smelling like that stuff, but now that I think about it, you did have to—”

Before she can finish her rant, I lean down and pull her towards me. The seatbelt holds her back, but I more than meet her halfway. My lips crash against hers, stopping her tirade and ending it with a muffled umph of a noise that vibrates against my lips. My tongue pushes in and I groan at the familiar taste of her mouth—sweet, hot sugar and spice. It’s a flavor I’ve never had before CC, and instinctively I know I will never find it anywhere else. It’s all her and I have a feeling it could be more addicting than any drug. Her tongue boldly wraps around mine. That’s another thing that’s all CC: she’s not shy. She knows what she wants and she goes after it completely—body and soul. As her tongue tangles with mine and fights for dominance, my dick hardens, pushing against my slacks. God, she’s something else. I thought I had somehow imagined just how great her kisses were. I now instantly know I was wrong. They are that great. Her fingers bite into my shoulders as my hands push under her shirt. Her hot skin greets my touch—hot enough to brand a man. I pull away for a breath and she whimpers, her mouth following me. I groan, giving in, and dive back into her mouth to drink again before slowly breaking away.

When the kiss is over, our foreheads remain connected. Her hands remain on my shoulders and I sure as hell will not take my hands off of her sides and stomach unless she makes me. She takes a very shaky breath, swallows, and then slowly pulls away from me. She looks up at me, her green eyes almost glowing.

“You kiss pretty good for an old man,” she says, and I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I laugh before I can stop myself. Shit, this woman constantly surprises me.

I might be getting in over my head.

“You okay, C?” Jackson asks, when I drop my damn wrench again.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I mutter, lying out of my ass. I’m not fine. I’m very far from fine. My mind is where it has been for the last three days ever since Gray dropped me off at my house after our date—a date which started off horrible, got worse, never did result in food, and ended with a kiss that has haunted me ever since. It doesn’t matter. It can’t matter, and for several reasons. The biggest of those being that Grayson Lucas is some kind of golf god. I googled him after our date and what I learned was enough to blow my mind… and turn my stomach. He’s famous, he’s rich, and worse: he’s a big time player. His exploits with women have been plastered on every tabloid coming or going. Just last month, his biggest sponsor booted him because there was a video uploaded of him online. A sex video. A video of him and two other women—one of those women being the daughter of a very well-known golf sponsor. Gossip on the net was that he was shuffling to find a new sponsor, one that would get him back in the good graces of the upcoming tour promoters and committee. That would be why he is here and why he is dealing with David Riverton. All that together spells disaster with a capital D, and reveals a million reasons why I have to stay away from Grayson.

Which is why when my cellphone (a number I gave him after he kissed me again on our horrible date) rings for the fifth time today, I ignore it.

“That lover boy again?” Jackson asks, and I ignore him, finally getting the last bolt on the radiator assembly we’re installing tightened.  “He seemed like a nice guy, C. He made you smile. Cut him some slack.”

“You know anything about golf, Jackson?”

“Golf?”

“Yeah. You know, little white balls being whacked with a club…”

“I try not to watch anything that involves balls being whacked, C.”

“Well, it seems Gray is, like, a mega golf star.”

“Mega?”

“Sponsors, tours, trophies, lots of money.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.”

“Damn. What’s he doing in Kentucky? We’re not exactly the golf capital of the world.”

“Courting David Riverton as a new sponsor.”

“Fuck.”

“That about sums it up.”

“Still, woman, just because he’s working with that fucker doesn’t mean you have to write him off.”

“He’s got money…”

“So?”

“By ‘money’ I mean he’s loaded. Hell, if he didn’t need Riverton to smooth over his black marks with the tour people, he probably could be his own sponsor.”

“Black marks?”

“Sex tape of him with two other women, one being the daughter of one of the major tour sponsors.”

“Jesus.”

“He’s bad news, Jackson. So, can we just forget it? In a few days he’ll go back to wherever they have golf games and it will be over.”

“I’m sorry, C. Seems you’ve inherited your old man’s ability at picking partners.”

“Yeah, it appears that way,” I tell him with a sigh.

We work for a couple more hours getting caught up, for the most part. The phone has finally stopped ringing and I’m doing my best not to feel sad about that. I can’t be. There’s no room for Gray in my life, even if he wasn’t a player.

“Want some lunch from the diner?” Jackson asks, and I’m not really in the mood, but I say yes anyway.

“Sure. Chicken salad?”

“Ugh, rabbit food. I expect better of you, Claude,” Jackson says, using my name because he knows it irritates me. In response, I flip him off. He’s laughing as he slams the door behind him. I busy myself picking up tools and trying to clear my head when the object of my thoughts makes an appearance.

“Your phone not working, sweet lips?”

My head jerks up at Gray’s voice. He’s wearing a worn Metallica t-shirt and jeans and he looks like anything but a golfer, which pisses me off. His hair is ruffled with these soft curls on top of his head that are starting to hang loosely because his close cut is growing out. Somehow, it looks even better on him now—another thing to piss me off.

“I hated that nickname back at the bar. It made me write you off immediately. I should have listened to my gut,” I tell him.

“Sweet lips? But it fits you, because woman, your lips are the sweetest I’ve ever tasted.”

“I guess I should be flattered because from what I’ve read, that covers a lot of territory.”

“Aww. You’ve googled me. I guess I should be flattered.”

“Whatever,” I mutter, going back to picking up tools and ignoring him. It works pretty good until he comes up behind me and wraps his arm around me, pulling my back into him and not letting me move. I try to jerk away, but he still doesn’t let me go.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Asking you if your phone is working,” he whispers against my shoulder. I can feel the heat of his breath, even against my coveralls, but it’s not enough. I suddenly wish I didn’t have them on. I wish I didn’t have anything on. I wish it was just the two of us, skin against skin…

“You need to let me go. You’ll get filthy,” I tell him, stressing the word he used when I worked on his vehicle.

“But CC, I love getting dirty with you.”

The words piss me off  because it sounds like a line. Then I realize who I’m dealing with and admit that everything out of his mouth is probably a line. We had a one-night stand and that was all it was and that’s over. Just because we had a good lunch date… an awesome lunch date… and just because he made me smile, and just because he makes me laugh and his kisses melt the clothes from my body, none of that means anything. It’s just a game. It’s meaningless and I might be tempted to bite for however long it lasts until he leaves, but I will not become one of his play toys. I am not my mother.

I bring my elbow back and deliver a blow to his gut. It’s weak and nowhere near what I’m capable of, but it’s enough so that he gets the point and lets me go.

“My phone works just fine.”

“Then why aren’t you answering it?”

“Gee. Maybe because I don’t want to talk to you?”

“Bullshit.”

“Whatever.”

“You wanted to talk to me enough to give me your damn number.”

“That was before.”

“Before what?”

“Before I…”

“Before you saw shit on the internet about me.”

“Maybe. Is it true?”

“What if it is? What’s it matter? It happened before I met you. Hell, we’ve only really had one date. Why is your nose out of joint about it?” he asks, sounding agitated.

“Maybe I just don’t want to see my picture on the internet as another notch in Grayson Lucas’s bed post.”

“I’m fine with that.”

“So, if you don’t mind—Wait. What did you say?”

“I don’t particularly want you to be plastered in tabloids either. Believe it or not, I don’t even enjoy that shit.”

“For a man who doesn’t enjoy it, there sure are plenty of them there.”

“And most of them are put up there by the women in question.”

“What? Why?”

“Because believe it or not, some women live for being seen as one of Gray Lucas’s exploits.”

“Gross.”

“Thanks.”

“Well, you know what I mean.”

“I do. Which is why I want to go out with you. Well, one of the reasons. I want to get to know you more, CC. Is that so bad? You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met and, more importantly, I actually like you.”

“And it has nothing to do with sex.”

“It has everything to do with it.”

“Which is exactly why my answer is no.”

He growls and moves back towards me, pushing me up against the concrete wall and holding my hands against it so I can’t push him away. My eyes are captured by his and I swallow at the look of intensity on his face.

“Gray…”

“Can you deny that you don’t remember the weekend we shared and want more of it? That the kiss we shared a few days ago doesn’t haunt you? That you don’t wake up in the middle of the night wishing I was there so you could wrap your legs around me and pull me deep inside of you…?”

“Damn it, Gray, it was just—”

“Because I do, CC. I do, and it’s driving me crazy. I’ve never done that before in my life and you, goddamn it, are haunting me all the time. I want to be with you again. It has everything to do with sex and…”

“I’m not going to be like those two women you did that video with. Go find sex with whoever—”

He pushes his finger against my lips. My eyes go wide, but I hush because his face is intense and there’s something there that… I like.

“It has everything to do with sex because I want that again… with you. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. But it’s more than that. You might be the first woman I’ve liked outside of sex. You’re funny, you’re intelligent, you keep me on my toes, and you don’t try to flatter me just to get what you want.”

“That’s because you’re an asshole.”

He laughs, and somehow that’s an even better look than the intense one he wore a few minutes ago.

“That’s exactly what I mean, CC. You don’t give a fuck about who I am. I want that. I want you, all of you, even your mouth which is delectable and annoying at the same time.”

“Wow, that’s some sweet talking you’re doing there, Grayson.”

“So what do you say, sweet lips? You willing to go out with me?”

“If I see a camera within a mile of me, I’ll geld you.”

“Ouch. That’s a bit drastic, don’t you think?”

“I’m serious.”

“Point made. So you going to go out with me tonight?”

“No.”

“CC…”

“I have something planned already, but… I will go out with you another night if you call.”

“If I call, will you answer?”

“I guess you’ll have to just try it and see.”

“You’re going to keep making me work for it, aren’t you, Claudia Cooper?”

“How do you know my name?”

“Well, Cammie mentioned it, but I knew before that. Claudia ‘Claude’ Cooper, born January third…”

I hold up my hand to stop him. I don’t care how old you are, a woman never wants her age given out to the man she’s slept with, at least not this early on—not that I’m planning on anything with Gray being long term…

“Okay, that’s enough,” I tell him, trying to stop my brain from dreaming. Although, I’m thinking it’s more like my libido.

“You aren’t the only one who knows how to research on the web. I’m calling you tonight, Cooper. You better answer,” he says, turning away.

I don’t answer. I watch him walk away, wondering what I’m getting myself into.

Me:

Are you naked?

My text is simple and straight to the point. It has been two days since I saw CC at the garage. We talked on the phone last night and, as much as I’d love to tonight, I’m out with Riverton and his annoying as hell daughter. The thought of CC in bed naked makes my dick feel like a bottle rocket all set to blow. Damn, I have to get ahold of this girl soon. I’m starting to think I might have imagined how great it was between us. I’m not sure reality can live up to the dreams I’ve been having of her.

CC:

And if I am?

I read her text, feeling a thrill run through my body. My hand practically shakes as pictures of CC naked on silk sheets flashes through my mind.

Me:

I need you to not move for about thirty minutes.

CC:

Why thirty minutes?

Me:

That’s how long it will take me to get there.

CC:

Go back to your business dinner.

You’re interrupting my alone time with Bob.

Me:

Bob?

I feel a stab of jealousy that I try to ignore.

CC:

Battery operated boyfriend.

Me:

Don’t you dare! Your orgasms are mine.

CC:

Sorry. I’m afraid the phone signal is going out.

“Grayson? Did you hear me?” Cammie asks, and I reluctantly put my phone down.

“I’m sorry, dove. My manager wanted my opinion on some contracts he got in today.” My eyes automatically go to the wall across from me and the large clock that proclaims I’ve only been here for an hour. How long do I have to stay before I can make an excuse to leave? If I don’t get out of here soon, I may go crazy. “What was it you were saying?”

“I was asking if you’d like to go out with father and I sailing.”

“Sailing?” I’m pretty sure Kentucky is nowhere near the ocean.

“A hobby of mine. I have a couple of sailboats docked in the Kentucky Lake. I’m going to take them out this coming Sunday and stretch the sails. Hell of a way to relax,” Riverton says, and I nod. The last thing I want to do is go sailing with Riverton and his daughter. I can hear Seth in my head demanding I agree, though.

“Sounds fun. I’d love to join in,” I lie through my teeth.

“How grand! I can hardly wait. Sailing is one of my favorite pastimes. Isn’t it marvelous how much we have in common, Grayson?” Cammie asks.

“Amazing,” I tell her, hoping the sarcastic intent is somehow hidden enough it goes over her and Riverton’s heads.

“I think I’m going to leave you two kids alone and find my bed. I’m not as young as I used to be,” Riverton says, standing up. He reaches out his hand to me, but I’m feeling my stomach drop to the bottom. The last thing I want to be is alone with Cammie. I shake his hand, clearing my throat.

“I was hoping we could discuss the upcoming tour, sir.”

“I’m much too tired for business tonight, son. We’ll talk about it this weekend and then we’ll take the boat out.”

“Sounds good,” I tell him, inside calling him an asshole. It’s not that I’m wanting to leave Kentucky. With CC here, I’m finding the last thing I want to do right now is leave. It’s just I don’t like being dicked around, and I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what Riverton is doing. I’m not sure why he would want someone like me for his daughter. Fuck, if I was a father, I’d be the last type of man I’d be searching out for her.

“You want to retire out into the garden?” Cammie asks.

I have to restrain myself from groaning. Retire?

“Actually, I should be going. I have a conference call early in the morning.”

“Oh, no! Gray, don’t leave.”

“Again, I’m sorry, but I…”

“Well, I demand you spend a few minutes out in the garden with me. Why, we barely got any time alone with daddy here monopolizing all your time.”

“Well, there are things we need to discuss. He is the reason I’m here, after all.”

“Just think. If not for that, we would have never met. It’s funny sometimes, how fate works,” she says, taking my hand and pulling me out the French doors. Hell, she’s talking about fate. Everything in me is screaming to run away fast and hard.

She leads me to a bench outside surrounded by perfectly sculpted hedges, rose bushes, and other flowers of which I have no idea what they are. It’s pretty, I suppose. Her hand is wrapped so fucking tight around mine, I’m pretty sure that the blood supply is cut off.

“I can’t tell you how much fun I had tonight, Grayson. I just love being around you. You know how you meet someone and something just clicks and you instantly feel comfortable around that person?”

I listen to her words and an image of CC comes to mind instantly. I smile before I can stop myself. “I know exactly what you’re talking about,” I tell her without thinking.

“I knew it!” she squeals, and then before I can think over what we’ve talked about, her lips are on mine and her tongue is plunging into my mouth. Her taste is wrong. The feel of her in my arms is wrong. I don’t push her away, but I do nothing to deepen the kiss. She pulls away with a satisfied look on her face and I have a bad feeling that this is going to mean trouble.

Shit.

“Have I told you that you sure clean up good, Cooper?” Gray tells me when I open the door.

He’s standing there dressed in jeans and a t-shirt holding a bottle of wine and some flowers, and he’s wearing a grin. It’s been four days since our conversation at the garage. He hasn’t missed calling or texting, and I’m starting to look forward to hearing from him. All of that spells trouble, but I’m ignoring the signs. I’m charging ahead because for the first time in my life, I see something in front of me that I want to keep. I know I can’t. That’s just the way life is, and there’s no way someone like Grayson Lucas, golf star extraordinaire, will want me for anything long term. Still, for as long as this lasts, I’m going to take what’s there and worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.

“Cooper? What happened to sweet lips?” I ask him, opening the door wider so he can come inside. He shrugs away my question as I close the door behind him. I turn around to walk back towards the kitchen when he wraps his arms around me. He holds me close, the flowers and wine bracing against my back.

“I’ve missed you.”

I realize I’m dealing with a player, and those words are probably just another line designed to get my pants off of me, but the thing is… it’s a very good line. Plus, I really want him to get my pants off.

“Scruffy is a good look for you,” I tell him, moving my hand along the five o’clock shadow on his face. Any look is good on him. I don’t think you can make him look bad—at least, physically.

“Can I have my kiss now?” he asks. Last night during our phone conversation, I told him he could have a kiss if he could remember what I was wearing the night we met. I really didn’t think he could, but he nailed it, all the way down to the sea foam green, lacy silk panties and bra I had been wearing. I reach up to give him a peck on his cheek.

“There.”

“Um… no. That is not the kiss we discussed.”

“It’s not?” I ask as innocently as I can pull it off.

“Definitely not. There was no tongue action in that.”

“I don’t remember tongue action being discussed,” I tell him with a grin, breaking away. I take the wine and flowers from him and lead him into the kitchen.

I have a small house. It was Banger’s and the only true home I’ve ever known. It’s an open concept with the living room and kitchen as one large space. It’s too small for a dining area, so there’s a breakfast bar. It’s two small bedrooms and a bath. I’m sure it is nothing like what Grayson is used to, but I don’t sense him checking it out and finding it lacking, so I relax a little.

“Tongue action was implicitly implied.”

“Say that ten times really fast.”

“Why, Cooper, are you trying to get me to show off how well my tongue works?”

“I think I can remember,” I tell him, shaking my head. “I hope burgers and fries are okay. Honestly, it was a long day at the garage and I was too beat to worry about dinner.”

“Burgers and fries are my favorite,” he says, and though he’s probably lying, I relax that much more.

“Thank you for the flowers and the wine. You didn’t have to,” I tell him, putting them in a vase and running tap water into it.

“I did it with an ulterior motive,” he says, and I jump because he’s right behind me. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me back into him. His face slides against mine, the stubble on his face scratching softly against my neck.

“What would that be?” I ask, my voice breathless.

“You. I want you,” he says, his lips following the pulse point in my neck.

“Gray…” I protest, but even I know it sounds weak.

“God, I’ve been thinking of nothing but you for days,” he groans, his hands moving under my shirt, sliding slowly up my stomach, teasing the warm skin there until he cups my breasts. I want to give in. All week I said I was going to, but now…

“Gray, I don’t think we should do this,” I tell him, forcing myself to pull away. Once his hands leave me, I feel strangely deprived. God, I’m a bigger mess than even I knew.

“What’s going on, Cooper?”

“It’s just… I don’t think I’m ready to just jump into bed with you.”

“It doesn’t have to be a bed. The floor, the wall—hell, the kitchen counter works for me.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

“I don’t see the problem. We’ve already slept together, did you forget?”

“No. That was different.”

“I don’t see how. Besides, you can’t deny that we’ve been talking all week, and I think it was pretty clear from our conversations where this was headed. So why the sudden hot and cold, Cooper?”

His words make me feel like I’m on trial, which sucks. He wants full honesty? Fine.

“It was different before because there was nothing but one night of sex.”

“Two,” he corrects me.

“Whatever. The point was it was a space out of time where I let go of my better judgment and just took something I wanted.”

“Me.”

“Yes, you.”

“So go ahead and take me now. I’m okay with being used, buttercup.”

“That’s just it. I know you now. I know way too much about you now.”

“Wait, let me get this straight. Before, you could fuck me because you didn’t know me. Now, you can’t because we know each other?”

“It’s not that simple, Gray. I mean…”

“You realize you have this shit backwards, right? Most women insist on knowing a man before they spread their legs for him.”

Heat rises in my face and I want to slap him for trying to make me feel embarrassed over making the decision to have a one-night stand. Sanctimonious asshole.

“That’s the problem, Grayson Lucas. Entirely too many women have known you. I just don’t want to be one of the long list of numbers.”

His face goes hard and he looks at me so intently, I want to take a step back. “What the fuck was this week about if you were never planning on sleeping with me? Because I got to tell you, I’m a little over the whole come-over-and-watch-movies-and-hold-hands phase in my life.”

“Were you ever in that phase?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“Answer the question, Cooper.”

“I do want you. I just… I guess I just need time. You have a long history, Gray. I don’t think I trust that I’m not just…”

“What if you are? How will you know? Or how will I, if we don’t see what’s between us? Jesus, Cooper, you overthink shit way too much.”

“You have a sex tape on the internet, Gray,” I remind him, my stomach curling in distaste.

“Again, it was before I met you, and I knew nothing about the making of it. My lawyers had it taken down.”

“It’s still there.”

“You know the drill, Cooper. Once it’s on the internet, it’s always there. If you show me the site, I’ll report it. It’s all I can do.”

“Gray…”

“CC,” he starts, using my nickname. Strangely enough, I already miss him calling me Cooper. “I like you. I’m pretty sure you like me, but I’m not going to fight your fears every time we get together just to…”

“I’m not afraid,” I lie, because I’m kind of terrified.

“Your doubts, then.”

“What is this, Gray?” I ask him, needing it defined. I want to know what he’s thinking, where he sees this going. I want to have no surprises.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t do great in relationships. I don’t know how to…” How do I explain to him that I don’t trust people? How do I tell him that I’ve never had a real relationship? He really would think I’m a freak if I told him exactly how much I feel out of my depth right now.

“Why do we have to label anything? One day at a time, Cooper,” he says, his face going soft as he walks towards me. “Let’s just see what happens.”

“What are you doing?” I ask him unnecessarily when he comes up to me and cups the side of my face, pulling my lips to his.

“Kissing you and then, with any luck, kissing you some more.”

“Until…”

“Until we’re not kissing and we’re doing so much more.”

“Aren’t you hungry? I have the food ready to fix, and…” I’m rattling on nervously, but he stops me with just a faint touch of our lips.

“I’m hungry, but not for food.”

“Gray…”

“Are you with me?”

I look into his eyes, finding them so deep and intense. Am I? Why am I so nervous? I’ve withstood bigger storms in my life than Gray Lucas, right? If this all blows up, then it will be my shame alone and I’ll just go on. If it doesn’t, then could what started off as a one-night stand become something… more?

“I’m with you,” I whisper, making my decision and throwing caution out the door. Banger would either kill me or be proud.

“Thank fuck,” he groans, putting his hands under my ass and pulling me up his body. I wrap my legs around his waist and hold onto his shoulders.

“What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you to tell me which way is your bedroom, and if you don’t hurry, then I’m going to fuck you against the wall because that’s how much I need you right now.”

“First door on your left down the hall,” I tell him, grinning.

I guess food will have to wait.

My patience is almost at an end and I don’t want to scare her by acting like a Neanderthal, but there’s no way I can stop it. I’m usually smooth with women, but CC is unlike any woman I’ve ever known. Hell, her effect on me is unlike any before her. She lights a fire inside my blood and whenever she’s near, I can feel it burning.

I devour her lips as we make it to the door of her room. I kick open her door and it slams against the inside wall, bounces back enough that I have to push against it again as we cross the threshold. The bed is just about five feet in front of me, but that’s five feet too much. I turn and push her against the wall. For a second I gain my sanity enough to worry I’ve hurt her, but she’s busy pulling my shirt up my body. I alternate bracing her body with one hand and letting the wall support her while I get the damn thing off, grinning as she throws the shirt to the floor.

“So much better,” she breathes. “God, I love your body.”

“It’s all the swinging and driving balls into holes,” I tell her.

She lightly runs her nails on the middle of my chest, playing with the fine line of hair I have there, then stops to look up at me. She’s laughing, her eyes shining, her lips in a full smile that pull apart as the laughter bursts out.

“Maybe I’m starting to gain a new appreciation for golf.”

“Hold tight baby and I’ll make sure you do.”

Her hands move up my body slowly and link behind my neck. “I’m holding,” she whispers right before she brings her lips back to mine. I capture them, sucking on them, moaning at the burst of flavor that hits my tongue—strawberries from her lip gloss, and a sweetness in flavor that reminds me of sugar and candy. It’s a taste I associate solely with CC now, a taste that has become my one addiction.

A taste I have to get more of.

Her tongue wraps around mine, mating with it and feeling so perfect that I groan. Never. Never has a woman got to me the way that CC continually does. That means something, I’m sure, but right now, I don’t have the energy or the spare brain cells to think about it.

“We need you out of these damned clothes,” I mutter when we break away and I finally drag air back into my lungs. She grins at me, her hands going to unbutton her pants.

“Let me down,” she breathes. My fingers tighten into her ass, automatically fighting the command. I don’t want her out of my arms. Where CC is concerned, I find I react very much like a caveman. “Gray,” she whimpers, her hips thrusting against me. Her need is heavy in her voice. “I need to feel my skin against yours.” Her words somehow seep through the fog in my brain, the same brain that demands I take her but is too lust-filled to work out the logistics.

I gather her one last time against my body, angling and tilting her so that her pussy is aligned perfectly with my dick and then I grind into her. Even through our clothes, I know she can feel how hard and ready I am. I want her to know exactly what she’s doing to me. Her hands have moved and I can feel her nails bite into my back as she struggles to remain tightly pressed against me—not wanting to let go—just like me. Finally, she takes control and pushes away from me and I’m forced to set her on the floor. My hands feel empty and I’m tempted to keep one hand on her as she undresses, except I need my own clothes out of the way. I immediately go to work unbuttoning my pants and pushing them from my body. I kick them somewhere, not really giving a fuck. I’m just thankful I had the foresight to take off my shoes when I first got here.

When I look back up, CC has already undressed except for her bra and panties: little pieces of dark blue silk that cling to her body and highlight the creamy white skin perfectly. I don’t think I took the time to admire her body the first time we were together. That was a haze of lust and the buzz of alcohol. This is different. This time the lust is still here, but I’m stone cold sober and the truth is: I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman. Everything about her is perfect from the way her hips curve out into an hourglass figure to the perfect rise of her breasts, which move with every hard breath she takes and overfilling that silky bra. Perfect and mine to play with.

I drop to my knees in front of her without a second thought. I’ve made a lifetime of making women get on their knees to please me. This is just another thing that sets CC apart.

“Gray?” she whispers.

Her hands go to my shoulders. They feel small against the muscles there—small but perfect. My arms go around her, pulling her into me, and I kiss her stomach. Warm, soft skin brushes against my lips and I taste her delicate, sugary sweetness with a kick of something that hits my system and grabs hold of me like nothing before—and, I fear, nothing after. Pure CC.

“Shh…” I quiet her, letting my lips trail down the small area to the rim of her panties and breathe in the scent of her desire. Slowly, I push her panties down, revealing her pussy to me. I kiss down one hip and then the other. Greedy woman that CC is, her fingers curl into my hair and she does her best to pull me tight against her. I resist, but only because I plan on showing her who exactly is in charge. I push her underwear down, letting them pool at her ankles. “Step out of them, sweetheart,” I encourage her, moving my hands along the backs of her legs. Once she does, I push my head between her legs. She widens her stance for me, but growls in frustration when I don’t immediately give her what she wants. Instead, I find myself kissing along the side of her knee, tasting the skin there. The taste is much the same as her sweet lips with just a hint of salty flavor mixed in. I run my tongue along her thigh, moving closer to the center of her—the part where we both want my mouth. I know she feels the same because of the way she’s trying to ride the side of my head, thrusting that sweet pussy towards me. She’s hungry and full of need and I’m going to make sure I give her exactly what she wants… except it’ll be at my pace.

I capture a small bite of her thigh between my lips, sucking on it. I make a mark there. I can tell by the small pop when I release suction, and I love the look of her darkened red skin almost as much as the hiss of breath she releases above me. I move my tongue over the skin, licking it, rewarding it for taking my mark.

“Gray… son…”

CC uses my full name, stopping halfway to moan so it comes out broken in half and something about that grabs hold of me. It makes me feel powerful that I’m doing this to her. It’s my touch, my lips, me who is making her let go of her control. Since I’ve been in Kentucky, one thing is clear to me: CC rarely lets down her guard or gives up control, yet she does both of those things with me. Both.

I nibble up her thigh, pulling just enough to let her know I’m there and what I’m doing. It’s not designed for anything other than teasing. I groan as a fresh wave of her desire hits me, calling me. My hands clench against the backs of her thighs as I bite a little harder, pulling the skin out this time before letting go completely and kissing away the sting.

“Gray, please,” she whispers.

Her voice is hoarse and threaded with need. I growl, giving in to the pleading in her voice and my own desire to taste her.

I shift so that I’m facing her. I look up and those green eyes are liquid pools, shining so bright they might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I keep my eyes locked on her even as I bring my hands up her legs and use each thumb to pull apart the lips of her juicy little cunt. The liquid proof of her hunger has her lips swollen and coated slick and wet. I flatten my tongue to lick it up, all the while watching her. Her taste literally explodes in my mouth. I’d forgotten it. It’s haunted me, and yet there’s no way I could have recalled just how good it was. It’s sweet, tangy, earthy… CC.

The small taste does nothing but spur me on. I slide my tongue inside, still holding it flat and licking from the bottom all the way to the swollen nub that pulsates at the top. CC’s head goes back and she moans. Her legs quake beside me, but smart woman that she is, she uses the wall to hold herself up. I lash my tongue against her clit, feeling more of her juices drip onto my tongue, and I greedily suck it all in. CC is moaning now, looking down and trying to watch everything I’m doing. Her own hands go to her breasts as she teases her nipples, helping to build her own pleasure. If there’s one thing about CC that I love the most, it’s the fact that she’s not shy. She takes what she wants and she doesn’t back away from showing me what she enjoys. But then, I know what she likes.

With that thought in mind, I push her slightly so she knows to put more weight on the wall. I brace my hand on one of her thighs, then lift her other leg and hike it over my shoulder. That move brings her pussy impossibly close. Her cream, her scent… it’s smothering me as she’s basically sitting on my face now. She’s so hungry for it she’s thrusting down on my face, crying out because the way I have her now has opened her up and vulnerable to my every lick, my every touch.

“Shit…” she whispers above me. I smile, pushing up on her body and moving my face down. I stiffen my tongue so I can thrust inside of her, licking the walls I’m going to be thrusting into and widening with my cock very fucking soon. My dick is so hard right now, it could bust concrete, and I’m not sure that’s stretching it at this point. I can’t remember being so ready to explode. I can feel pre-cum slithering down the side of my shaft and balls now. I need to finish her off like this and get inside of her soon before this is over and in no way ends like I want it to.

I reluctantly take my tongue out of the sweet little hole I’m enjoying toying with. CC whines in dislike too, and that makes me smile. To reward her, I take two of my fingers and run them through her juices, not stopping until I can manipulate her clit with them.

“You like that, sweetheart?” I ask her, letting my warm breath tease her pussy even more.

“God, yes… You have a magic tongue, Gray.”

“Is that so?” I ask her, grinning as I use my fingers to push against her clit. It immediately plumps up against my fingers, pulsing hard. She’s fucking close to coming, too.

“Oh, hell. Do that again,” she demands, trying to grind down even harder on my face. I pinch her clit this time, pulling on it just to add to the sensations. CC’s hands pull my hair so tight, if I don’t get her off soon, I may have a few bald spots. Time to stop messing around. I let my fingers glide back down her pussy, coming together just as I reach her entrance. I dance them around the opening, watching as her breath comes in ragged bursts.

“I’m going to make you come, CC. And then when I’m done, I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk,” I warn her. I think she must be beyond talking rationally because she’s thrusting down on me, her body trembling.

“Gray, please,” she pleads. The words are weak and need pulsates in every syllable. What man could resist?

I thrust two fingers inside of her as deep as I can go at the same time my tongue goes back to licking on her clit. CC cries out above me, her sweet cream bathing my face as she pushes down on me, and rides my face. I give her what she wants, letting her control the way her clit moves against my tongue, her thighs tightening up against my face. She rides me hard and fast trying to get her orgasm. I thrust my fingers in and out of her, pulling them apart and stretching her walls as they try to suck me deeper into her depths. Heaven. So wet and hot… tight. I can barely keep my wits about me as I think of getting my dick inside of her. I pull her harder against me, eating that sweet cunt as much as I can. Just as I angle my fingers to scrape against her walls, I suck her clit in my mouth and hold it while thrusting into her over and over—pounding her pussy with my hand. It doesn’t take two minutes before she’s crying out her release and coming all over my fingers and face, her entire body shaking. I keep up my actions until she’s ridden the orgasm as far as she can and she’s brokenly saying my name over and over. My name. I can’t help but feel a sense of pride in that. Finally, I just kiss against her clit and the inside of her thighs and slow my strokes with my hand to a very leisurely pace, allowing her to come back down to earth, but not completely settle.

“Damn,” she says. “I thought our weekend would be hard to top, but…”

I pull away to look at her. Her eyes are glazed, but she’s looking down at me and smiling.

I bring my hand down, hating the fact that I’m leaving her body, even knowing I’ll soon be sunk inside of it. I stroke my cock a few times. My hand and fingers are covered in CC’s cum. I allow the liquid to slide over my cock, painting him in the woman he’s going to fuck into oblivion soon. I squeeze the head tight, trying to beat back my own fucking climax. That’s not going to happen until I at least get back inside of her for a few minutes.

“Ready for round two?” she asks, even though she’s still breathless.

Did I mention she might just be perfect?

“More than ready. Time for you to move that cute ass of yours to the bed.”

“I thought you wanted to take me against the wall?” She grins, moving away from me and all but hopping backwards on the bed. Her hands go behind her and she wraps each one around one of the wood bed posts on the headboard. She slowly spreads her legs, daring me to come aboard.

“I will. Right now, I plan on sinking balls-deep inside of you.”

She lets go with one of her hands to reach across to her nightstand drawer. She blindly feels around and then comes out with two condoms, tossing them at me.

“Safety first?” I grin, grabbing one and tearing it open with my teeth.

“I’m a safety girl,” she agrees, her eyes following me as I slide the latex over my dick.

“I like that about you,” I tell her, positioning my cock at her entrance.

“You do?” she asks, bringing her eyes back to me.

“It’s one of the many things I like about you, Cooper,” I tell her, and before she can give me some smartass reply, I push inside of her, bracing myself over her body and not stopping until I’m balls-deep and my cock is pushed in so fucking far she’s completely filled.

“Fuck,” she huffs as a giant breath leaves her body.

“You okay?” I ask, needing to make sure before I continue.

“Just being reminded how those internet sites weren’t exaggerating when they were talking about your nine iron.”

I’ve always hated that garbage, even if I did enjoy the ladies who helped give me the reputation as the golf stud packing nine inches of steel to drive with between his legs.

“Nine? I must demand a reprint. It’s more like twelve,” I joke, starting to move inside of her.

“Now who’s embellishing?”

“You think so?”

“I was guessing around ten,” she says, starting to adjust to the rhythm I’m setting.

“Silly woman. I will make it my mission to prove you wrong,” I groan.

After that, neither of us can talk because she’s squeezed my cock inside of her and my balls are so tight, I know my orgasm is close and there’s no fucking way I’m going to come unless she does again. So I set my mind to that. Right now, that’s all that matters.

Later, I’ll think about how it’s possible that CC manages to give me the best sex I’ve ever had and still make me laugh at the same time. Much later.

“Tell me again why we have to get up from here?” I whine, curling under the covers. It’s been two days… two glorious days since I let Gray back in my bed. Two days in which we’ve been boinking like rabbits. My body is sore in the most delicious places. I’m fast becoming addicted to having him around, which is probably bad. It’s also why I’m whining about not wanting to get out of bed.

“Because you are having lunch with your friend today and I have that meeting with Riverton.”

“That name isn’t allowed in my bed,” I grumble, running my hand from the top of his chest down his stomach, loving the heated skin and soft masculine feel of him. All man. That’s who Grayson Lucas is, and what a man. I feel every feminine thing in me stretch and purr just looking at that smile on his beautiful face.

“Will you tell me the history between you and… the ones who shall not be named?” He grins. I want to keep the happy in the room, but I swear, one thought of Cammie and her father nearly sucks it all out. It’s not Gray’s fault. He has no idea the can of worms that are the Rivertons. I wish I didn’t.

“That’s a long, horrid story, one that would ruin my good after-sex mood.”

“Humor me,” he says, pulling me into his warm body. I drape my leg over him, his heated skin feeling as if it’s branding my leg. I feel his fingers sifting through my curls, and my eyes close. This. Just like this, being here with Gray, is as close as I’ve ever come to perfect. I don’t want to move. I don’t want to talk. All I want is to lie here and soak up this feeling and hold it close so that I can remember it years from now.

“Believe it or not, there was once a time when Cammie and I were good friends.”

“Yeah, I’m not buying that. You two are way too different.”

“Well, it was the second grade,” I correct, and he laughs.

“Now that makes sense.”

“Yeah we were friends up until the fifth grade.”

“What happened in the fifth grade?” Gray asks, sounding distracted.

I look up and can see him from my peripheral vision playing with my hair, combing through it and then bending down. A second later, I feel a light kiss on the top of my head. I close my eyes and savor that feeling. I’m going to be honest. Banger was an amazing man, but he wasn’t very demonstrative. In fact, I can’t really remember getting kisses or hugs growing up. Heaven knows my mother wasn’t one to do that. Banger… well, I always knew he loved me. That was never a question, but he wasn’t really the hugging or kissing type. The closest he came was hugging me and slapping me on the back when I rebuilt my first engine and it purred like a kitten when he tried it out. He half hugged me and half gave me an approving slap and told me he was proud of me. I felt like I hung the moon. So, Gray doing this now feels… strange and good. Very good. Too good.

“You with me?” he prompts me when I get lost in my thoughts.

“Cammie’s mother learned of our friendship.”

“And?”

“And that was it. Her daughter couldn’t fraternize with someone below their standing in the neighborhood.”

“What a bitch. I’m suddenly glad that’s one Riverton I haven’t met.”

“Yeah, Cammie’s parents divorced a while back. Davina moved to Paris with some shipping tycoon. She didn’t want Cammie.”

“Shit, that’s rough.”

“Yeah. Some mothers shouldn’t have kids,” I agree, but I’m thinking completely about my own mother.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and I shrug off his concern, feeling my face heat. I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me. I especially don’t want them to know how much my mother’s actions hurt me.

“Anyway, once Cammie realized she shouldn’t be seen with someone who was beneath her, that pretty much ended our friendship.”

“That’s it? I could have sworn there was more animosity than that between the two of you.”

“Well, add in high school, us liking some of the same boys, years of resentment and a few other spices, and you have a recipe for disaster.”

“Women are just too fucking complicated.”

“This is why I prefer to hang around men.”

“Well, that’s one thing I can be glad of,” he says, pulling me on the bed until he has me pinned on the mattress and he’s leaning over me. “Being a man, I can tell you, Cooper, that I’m glad you prefer hanging around me too,” he whispers, bending down and placing a small kiss on my chin and then slowly moving along the main bone in my jawline. He’s cupping my face with his hands, his thumb brushing against my skin, and he’s holding me so gently I could get lost in the needs he’s awakening inside of me.

“Well, I aim to please.”

“Show me,” he says, sucking gently on my neck and nibbling there. I’m trying to concentrate on what he’s saying, but the desire and heat he’s stoking inside of me almost makes it impossible.

“Show you what?” I gasp just as I feel one of his hands move between my legs.

“How much you want to please me.”

“We’ll be late,” I tell him, but not really giving a damn. I’m sure he can tell by the way I spread my legs to allow him easier access.

“I don’t really give a fuck,” he says just as I feel his fingers slide into my pussy.

“In that case,” I gasp as he thrusts his fingers hard and deep inside my walls.

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me, Gray. Oh god, fuck me and don’t stop.”

“I got you,” he whispers against my lips, driving his fingers in again just as his tongue thrusts into my mouth. “I got you,” he says again, and he does. I’m addicted to this man. It’s never happened before, but it’s too late to stop it now. I let myself get lost in the sensations he’s creating in my body and try to ignore the fear—at least for now.

“You’re late,” Miranda grumbles as I walk through the diner to the back booth—the same booth Miranda claims every freaking time we eat here. She demands we sit at the back of the room, and she always faces the doors. She’s got more than a few issues. She’s also the one friend besides Jackson that I allow in my life, so I put up with the quirks. God knows I have more than enough of my own.

“I had sex,” I tell her, smiling sweetly and grabbing a menu. “Have you already ordered? I’m starving.”

“Wait… you had sex? You’re smiling and you’re starving? Who are you and what have you done with my best friend who is always grouchy, says men aren’t worth the trouble, and who eats like a horse but usually not until the afternoon so she can wake up?”

“Hmmm… Yes, I had sex, and it was awesome sex, so of course I’m smiling. It’s almost noon, so I’m awake enough and I’m starving because having sex on the regular is exhausting. I need food to keep up my stamina.”

“I’ve entered some kind of alternate universe, haven’t I? That’s the only explanation. Oh, and I think I hate you in this universe, too.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because the beauty of our relationship is: we both bitch and quarrel about men and go long periods without sex and can whine about how lacking our vibrators are.”

“What can I get you girls?” the waitress asks, interrupting us. Miranda orders a chicken salad and an iced tea. Usually I would order the same, but today I really am hungry.

“I’ll have the turkey club, no mayo, and an order of fries, and a tea to drink too, please?”

The waitress leaves, and I catch Miranda staring at me with her mouth open. My best friend since sixth grade, Miranda Kerr is everything I’m not. She’s tiny, small-breasted, and so pretty it hurts. She’s got dark black hair and shining blue eyes that look almost lavender in color. She wears glasses in the newest, trendiest frames and has plump to-die-for lips smothered in dark red lipstick. We don’t match at all—the grease monkey tomboy and the book nerd, girly-girl—but somehow we click on every front. I trust her with my life. She’s as loyal as they come.

“I think I could hate you,” she huffs.

“You can’t. You love me. Besides, you have Kurt, right?”

“Wrong. I kicked him to the curb.”

“What? Why? I thought you two were getting along great?”

“I thought we were, too, and then I discovered he was getting along just as well with a girl in Harvest Corners,” she says, naming a small town two counties over.

“That asshole.”

“Amen to that.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“You were gone to Lexington for the weekend. I didn’t want to bother you, and I’ve been so busy with training that I hadn’t been able to check in with you until now. Though, it sounds like I should have. So tell me all about your new boy toy! And leave nothing out.”

“There’s not a lot to tell. I met him in Lexington, and we—”

“You’re kidding me? You are on friendship probation! You should have told me that you met someone!”

“Well, at the time I didn’t think it’d be anything past the weekend…”

“The weekend?”

I feel the blush hit my face before I can stop it, and I shrug. “Yeah, well…”

“How have we lost touch this much?”

“You’ve been busy, Mer. I have, too. It happens.”

“Yeah, well, we need to put the kibosh on that right now.”

“Hey, it’s not completely my fault. Kurt didn’t exactly give you spare time to—”

“You’re right. Let’s not talk about that douchebag anymore. That’s over and done. D. O. N. E.”

“Douche canoe is more like it.”

“Girl, you ain’t lying.”

“So tell me more about Mr. Curl-My-Toes-For-The-Weekend and how it’s still going on! Was it that good?”

“Umm, it was better than good.”

“Better? You’re saying on a scale of one to ten, he’s a…?”

“Off the charts.”

“Holy fluck,” she whispers the fake curse word in awe.

“I know,” I agree, and in my whole life, it’s probably as close as I’ve come to sounding like a giddy teen discussing prom.

“You told him where you lived?” she asks, and again I feel the telltale heat spread on my face. What is up with that? I’m not a blusher! Then again, I’m not the kind of woman who discusses boys at a crowded diner either.

“Well, no. That was by accident?”

“Accident? He’s not a stalker, is he? Did he follow you and find you? Oh my God, C! You have to be careful. This is the kind of shit they make TV movies about!”

“He didn’t follow me home. At least, not on purpose. His car broke down while he was in town for business. He had no idea that I was here.”

“I don’t know, C. That sounds kind of fishy to me.”

“Well, it’s not. He had no idea it was me. In fact, he was kind of a jerk until he figured it out.”

“A jerk?”

“He’s kind of…” I sigh. I don’t really want to talk about this part even though I know that I need to, at least with Mer. Besides, if there’s one thing that worries me the most about Gray—other than the fact that he’s not going to be around for a very long time—it’s that he has money. He has lots of money. He deals with people who have money. He deals with people I can’t stand. He deals with people who would rather see me dead than draw another breath.

Okay. So there’s lots of things that worry me about Gray. They all stem around his money, though.

“Earth to C! Hello, can you hear me?” Mer asks, waving her hand in my face like an idiot.

“Stop that.” I knock her hand out of the way. “He has money, Mer.”

“So? That’s good, honey. Geez, you had me thinking that he had herpes or something.”

“You don’t get it. He’s here on business.”

“C, I hate to break it to you, but not everyone in the world holds down a job that keeps them in one place. This is good. That means he can come visit you when he’s on the road, and…”

“He’s here on business to meet with David Riverton.”

“Flucking hell.”

“Yeah.”

“Does he know what a butt-munch the man is?”

“Probably not, but then again, Gray has money. I imagine good old Dave is much nicer to him than he has ever been to me.”

“That wouldn’t be hard to do. I’m sorry, C.”

“It can’t be helped.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“For what?”

“Well, this guy works with Riverton, and yet you’re not kicking him to the curb. You get major props, lady. He’s either special to you or he’s got one hell of a…”

Even before she finishes the sentence, I know what she’s going to say. I squirm in my chair because I might have sounded giddy, but I don’t do this female sharing thing easily—even with Mer.

“Oh. My. God,” she says. I’m looking down at my shoes, and even though I know I’m in trouble, I’m still surprised when she continues. “Claudia Cooper! You got a hold of the holy grail.”

I look up, side-eyeing everyone around us to see if they are paying attention to Mer. Thankfully, they don’t seem to be. “Mer!” I grumble.

“You did, didn’t you? You hooker!”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, almost afraid of what she’ll say next.

“The three-peater.”

“The what?” I ask, having no idea what she’s talking about. Though he usually does give me three orgasms before he’s done—that I’m not going to discuss with her at the diner.

“Here ya go, ladies,” the waitress says, thankfully interrupting our conversation. We spend the next few minutes arranging our food, and just when I think we’ve finished this whole conversation, Mer starts back up.

“A three-peater. That means he has brains,” she says, holding a finger up. I nod because Gray is extremely smart and witty, it’s one of the things I really like about him. “He has money, or at least a steady job so you don’t have to keep his ass up,” she continues, holding a second finger up. I don’t respond because I figure she knows that. “And finally, he has at least seven inches when you take a ride on the man train.”

“You did not just say that,” I gasp, knowing I’m blushing from head to toe now. I look all around us, just knowing everyone has heard what she said.

“I did, and from your reaction, I can tell the answer is affirmative. So how much are we talking here?”

“Will you stop? Honestly, Mer, I am not answering that at all. No way.”

“So more than seven?”

“Oh my God! Who are you and what have you done with my quiet, kindergarten school teaching friend?”

“Answer the question and I’ll let it drop.”

“I will not.”

“Fine, I’ll just ask him when I see you two out together.”

“You would not!”

“Try me. Now are you going to give the deets or what?”

“I have no idea!”

“Bullshit!”

“It’s true! I haven’t exactly taken the time to measure it.”

“Measure what?”

I look up at the question to see Mer’s sister Valerie standing at our table. Christ! That’s all I need. Crosstown has three methods of communication: telephone, telegraph, and tell Valerie. Seriously, when you need something spread around town, all you have to do is let Valerie know and it’s all over this town and two counties over by nightfall.

“C here has got hold of the mythical bigfoot.”

“Jesus,” I mutter.

“Mythical bigfoot?”

“Her new boy toy is big.”

“Ohhhh… Do tell! Give me all the juicy details, and I do mean juicy,” Valerie says, pushing Mer over and sitting down with us.

“There are no details! I keep telling Mer! I haven’t measured it! I have no idea.”

It’s a bold faced lie. I mean, I haven’t measured his dick. I did read the tabloids though and the general consensus from all the women in his harem is that Grayson Lucas, golf’s new young stud, is packing a very thick nine iron between his legs. I think they might be doing him a disservice. After experiencing him inside of me, I’d say he’s closer to ten--not that I’ve had that many, and certainly none to compare his size with.

“You flucking hooker! You’re holding back from us,” Mer says. Jesus! I hate that she knows me so well.

“Shit. If I tell you, will this conversation please drop?”

“Totally,” Mer says. “Absolutely,” Valerie joins in, and for some strange reason, I don’t trust either of them.

“I mean it, and Val, if this gets out, I will tell Elmer at Pro-Hardware you have a thing for him,” I warn her. Elmer is a fifty-year-old, never-been-married-before bachelor who goes cruising parking lots looking for women. Not just any women, however. No, Elmer wants women that are at least twenty years younger than him. Never mind that he’s got a beer belly, thinning hair that he combs over, and none of his own teeth. No, the real problem is that the man is as stingy as they come. He probably has more money in his checking account than even Grayson. But the reason it’s there is because he is a skin-flint. According to a very good source (Valerie), the man has only used one pack of light bulbs in two years. The reason for that is, he gets out one light bulb and uses it in whatever room he’s in. When he leaves that room, he unscrews it from the lamp and moves it into the next room with him. Rumor has it—again from Valerie—he also takes the time to separate every roll of two-ply toilet paper so he gets twice the use out of it.

“That’s just mean, C.”

“Promise.”

“Fine, I promise. I don’t see what the problem is. If I had a man with a big dick, I’d be shouting that shit near and far. Hell, I’d be so loud in the bedroom that the whole county would know it anyway,” Valerie says, and I flip her off.

“Spill,” they say together, and I take a breath. Did I mention this oversharing and girl-time isn’t easy for me? Yet another reason why other than Mer and, obviously sometimes by default, Valerie, I don’t have girlfriends. You wouldn’t catch Jackson asking me about the size of Gray’s dick.

“I honestly haven’t measured it. Though the tabloids say he is nine inches.”

“Sweet mother of… Wait. Hold the flucking presses and call Maury to find the baby daddy. Did you say tabloids?”

“Yeah.”

“C, you said he had money, but you didn’t say he was famous. Just who the hell are you dating?”

“Damn it! If you’re dating my man, I’m going to hate you for life!”

“Trust me when I tell you, Valerie, that I’m not dating the lead singer from that band.”

“His name is Adam and he’s mine. His wife is the only thing in my way, but that won’t last much longer. She doesn’t understand him like I do.”

My eyes go over to Mer, who’s pointing a finger at her head and spinning it in a circle to indicate that her sister’s whack-a-do. That’s a sentiment I wholeheartedly agree with.

“It’s Grayson Lucas,” I tell them, and they look at each other in question. It’s good to know I’m not the only one who doesn’t follow golf. “He plays golf,” I add.

Valerie is the first one to look him up on her phone. “Oh. My. God,” she whispers to her screen.

“Sweet Jesus,” Mer adds, yanking her phone over to look at it.

“Does he have a brother?” they both say together and I laugh—a real laugh, because just like that, I’m good. I feel really good. They aren’t saying Gray is out of my league. They aren’t telling me I’m crazy for seeing him. Just the opposite, and so I laugh and then proceed to tell them about his colorful (pun intended) family.

This might just work out after all.

“What do you mean we’re taking the boat out?” I grumble, trying to keep my game face on, but really just wanting to get the hell out of here. I feel like I’m in level three of hell. Three levels, because there are three major things fucking with my plans for the day. One, I’m on Riverton’s sea cruiser, which is most definitely not a sailboat. Secondly, Cammie has been flirting and pawing at me for the last hour, and finally, Riverton is M.I.A. “Your father’s not even here yet.”

“I told you, daddy said he may be held up at the office and for us not to wait for him,” Cammie says almost giddily. Hell, I’m a man, and I’m the first to admit men are usually clueless, but even I can see the calculating in her eyes.

“Honestly, Cammie, I have plans for this evening. We can just reschedule this and do it some other time.”

“What? Why? I’m here and, Gray, I am the CEO for daddy’s marketing. It’s really me you should talk to about this anyway.”

“You are? Then why has your father been…”

“Daddy was just being generous with his time, Gray. He likes you. But honestly, I’m the one who usually makes all the decisions about corporate sponsoring. I had the cook prepare us a nice lunch, and with daddy not here, that means there will be more than enough food. How about we take the boat out? There’s a nice island in the middle of the lake. We can drop anchor close to it and enjoy lunch and talk business?”

Warning bells are going off in my head. Cammie’s got me in her sights and that really is reason for me to turn her down. On the other hand, it appears I’m never going to get to talk to Riverton one-on-one about this. If Cammie is really the one in charge here, it would be smart to deal with her, get it over with, and put this entire trip behind me.

“I have dinner plans tonight I can’t be late for,” I warn her. I promised CC I’d take her out to eat to make up for the other night and I have every intention to keep that promise.

“I can always call the club and…”

“It’s not the club. I have dinner plans with CC tonight.”

“CC?” she asks, sounding confused. “Are you dating Claudia?”

The tone of her voice gets on my nerves as well as the scandalized look on her face.

“We’ve gone out a few times, yes. Is there a problem?”

“Well, no. I mean, who you see is your business, I guess. I just thought that you and I had a connection.”

“Listen, Cammie. You’re a very nice person and all and I have the upmost respect for you, but I’m afraid I don’t really date people I work with in any way.”

“But…”

“I just find it bad practice to mix business and pleasure,” I tell her, cutting her off. “I’m sure you understand.”

“Well, not really. I mean, we’re both adults and we have similar interests and…”

“It’s just a personal rule,” I tell her again, cutting her off before she can keep going. I need to shut this down and get it back under control. She studies me for a minute, then something passes over her face and I feel another warning bell go off, but in a second the look is gone and I have to wonder if I imagined it.

“Fine, then. We’ll be business partners,” she says, holding out her hand. I take it and I can’t help but feel that this seems just way too easy.

“Business partners,” I agree.

“And friends. We can be friends, right? One can’t have too many of those.”

“I completely agree,” I tell her with a smile, starting to feel very relieved that all of this is out in the open. It’s the best thing really, to be upfront with each other.

“Great. Now that we have that out of the way, why don’t we skip taking the boat out and instead have a business luncheon at the club and discuss what our sponsorship exactly means?”

“Means? You would sponsor me for the golf tournaments I make. Your name would go on my gear…”

“It’s much more involved than that, surely you understand,” Cammie says, then links her arm into mine as we begin walking towards the docks.

“I mean, I know there’s more business to be decided and, of course, a contract, but…”

“It’s not just that, Gray. If Riverton Metals is going to sponsor you, then you are in essence going to be the face of our company.”

“Of course.”

“That means social engagements…”

“What type of social engagements? I mean, I do have the tour, and…”

“Dinners, parties, autograph sessions while out on tour. And there will be…”

“I’m a golfer, Cammie. Not a rock star.”

“In some circles, I’m sure you can agree that is the same thing,” she says, and before I know what’s happening, she’s led us to her father’s limo. Who has a limo just waiting in the parking lot for whenever you need them? Cammie and David Riverton, I suppose. The driver comes around and opens the door and Cammie slides in. “Are you coming, Grayson?” she asks, waiting.

I stare at her for a minute. I have this horrible feeling I’m selling my soul to the devil. I hear Seth’s voice in my head demanding I go through with this meeting. I take a deep breath and agree before I can talk myself out of it.

As I’m closed in the car with Cammie, I just know I’m going to live to regret this.

“I can’t believe you’re asking me to do this, Grayson Lucas,” I growl, feeling completely out of my depth.

“It’s one business dinner. It won’t be that bad,” he says, kissing the back of my neck.

“It’s one business dinner at that damn country club with Camilla and her father and a bunch of other…”

“Sweet lips, I told you. Cammie said she’d be on her best behavior. I talked with her about you. It’s going to be fine. I promise.”

“That’s just it. I don’t want you to talk to her about me. I can fight my own battles, Grayson Lucas. I’ve been doing it way before you came in the picture.”

“Point made. I just really want you with me tonight. Is that so hard to understand?” he asks, pulling away to button his cufflinks. His cufflinks. How did I get here? This is not who I am. My eyes travel down his body and then I remember why: sex. Heart-stopping, take-your-breath-away sex. I thought it might cool off after a few days. It’s been two weeks, and if anything, it just keeps getting better. I don’t know how that’s possible or how to explain it. The simple truth is that I’m getting addicted to Grayson Lucas—so much so that he’s practically living here. He still keeps his room, but he’s definitely here ninety percent of the time. I might have even given him a key the other day when he said he was going to cook dinner for me and have it waiting when I got home from the garage—a dinner that happened to be amazing, and the fact that dessert was him eating me after just made it even better. So… he still has the key. I don’t know a woman alive who would judge me. There’s some things a woman can’t resist and Grayson Lucas does indeed have a magic tongue. That said, I’m not even sure a magic tongue is enough to make me go through with this damn dinner.

“I have another question, how did you know what size to buy this damn dress?” I ask him through the mirror. It’s a red dress that’s all silk and hugs my body like a glove. It shows way too much of my breasts, though at least the valley it exposes is covered by a small scrap of lace that stretches across the front. The dress ends just above the knee and it’s so tight that walking normal and not like a damn duck isn’t exactly easy. Then comes the heels. I am not a small woman in any sense, but I’m a firm believer that a woman who stands five-foot-ten shouldn’t wear four-inch heels. Okay, well, let me amend that: I shouldn’t wear four-inch heels. I’m not graceful like a lot of women. Instead, I feel like freaking Godzilla standing over everyone else and teetering on the edge of a cliff because my balance sucks. The only saving grace is that Gray is so tall that he’s still taller than me, even in these damn shoes. I turn around to look at him and my stomach is so queasy, I feel like there’s a war going on inside of it.

“Sweetheart, a man knows the measurements of a body he worships. It was easy.”

“I don’t think we should talk about how easy it is for you to figure out a woman’s measurements,” I tell him, just slightly annoyed and ignoring his sweet talk.

“Fair enough.”

“Besides that, however, where did you find a place that sold dresses like this around here?”

Gray breaks eye contact and looks down at his tie and then turns away heading to where his shoes are. “It wasn’t that hard,” he says, and his voice sounds… different. I see those red flags—the ones I seem to see a lot when Gray is around.

“Gray?”

“It’s a little shop in Addington,” he says and shrugs. “What does it matter? It worked and you look gorgeous. You’re going to be the most beautiful woman there. That’s what is important.”

“I guess so,” I tell him, still not convinced. I can’t help feeling like Gray’s keeping something from me.

“Are you ready, sweet lips?” Grayson asks once he has his shoes on. He looks amazing, and as much as I don’t want to go to this damn dinner, I do want to be around Gray. Besides, as much as I might want to deny it, Gray and I are dating. Hell, we’re practically living together. There’s a perverse side of me that wants to see what life with a pro-golfer is truly like. I realize I’m looking for reasons to push him away even as I want to keep him close. There’s a need inside of me to prove that we’re just too different to ever make this work. Jackson is right when he tells me I’m a complicated woman. I sigh and take a deep breath for courage.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“That’s my woman,” he says, and he has no way of knowing how his words set off butterflies in my system and how they warm me. I want to be his woman, even though I’m trying to find reasons to keep him away. See? Complicated.

He wraps his arms around me and hugs me close. He kisses the side of my neck and I can feel his tongue coming out to lick along my pulse point.

“Thank you for doing this for me, Cooper. I know you’d rather be shot. It means a lot,” he whispers, and a little more of resistance fades. That’s why I agreed to this damn dinner. That, right there.

“Let’s just get it over with,” I sigh grudgingly.

He laughs and leads me to the door. “It won’t be that bad, sweet lips. It’ll be over before you know it. We’ll make an appearance and leave as early as we can get away with,” he says, closing the door behind us. The sound of it echoes and sounds like my doom.

“It will be that bad. I’ll have to be in the same room with Cammie Riverton and her father.”

“Cammie promised she’d be on her best behavior. She knows you’re important to me. It will be okay, you’ll see.”

“You told her I’m important to you?”

“Of course,” he says, acting like those words don’t mean anything… like they didn’t just shake up my whole world.

I sit in the car as he closes my door and I can only think one thing: I’m important to Gray Lucas.

“Why are all the women wearing white?” CC growls when we reach the large conference room where the dinner is being held. I get a bad feeling in my stomach as I look around. All the men are in black suits just like me, but that’s not the problem. Like CC said, all of the women are wearing white. The only one not is CC who is wearing the polar opposite: red. Fuck. She freezes in her tracks, which is okay because I’ve come to a stop too trying to figure out exactly what to do here. “Gray!” CC hisses and I wince. This could get ugly. I need to try and pave things over as best I can.

“Umm, I’m not real sure,” I tell her. Wow, that was really smooth.

“You’re not sure?” she asks, outraged. I’m not sure how a woman can whisper and screech at the same time, but I think CC has the ability down.

“Well, no. I mean, I wasn’t told there was a theme or anything…”

“I’m leaving! I knew it was a mistake to let you talk me into this,” she growls, turning away.

“Listen, we’re already here, so why don’t we just make an appearance and then we can leave? It seems silly to not at least—”

“Silly? Did you see anyone else in there with red on Gray?”

“Umm, well…”

“The servers!”

“Well, technically they’re wearing black and red,” I say and then wince. I know what she’s saying. You’d have to be stupid not to. Why did I have to pick out red for CC to wear?

“Why am I wearing red? Did you do this to me on purpose, Gray?” CC asks, echoing my thoughts—well, some of them. I turn to look at her, shocked that she would even have that thought in her head.

“Of course not! I like you in red. It reminded me of your hair—which I love, you know. I almost went with the green, but…”

“But why?” CC asks, and I can tell from her face that she’s not going to forgive me anytime soon.

“Well, the saleslady said that the green dress was last year’s, and when I told her it was a special night out… I’m sorry Cooper, I fucked up,” I tell her, truly feeling bad. “Come on. We’ll go and I’ll just call Riverton and explain that something came up.”

She looks up at me, her face heated almost to the red of her dress, but at least she doesn’t look like she wants to kill me now. That’s an improvement. I cup the side of her face, wanting her to believe me.

“Gray, I—”

“Grayson! What are you doing standing over here in the corner like you’re hiding?” Cammie’s high-pitched voice calls out from behind us. I see CC eyes close and a look of disappointment—or something, I’m at too much of a loss to describe right now—comes over her face. I feel like lead settles in my gut because this feels like my fault.

I turn around, intent on hiding CC behind me. I let my body completely block her.

“Cammie, I’m sorry, I’m afraid that something came up and—”

“It’s my fault. My dress snagged on a piece of trim that was loose in the door,” CC says, walking around me and coming to rest beside me. I immediately wrap my arm around her, anchoring her to me. I steal a glance at her. She looks calm, cool, and collected—not like she’s just been sucker punched by her stupid boyfriend.

Boyfriend? Is that what I am?

“Claude, my how… colorful you are tonight.”

“Thank you. I’m afraid Gray and I missed the memo about the dress code…?”

“What? Oh, the color! Yes, it’s our yearly black and white ball.”

“You didn’t tell me that when you invited me,” I tell her, wondering if this had been her plan all along. Women are spiteful creatures. Is this all because I shot down Cammie’s advances?

“I didn’t? I’m sure I did. Perhaps you didn’t hear me? You know how men are Claude, you mention a formal dance and their brains shut down.”

“I know exactly what happened,” CC says, and though she’s smiling, I can see the anger in her eyes. I really need to get her away from Cammie before this whole thing blows up.

“Oh well. It doesn’t really matter. You look lovely and you fit in just fine, Claude. It’s good you got here when you did, Grayson.”

“It is?” I ask, just anxious to put some distance between CC and Cammie.

“Yes! Father was asking where you were. He and Adams would like to see what a big time golf pro thinks of our greens,” she explains, wrapping her hand in mine and all but pushing CC out of the way. I look around her to try and see CC, but Cammie starts talking again. “You don’t care if I borrow your man for a little bit, do you, CC?”

“Actually, Cammie, if you don’t mind, I’d like to—” I start to argue pulling away from her.

“No, not at all,” CC says so sweetly, and it surprises me so much that I stop. She doesn’t?

“You don’t?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“Of course not. It’s all business. Right, Cammie?”

“Of course. Claude runs her own business, Gray. Of course she knows how this is done. She knows she’d just be in your way.”

“She wouldn’t—” I start again.

“I’ll be here waiting when you get back, Gray,” CC says, and she looks perfectly happy. I can’t tell if I’m falling into a trap or if she’s sincere. I’m still trying to figure it out when Cammie pulls me into the other room.

“Grayson! I was just wondering where you were,” Riverton says as we reach his side.

“I’m running a little late,” I tell him, looking over my shoulder to see if I can get a look at CC. I can’t find her anywhere. Did she just leave me here? Shit. I have to get out of here…

“It’s fine. Adams and I were just wondering how you like our greens. How about we take you for a quick tour?”

“Well, sir,” I start, but he cuts me off.

“Adams here is interested in working with you to create a line of clubs.”

“Clubs?”

“Exactly that, Lucas. And I’d like you to be the face of them.”

“Well, sir, I don’t know if I’d want my ugly mug on anything,” I joke, still trying to look around behind me for CC. I catch a glimpse of her smiling in the corner and talking to someone, which allows me to breathe a little easier. Maybe I’m overreacting after all.

“You’re the last person I ever expected to see here, CC!”

I look up at Jason and can’t help but smile. He doesn’t mean anything by it; he knows me and he knows everything that’s gone down between me, Cammie, and her father. He’s a hundred percent right. This is the last place I would choose to be. I’ve known Jason my whole life. His parents have money, and he does by default, I guess, but he doesn’t lord it over people. He’s as nice and easygoing as they come. In fact, I’m kind of surprised he’s here himself.

“No offense, but I didn’t really think I’d find you here either.”

“Yeah, it’s not my favorite thing, but my parents are out of town and mom is one of the ones that started this horse and pony show.”

“Ah. Family blackmail?”

“Exactly,” he laughs.

“What are you doing here? Not that I’m not glad to see you, but… well, you’re not exactly dressed for the black and white gala.”

I look down at my dress with a wry smile.

“Yeah, I’m a little…”

“Colorful?” Jason supplies helpfully and I have to laugh.

“Pretty much,” I sigh. “My boyfriend picked out the dress. I’m afraid he didn’t know about the whole black and white thing,” I tell him, and I’m pretty sure that’s the case after hearing Cammie talk. I’d lay odds that she’s somehow responsible.

“Oh, wow. I didn’t know you were dating someone. Who’s the lucky guy?”

That’s when it hits me. I referred to Gray as my boyfriend. My boyfriend. How did that happen? My heart speeds up and, for a moment, I think I might hyperventilate. My boyfriend!? Oh, God. What have I done?

“You okay, CC?” Jason asks because—well, heck, I don’t know. Maybe he can read the panic on my face. If anything is true in this moment, it’s the fact that I am in major panic mode.

“Umm… yeah, I think I just need to catch my breath. My dress may be a little tight. Excuse me a minute, Jason.” I don’t wait for him to answer, heading out of the room because the air in here feels as if it is suffocating me. I head towards the restrooms and see a small side entrance that says “Employees Only”. I head there. I don’t really know why except I know that’s the one place I won’t see Cammie Riverton and I don’t want her to see me when I’m in the middle of a meltdown. I don’t want to give her that satisfaction.

Once I get there, I drag air into my lungs. It shouldn’t come as such a huge shock that I have feelings for Gray—that I care for him. I mean, I am sleeping with him. Somehow, however, it is. I have a boyfriend. I have a rich, famous boyfriend. What the fuck am I doing? I look out the window and try and get control of myself. That was probably the worst thing I could do, however, because Gray is standing there… but he’s alone. Alone with Cammie. Something inside of me twists in pain as I see her reach up to brush something off of his face. Gray’s back is to me so I can’t see what he’s doing, but seeing them like this is enough. I can’t handle it. I need to leave. I need to get back to my world. I’ve just been kidding myself.

My hand moves up to the wall to brace myself because suddenly I’m feeling dizzy. This is just too much. It’s all too much. Cold hits my hand and I look up to see the lid of a control panel. I open it to discover that it’s the controls for the outdoor sprinkler system. I look back at Cammie and Gray and, without taking time to second guess myself, I hit the switch to on. Then, I turn the flow all the way up to maximum output.

“Take that,” I whisper, then walk back outside, making sure not to be spotted. Maybe I’ll get lucky and it will drown Cammie.

“I was wondering, David, when the contracts would be ready. Seth would like my attorney to go over them before the first tour stop next month.”

“You see that, Adams? Our man here is always thinking business. He’s nothing like what the tabloids have painted him to be.”

“I wondered,” Adams said as they discuss me. It’s on my mind to walk away. No amount of money is worth this shit. I’ll just pay my own way and say to hell with the committee. I win enough of the damn grunt tours they somehow corral me into; they can’t keep me out of the big ones. “There were rumors…”

“Bullshit rumors. Grayson here has been all business and upfront with me since he got here,” Riverton says, and I’m taken aback. I even feel a little guilty for not liking the man. Maybe I had him pegged all wrong.

“Thank you, sir.” I really appreciate that.

“Just stating the facts, boy.” Boy? Really? It’s been a long fucking time since I’ve been called a boy. I wouldn’t care if it is a long fucking time before they say it again.

“Adams here knows that a man has to sow his oats once in a while,” he says, and while I really don’t wish to have my sex life reviewed by these idiots, I clamp my jaw tight and let them go on. Whatever. As long as I nail down the contracts and get the fuck out of here, I’m happy. I just need to get back to Cooper. I’m just about to tell him that when he claps me hard on the back. “Hell, boy. In my day, I had my own wild days. A man needs that.”

“Daddy,” Cammie says, and it’s the first time I see true emotions on her face. Is it hurt? Anger? Maybe a mixture of the two.

“That’s all in the past, princess. All in the past. Anyway, Adams and I are going to leave you young kids alone to get better acquainted. They’re dating, Adams. You know I wouldn’t let someone harmful into my family, not after the shit we endured.”

Whoa! What the fuck?

“David, I think you have the wrong impression…”

“Daddy, please do. There are things Gray and I need to discuss,” Cammie jumps in, screeching on top of me. She reaches up and kisses her dad’s cheek. Before I can even catch my breath, they’re gone. I’m left with Cammie.

“What the fuck is going on here, Cammie? Why does your father think the two of us are dating?”

“Because we are.”

“The fuck we are.”

“Really, Gray, hanging around with that mechanic is having a bad effect on you. We don’t use those words in…”

“Woman, seriously. What in the hell would make you think we are dating?”

“You kissed me. Are you going to deny it?”

My stomach churns. I do remember that kiss, and I remember hating every second I endured it, but how the fuck we went from there to her even thinking in her damn mind that we are dating is what’s beyond me. What if she tells that shit to CC?

“You kissed me!” And fuck, now she has me screeching like a banshee.

“You didn’t pull away. Listen, Gray, I know you’ve been messing around with Claude, but honestly, you can’t see her as anyone long-term. A woman like that…”

“A woman like what?”

“A woman with her history. Surely you can’t think…”

Before she can go any further, the sprinklers turn on. For a second, we’re both standing there stunned and it doesn’t hit us what’s going on. Actually, my first thought is that it had begun raining. Yet when I look up, the sky is a beautiful dusk—not quite dark yet, as it’s painted a variety of colors that remind me of home. As the water pressure picks up and I hear the little motorized propellers and feel more of it hit me, I finally realize what’s going on. My head jerks up when I hear Cammie screaming. I look at her and she’s drenched, her big fancy sequined dress looking just droopy now. Her makeup is rolling down her face, the mascara so dark and runny she looks something akin to a raccoon. I grab her hand, more so she’ll stop screaming than anything else, and we take off running towards the club. Running however, is a relative term; Cammie is wearing heels—the kind with points on them that could probably kill a man—so it’s definitely more like a steady walk-jog. I think we’re almost home free when her ankle turns on the grass and she nearly falls. My hold on her and her knee keep her from completely going down.

As much as I don’t want to, I pick her up and quickly walk to the entrance. I set her down and she’s barely hit the floor before she wobbles, picking up her long dress and walking into the entrance. I can do nothing but follow, especially when a wet Riverton and his buddy come up behind us.

I look immediately for CC, just needing to make sure she’s okay. The only thing on my mind is to get my girl and get the fuck out of here. I should have known with women it is never that easy.

“Claudia Cooper, you did this!” Cammie screeches, and everything seems to come to a halt as if in slow motion—all the music, the talk, and the chatter. Hell, even the servers stop moving, and all eyes go to CC who is standing there looking beautiful and entirely too close to some fucking man. Cammie pretty much resembles a drowned rat.

Shit.

I can’t deny the glee that runs through me as I hear Cammie’s familiar and ultra-annoying shriek. I’m talking with Jason again and I school my face to show nothing but dismay. Years of dealing with shit like this makes it easy. As if on cue, I gasp when I turn around. When I see Cammie standing there like the drenched rat she is, I have to admit, it’s not that hard. Behind her is Gray and he’s wet, but he doesn’t look mad. No, there’s something else in his eyes—almost humor.  Behind him are Cammie’s dad and some other man I’ve forgotten the name of.

I turn my eyes back to Cammie, taking in her ruined hair, the running mascara, and her dress… oh my. Wearing no bra was definitely a bad fashion decision; getting that white material wet made the dress see-through. Whoops.

“Cammie! Oh my God! What happened to you?” I ask, doing my best to lace my voice with disbelief and shock. Gray coughs in the background and I refuse to look at him because he might see through me—you know, as easily as I can Cammie’s dress.

The girl really should invest in support bras.

“You know exactly what happened to me! You did this!”

“I did? I hardly think I can control the weather, Cammie. We should get you some towels or something to cover you up. I’m afraid you’re flashing the whole club, sweetheart.”

Behind me, Jason laughs as well as a few others. Damn, did I fail to keep my tone from being sarcastic there? Did I give myself away?

Gray takes off his jacket, which is really wet, and puts it over Cammie, hiding her ta-tas.

“Is my daughter right? Did you do this, Claudia?”

My head jerks around. God, how I hate this man and the fact that he thinks it’s okay to talk to me in that tone. I’m taken aback for a minute because honestly, David Riverton has not spoken to me in years. Years. But while I’m trying to form words and swallow down the bitterness I have where this man is concerned, Gray tries to defend me.

“Really, David, I doubt CC could turn the sprinklers on for the club. For one, she’s only visiting here. Do you really think she could even know where the controls to the lawn are?” Oh, look. He’s so cute defending me. It almost makes me feel guilty for trying to drown Cammie. Almost.

“Besides that,” Jason pipes up, “she’s been with me the entire time, and I can assure you that she didn’t have time to do anything other than make me a very happy man by agreeing to dance with me.” Aww, Jason! Covering for me even though he probably suspects that I did, in fact, turn on the sprinklers—which, by the way, unless someone finds the controls, have turned the green grass into grass with mini-rivers running through them. I look up at Jason and smile as he puts his arm around my shoulders in support. It kind of shocks me, but the small growl I hear from Gray shocks me more. I look at him and can clearly see jealousy shooting out of his eyes. Inside, the little girl in me is screaming: yes!

“You’ll have to wait for that dance. I need to go home and change, and since CC is with me, she’s going too,” Gray says, his voice hard.

“She can stay if she wants. I’ll be glad to escort her home. After all, if I had been her date, I wouldn’t have left her all alone in a room full of strangers,” Jason says. Yikes, what have I gotten myself into?

“I want you gone!” Cammie says like the spoiled child she still is.

“I don’t. Really, David, you need to control your daughter. Making these wild accusations against my friend and now demanding she leaves? It’s all very childish and unprofessional,” Jason says, and if I wasn’t afraid Gray would tear his head off his body, I just might kiss him right now.

“Yes, well…” Cammie’s father begins, looking very uncomfortable. Jason might not be on par with Riverton Metals, but his mother and father definitely are, and Jason isn’t exactly a slouch. Gray must get tired of all of this—especially Jason. He comes over and very securely pulls me into him and away from Jason. He locks his arm around me, keeping his hand on my hip. He’s warm and it feels good to be in his arms again, even if he is wet. How does a man get to be so bone-snuggling hot when he’s wet? That should be impossible, but Gray feels like a heater right now—my own private heater. Mine. One that Cammie can’t have. Who knew I could be territorial?

“I’ll be taking CC home, since she’s my date for the evening, but I think she’s at the very least owed an apology.”

Geez! Okay, this might be taking it too far.

“What?” Cammie shrieks again. Seriously, that woman’s voice. I’m surprised the windows didn’t shatter. “I most certainly will not apologize! I don’t know how, but I’m sure she did this!” Time to pack it up and go home. Not because I want to back down, but because I’m standing entirely too close to David Riverton and my knife is nowhere around with which I would geld him.

“I’m sorry you feel this way. I, however, am rather tired. I’ll just be going.”

“Lucas, in light of tonight, I think we should have a meeting about your future with Riverton Metals,” David says, playing his trump card.

Fear hits me and a shiver runs up my spine. I reacted from the gut. I didn’t mean to ruin Gray’s chances of getting the endorsement deal he’s been working for. Shit.

“Mr. Riverton,” I start to say.

“That will be fine, David. We’ll talk tomorrow before I head out of town.”

“You’re going out of town?” I ask at almost the same exact time Cammie does.

“I’m taking CC home to meet my family. We’ll be gone for a couple of weeks,” Gray says and my gasp competes with Cammie’s.

I’m still trying to form words when he escorts me out of the club from hell, leaving a drowned Cammie there with her mouth hanging open, an outraged David Riverton, and a smiling Jason. Gray takes me out to his car and I’m inside and buckled in before I even have time to go over the exchange that just happened.

“I can’t go home with you!” I finally tell him, finding my voice once we’re a couple miles down the road. “I have a job!”

“Jackson can do it while we’re gone. You owe me for the shit you put me through tonight and for probably costing me the Riverton contract,” he grumbles.

“Gray,” I start, already feeling guilty.

“Just save it until we get home. Once we get there, you can explain what you were doing letting another man paw you in front of everyone.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

He slams on his brakes, guiding the car to the side of the road. Thank God I’m wearing a seatbelt or else I’d be thrust through the windshield.

“I’m talking about the fact that you just sent me on my way and agreed with those assholes that I could leave you behind, and then I come back to find you hanging all over another man!”

“Oh good God! You cannot be serious! Jason is a friend! And I encouraged you to go talk business so we could get the damn party over and I could go home. I told you I didn’t want to go in the first place!”

“A pretty freaking chummy friend, if you ask me!”

“Did you seriously just say chummy?”

“Can it, Cooper. I’m not in the mood for your mouth unless it’s on my cock.”

“Well, if you quit being an ass, that could be arranged,” I huff out before I realize what I’m saying. His eyes narrow and he looks at me. Then, he reaches down and scoots his seat back all the way and reclines it until the head of the seat is practically laying on the back seat. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you to put your money where your mouth is,” he says, folding his arms.

“Gray… I…”

“Chickening out, Cooper? I expected more from you.”

“We’re on the side of a road!”

“It’s a back road, but if you’re too scared to live a little…”

“I didn’t say that,” I tell him, watching as he unzips his pants. This should be the last thing I do. We need to talk about Gray going out of town, about how he expects me to just pack up and go with him. But as I watch the way his large hand wraps around his even larger cock and stroke it slowly, I know that any discussion we might have has been tabled—at least until we apparently have sex on the side of the road, because if I’m going to give him his, you better believe I’m getting mine, too.

I may be unreasonable here, who the fuck knows. What I do know is that I do not like seeing CC with another man near her. The fact that the man had his hands on her and was getting ready to dance with her pisses me off even more. I have this need inside of me to make sure she knows who the fuck she is with. I also have a need to unload inside of her, which is completely stupid and not going to happen. I will not have a kid. I shove that thought away even as a vision of CC, her stomach round with my child, comes to mind.

“I can’t believe you,” she huffs, but she’s not fooling me. I see the flare of excitement in her eyes. She wants this as much as I do.

“Stop talking,” I tell her, stroking my cock. “There’s other things you can do with your mouth.”

“So romantic.”

“Keep talking and in a few minutes it won’t matter anymore.”

“Minute man?”

“I think I’ve proven how false that is, but for some strange fucking reason, I have the need to come all over that smart little mouth of yours and remind you who you belong to.”

“Belong to?” she echoes.

Shit. I know I’ve said too much, but it’s too late to take it back now.

“My mom always had a saying,” I tell her, watching as she undoes her seatbelt and moves closer to me.

“I can’t believe you’re insisting on talking about your mother while you’re giving yourself a hand job. You’re seriously twisted, Grayson Lucas.”

“She always said you never forget to ride home on the horse that brought you to the dance.”

She stops just as she’s leaning down to my dick. She sits straight up. All at once, a beautiful smile slides onto her face, one so deep that her eyes sparkle. If I was the kind of man who was easily affected by such things, I’d say she could take my breath away in this moment. Then she reaches under her dress, shifting and moving around. At first I’m not sure what she’s doing, but when she comes out with a pair of black silk panties in her hand, I understand. I snatch them and watch her as she maneuvers herself to straddle my lap.

“I’d say that’s a good saying. Especially since you’re acting like a horse’s ass,” she whispers, but I don’t give a fuck what she’s saying at this point. I’ve moved my hands to her hips as she wiggles and settles down on me. My cock slides in between the lips of her pussy. The tip pushes against her and slides up so that it rests pressed against me and her warm, wet, cunt.

“You’re wet,” I whisper, surprised and thankful as fuck. She rotates her hips, sliding those sweet pussy lips against my cock, then grinds against me. It’s all I can do to stop myself from grabbing her and holding her still so I can slam inside.

“I seem to stay that way when you’re around, Gray,” she whispers.

It’s a simple statement and it’s not meant to do anything more than just express the truth, but it grabs hold of me. It burrows deep inside of me and some of the jealousy from earlier disappears, but at the same time, it makes me want to mark her deeper. I want to reach so deep inside of her that no matter where she goes, or what she does, she feels me… she needs me.

She lifts up at the same time her hand wraps around my cock, squeezing it. She positions me at her entrance and I know in a matter of seconds that I’m going to be deep inside of her. I look at her… really look at her. Her eyes drugged with need, her lips wet and glossy, her face flushed, I listen to her breaths as they come in small gasps.

“What are you doing, Cooper?” I ask, truthfully wondering how someone so beautiful could be here with me.

“Riding the horse that brought me to the dance,” she answers with a smile right before she slides down on my cock. I groan as my dick pushes into her, the walls of her pussy holding me tightly, branding my dick with the heat of her. It’s never been better. Never. Out of all of the women I‘ve been with, they pale in comparison to CC. She’s it. Fuck! She’s it. “And I plan on riding him all the way home,” she exhales as she grinds down against me, using my cock to scrape against her and stretch her pussy to accommodate me.

It’s a hell of a place to realize it. But right here on the side of the road, with a car going by here and there, my emergency flashers on, and the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met in my life sliding up and down on my cock, I can’t deny it.

I am falling in love with Claudia Cooper.

“Are you ready?” Gray asks, coming through the front door and acting like he’s going to fight a fire, he’s in such a rush.

“Ready for what?”

“I told you I was leaving for mom’s today for a couple of weeks.”

“I know.”

“So are you ready to roll?”

“Umm… Gray, I told you. I’m not going.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to.”

“C…”

“I like you, Gray. I like you a lot. I’m even getting used to the fact that you whack innocent balls for a living.”

“I don’t think that’s the way to put it.”

I smile at him, knowing that would aggravate him. “The truth is, I have a job, a demanding job, and Jackson and I have three engine rebuilds to do this week. I just can’t leave right now. I have to work to keep my deadlines.”

“I want you with me,” he says.

He will never know how much I want to throw caution to the wind and agree. I can’t, though, and the fact that I’m using the garage as a reason feels wrong. The real reason is that I’m afraid. We haven’t really discussed how the dance went down two days ago. I feel like it was proof that I’m not in the same circles as Gray. It’s also proof that I’m not sure I ever want to be.

“Jackson can keep your deadlines. It’s just a couple weeks, C. We can make it one if that helps,” I’m willing to work with you.

“You see, this is just proof of how different we are. I don’t have a bank account, Gray. All I have is my business. I can’t ignore it for some man and go traipsing across the…”

“Some man?” he asks, and even I wince. I didn’t mean it like that at all. Or, hell, maybe I did. I need him to give up on me because I’m not sure I’m strong enough to give up on my own.

“You know what I mean,” I try to defend.

“No, Cooper. I don’t know what you mean. Why don’t you enlighten me?”

“I don’t want to do this,” I mutter, unable to look at him. I move to go around him and put my coffee mug in the sink. It’s early, but I’ll just head out and get to work. And pretend my world doesn’t feel like it’s crashing around me.

“Do what, exactly? Fight? Meet my family? Be with me?”

“I think it’s pretty clear, Gray, that we just don’t mesh.”

“The fuck we don’t. I think if anything, we have proven over and over that we mesh fucking phenomenally.”

“Everything doesn’t boil down to sex!” I growl at him as I try to leave, but he grabs a hold of my arm and pulls me back around to him.

“What is this about? Is it about the dance? Because you never said anything and I thought we had a pretty good bout of make-up sex afterwards.”

“Make-up? That wasn’t make-up sex, you moron.”

“What the hell was it then?”

“Lust! That’s all we have. We scratch each other’s itches, but we’re toxic to each other.”

“Whoa! Hold the hell up here. I thought what we’ve been sharing has been pretty damn good. How in the hell did we go from having fun and enjoying each other to being toxic?”

“We run in different circles!”

“Whatever, Cooper. You’re going to have to come up with one better than that.”

“How about the fact that you keep dragging me around people who hate me? People I hate? People who did their best to destroy me years ago? I don’t want to be in that circle again for any reason, Gray!” I yell, close to breaking down and telling him exactly what he’s asking of me. “Not even for you.” I whisper that last part, the part that hurts the most. I’m weak and I know it, but I can’t handle being around the Rivertons or anyone in their circle. My sense of self-preservation tells me I can’t… even for Gray.

“I see.”

“I like you, Gray, I really do. But…”

“But?”

“We’re just too different.”

“I don’t think we are at all. I think if you took the time to go meet my family, you’d see that, CC. I think that if you cared even a little bit about me, you’d at least fucking try,” he growls, and this time it’s he who turns away. Funny how that seems to be the last thing I want after this conversation.

“I do care about you,” I argue and mean it. I think part of me is already in love with him. Or at least I think that’s what it is. I’ve never really seen or had that in my life enough to recognize it.

“Then prove it.”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” he challenges.

That’s when I see it: the hurt in his eyes, the hurt I put there. The weight of that crushes down on me and I almost feel like I’m suffocating.

“It’s the same thing!” I lash out in regret, needing to get away because suddenly I can’t breathe.

“I never figured you for a woman without a backbone, Claudia Cooper. It’s good I found it out now, I guess. Maybe I’ll see you around,” Gray says, and those words combined with the tone of his voice make me jerk my head up to look at him.

“Gray, it doesn’t have to be this way. We can keep having fun. We can—”

“What? Keep fucking? Oddly enough, Cooper, I don’t want that from you. For the first time in my life, I can honestly say that’s not even close to what I want,” he says disgustedly.

He looks like a stranger. He barely spares me a glance before he turns around and walks out the door. I’m left standing there wondering how we got here. In the last two days, he’s joked about me meeting his family, and yeah he told me that he had made all the reservations to leave today, but I never realized he was completely serious about taking me with him. Other than mentioning it to Cammie and her father, he’s never once asked me. And now… we’ve gone from laughing and playing, making love every night to… this.

I head out the door and go to my car. I start it up and, on autopilot, I head to the garage. I don’t want to think about it anymore because this feels like I just broke up with Gray Lucas. I’m not ready to face that just yet. I may never be.

Three Days Later

“Grayson Lucas, you’ve been moping around here since you got back. What the hell is going on with you?”

My mother’s tone is one I’ve learned I shouldn’t ignore. It means she’s getting desperate, and when Ida Sue “Love” Lucas gets desperate, chaos ensues. Still, I can’t seem to drum up enough energy to care. Everything just seems… flat, lifeless, and colorless since I left CC’s home three days ago. God, I miss her. Me, missing a woman? It would be the world’s biggest joke except there’s nothing funny about how I’m feeling. There’s nothing to find humor in when I picture the rest of my life without CC in it. The woman has ruined me.

“Answer your mother when she speaks to you,” Cyan says, slapping me up the side of my head.

“Thank you, baby.”

“Anytime, Mama,” Cyan answers, dodging my halfhearted attempt to swat him back.

“Asshole,” I mutter, partly because he’s annoying me, but mostly because he’s the biggest mama’s boy on the face of the planet.

“Grayson Lucas, you stop that or I’ll wash your mouth out with soap.”

I roll my eyes, though I do it where I’m sure Mom can’t see me. The truth is, she says worse than us boys ever thought of—and that’s saying a lot. She however, can’t stand it for her kids to say the same words in front of her.

“Yes, Mama,” I answer, looking out over the yard in front of the large farmhouse I was raised in. It’s a large three-story home which has been completely updated, much to Mother’s dismay. The boys and I got together while Mom was on vacation and completely renovated the place, giving her all the latest appliances and conveniences. Most mothers would have loved it; ours complained we ruined the charm of the place, though I notice she doesn’t complain that the washroom is now downstairs with her bedroom and large master bath.

There’s a large wraparound porch that completely encircles the home—a fact my nephews, when they’re around love and make complete use of. It’s white with red trim and has a bright red tin roof. The yard is encased with matching red trim and it’s quite beautiful when you pull up and see it, but that’s not why I love this place and always will; it’s the memories. Even when we didn’t have two nickels to rub together, this place was the most magical place on Earth. No matter what has happened in my life, being home always had a way of healing me and making things better.

That is, until CC.

“Is Grayson still being moony-eyed over that woman?” Blackie asks.

“Seems so. I don’t get it. I haven’t seen a flitter worth that,” Maggie says.

“Magnolia Marie! You did not just say that!” Mama yells.

“Sorry, Mama. Terry has taken to using the word and it just slipped out.”

“You ruined that boy, naming him Terry. You should have kept the family tradition.”

“You mean naming him after where he was created? No, thank you. I don’t need a son named Subaru.”

“Yeah, cause we all know the story of how Maggie whoopty-do’ed in her Subaru and Nine months later…”

Maggie elbows Cyan with a huff. “That wasn’t funny the first five-thousand times and it’s even less funny now that Terry is three years old, dumbass.”

“Ouch! Stop, that hurts! Mama, Maggie called me a name.”

“That’s because you are being a dumbass. I don’t need no grandchild named Subaru. Though you could have named him Cross, dear.”

I smile. It’s an old argument. Maggie was caught in the back of an old Subaru with Bryant Matthews out on Old Cross Road.

“You really need to make an honest man of that boy,” Mama chides her.

“Like you have Janson?” Maggie comes back.

Janson is the foreman of the ranch and the unofficial boyfriend of my mother. Mom had her oldest child when she was barely seventeen, which means she will be turning fifty-four in just a week. All of us like Janson and would love to welcome him completely in the family, but he won’t even move into the house with Mom. For some reason, neither one of them want a traditional relationship of living under one roof. Weird, considering they’ve been together and exclusive for the last eight years.

“Pffft…” Mom waves her off. “At our age,” she says, like they’re eighty, “we’re just celebrating the miracle that we’re both still even interested.”

“There sure is a lot of celebrating going on around here, specifically in the kitchen,” Cyan says, and from the look on his face, I don’t even want to know what he saw.

“Praise Jesus,” Mom says.

I take a drink of my beer to keep from laughing out loud. I manage to hide my smile around the rim of the can; Mom doesn’t need any encouragement.

“Lovey, that damn cow got out again,” Janson growls, sliding onto the edge of the porch, sitting down, and letting his legs hang over the side. He spits out his tobacco and Cyan hands him a beer.

“He just wants his freedom, Jan,” Mom defends.

“If he don’t stop breaking my fence, I’ll give him his freedom. I’ll make sure he gets his ticket to the green pastures in the sky,” Jan grumbles. Mom ignores him, probably because she knows it’s the same empty threat he always gives. Instead, she focuses on the one thing about Janson that she absolutely does not like.

“I thought I told you that if you didn’t give up chewing, Janson Reed, there would be no more celebrating between us?” she grumbles, hitting his back with a fly swatter.

“You did, but I had a talk with the good Lord about it,” Janson says, looking over his shoulder at her. “He said He’d allow the vice, if I celebrated and praised Him harder. So we’re working it out.”

“I call bullshit,” she says, but she’s smiling.

“I’ll show you later,” he promises with a wink.

“I don’t know what’s sadder,” Cyan says.

“What’s that?” Janson asks.

“The fact that my mom gets more action than I do, or the fact that hearing about it is the highlight of my week.”

“Probably both, son,” Janson says.

“Enough about this topic, please? It’s almost dinner time and I need my appetite. Besides, I want to hear about Gray and his new woman.”

“Nothing to tell, Mags,” I grunt, cutting her off.

“Life is short, son. Don’t waste it pissing in the wind. One day, you’ll wake up all alone and stinking to high heaven with nothing but a basket of laundry.”

“That’s deep, Mom,” Cyan says with a laugh.

“Thank you, sweetie.”

“Well, if she’s anything like Grayson’s usual women, she’s an airhead,” Maggie says.

“Yeah, we’ll probably see more of her than we want in the tabloids soon enough,” Cyan agrees.

“She’s not like anyone else,” I growl.

“Do tell, brother.” This comes from White as he comes outside. The screen door squeaks in protest. He leans up against the porch post and looks at me. Shit.

“Mind your own business,” I growl.

White is my oldest brother and he’s a self-declared permanent bachelor, which is a shame because his best friend is a woman named Kayla—a damn good woman, at that. Plus, everyone knows she’s completely in love with White. Well, everyone but him. He doesn’t give a fuck about anything other than the next bull he’s going to ride. He’s on track to be the world’s champion.

Mom jokes she has a child in every profession and she’s not far from the truth. Bull riding, golf, baseball, fireman, cop, and rancher. Then there’s Cyan. Cyan tells everyone he’s still finding himself, but the truth is that he finds himself at the tables gambling most of the time. That’s just my brothers. My sisters are just as diverse, from a novelist to Maggie, who’s the principal at a local elementary school.

“Come on, Gray, give it up,” Maggie says.

I take a deep breath. “Fine. Cooper is smart, funny, beautiful… caring. She’s—”

“What kind of name is Cooper?”

“Cooper?” Cyan interrupts.

“Her name is Claudia Cooper. Everyone calls her CC.”

“Dude, that’s a rough ass name for a girl,” Cyan says.

“Oh please, like any of us could talk,” Maggie says. “Hello? Magnolia tree, front and center here.”

“It was a hell of a Magnolia tree,” Mom says. Maggie holds her head down.

We all laugh, even me, and I don’t really feel like it, especially since talking about CC reminds me of everything I’ve lost.

“If she’s so wonderful, what the fuck are you doing here without her?”

“White Hall Lucas, watch your mouth!”

“Yes, Mom,” he sighs.

“I still want to see the woman who has one of my brothers all twisted up,” Maggie says. I flip her off without letting mom see me.

“We may not have to wait long, dear,” Mom says.

“Why’s that?” Cyan asks, and I just listen to them chatter while I open my second beer. I wonder how long it would take me to get drunk on drinking nothing but beer.

“Because, unless I miss my guess, the woman in question is getting out of that taxi at the end of our drive,” Mom says.

My heart speeds up at her words and joy spreads through me. CC must have changed her mind! I’ll make sure I reward her later tonight.

“Fuck!” I growl.

“What? What’s wrong?” Mom asks, and she must know something is way off from my tone, because for once she doesn’t bitch at me for my cursing.

“That’s not CC. That’s David Riverton and his daughter Cammie,” I growl.

“Oh, shit,” Maggie whispers while everyone else goes quiet. I hold my head down, wondering how the fuck life got so complicated.

“Okay, so hit me,” Mer says, staring at me from across the table. If she only knew how inviting that was right now, she wouldn’t tempt me. It’s been five days since Gray left to visit his family in Texas. Five days and I haven’t seen nor heard from him. I mean, I guess we broke up, so I understand it, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought he might try to contact me. I thought I’d get the chance to… maybe rethink things? Get a do-over? Hell, I don’t know. Truthfully, I didn’t think much past hearing from Gray again. “Earth to C. You get about five minutes to start talking,” Mer adds.

“And you’ll what?”

“I’ll throw such a fit they will kick us out of here.”

“That’s not much of a threat, woman,” I grumble. We’re at the new bar that just opened downtown called Drink. It’s a small hole in the wall filled with, from what I can tell, college-aged kids and rich snobs who never had a hard time in their life, unless you include chipping a nail or their daddy freezing their trust fund for a few days.

“I thought we both could use a change of pace,” she defends, but she doesn’t look exactly happy to be here either. “But you’re right, it blows. Which is why you have to tell me about Gray!”

“I told you, there’s not much to tell,” I all but growl, shifting in my seat.

“Oh, please. Last week you couldn’t stop talking about him. All I heard was Gray this and Gray that. Today it’s over, end of discussion. I’m getting whiplash from the change.”

“He went back to Texas to visit his family.” I shrug, staring at my drink and wishing I could just go home, curl up on the couch like I have for the last five days, and sleep until I have to get up in the morning.

“So? That does not constitute a breakup. I swear, C, if you kicked him to the curb just because his vine wasn’t going to be around to swing through the jungle on, I may kill you myself.”

I roll my eyes at her. I decide to talk with her, knowing that if I don’t, this is just going to go on all night, and I really need to talk about something else if I’m going to survive tonight.

“Our last date, he took me to a dance.”

“So? You love dancing!”

“A society formal at the Riverton’s Country Club.”

“Oh, shit.”

“He was very sweet. Even picked out my dress.”

“Okay. So far, I’m seeing no reason to cut the man loose. I mean…”

“It was this beautiful silk and lace, deep red,” I interrupt her, “that probably cost a fortune.”

“Again, C, not making a connection.”

“It was a black and white formal.”

“Oh hell.”

“Yeah, that’s not his fault. I have a very good hunch that it was all Cammie’s fault he picked out a red dress.”

“What? I mean, why would he…”

“He went to the one shop in Addington to buy formal gear. You know, the one where Cammie’s best friend Eliza works.”

“Holy fuck-nuggets Batman.”

“Pretty much.”

“Someone needs to bitch slap that cunt-a-saurus for freaking days.”

I think about the sprinklers and start to tell Mer, but I just don’t want to get into it right now. As much as I hate Cammie, she’s not my problem. I have this sneaking suspicion that it’s me that is the problem right now. I let my doubts push Gray away, and the truth is… I miss him.

“I miss him,” I whisper out loud.

“Oh, honey,” Mer says.

“I got scared, Mer. I like him. I really like him.”

“C…”

“Like, really, really liked him,” I stress.

“So tell him that.”

“He’s gone.”

“He’s in Texas. Not some third world country. Text him.”

“But we broke up,” I sigh. “Jesus, I feel like I’m back in high school worrying over Clinton Sparks.”

“He was an asshole.”

“Maybe Gray is,” I argue.

“I never thought I’d see the day that Claudia Cooper was afraid to live her life.”

“You take that back!”

“Nope. Not going to happen.”

“You’re such a bitch.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Now find your lady balls and text your man.”

I sigh, looking at my phone. “I could just text him to see what he’s doing,” I reason, nerves filling my system.

“My freaking Lord, C, you are jinxed.”

“What?” I ask, jerking up.

“Cammie and her Witches of Crossville crew just came in. You’re jinxed.”

“Or maybe my best friend just picked a particularly horrible place to meet,” I grumble, because really, this place is just the kind of people Cammie would hang around.

“Point made. Jesus, they’re going to sit right behind us. Try not to move. If I have to talk to her, I may projectile vomit,” Mer says, and I agree with her. So for the next five minutes, other than making weird faces at each other, we say nothing. Mer makes silly faces imitating Cammie, and I might giggle a time or two, but we remain mostly silent.

Until the topic of conversation changes. “Cammie, where have you been? I was going to tell you about the new shipment of dresses we got in from Paris last week. They are to die for!”

“Father and I just got back from Texas,” she says, her voice hitting on every nerve ending I have. Mer mouths the word “Texas” and I stare at her, my fists clenching. It really pisses me off that Gray does business with these people, even if I don’t have a say so in it.

“What on Earth were you doing in Texas? It’s so hot this time of year,” one of the girls says.

“My fiancé is there. He wanted me to meet his family.”

My blood runs cold at her words. Her fiancé? Meet the family?

“You got engaged to Grayson Lucas and didn’t tell us? I thought he was dating that mechanic,” another girl says, and she says the word “mechanic” like it’s dirt beneath her fingernails.

“Oh pu-leeze! He was just sewing his oats before he settles down. All men do it, but a man like Grayson realizes what kind of woman he needs in his life. We’ll make a great partnership. He said so himself.”

“He did?” another asks while Mer reaches across the table and squeezes my hand in support.

“He did. Why, before I left, he said I was perfect and then he kissed me and, let me tell you ladies, Grayson Lucas can definitely kiss.”

I want to go off. I’m so close to the edge, it’s ridiculous. He wanted Cammie to meet his family? He said she was perfect? Who the fuck does he think he is? Was he just playing me for the fool, or because I didn’t jump onboard with his plans he replaced me that quickly?

I get up and stomp out. I don’t care if Cammie sees me or not. I’m so mad. I’d like to punch Grayson Lucas in his big, fat nose.

“C? What are you thinking? You know Cammie. She’s probably exaggerating and you can’t put a lot of stock into…” I ignore her, walking straight to my car. “C!” she yells, and I finally stop and spin around to face her. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to Texas and punching Gray Lucas in his pretty boy face.”

“Oh. Well, yes! Definitely do that! Heck, if I could get off work, I’d go with you! You should go do it right now! Don’t let him get away with it a minute longer.”

She’s entirely too gleeful over this shit for my liking, but she’s right. I’m going to confront the bastard and make him sorry he thought it was okay to play me.

Cammie’s fiancé! That lying snake.

“It’s a good thing you went into golfing because your fencing sucks,” Blue grumbles, wiping the sweat out of his eyes with a rag he’s stored in the back pocket of his jeans.

“Bite me,” I grumble, holding my thumb which I just slammed with a hammer moments before. My mind isn’t on what I’m doing. Hell, my mind hasn’t been on anything but CC for way too long. She’s a fever in my blood and she’s infected my system completely. Everything reminds me of her. The color of the sunset reminds me of her hair. The leaves on mom’s roses reminds me of her eyes. Hell, the other day I was eating a peach and the taste of it even reminded me of her. God! What the fuck am I going to do? I need to get her out of my head, and soon. I can’t go on like this. That much is for sure.

My cellphone rings and I pick it up expecting to see Cammie’s number. She’s been calling nonstop. It took me two days to get rid of her and her father when they came down here. I still haven’t figured out their exact reason for coming here other than Riverton said he was in the area for other business and thought he’d check in on me. Mostly, I think they came in to look down on everything. Mom hated Cammie and Maggie wasn’t far behind her. There were a few times I thought we were going to have an old-fashioned cat fight and my money would have been on my mom. It doesn’t even matter how old she is. If Mom had went at her, Cammie would have never known what hit her.

The number showing up on my phone, however, isn’t Cammie’s; it’s Seth’s. I know what he’s calling about and I’ve been dreading this conversation. “I have to take this,” I tell Blue, and he rolls his eyes at me. Then again, he thinks all cell phones are evil.

“Hey, Seth.”

“Don’t you ‘Hey, Seth’ me. Did you tell Riverton you didn’t want his sponsorship?”

“Seth…”

“You needed Riverton to grease the wheels here, Grayson! What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that he and his daughter showing up at my mother’s house unannounced and talking down about everything and everyone here was just too fucking much to deal with. So, I told him he could either sponsor me or not. Besides, her father seems to think because I have a big bank account, I’m great boyfriend material. At this point, the farther I’m away from David Riverton and his whack-o daughter, the better.”

“Kind of a ballsy move for a fucker who’s been literally blackballed.”

“Whatever.”

“He especially liked the part where you called his daughter a perfect bitch.”

“Hey, what can I say? I have a way with words.”

“Riverton asked me to inform you that he got a job offer.”

“So? What the fuck do I care?”

“He’s been promoted to overseer of the championship tour.”

“Motherfucker!”

“If you’re going to piss off the big dogs, you better expect to have shit thrown at you, Lucas.”

“Whatever. Good luck trying to keep me out. All those fuckers can kiss my ass. I came in fifty-one overall the first part of this season and that was with being off for the last two weeks. They can block me. So I have to putt from every shit-hole coming or going, it doesn’t matter. I will survive and advance and flip them off while I do it,” I growl, fed up with the whole fucking thing.

“Finally, my brother has found his dick,” Blue mutters in the background.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Grayson, I really do. You’re headed to Nebraska next week.”

“The landfill,” I groan, referring to a golf course that actually was a garbage landfill at one time. It’s a little hole-in-the-wall town that created the golf course to try and get tourism started and save the town’s economy. There’s one fast food restaurant and two hotels, and those are mom-and-pop owned. I hate the place. I have golfed there before when I was earning my stripes. What-the-fuck-ever. It’s tournament time and it’s time to prove to all of them that I have what it takes to do nothing but win. Maybe Nebraska is exactly what I need to get over Claudia Cooper.

Even as I say it, I know the hope for that is slim to none.

Adrenaline and anger kept me going for the first half of the trip. The second half of the trip was motivated by constant phone conversations with Mer and memories of Cammie calling Gray her fiancé. Now that I’m riding in a taxi to Gray’s mom’s house, there’s nothing to keep me from running. That fact just gets clearer when the cabbie tells me that he won’t drive me up the driveway, but instead stops the car at the end of the main road. When I ask him why, he gives me some kind of vague explanation about a crazy woman shooting at his car because the yellow color scared her pet cow. If I wasn’t so nervous and busy second-guessing myself, I would have demanded more of the story.

“Fine, but stay here and wait for me. This won’t take long.”

“Lady, that woman is nuts. I’m not waiting around for her to fill my car full of buckshot,” the cabbie argues.

“Fifteen minutes. You can wait that long, right? I’ll pay you double,” I bargain, wondering if I shouldn’t just turn around. What is really the point of all of this?

“Ten minutes, tops. And I want to be paid first.”

“No way. I pay you and you’ll leave the minute I get out of this car.”

“Lady, I want my money.”

“What if I pay you half now, and then I’ll pay…”

“What is going on in here? You just going to sit at the end of my driveway all damn day? You’re about to give my baby a heart attack.”

I look up and there’s a lady with my car door open. She’s beautiful. She looks around forty, forty-five. She has soft brown hair that falls around her face in a shaggy bob, and she has green eyes that look just like Gray’s. This woman has to be Grayson’s mother. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to meet her. I’m confused, wondering why I’m giving her a heart attack until I realize she’s looking at the driver.

“I’m leaving, Ida Sue. I’m just trying to get this woman out of my cab.”

“You can’t leave! I need you wait until I do what I came here to do!” I plead.

“What is it you came here to do?” Gray’s mom asks.

I feel my stomach knot up. “I need to talk to Grayson.”

“And why’s that?”

“That’s something I really should discuss with Grayson alone,” I tell her, even though I immediately want to apologize for being snippy.

“You’re Claudia,” she says, appraising me, and I do my best not to squirm.

“CC,” I correct her.

“You definitely have more meat on you than that other girl.”

“Did you just call me fat?” She doesn’t answer. She grabs the overnight bag beside me and drags it toward her. I grab it to stop her and she looks at me.

“You don’t want to get out without your stuff? Heaven knows what this idiot would do with it.”

“Listen, Ida Sue…” the cabbie starts.

“I’m not staying,” I argue with her.

“Then don’t.” She shrugs. “But you came a long way to chicken out.”

“I’m not chickening out,” I totally lie.

“So you were just… what? Shooting the breeze in the cab? We eat dinner in an hour and I’ve got a roast that needs my attention, so are you getting out, or staying in?”

“Lady!” The cabbie growls, but I ignore him. Instead, I’m looking at the challenge shining in Grayson’s mom’s eyes. I toss money at the cabbie, secretly enjoying how the money falls apart and scatters over the front of the seat. He’s annoying. Then, I give up my overnight bag to Grayson’s mom and, once she’s standing outside, I slide out and follow her. We don’t talk as we walk up the driveway and I feel weird. I feel like I should come up with something to say, but for the life of me I can’t think of anything. Instead, I take in the large white farmhouse, the chickens running free, the three cats lying lazily on the front porch. It’s all completely different from anything I could have pictured Grayson growing up in, even after all his tales about his family. The strangest thing is watching a baby cow waddle over to the woman and wait for her to pet him. Wow.

“Did you really name your sons after crayons?” I blurt out.

The woman turns around to look at me with a half-smile. “The world needs bright colors to make it more interesting,” she reasons, and I can’t really argue, even though it seems like the answer has nothing to do with my question.

“And apparently flowers,” I mumble, annoyed when she shakes her head and turns away from me.

She looks over her shoulder. “You’re a spicy little thing, aren’t you?” she says, laughing. “I think I’ll like you just fine for my boy.”

“I’m not with your boy.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I’m here to give him a piece of my mind.”

“If you must, dear, but I think Gray would rather have a piece of something else from you.”

I can feel my face flame at her words because the first thing that comes to mind is a picture of Gray’s body naked and lying on my bed asking me to—I stop the thought by clearing my throat.

“Whatever. I’m telling him off and then I’m going back home to Kentucky and that’s that.”

“A fine plan, dear.”

“Uh, thanks.”

“I only have one question,” she asks as she throws a stick out for the baby cow. I watch as he goes lumbering after it and doesn’t stop until he reaches it and puts it back in his mouth. Did I just watch a cow play fetch?

“What’s that?” I ask, momentarily distracted.

“Why did you have to come all the way here to give him a piece of your mind? You could have done that on the telephone, surely.”

“Well, I wanted to see his face when I told him exactly what I thought about him,” I grumble, and then realizing that I’m talking about her son, I decide to try and soften my response. “No offense.”

“None taken, dear. Gray is as stubborn as a horse’s ass. It’s good to see he’s picked a woman who matches him.”

I’m inside following her to the kitchen before it hits me that Gray’s mom just threw shade at me. Somehow, I get the feeling the woman is a master at putting people in their place. I almost… like her.

“I love your kitchen, Ida Sue,” I say lamely. I even like her. In fact, so far, I like everything about this place, and somehow that makes me feel horrible. I needed more reasons not to like Grayson. His family, as crazy as they are, have nothing to do with Grayson himself. The kitchen looks like the kitchen that used to be on television for that old TV show about the family with a huge amount of kids that lived in the mountains of Virginia. I can’t remember the name now, but I remember grinning at the end when all the kids were telling each other goodnight and wishing I had a big family. Grayson can’t realize how blessed he is.

“Thanks, dear. The kids about ruined it when they remodeled, but at least they kept my kitchen table,” she says. I have no idea what she’s talking about; the room is a work of art. If this is almost ruining it, I wish someone would do it to my whole house. Plus, her kitchen table, as she calls it, looks like an outdoor picnic table covered in a large white table cloth. It has bench seating only and could probably hold an entire football team.

“I have the tomatoes sliced. I hate to be a bother, but I really need to go find Grayson so I can head back home,” I tell her, putting my knife down. In answer, she puts cucumbers down in front of me.

“These too, sweetie. Besides, Grayson’s out on the range with Blue. It will be much easier if you catch him here at supper time. Otherwise, you could be looking until dark out there in the pasture and never find him.”

“They don’t tell you where they’re working? That seems like it wouldn’t be safe. What if one of them got hurt or something?” I mumble, working with the cucumbers and wondering why things aren’t working out the way I had them planned out in my head. I’m thinking the one answer to that is Ida Sue.

“Men. Who can keep up with them?” Ida Sue says just as the back door opens up. I tense, half-hoping and half-dreading to see Gray walk through the door. It’s not, however. There’s an older man in a black cowboy hat, jeans, and a faded button-up shirt with sandy-blonde hair that has some gray mixed in. Following him is a tall man dressed much the same, but he has shaggy hair, no hat, a faded blue shirt that’s more unbuttoned than buttoned, and he looks like walking sex. He has this rumpled look about him that says he just crawled out of bed, or maybe it’s just the way those smoky brown eyes look that makes you wish he just crawled out of your bed.

“Damn, Mom, something sure smells good in here,” the man says, going to the stove where Ida Sue is standing. He grabs one of the rolls she’s putting in a bowl and takes a bite. My eyes are glued to him because he might be the prettiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Jesus, if all of Ida Sue’s kids look like Gray and this guy, then the woman should have never stopped. In fact, the country should pay her to continue to reproduce because good golly, Miss Molly, I had no idea they even made men like this. I sure haven’t seen them in Kentucky before.

“White Hall, I told you if you didn’t stop your cursing I’m going to wash your mouth out with soap. Show some respect. Grayson’s lady friend is here visiting us.”

White Hall. Definitely a brother, though Grayson left out his middle name. I’m almost scared to ask where the Hall comes from, but considering the story about Magnolia, I have a pretty good idea. White turns around to look at me and those smoky eyes travel up and down my body, and in a way I just know he’s not missing anything. Heck, I’m hung up on his brother and still I can feel myself getting warm and tingly. This guy must break women’s hearts far and wide.

“I definitely like this one better than the last one. What’s your name, sweet thing?” he asks, and I almost want to roll my eyes. Did all the boys learn how to pick up a woman the same way? Gray’s “sweet lips” were more interesting.

“I’m CC,” I answer, laughing.

“I’m in love,” White answers, sliding in beside me and sitting so close I have to move over to make room between us. I shouldn’t have bothered because he just crowds up against me again.

“Behave, White Hall. This here is Gray’s Claudia.”

Gray’s Claudia? What does that mean? I’d clear my throat to object, but I don’t get the chance.

“Me-maw! Me-maw!” A little white-blonde tornado comes in yelling wearing nothing but a smile. He’s running straight for Ida Sue who stops what she’s doing, bends down to meet him, and the biggest smile comes on her face. I’m struck again with how beautiful Grayson’s mom is. I’m starting to feel frumpy around these people. All those old body issues are coming back to haunt me.

“What did I tell you about wearing clothes, River?” she asks, and the name jars me so much that the knife slips and I cut myself.

“Shit!” I growl, holding my thumb out to inspect the damage.

“What did you do, sweet thing? Here, let old White have a look at it,” White says, taking the knife from me. He looks up and winks at me. “Experience has taught me to watch women with sharp objects. We’ll just put this down.”

“Experience has taught you that women learn your bullshit fast and you have to be careful,” a man says, coming through the front door. He’s got blonde hair much like the child and he’s also freaking sexy and he’s wearing a uniform; sheriff, to be exact. Yeah, I’m definitely feeling frumpy around here.

“Bite me, Luca,” White says.

“No, thanks. Haven’t had enough shots to protect me from all the diseases you’ve probably contracted over the years.”

“You staying for dinner, Luca?” Ida Sue asks, but she seems a little cold towards the new guy. I definitely detect a chill there.

“Here, sweet thing, you’re bleeding,” White says, then kisses my hand against the wound, which might be bleeding, but if it is, it’s not much. His mouth is warm and the female in me can appreciate the soft feel of his lips, but the guy himself, as cute as he is, is starting to annoy me. I try to pull my hand away but he’s not letting go easily.

“No, Ida Sue. Just bringing River and dropping him off. Petal said she was coming here for dinner to meet Grayson’s girlfriend,” I hear the other guy answer.

This place is chaos because I hear doors open in the background coming from the living room. A couple more people come in through the kitchen door at the same time while White still kisses my hand. The naked kid is asking Ida where Terry is.

But I’m frozen because I heard the sheriff’s words. I’ve been feeling out of my depth and not talking a lot, but before I can stop myself, my mouth picks now to finally work.

“Cammie’s coming here?” I squeak because I really can’t handle that.

“Who is Cammie?” the sheriff asks.

“I hope to fuck not,” the older man joins in.

Then, I hear the voice I’d been wanting to hear ever since I first stepped foot in this crazy house. “White, what the fuck are you doing with CC? Drop her hand right now!”

Gray’s voice rings louder than anyone else’s, and the room goes quiet. My eyes automatically go to him. How is it that the man is better looking now than he was just six days ago? That doesn’t seem fair.

“What? She was cut. I was just giving her first aid. She seems to be having a little trouble breathing now. I’m thinking a little mouth-to-mouth is in order,” White says, giving me a wink. I’d laugh if I wasn’t scared that Cammie was coming here. In all of my planning of how exactly I was going to tell Grayson off, the possibility of Cammie showing back up wasn’t in them.

“If you don’t get away from my woman, you’ll be sucking your dinner through a straw,” Grayson growls. My heart trips inside of my chest. His woman?

“Your woman? I don’t see how that can be since you’re engaged to Cammie!” I yell at him.

“Engaged to Cam—? What in the hell are you talking about? I wouldn’t be engaged to that snake if my life depended on it,” Gray growls back, walking towards me. He jerks White’s hands away from me. “Back the fuck off, White,” he growls quietly. White grins, but nods his head and looks back at me with a wink.

“We’ll catch up later, darlin’,” he says before getting up.

“Not if you want to keep your face as pretty as you think it is,” Gray growls. He’s towering over me and I feel at a disadvantage, so I stand up to face him. “Now what the hell are you talking about with Cammie? Have you lost your damn mind?”

“She seems to think you are engaged.”

“She what?” he yells, and the anger and surprise in his face makes me feel a little better. I shrug when he looks at me, expecting me to explain further. I’m suddenly not sure what I’m doing here. “I’m not engaged,” he grumbles, his hand coming up to touch my hair.

“She says you are,” I argue, jerking away.

“Woman, I just left your bed a week ago,” he argues, and he doesn’t say it quietly. My face heats as I hear the whispering and laughing around us.

“A week is a long time for a player,” I tell him stubbornly.

“Not the way you wring a man dry,” Gray says, and the laughing becomes almost as loud as the red on my face.

“Gray!” I snarl.

“Everyone out!” Gray yells. No one leaves. “You either leave or you’ll see me fucking my woman on the kitchen table.”

“If my child says that word one more time, I will cut your peter off so you can’t touch your woman again!” a girl’s voice yells from the door.

“I got a peter!” the blonde child yells. “It pees!” he yells, then proceeds to show everyone.

Let me tell you, nothing breaks the tension like having a child piss on the kitchen floor.

Nothing.

“What are you doing here, Cooper?” Gray asks me ten minutes later. It took him ten minutes to clear out the kitchen and make sure his nephew’s mess had been cleaned up. Speaking of which, he managed to pee on Gray’s boot. I like that kid; he’s got style.

“I came to tell you that you’re an asshole.”

“You traveled all the way from Kentucky to tell me I’m an asshole?”

“I was mad.”

“Because I’m supposedly engaged to Cammie Riverton?”

“She said you were,” I defend, resenting the way he’s starting to make me feel… stupid.

“She’s fucking nuts,” he growls. Well, I can’t argue with that.

“So you’re saying you didn’t ask her to marry you?”

“I don’t want to marry anyone!” he growls, and I ignore the fact that that feels like a slap in the face. I mean, I’m not looking for marriage either, right?

“Don’t scream at me!”

“Then start making sense!”

“You’re an asshole,” I tell him, then stick my tongue out for good measure.

“Don’t stick that tongue out at me unless you’re willing to use it.”

“In case you missed it, I’m rolling my eyes at you too.”

“Why are you really here, Cooper?”

I swallow, rubbing my arms nervously. “I got mad.”

“Why? You are the one who broke up with me.”

“I didn’t break up with you. I just didn’t want to meet your family!”

“What’s wrong with us?” I hear a woman ask.

“Yeah, we’re pretty damn good people,” White answers.

“White, watch that mouth of yours,” Ida Sue grumbles. From the sound of all their voices, you can tell they’re pushed up against the kitchen door, listening.

“You’re great! I just didn’t want to meet you! I wasn’t ready for that!”

“Why not?” Ida Sue asks.

“Mom,” Gray growls.

“It’s a legitimate question, Grayson,” she chides.

I hold my head down wondering what in the hell I’m doing. “Because,” I groan.

“That’s not a good reason, dear. Whenever my kids gave that kind of reasoning, it usually ended up with my spanking their asses,” Ida Sue says through the still-closed but useless door.

“Hey, that’s it, Gray. Spank her ass.”

“I’ve got to say, that helps iron out Ida when she gets a knot up her ass.”

“Eww. Damn it, Janson,” White growls.

“Spanking can help iron out difficulties,” Ida Sue says, and moans can be heard echoing for miles.

“Jesus. I belong to a nut-house,” Gray grumbles, grabbing my arm and pulling me outside. The kitchen door slams behind us and I can barely keep up as Gray pulls me towards an old painted red barn. I want to argue with him, but honestly I’d rather his family didn’t hear everything we say, so I go with him.

I just wish I knew what I could say to get out of this without looking like the jealous freak I am.

I pull CC into the barn with me and don’t stop until we’re in the far corner where the fresh hay has been piled up. I push her against the wall with my body and trap her there with my arms. I look down at her, pinning her with my eyes.

“Okay, Cooper. It’s just you and me now.” I watch the line of her throat as she swallows. God, everything about her is appealing. I want to move my tongue along the lines of her throat and taste her skin.

“Did you kiss Cammie?” she asks, and whatever I expected, for some reason that’s not it. Because I take too long to respond, she punches me in the stomach. “You fucking asshole!” She does her best to push me out of the way. When my woman gets mad, she packs a punch. I grab her fists and push them up against the wall. Her breath is coming in hard gasps and she’s pushing against my hold, but I don’t let her go.

“She kissed me!”

“Oh my God. You did not just say that to me!”

“Are you jealous? I swear, it was nothing!”

“Are you an idiot?”

“I’m serious. I didn’t expect it, and I did nothing to encourage it.”

“Fine! Then I’ll go out there and kiss White and we’ll be even!”

“I love my brother, but if you kiss him, I may have to kill him.”

“Are you jealous?” she throws back in my face, and I have to say I am.

“Damn straight. Now that I’ve had your lips, they’re mine.”

“Gray…”

“Now that I’ve had you, CC, you are mine. You need to understand that.”

I see the moment fear hits her face, and I know I’m pushing her way too hard, but I can’t seem to stop myself. The last thing I expected was to have her follow me here. Now that she’s here, I’m going to make damn sure she understands what her being here means.

“You broke up with me.”

“I left, but I was coming back, Cooper. You’re not getting away from me.”

“We were a one-night stand, Gray.”

“That’s just it, CC. We were. What we are now, what we could be, is so much more.”

“Gray, I don’t do relationships real well.”

“Do you want what we have to end, sweetheart?”

“No…”

“Then take a chance. I don’t do relationships either, but I do not want to let go of what we have here.”

“We’re completely different,” she says, but I see a little of the fear on her face fade and I know I’m starting to get through to her.

“Opposites attract.”

“What if Cammie’s right and I hurt you?”

“Hurt me?”

“In your business, with your whole hitting-balls-in-weird-pants thing,” she says and I have to laugh.

“Sweetheart, I can assure you the only way you could hurt me is if you walk away without giving us a chance.”

“I don’t come from money, Gray. I’m never going to be comfortable around people like…”

I put my lips to hers and kiss her gently to stop whatever she’s going to say. Her lips are as tender and sweet as I remember. I drink in the flavor of her and pull slowly back.

“You’ve met my family, Cooper. Do you honestly think they’re anything like the Rivertons?”

“Well, Ida Sue’s pet cow does remind me of Cammie a little.”

“Oh, that was bad, Claudia Cooper.”

“I could show you bad…”

“Right here? In the barn?”

“Let’s be honest. Your family already thinks we’re having sex. We might as well.”

I step away from her. I think she actually thinks I’m a stupid man because her face shows her confusion. She actually thinks I’m turning her down. I pull my shirt up over my body and throw it down on the hay.

“Well, what are you waiting for, Cooper? Strip,” I tell her, kicking off my boots. When she starts undressing while smiling at me, something clicks into place. Claudia Cooper is my forever.

Now I just have to prove it to her.

I can’t believe I’m doing this. Then again, I can’t believe I’m here. Something about Gray makes me do things I would normally never do—like have sex in a barn on a pile of hay in the middle of the afternoon with his crazy family milling around outside. Yet here I am.

I watch him the entire time I undress. I can’t go slowly because there’s a good chance I’ll lose my nerve and an even bigger chance his mom will come out to do something crazy like give her cow a manicure. It doesn’t matter because the last article of my clothing hits the ground, then Gray grabs me and kisses me. His body is warmer than I remember, softer, yet strong at the same time. I open my mouth to him, groaning as his tongue pushes inside and takes over my mouth. His mouth slants over mine, our lips caressing, tasting and devouring each other. I’ve been kissed before, but Gray’s kisses are always like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I could kiss him for hours upon hours and still crave more.

When we break apart, I take a deep breath. My body is literally shaking from the need and the storm he has awakened inside of me. I dig my fingers into his back and hold on as I raise my head to look at him. Gray has to be the most beautiful man on the face of the planet. Have I said that? It needs to be repeated. The man is so masculine and sexy that it should be illegal. With his hair rumpled and his eyes sparkling with mischief, he is like nothing I’ve ever encountered. He could charm a nun into spreading her legs.

“What are you thinking, sweet lips?” he asks and I shake my head at that horrible nickname he insists on using. I want to say something smart. I’m already feeling exposed, but before I can stop myself, the truth slips out.

“I missed you,” I whisper. What is it about Gray that undermines my defenses and allows these moments of weakness that leave me vulnerable? Gray groans my name, his hand moving down to cup the side of my neck, and he pulls my mouth back to him.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much, woman,” he purrs into my ear. The vibration of his words rock me. Is it another line? If it is, it’s a fucking good one.

When his lips slide down the side of my neck and his hands come around to hold my breasts, squeezing them gently, I stop thinking altogether. His thumbs scrape against my nipples at the same time he gently bites my shoulder. A ripple of need pushes through my body, making my knees feel weak. I can feel myself getting wetter as he kisses down my chest to suck one of my nipples in his mouth, feeding my desire. His tongue moves around it, petting it, teasing it and sending shards of electricity through my body.

“Gray,” I whimper, torn between never wanting him to stop what he’s doing and demanding he just take me.

“I love your breasts, CC. The way they feel in my hands, the way your nipples strain for attention. How they respond when I tease you,” he whispers against my skin before taking one fully in his mouth and sucking on it. My head goes back with a gasp, my nails flexing into his skin and scoring his back as desire rips through me. His tongue pushes the nipple to the roof of his mouth, the slick, moist skin tightly sliding against it right before he flicks his tongue over it and puts it in place so he can bite down on it. A small burst of pain scissors like white heat through me.

I feel his hand move down my stomach, his rough callused skin making me feel more feminine than I’ve ever felt in my life. “Are you wet for me, Cooper?”

For the life of me I can do nothing, not even mumble. My breath is lodged in my throat as I wait to see what else he does to my body. Gray doesn’t stop until he reaches my center. The tips of his fingers slide through the sticky moisture gathered on the outside. “Soaked,” he grunts, answering himself, right before thrusting his fingers inside of me. “Always so wet, tight, and ready for me. You were made for me, Cooper,” his deep voice growls while he slowly thrusts his fingers in and out of me.

“Gray,” I plead, my voice weak and filled with need.

“What is it, sweetheart? What do you want?”

I’d answer him if I could, I really would, but words are kind of beyond me. Next time, I’ll try and remain in control and torture him like he is doing to me right now. Instead, I do the only thing I can manage, the only thing my brain allows me to do. I reach down and grab his cock. It manages somehow to be even more heated than the rest of him. So hot and thick, it fills my hand and makes my knees want to buckle at the same time. Now it’s his turn to groan. I stroke him once, forcing myself to open my eyes and watch his face as I squeeze his cock tightly in my hand. His eyes go inky dark, his breath labored.

“Keep that up and this is going to go pretty fucking fast, Cooper. I’ve been without you too long.”

“I need you inside of me, Gray. It’s been way too long,” I tell him honestly. It has. In the last few days, I’d wake up in the middle of the night after dreaming about making love with Gray, and I’d want to cry because he wasn’t there. “I feel so empty,” I tell him, squeezing his dick harder.

He growls and then takes complete control. His fingers leave me and I cry out in frustration. I want to complain, but I can’t because he’s too busy lying me back on the hay. It pokes against my skin and I have to wonder why you hear so often about people rolling around in the hay because it’s not comfortable at all. Then, Gray’s body comes over mine. He braces himself with one hand as he pushes against my leg. I spread as wide as I can to make room for him. He positions his dick at my entrance. I can feel the tip of his cock and try to thrust up to bring him inside. He grabs hold of my hip quickly, preventing it. His hand holds me almost to the point of bruising, but I love every moment of it.

“Hold still for me, Cooper. I’m in control,” he growls, the look on his face so intense I shudder in need. I bite my lip, giving a slight nod because words are beyond me. He must understand, however, because he goes back to holding his cock. He moves the tip against my pussy. The slick wet skin glides against me, just skirting the place I want it the most—deep inside of me. Then, it slips against my clit and he moves it over and over in the same spot, pushing against the throbbing nub. My whole body jerks in reaction, my nails biting into the cheeks of his ass. My vision is blurry because I’m so close to the edge, but I can see him smile. He knows exactly what he’s doing. A little more of this and I’m done for.

“Oh God,” I breathe, my eyes closing as he does it again. Then, before I realize it, he’s thrusting inside of me so completely and so quickly that he’s seated all the way in before I can even open my eyes. When I do, he’s right there, his lips finding mine. I wrap my leg around him, burying the heel of my foot into the backs of his thighs. The move pushes him in so deep, I can feel him practically against my cervix.

“Jesus, Cooper, you feel so fucking good,” he groans as he sets a rhythm. “So fucking good.”

“More, Gray. I need more,” I plead, knowing I’m close to coming, but requiring more to send me over the edge. He knows it too and he’s purposely holding out.

“You belong to me, Cooper. You’re not getting away from me again,” he growls, and I swear I can feel his cock rake against my walls when he pulls back out, so tight that the veins of his cock graze me.

That’s when it hits me: Gray doesn’t have on a condom. I’m on birth control, but I’ve never done this without a condom—ever.

Panic washes over me and I push on his shoulders.

“Gray! Stop! Oh God, stop!” It takes him a minute to realize I’m asking him to quit, probably because, greedy whore that I am, I still have both my legs wrapped around him trying to hold him inside. God.

“It’s okay, baby, don’t get scared on me. This is good. What we have is good,” he croons, but he doesn’t understand.

“You don’t have a condom on. We can’t do this. Oh shit, Gray! Get up!” I urge him, unlocking my legs from around him.

“Aren’t you on the pill?” he asks, still not moving.

“What? Yeah, of course.”

“Then what’s the problem?” he asks, sounding confused.

“Hello? The pill doesn’t always work, and it doesn’t protect you from diseases…”

“I’m clean, Cooper.”

“You did a sex tape. You want me to just trust that…?”

“You trusted me enough to fuck me in the first place,” he says, and now he’s starting to sound upset with me. That, however, doesn’t stop him from starting to move back inside of me. He angles his body and the sensation is so good, I nearly lose my train of thought.

“Gray! You can’t come inside of me,” I tell him, my voice dripping in panic.

“Relax, I’ll pull out and come all over your stomach, but we will be talking about this later. I’m not going to wear condoms with you forever, Cooper. I want you like this again. Fuck, over and over, just like this,” he says, slamming into me.

I want to argue, but as he pushes me toward my climax, I can do nothing but hold onto him. I want more of this too. I want it over and over, just like him.

I call out his name as I shatter into a million pieces. I’m barely coming back down when I feel him leave my body, and I want to cry at the loss. I feel his warm cum fall against my stomach and my hand automatically goes there to hold on to it, to rub it against my skin and keep it as close as I can get. I feel a moment of sadness because, although I know I am right, I am perversely wishing it was inside of me, that I could feel the hot spray deep in my body. Shit!

Grayson Lucas is making me break all of my rules.

CC is unusually quiet as we make our way from the barn back to Mom’s house. I reach out and take her hand and our fingers slide together. It feels good, and when I squeeze her hand reassuringly, she looks up at me. For a second, I see fear in those green eyes, but then a slow smile breaks on her lips. A smile for me. It’s mine, I’m claiming it, just like I’ve claimed her.

“Wait! Where are you going?” she whispers loudly, sounding as if I’m doing something completely crazy, which maybe I am, because in my head I’m trying to figure out how to talk CC into having sex with me without worrying about the birth control. Any birth control. Just from the panic in the barn alone, I know that’s not going to be easily done. Doesn’t change the fact that it’s what I want. She’s mine forever. I’m not giving her up, even if I can’t tell her that yet. I know without a shadow of a doubt that if I did, she would run. That can’t happen.

“We’re already late for dinner. Mom will skin us both alive if we don’t get in there pretty soon.”

“I can’t go in there!”

“Why not?” I ask, thoroughly confused.

“We just had sex!”

“Sweet lips, not to point out the obvious, but I think they all know that.”

“But I have your protein sauce all over my stomach!”

“Protein sauce?”

“You know what I mean! I’m all sticky!”

“We wiped it off. It’s fine. You’re being crazy over nothing. Besides, you made me put it there. I would have much rather had my little soldiers swimming inside that sweet little body of yours and eventually dripping down your thighs to remind you of everything we did.”

“Your little soldiers need to stay far and away from my insides, Grayson Lucas.”

“We’ll see,” I tell her, frowning. Getting in her unprotected might be a little harder than I anticipated.

“We’ll see? There’s nothing to see!” she practically shouts.

I ignore her, instead choosing to open the door to the kitchen and gently, but firmly, pushing her inside. She stumbles slightly before looking over her shoulder and shooting me a look to kill. I grin just to piss her off more.

“What are we seeing?” White asks.

“Cooper doesn’t want to have a baby with me,” I tell him like that’s something I discuss every day. The room goes silent, but I ignore them all. They don’t get it. When I decided CC was mine, all of my normal routines were thrown out the window. I’m not interested in other women. I’m not interested in trying to burn her out of my system. I want to keep her attached to my side. I want to make sure she can’t get away. I can’t give her those reasons out loud yet because my CC is as skittish as a young colt. I’m not going to make a big secret about shit, either. She needs to hear some of it. She needs to get used to it because I’m going nowhere.

“I can’t believe you,” she huffs in my ear for me alone. “Ignore him. He hit his head on a stall door in the barn. He’s obviously delirious,” she says louder for everyone to hear. Everyone remains silent, most likely because they know I’m totally serious.

Mom reaches over and takes a piece of hay that was stuck in CC’s hair. “You seem to have hay in your hair, sweetie. You really should have picked the kitchen table. That hay can be mighty uncomfortable. And the barn usually has mosquitoes big enough to carry a body off,” she says.

“Umm…”

“And you needn’t worry. Janson made sure this table could hold up an army. It’s sturdy enough to handle anything you two do.”

“Umm,” CC says again, probably not knowing what to say. Mom has that effect on everyone, and has it often.

“There’s a lot of good memories on this table. It’s our favorite worshipping altar,” Janson agrees.

“You guys, really? I eat off this table!” Cyan growls, being the lone Lucas sibling who still lives at home.

“So do I,” says Janson, grinning and winking at Mom.

Everyone moans at the yuckiness of thinking of our Mom like that. Hell, my own moan joins in.

“You have a very strange family, crayon man.”

“If I had a dollar…” I sigh, then put some roast on CC’s plate before adding some to mine. I do the same with the mashed potatoes.

“What if I didn’t want mashed potatoes?” she asks, then reaches over to get a roll and put it on my plate.

“You love mashed potatoes. The waitress at the diner always makes sure you get a double order and you eat every bite,” I tell her, pulling off a piece of the roll with my fingers and popping it in my mouth.

She turns to look at me, studying my face. “You notice things like that?”

“I notice everything about you, Cooper.”

“Why?” she asks, sounding really confused.

“Because you matter,” I tell her, kissing her briefly on the lips. Then I return to eating, leaving her to think while I get lost in the conversations going on around us. I figure I’ve given her enough to think about.

Rome wasn’t built in a day. Tomorrow, I’ll push a little more.

“This was your room growing up?”

“What gave it away?”

“The naked girl posters.”

“Well, this was also Green’s room, so those are his, and I’d like to point out that some of them are wearing clothes.”

“Like… those two over there?” I point to the wall across from the bed.

“Well, those are Green’s. Really, they all are, except Sophia Loren there. That one is all mine.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Hell no! That woman is trophy-boner worthy.”

“Okay, first of all, talking about other women inducing boners while in bed with me? Yeah, that should never happen again.”

“Point made, sweet lips,” he whispers, rolling over me so his body covers mine. He kisses along the inside of my neck and, just like that, I have to struggle to remember what we were talking about.

“Second, what is a trophy-boner?”

“It’s what you get from me every fucking time without even trying,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling it to his dick. He wraps my hand around it, putting his own on top of mine. We stroke his cock together while looking into each other’s eyes.

I grin. “That is impressive.”

“And you and Sophia Loren are the only two women to ever get me this hard,” he whispers, biting on my earlobe.

“Oh my God! You do realize that she’s, like, one hundred and eighty now, right?”

“Sacrilege! She’s like eighty, eighty-one tops.”

“It scares me that you know this.”

“Hey, I get invested when it matters,” he murmurs, sliding down my body and kissing my stomach. I reluctantly let go of his cock, but only because his mouth is headed in a direction I’d definitely like to have it. I close my eyes and enjoy the way his lips graze against the skin on my stomach and the small kisses he places along my hip bone.

“Cooper, I have a favor to ask you.”

“What’s that?” Something in his tone pulls me out of my happy place.

“I want you to go to Nebraska with me.”

“Nebraska?” I’m completely alert now. My body stiffens and Gray must notice because he sighs and pulls up so he can lie beside me. He picks up my hand and pulls it to him, letting his fingers trace around the bones in my wrists as he massages my palm.

“That’s where my next tournament is. I’ve been on break for a couple of weeks because of tendonitis in my shoulder. I have to go to Nebraska, and I really want you with me.”

“They play golf in Nebraska?”

“Yes, though everyone wants to avoid the course I’m on.”

“I thought in golf you could pick and choose what tournaments you play in? Or did I read that wrong?”

“You researched golf?” he asks, turning to look at me. I shrug uncomfortably. If he knew how much he consumed my thoughts, he’d probably worry. He kisses the tip of my nose and grins like a big kid on Christmas morning. “That deserves a reward, Claudia Cooper.”

“Yeah, yeah. So why are you going to Nebraska and not one of the big time golf courses?”

“Do you know where those are?”

“South Carolina? Georgia?”

“A big reward…”

The way he says that combined with the look in his eyes causes my insides to spasm.

“Explain now. Sex later.”

He sighs like I just took away his favorite toy, but he does it still smiling. “Okay, well, ideally when you are a ranked golfer, you can pick and choose.”

“Yeah, and you can’t convince me—”

“Unless, of course, you tick the wrong people off and then your invite gets misplaced, your inquiry gets ignored, your mail gets lost…”

“Holy shit.”

“In short, you get blackballed by the powers that be.”

“What did you do?”

“We don’t need to talk about that right now,” he says uncomfortably.

“I think we do.”

He sighs at my answer and looks at me for a minute, then lets me have it. “Remember the tape with the two girls?”

“I’m trying to forget. That should be another topic, by the way, that we don’t talk to each other about in bed. Or ever, really.”

“You brought it up. It’s just that one of those girls happens to be the daughter of one of the major tour promoters and sponsors.”

“Jesus, Gray. Haven’t you heard the saying ‘don’t shit where you eat’?”

“You’ve been hanging around my mom a little too much.”

“So Riverton’s sponsorship meant his money would make things easier…”

“Well, more like he had influence with most of the powers that be. With him in my corner…”

“You could go back to playing at the fields you love…”

“And hopefully winning to further my rank.”

“And here I thought golf was boring. It’s reading like a made-for-TV movie.”

“Anyway, telling Riverton and Cammie to go fuck themselves—though, in nicer words—kind of nixed any thought of that working out. Hell, it probably made a bad situation even worse.”

“They are vindictive assholes.”

“So, Nebraska it is, and I want you with me.”

“Gray…”

“C’mon, Cooper. Come to Nebraska with me. I want you by my side.”

I study his face. I should say no. I have a business I’ve already neglected enough by coming here. I have obligations. There’s a million reasons I should say no and, honestly, only one I should say yes.

Gray. Gray is the reason. Gray with his wicked smile, his sexy laugh, his outrageous behavior and crazy family. Gray who makes my body melt and my heart feel light. Gray who knows that I love mashed potatoes.

“Okay.”

“C’mon, Cooper,” he persists. “I promise that if you… Wait. What did you say?”

“I said okay, I’ll go to Nebraska with you.”

“Fuck yeah! You won’t regret this, sweet lips.”

“On one condition,” I add, interrupting him.

“What’s that?”

“I want my reward,” I tell him. “Now.”

Then I watch as a smile spreads across his face and he moves his hand between my thighs. That’s about when I stop worrying about everything.

One Week Later

“What’s this?” CC asks.

I look up to watch her walking to the table. She’s wearing my t-shirt and nothing else and my dick instantly tents the gym shorts I’m wearing. Maybe I can talk her into a second round.

“My woman coming towards me to offer her pussy?” I say hopefully and only half joking.

CC stops, looks up from the paper she’s holding, and rolls her eyes at me. “You are a horn dog.”

“You haven’t seemed to complain much lately.”

“I know. I think the Nebraska heat has gotten to me.”

I reach up and pull her down on my lap. She moves so she can straddle me and my hands rest on her hips, moving her body so the hard ridge of my cock nestles against her center. She’s wearing nothing under my shirt and I don’t give a fuck if an earthquake hits at this point—there will be a round two.

“You mean the Gray Lucas heat,” I tell her, moving my hands to the tops of her thighs and letting my thumbs drop down to tease the inside, so close to her sweet little cunt that I can feel the heat rolling off of her.

“Is that like the clap?” she asks, smiling sweetly. If there’s one thing CC does, it’s constantly keep my ego in check.

“I really need to start spanking your ass,” I grumble.

“Right now, you mention that and all I can think of is Ida Sue bent over the kitchen table…”

“Quit trying to kill my boner, woman.”

“I’m thinking that’s not possible with you. But back to what I was saying,” she says, picking up the paper. “The main story in the sports section of the Nebraska Gazette reads, and I quote: Grayson Lucas proves why he’s the hot young stud of the golf course.”

“Jesus,” I grumble, pushing the paper out of her hands and pulling her into my body. Then, I burrow my head into her neck. God, she tastes so sweet here—like sugar. I could spend hours nibbling, biting, and kissing nothing but the spot where her neck and shoulder meet. I run my tongue up her collarbone and then gently knead her neck with my teeth, groaning as her hips shift and she grinds against my hard cock. I feel her fingers thread through my hair and she holds me close. “I can’t get enough of you, Cooper. I don’t think I ever will,” I tell her with stark honesty. I’ve spent this last week trying to show her how much I love her. I haven’t said the words. It’s a fucked up mess that the man who meant to always stay single now finds himself in love with a woman who is so freaking scared of commitment it oozes out of her pores. It’s probably fate’s sadistic karma. Somehow, I will make her see that what we have. What we are together is a once-in-a-lifetime thing.

In the past week, she’s thrown up some of my tabloid exploits. I’ve laughed them off, but even that’s getting tired. I want to tell her that’s all in the past. Hell, since meeting CC, I haven’t looked at another woman. I don’t see them and that’s the truth.

“Gray,” she whimpers, sliding back and forth on my cock. My dick slides in just the right spot and I wish to fuck that I wasn’t wearing my shorts.

“I’m going to fuck you, CC. I’m going to bend you over this table and fuck you so hard that the people in the next room will hear you crying out my name.” I can feel the way her body quakes at my words, her fingers tightening in my hair almost to the point of pain, and she moans while she continues trying to ride the hard outline of my dick. “Is that what you want, baby? Do you want me to push that pretty face of yours down on the glass of this table and hold you in place while I feed your hungry pussy every inch of my cock?”

“Oh fuck,” she whispers, her hands moving from my hair. I raise up from where I’m whispering in her ear to watch her hands move under my shirt. I grab the collar on each end and pull, ignoring the buttons that fly and interested only in exposing her lush breasts. I watch as CC toys with her nipples, her hips undulating against me. She’s fucking gorgeous and she’s very close to making herself come. That can’t happen, even if she is using my body and my hard-as-rock cock to get what she wants. I watch for another minute because I’m a man and this is the fucking hottest thing I’ve seen in my life. Then I grab hold of her and stand up in one swift movement.

“Gray!” she whines, her body shaking since she was so close.

I ignore her protest and, instead, rip the shirt from her body. I should make a rule that she doesn’t wear clothes when we’re in the hotel room together; it slows me down too fucking much. I use my hand to push everything off the table. The vase and flowers crash first with a heavy thud on the carpet, followed by the breakfast dishes we used earlier. I ignore the noise, shifting us around so she’s in front of me. Then I push her against the table, bending her over. Her hands go out to steady herself. I’d worry I’m going too far if it weren’t for her ass pushing out against me, demanding more.

“Hurry, Gray,” she urges.

Fuck, she really is perfect for me.

He pushes me down on the cool glass of the table and I gasp as my breasts press down and my nipples caress the cold surface. I feel Gray close behind me, his hand pressing down on my back to keep me in place. He needn’t worry; I’m not going anywhere. Hell, I was supposed to go back to Kentucky, and instead I’m planning on going with Gray to Arizona. If I’m completely honest, I’m already wondering if Jackson can take over longer. I have it bad for this man, and as much as it scares me, I can’t seem to push him away.

He keeps one hand on my back and I feel his other on the inside of one of my thighs, pulling it so my legs are apart. Then I feel him behind me, completely naked. His legs press against mine, and I can feel his cock slide against my ass as I wait for what comes next.

“So ready for me. Are you willing to admit you’re mine yet, CC?” he asks, his voice hoarse. A million butterflies move in my stomach at his words. He’s been pushing and pushing for me to give him this. I haven’t. I want to say it out loud because inside I know it’s true, but I just can’t seem to.

“Stop talking and start fucking,” I growl, but break off when his hand connects with my ass. Fire lances through my body. “Gray!” I yell, but he spanks me again. I breathe through it as his hand connects again. “What do you think you’re doing?” I ask just as another one is delivered.

“You’re mine, CC.”

“I’m not…” I start to deny it, but the words refuse to come out. In the end, I whimper as his hand slaps my ass again. Somewhere while he delivers his punishment, it changes from pain to… an added pleasure.

“You are mine, CC. Your body knows it, you know it. You just need to admit it,” he whispers against my ass as his tongue moves over the hot, tender skin. His lips place small kisses along the spots he has spanked and his hand moves down to find my pussy. “You’re so wet for me. I think my Cooper likes being spanked.” God. He’s right. I’m soaked and I’m aching to have him inside of me. “Your pussy is holding onto my fingers so tight, it’s going to break them,” he groans. His fingers move in and out of me, hard and fast. Gray’s right. I’m clenching my muscles so tight on his arm trying to keep his fingers exactly where I need them to come. I’m riding them with all that I have, needing to come so bad, I’m almost mindless.

Suddenly, he takes his hand away. I try to rise up and complain but he keeps his hold solidly on my back, forbidding me to move. Then all at once, I feel the head of his cock sliding in the slick cream at my center. I can feel him at my opening and I whimper, needing him to push inside, to end this torture. When he does nothing, I all but snarl. “Gray! Stop torturing me!” My demand is met with a tight laugh, but even through it, I can hear the need in him.

“I don’t have a condom. Are you going to let me fuck you raw?” he rumbles behind me as just the tip of his cock presses inside of me.

“Damn it, Gray,” I growl because he’s been trying for a week to get me here. He thinks I’m being crazy, and a part of me thinks I am too. My whole life, no one sticks around though. Even people who care about me leave. Banger left. He may not have meant to, but he did. Letting Gray in completely is opening myself up to more pain, and I don’t think I can handle the pain that would be associated with losing Gray.

“Tell me, CC,” he growls.

“Yes, damn it. I want it too,” I growl, trying to ignore the tear that falls from my eye. It’s not because of what we’re doing; it’s the fear of losing Gray… because I might love him.

All thought flees when he thrusts inside of me completely. When he sinks all the way in, he holds himself still. I feel his body stretched over me, his breath near my back. I close my eyes and memorize the feel of him everywhere—the feel of him inside me. Proving how well Gray knows me, his next words grab ahold of me and do not let me go.

“Don’t be afraid, CC. I’m here, baby, and I’m going nowhere,” he whispers. His hand pets my back before tangling in my hair. Then his other hand reaches around and zeroes in on my clit. He begins slowly manipulating it with his fingers and then starts setting a slow pace with his body.

He fucks me slow and steady and the emotions are thick, my breath stalling in my chest when I hear him moan and feel his hot cum pour into me.

“Never letting you go, baby. Never letting you go…”

His words are the last I hear before I completely fragment into a million pieces with the largest orgasm I’ve ever had in my life. My entire body shakes and I squeeze my eyes shut. Then I bite my lip to keep from begging him to promise me he’ll always stay.

Please, God, don’t let him be lying…

“Cooper? Where are you? I have something I need to run by you!” I yell, coming through the hotel room. I don’t know how I’ve managed it, but somehow I’ve kept CC with me for two weeks. We’ve traveled through Nebraska, Arizona, and North Dakota. Now we’re in Mississippi. I’ve won each of the courses—and rather easily. What’s even better is that the press has been following me more and more. In fact, last tournament, more fanfare showed up in North Dakota to watch me work my magic than actually showed up for some of the premiere tournaments and talent. I don’t really give a fuck. However, it does mean one thing: Now the assholes in charge have set up a dinner with me. They’ve talked to Seth and they want me onboard in Hilton Head next week. Seth’s urging me to play ball. I want to say I don’t give a fuck. The truth is, however, that the competitive side in me realizes these tournaments are where the real talent are. The men who eat, drink, and sleep golf. The men who leave it all out on the green. In my career, I’ve had one motto: To be the best, you have to play the best. That competitive drive is what got me this far and I can’t ignore it now.

All of that boils down to the fact that I’m meeting a bunch of stuffy suits for dinner tomorrow night, which would be easy, but it worries me how CC is going to react. Even I have to admit I’m nervous about it. Dinners haven’t exactly gone well with me and CC. Worse, Riverton will be at this meeting. I can only hope that Cammie doesn’t show up. It’s going to take a miracle to talk CC into going to this damn dinner as it is—a miracle I’ll never pull off if I can’t even find her. She’s not in the main room or the attached kitchen. The bedroom is empty, too.

“Cooper!” I yell again, starting to get worried.

“In here,” she calls from the bathroom. I open the door and what I see makes me feel like a hand is squeezing my heart. CC is in a bubble bath, her flowing red hair pinned atop her head, but a few curls have fallen down to frame her face. Her body is wet, shiny, and perfect, and I get just enough of a glance before the bubbles curve around and hide her from me, making me want more.

“Damn, there’s a vision for a man to come home to,” I tell her, and I’m not joking. At all.

“Except we’re not home, Einstein. We’re in a hotel.”

“Honey, with a body like that, it doesn’t matter where we’re at,” I tell her, but I am mad at myself. What I really want to tell her is that anywhere she’s at feels like home to me. I can’t say that. She may be thawing out some, but she’s definitely not ready to hear me tell her how I really feel… what I really want.

“So much flattery. Now can you get out of here so I can finish my bath?”

“Um… go ahead and bathe, I’m not stopping you,” I tell her, leaning on the bathroom door and crossing my arms. Fuck no. I’m not about to leave. I’m not stupid.

“Okay, let me rephrase that: Leave so I can finish my bubble bath without you bothering me.”

“I’ll be good. You won’t even know I’m here.”

“Yeah, sure. Your tongue is sticking out, pervert.”

“What? I’m innocent.”

“Whatever. You would think you’d be worn out especially after this morning.”

“This morning was just an early workout. You should know your man by now, woman,” I tell her, and she gets this look on her face that stays there for all of a few seconds. Then, she just shakes her head at me.

“Why are you back early? I thought you said you were going to go by the course and scope things out.”

“Well, Seth called.”

At my words, CC sits up a little taller in the tub, which is good for me because it reveals her breasts. My eyes are glued to them, watching as the water and bubbles stream slowly, running down her breasts until her nipples are revealed.

“Are those assholes messing with you again? What the hell can they do now? Jesus, someone needs to teach these fuckers a lesson. I might be the one to do it. What are they doing?”

I can hear her talking, but honestly I’m paying very little attention. My eyes are glued to her body and my cock is throbbing. I’ve always enjoyed sex, but having CC is making me a self-proclaimed sex addict.

“Gray! Eyes up here, moron. What bullshit are they pulling now?”

“Moron? Words hurt, Cooper.”

“I’m going to hurt you.”

“I’ve never been into dominating women, but for you, I’d be willing to try.”

“I know it’s hard, but will you try and be serious for a minute?”

I crouch down by the tub, folding my hands on the rim and smiling at her. “Well, I am pretty hard.”

“I know when there’s a naked woman in the room, your brain cells dissipate, but let’s try. What are those assholes pulling now?”

“God, you’re sexy when you’re all set to defend me.”

“Right now I’m thinking I might rather kill you.”

I grin. Shit, this woman never stops giving me what I want.

“They’re not doing anything, sweet lips. They want to meet with me.”

“Of course they do, because they realize you’re the star. They need you. I swear, assholes with money are all the same.”

“Hey now.”

“You know what I mean,” she growls. “So when do you meet with them?”

“They want to meet for dinner tomorrow night.”

She is silent for a few minutes. Then, she takes a deep breath and her hand slides along the side of my face. “You got this.”

There it is. CC giving me her support. CC believing in me. I don’t think she even realizes she does it, but she does. I notice, and that’s just one small thing in a million larger ones that makes her special, that makes her the woman I plan on keeping.

“We got this,” I correct her, giving her a gentle kiss on her lips. “I thought it would be harder to talk you into having dinner with them. It means a lot that you…”

“Wait. What are you talking about? Why would I be having dinner with them? It’s a business dinner. There’s no reason for me to be there.”

“There’s every reason. I want you there. Hell, Cooper, I need you there.”

“Gray, I don’t get along with those kind of people. If there’s anything our time together has taught us, it’s that.”

“Bullshit. We’re a team, CC. You and me against them all.”

“Gray…”

“I need you, CC.”

She closes her eyes, and guilt hits me. I know she’s given up a lot to come with me. I know this is hard for her. I’m a second away from telling her it’s okay when she surprises me.

“Okay, fine,” she says.

Elation strums through me. “You mean it?” I ask, sounding like a little kid.

“Yeah. I mean, how bad can it be? At least Cammie and her father won’t be there,” she says.

And here is my first huge mistake: I remain quiet. I don’t confess that Riverton will be there.

Instead, I say, “You amaze me.” I push the guilt down, then pull her in for a kiss. Our tongues dance. Her arms go around me and she gives herself over to me. I push in closer, intent on climbing into the tub and taking what’s mine.

“Gray! What are you doing? You’ll get all wet!”

“I don’t give a fuck,” I tell her, and I don’t. I need this. I need her. And I really don’t want to think about what’s going to happen if Riverton and Cammie are at that meeting tomorrow night.

“Are you sure I look alright?” I ask Gray for the tenth time, which is crazy since I know I look good. I’m also confident in the dress I’m wearing. I spent all day researching places on the web so I would find the perfect dress to wear. We’re having dinner at a very uptown restaurant. It took us two hours to drive here. I guess the assholes didn’t want to eat in the small town they had condemned Gray to compete in.

“Sweetheart, you look beautiful,” he says, and the softness in his voice almost undoes me. I’m wearing a black cocktail dress. Classic, chic, and definitely not something that will embarrass me or Gray. I went to a spa and had my hair tamed and fixed. If there is one thing about my outfit that Gray doesn’t like, my hair would be it; he loves my hair and misses the curls tonight. I’d never admit it, but I kind of do, too. I take a breath at the hostess table, trying to make sure my dress is straight and I haven’t done something stupid. I look behind me thinking I will find toilet paper stuck to my dress from when I went to the bathroom, but there isn’t. It doesn’t make a damn bit of sense, but then again, I’m not exactly making a lot of sense tonight. “Stop fidgeting, Cooper. You’re beautiful. You’re the best looking woman here tonight.”

“You haven’t seen the other women,” I tell him.

He pulls my face close to his, so close that our foreheads touch. His hands gently cup the sides of my neck and his eyes look deep into mine. “Since the moment I met you, Claudia Cooper, other women ceased to exist for me.” His words, so softly delivered, pierce my heart and squeeze it so tight it’s hard to breathe.

I fight through it, my hand going to cover his on my neck. “That’s a really good line, Grayson Lucas.”

“There’s not a line in it. I’m so fucking proud to have you on my arm, Cooper. Never doubt that for one fucking minute.”

Can you stop breathing from the force of words alone? The thing about it is, his words seep into empty parts of me and fill up holes that have been there for years. I have no defense. I’m just here, exposed.

“If you make me cry, I’m going to kick you in the nuts,” I try to joke, but my voice is broken, giving away the emotion he has evoked.

His beautiful lips slowly smile. “Got it. No more sappy stuff.”

“No more sappy stuff,” I agree, and he kisses me quickly before pulling away.

“Do you have reservations?” the hostess asks, and Gray looks at me strangely, clears his throat, and grabs hold of my hand. He squeezes it reassuringly and I’m starting to get a bad feeling.

“It should be under Riverton,” he says quietly to the hostess, but he’s looking at me.

My face goes pale. I know it does because I can feel the cold clamminess spread. Riverton? What the fuck? He knew Riverton was going to be here and he didn’t warn me? Gray knew I thought he wouldn’t be here and he let me believe it. I jerk my hand, trying to get it free from his hold. He doesn’t let go, however, and before I can say anything to him, the devil himself picks that moment to walk up.

“Grayson, how nice to see you again,” he says, and I don’t know which one of the two I would rather kick right now. It would be a tough call.

“David, you too,” Grayson says, shaking the devil’s hand.

“We’re seated this way,” Riverton says, ignoring the fact that there’s a hostess who gets paid to do that. He doesn’t acknowledge me on the way there, which is fine as I’m more than used to that. I prefer it, really.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Gray whispers as we’re walking behind Riverton.

“I’m not talking to you,” I whisper back.

“If I had told you, you wouldn’t have come.”

“So you lied.”

“No, I just didn’t correct you. It could be worse,” he adds just as we get to the table.

That’s when I see her: Cammie Riverton. She stands up and beams at Gray, wrapping him in a hug that, to his credit, he doesn’t return.

“Grayson! I’ve missed you,” she says, and the fact that Grayson doesn’t return the hug and pretty much ignores what she says might be the only thing that saves his life.

At least for now.

“Cammie,” I all but growl. Fuck, it was going to be hard enough to get CC not to hate me over Riverton. The fact that Cammie is here will just make everything fucking worse.

“Oh, Claudia. I didn’t realize you would be here,” Cammie says, her voice dripping with distaste.

I feel CC stiffen beside me and I hate myself all over again for putting her through this. My woman is brilliant and completely in charge—unless these idiots are involved. They make her feel out of her depth. I get the feeling that Cammie Riverton is a real expert at it.

“Odd, I could say the same about you,” CC returns, and when I look up, she’s staring at me. I’m not sure what to call the look on her face. I knew I would be in trouble, but her look is something else altogether. I wouldn’t even call it anger, which is what I expected the most.

“I’m afraid we don’t have enough seats,” Cammie says, saccharinely sweet.

“Here, sweetheart. Sit here and I’ll get the waiter to bring us another chair,” I jump in, shooting Cammie a look of disgust. Not that she gets it.

“Aww, thank you, Gray,” CC says, sitting down. “It’s so nice having a boyfriend who does these little things to show how much he cares,” she adds, and that might make me feel good if I didn’t feel the bad vibes coming off of her. I quickly find another chair. Cammie slides over to give room to put a chair in between her and CC. That’s not happening. I gently nudge CC next to Cammie and sit close beside her with Neil Brayden, another investor, on my other side.

The next few minutes are consumed with everyone ordering food and getting settled. CC says very little, but right now I’m calling it a win that she doesn’t get up and walk away. I’m doing my best to ignore Cammie’s little digs she’s adding to the mix; all are designed to make CC feel unwelcome, or to talk about things she has no idea about. All this time, I thought Cammie was ditzy, mostly an airhead, but I’m starting to see the error in assuming that. Small talk continues while we wait on our food. It’s stilted at best. I never thought I’d be so glad to have a waitress come and interrupt us as I am in this minute. I’ve got my arm wrapped around the back of CC’s chair, the message clear: I’m with her. I’d feel better if she would at least acknowledge me.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” I ask, trying to get her involved—at least with me, if nothing else.

“I’m fine, darling. Why wouldn’t I be?” she asks, and the sweet, innocent routine is definitely fake. She turns around to talk to Cammie. “He’s always so attentive, worrying to make sure I’m okay,” she smiles. I squeeze her shoulder reassuringly. She remains stiff, but doesn’t pull away.

“I care about you, sweetheart. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

CC looks up at me, and that’s when I see it: hurt in those big green eyes. For a minute, she lets her guard down, and I can see it clearly. Acid churns in my stomach. I can deal with her anger, as that’s what I was expecting, but what I see is pain and hurt. That’s more than I can handle.

She turns over and leans into Cammie like they’re the best of friends. That should warn me what to expect. Sadly, it doesn’t.

“He’s always doing this. It drives me crazy.”

“Gray’s a very thoughtful man. I’m sure he’s just being kind,” Cammie says as if she’s offended on my behalf. “You should be grateful,” she adds, reaching over to pat my hand. I pull it back immediately, but it doesn’t seem to faze her. “I’m sure the men you’re used to dealing with aren’t like that, only there because of what you give them. But a real man is different, Claudia. A real man expects a more adult relationship with a woman.”

I start to interject, but CC responds before I can. “You’re most likely right. Though Gray and I do have the adult part down, most of our talking is done in the bedroom. Isn’t that right, dear?” she asks, smiling at me innocently. I hear Brayden cough, nearly choking on his food. Riverton’s indrawn breath is larger than it should be and almost overpowers Cammie’s gasp. Me? I’m torn between holding my head down, banging it on the table, or laughing. Still, CC doesn’t know who she’s with if she thinks she’s going to wiggle her sweet little tongue and get back at me. I know how to deal with this. This I can handle instead of the pain.

“Really, Claudia,” Cammie says, sounding scandalized.

“I just like to make sure my woman is happy,” I tell her before Cammie can say something else. “So gentlemen, I’m sure we’re all anxious to get home. I know I am,” I say, looking at CC and leaving nothing about my intentions hard to read. “How about we get down to the real reason we’re here?”

“Maybe they would like to finish their dinner, dear.”

“I’d like to get home and make sure my woman is happy.”

“Your woman seems to have developed a headache,” she says, and Brayden laughs out loud. CC gives him a genuine smile that, oddly enough, makes me want to punch the man.

“Grayson, you never pull any punches,” Cammie croons. “It’s one of the things I so admire about you. You’ve been doing outstanding on the greens. You practically bury every opponent. And your form is so outstanding. A mark of a champion.”

“Thank you, Cammie. It has been a good tournament. I’m looking forward to South Carolina. The competition there promises to be more challenging.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will handle it and come out on top. It’s one of the many things you and I have in common. Competition just fuels us. We find something we want and we don’t stop until we get it,” she says. I start to respond, staring at my food and wishing this was over and done. I should have ignored Seth’s orders and just kept going like I was. I would have made it to the Beach on my own. My head jerks up when Cammie screeches like a wet hen. Her pale beige gown has a crimson red slowly soaking into it. I look over at CC and she’s holding her wine glass—now empty, and doing her best to look innocent. She’s failing.

“I’m so sorry, Cammie. Here let me help you dry that up,” she says, grabbing her napkin and moving it to Cammie’s breasts to try and dab the liquid.

Cammie yanks the napkin out of CC’s hand in outrage. “I think you’ve done enough,” she growls. “Really, I know you don’t get out of that garage very often, but you could try to be a little civilized!”

CC pulls back and a look comes on her face that I’ve not seen. She looks almost calm. “Funny thing. You’re right. I didn’t get much of a chance to be accepted in the civilized world,” she says, her voice a funny tone. She’s not looking at Cammie, however; she’s looking at Riverton. “A fact I’ve never been more grateful for than I am tonight. Mr. Brayden, I’m sorry we met under such strained conditions, as I think I would have enjoyed meeting you.”

“It was my pleasure, Ms. Cooper,” he says, standing up when CC does.

“Yes, well, I think I’ll just be going. My headache seems to be worsening,” she says, and I stand up to join her. I pull her chair out, putting my hand at her back. There are things we need to discuss.

“Lucas. We haven’t discussed the upcoming matches. I think it would be in your best interest to stay.”

“I’m afraid…”

“Yes, Gray, you should stay. Don’t let me ruin the night for you. I’ll just grab a taxi,” CC says, already turning away from me.

“No, sweetheart. I’ll get you home and make sure you’re okay. You are my priority,” I tell her, making it clear to everyone—or at least trying to.

“Listen to Claudia. She’s making sense. Business should come first. She’ll be fine. We’d like to talk to you about becoming the face of the tour.” He’s dangling a large carrot that pretty much has never been done before. Favoritism is rarely shown except in carefully controlled media shots. At one time, this offer would have been a major score. Right now, I find I don’t give a damn.

“Yes. Mr. Riverton is right. I know exactly how businesses are. I’m afraid I have to return to mine tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s right. Cammie was telling me you run a garage?” Brayden says.

“I own it, and I’ve let it go for way too long, really,” CC says. “Way too long,” she says again. She reaches up to place a cold kiss on my cheek and then leaves. I should be chasing after her, but I feel like I just been sucker punched.

She’s going back to Kentucky?

“Where have you been?” I ask CC as she opens the door to our hotel. I’ve been sitting here on the couch staring at the door since I got back. I tried to rush out and catch her at the restaurant, but she disappeared much too quickly. I came home to find an empty hotel. She didn’t answer her texts and her clothes were still here, so I’ve just been waiting. It’s a fucked-up feeling and I’m pissed off she ran instead of facing this head on.

She looks at me but doesn’t respond. In fact, instead of answering me or talking to me at all, she ignores me and walks into the living room. I follow her like a damn dog, and that just pisses me off more. When the hell did I start chasing a woman?

“I asked you a question,” I tell her, standing. I watch as she gets her overnight satchel she’s been using and starts pulling stuff out of the dresser drawers and shoving clothes into her bag.

“I heard you,” she mutters, not bothering to look up. I walk over, and when she turns to go back to the dresser, I pull the clothes out.

“An answer would be nice,” I tell her as she comes back to the bed. She looks at the clothes laying on the bed and then back at me. Then, she throws the clothes in her hand at me.

“You want an answer? You’re a selfish asshole!”

“I’ll admit to that. You want to tell me why you’re leaving?”

“Because you’re a selfish asshole!”

“I’ve been that from day one and you’ve still hung around.”

“Because I was stupid!”

“Sweet lips…”

“Don’t you ‘sweet lips’ me! I can take a lot of shit. But you made me trust you and then you turned around and lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie exactly.”

“You did! Lying by omission is still lying. You let me walk into that den of vipers unprepared!”

“You wouldn’t have gone otherwise!”

“That was my decision! Which is why you should have told me!”

“I wanted you with me!”

“So you voluntarily made a decision that threw me to the damned wolves?”

“I wanted to prove to you that—”

“Prove what? That you’re a selfish prick? Are you even listening to yourself? You aren’t even apologizing! It’s all I want. Let me tell you what I want, Grayson Lucas. I want a man who respects me and realizes that I put my whole damn life on hold to support him. All I wanted was you to be honest with me.”

“I didn’t lie!” I growl, but I know it’s weak.

“Fuck you.” She’s finished stuffing the clothes back in the bag, so she throws the strap over her shoulder and moves to walk around me… away from me.

“I was an idiot. I’m sorry, CC. I didn’t mean for it to go down like this.”

“What on Earth did you think would happen? Hasn’t the past shown you that I’m oil and water with the Rivertons by now?”

“I wanted to show them that you’re mine. Shit, CC, I don’t know. I knew they would be crawling tonight, asking me to reschedule into the bigger tournaments and I just… I wanted you there to share that with me. I wanted us to be there together like a team.”

She studies my face and I let her. I want her to see the truth there. I didn’t mean for this to go bad. I wanted to show that we were a team. I fucked up.

“If you wanted us to be a team, you should have told me the truth.”

“You aren’t telling me the truth,” I tell her before I can stop myself.

“What are you talking about?”

“There’s something between you and the Rivertons. More than just you and Cammie hating each other. If tonight showed me nothing else, it showed me that.”

“There’s a difference between lying and just not telling you something because it’s none of your business.”

“You are my business,” I tell her.

“Not anymore.”

“Wait, just like that you think it’s over? Fuck that shit, Cooper. We’re having this out, then I’m stripping you bare and reminding you just how well we match up.”

“Sex is just sex.”

“The hell it is. What we have is special, Cooper. You have to admit to that much.”

“What I have to admit is that I can’t trust you!”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake! I made a mistake, I admit it! But—”

“It was a big damn mistake. You kept something from me that I needed to know. I walked into that restaurant and got blindsided!”

“What do Cammie and her dad matter? They’re idiots! They aren’t worth this shit.”

“You just don’t get it!”

“Then explain it to me, Cooper, because I’m missing something here.” I take a step back and bottle the frustration I’m feeling. I want her to stay. I don’t need to give her more reasons to run because I know my woman and she has that look in her eyes that tells me she’s close to running.

“My whole life, the Rivertons have done nothing but make me feel like trailer trash… the dirt under their fingernails. I thought Cammie was my best friend and I got to school one day and the shit she pulled, the things I learned… it nearly destroyed me.”

“Destroyed you? You told me you were in the fifth grade when the two of you started having problems. What in the hell could happen in the fifth grade that could destroy you? I get that I should have told you things, CC. I do. I fucked up. But don’t be melodramatic here. What’s in the past is in the past. It doesn’t have to color the people we are now. It doesn’t have to interfere with the lives we have.”

When I finish talking, CC looks white. Her whole body is tight and I can see small tremors in her hands as she holds her arms close at her chest. I feel like the biggest bastard in the world.

“You have no idea,” she whispers, sadly.

She’s right. Before I fuck up everything else, I drop down on my knees in front of her. I brace my hands on her hips and I look up at her.

“You’re right, sweetheart, I don’t. But I’m asking you not to write me off. I fucked up. I keep fucking up, but I need you to give me another chance.”

“Gray…”

“Please, CC. I won’t make you regret it.”

I stay there on my knees hoping she softens. If she doesn’t, I can see myself following her back and telling the tours to fuck off. That’s how far gone I truly am—and I don’t even care. In fact, I’m embracing it. CC is it for me. I just have to get her to believe in that.

He has no idea how bad he hurt me. He doesn’t truly know the history between me and the Rivertons, so on one hand, I can’t truly be upset with him. In his mind, he thinks it’s a simple case of spoiled rich kid versus blue collar bitch. On the other hand, he purposely set tonight up and, after two disaster dinners where the Rivertons were involved, he should have been completely up front. I can’t help feeling betrayed.

“Stay with me, Cooper,” he urges again.

I need to make a choice. Am I dreaming to think that Gray and I could work out? To look at us and the lives we’ve led, you would think we’re completely different. But spending time with him, especially when it’s just the two of us, it doesn’t feel like we’re that different. When I look at his crazy family, I kind of feel like I fit in. They like me. Even Maggie has taken to calling me here and there to talk. I like her. She’s crazy and sweet—a lot like her mom, though maybe dialed down a notch on the crazy.

“I’m not a drama person, Gray. I had enough of that when my mom was around and then when she left. Banger did more than just take me in; he gave me peace and a home.”

“I promise, CC. I’ll tell you everything from now on. No more secrets.” His words make my stomach tighten in nervousness. Some secrets should never come out. It’s the moment of truth. Do I give him the ugly truth? Or do I hold back? Sometimes, it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie.

“I’m not asking you to tell me everything about your past, Gray. I’m sure we both have things we want to forget. Don’t make it sound like that. I’m just asking that before you let me walk into a situation like that, you give me some damn warning,” I huff. I’m feeling really uncomfortable. I just want this conversation done. There’s a big part of me that wants to go back to Kentucky, back to the safety and the life I’ve built there. I’m not ready to let go of Gray, though. He’s important. I… care about him.

Gray leans in and kisses my stomach.

“Does this mean you’re going to South Carolina with me?”

“No,” I sigh, my fingers curling in his hair.

“Cooper, damn it. You can’t let what we have, all of it, just go without even giving me a chance,” he growls, getting up and turning away from me, frustration thick in his voice.

“I need to get back to Kentucky, Gray. I have a life there… a business there. I was planning on going back soon, anyway. Tonight just sped the decision up.”

“I need you with me,” he says, turning around to look at me. I immediately want to give in, but life taught me a long time ago that it’s better to live cautiously.

“I’m not breaking up with you, Gray. I’m going back home to check on my business and house. Heck, I need to make sure that Mer hasn’t killed Cat.”

“That mongrel is too mean to die.”

“Lay off Cat,” I tell him with a slight smile.

“You’ll come back?” he says, and fear grabs ahold of me, beating in my chest. He wants me back and that feels amazing, but what happens if I let him completely in and I lose him?

“Not for South Carolina, but if you keep winning, maybe I’ll come admire your trophy.”

“You’re not fooling me. You’re totally talking about my dick.”

“Or at least your boner,” I agree, breathing a little easier.

“If you don’t come back, Cooper, I’m coming to get you. You need to understand that. I’m not letting you go. I’m keeping you.”

His words break through the fear in my chest—at least a little of it.

“Keeping me? Careful, you sound a little caveman there.” He walks over and picks me up. I squeal, trying to brace myself on his shoulders. “What are you doing? Put me down before you hurt yourself, you big dummy!”

Gray just laughs at me and then tosses me on the bed. I land horizontally on it beside my packed bag he must have tossed there earlier. Heck, I hadn’t even realized it wasn’t on my shoulder anymore. He pushes it to the floor and grins down at me, taking his shirt off over his head and throwing it on the ground.

“Me Tarzan. Me fuck Jane senseless. Jane be too tired to get on plane,” he grunts, kicking off his shoes.

“That’s your plan?” I ask him, laughing.

“It good plan. Jane shut up now and Tarzan take her for a ride on his grapevine.”

“You are seriously, seriously deranged,” I laugh, but I’m sitting up and taking off the clothes I threw on when I got back to the hotel. Gray works faster than me and by the time he has his own clothes off, he reaches down and helps me kick out of my jeans and underwear. He wraps his arms around my hips and pulls me down on the bed. Without warning, he buries his face between my legs. I cry out just as his tongue begins working its magic. When I feel it stroke against my clit, I forget about everything else and just let myself get lost in the sensations that only Gray can create.

“That’s it, baby. Lay back and ride my fucking face,” he groans, and this is one time I lay back and give Gray control without worry.

I do exactly what he tells me to. I ride his face. Tarzan good.

“That was outstanding, Gray. You’re really racking up the wins.”

“Thanks,” I tell Riverton, wishing he’d leave. Something about the man rubs me wrong.

“The way you’ve been tearing it up, you’ll need that week off you wanted before the next Florida match. Your official invite to the king of them all came today, by the way. Just four weeks away,” he says, like he had much to do with it. I’ve busted my ass and racked up win after win and climbed so far in the standings that the invite is an afterthought. The only thing he’s involved in is making the courses a little smoother and nicer. I finish this match here and then I get a week off. I return to Florida for one more match and the competition there will be the best of the best. I’ll need to be on my A game to make it out with my top fifteen rank intact. I’m currently twelve in the standings, which is a fucking huge accomplishment. But I want that trophy and that green jacket. Then, I’ll feel like I’ve made it to the top. It’s so close I can almost taste it, so I’m chomping at the bit to get rid of the Florida matches so I can look towards Georgia. “What do you say we have dinner and celebrate?” Riverton adds, and that’s the last thing I want to do. I am supposed to be on the course early in the morning and get this damn tournament done, then I am hopping a plane to Kentucky and getting back to my woman.

“I got an early call in the morning,” I tell him. “I probably should get back to the hotel and pack. I’m leaving right after the tournament.”

“Nonsense. A quick dinner will still get you back in plenty of time. Actually, you know what you’d enjoy? The boys and I have a poker game coming up at the local club. That’s just the thing to help you unwind before tomorrow. What do you say about joining in? Brayden was called out of town and it left an empty chair.”

“I don’t know…”

“It’s good to rub elbows with the tour members, son,” he warns, instantly annoying me. Still, if I go home, all I’ll do is jerk off to the memory of CC and God knows I’ve been doing that enough since she’s been gone. I haven’t had her in two fucking weeks. I’ve never missed a woman before CC. I absolutely ache for her. Memories of her laugh and smile haunt me. Thoughts of being inside of her keeps me from sleeping. Hell, I think part of the reason I’ve been doing so good on the course is that I’ve been working on pure frustration.

I’ve been talking to CC every night and the only thing that manages to make me feel even a little bit better is the fact that she seems to be missing me, too. So much so, she’s talking about coming to Georgia to the big tournament to, in her words, mop the floor with those other ball whackers.

I love that woman. Just thinking about our conversations makes me smile. Now, if I just knew the right way to tell her I love her and need her in my life. When I told her I was keeping her, she didn’t react exactly how I wanted her to. I figure if I even try to bring up the word “love”, she’ll run hard and fast.

It’s crazy, actually. Before CC, women were lining up for me. If they thought they could hook me anywhere close to the way CC has me right now, they would have been jumping for joy. CC would be running for the hills. I don’t doubt that at all.

“I can stay for a couple hands. Just a couple, though. I have a phone conference with CC later tonight.”

“A man in your place who’s on the verge of hitting his hard earned dreams? You shouldn’t be tying yourself down to a woman who won’t be able to further your career or appreciate your achievements.”

“CC is all I need,” I correct him, and turn the subject back to safer ground. I’m not discussing CC with Riverton. I hope I’m not making a mistake.

As the night goes on, that’s one line that keeps repeating—I hope I’m not making a mistake—and when I leave late that night and Cammie shows up to pick her father up and comes running up to hug me, it just repeats louder.

The only saving grace is that I took Riverton’s money in cards, but as I endure Cammie’s hug goodbye, I don’t think even that makes it worth it.

“I can’t believe this is what we’ve been reduced to,” Jackson growls, but he plops down on the half-broken sofa in the break room, pops open a beer, and stares at the TV screen, despite his complaining.

“No one is twisting your arm to make you watch golf.” I shrug, taking a bite out of the pizza. The gooey cheese and garlic spiced crust burst on my mouth and I can’t stop from moaning. I’m starved. We’ve worked straight through all day so we could close early for one reason and one reason only: to watch Gray on television. This is his second-to-last match before the big one, the one all the money is riding on. He doesn’t need to win to have a good standing, but he wants to, and I can understand it. He wants to beat everyone that crosses his path. When they say he’s the best in the sport, he wants there to be no question.

“Hey, if watching this shit makes you quit moping around here with that hound dog look on your face, I’m willing. You’re starting to scare off some of the regulars,” Jackson mumbles.

I push a bag of chips and a can of bean dip into his hand. I’m not the dishes-and-fancy-crab-dip kind of girl. Besides, it’s a fucking garage. Then, I plop down beside him with a can of my own French onion dip.

“Have they shown Gray yet?” I ask.

“Nah. For some weird reason, there seems to be other players out there. Strange, right?”

“Sarcasm can be an ugly thing, Jackson.”

“So can anxious, love-sick girls.”

I ignore the flutter in my chest as he mentions love and, instead, choose to stick my tongue out. Jackson just ignores me and takes a drink of his beer. My attention returns to the television. I’ve never been one to watch golf. It all seemed rather boring and all too quiet. Sports are supposed to be full of screaming fans, marching bands, fly balls, touchdowns, or even a dunk. Somehow, hitting a little white ball into a hole seemed stupid, or like something I do on vacation from time to time, but the hole is usually the mouth of a clown, or a windmill—anything to make it interesting, because otherwise I’d be bored as hell and, hence, not watching. But here, the attraction is not a clown, an elephant, windmill, or anything else. It’s all Gray. I think my breath lodges in my chest when the camera zooms in on him. He looks so good, though different. He’s wearing relaxed slacks, not his usual jeans. His t-shirt has been replaced with a polo shirt. He’s got a hat covering his beautiful hair. It’s not that he looks bad, but he doesn’t look like my Gray. Even when I was on the road with him, he didn’t seem this different. I shrug it off. It’s just been awhile since I’ve seen him. That’s all it is.

I’m sadly glued to the television as Gray moves from hole to hole, zooming to the top of the leader’s board. At one point, I think I even cheered out loud. The same can’t be said for Jackson, who is snoring. I threw chips at him once to get him to stop, but he shoved it off his face with his hand and went back to snoring.

At the last hole, Gray struck once and got so close to the hole, I’m sure he could almost taste it. He’s standing at it now, ready to baby it in the hole. I watch as he chooses his club and I’m literally sitting on pins and needles. The camera zooms in on him, the wind ripples through his hair, and I’m holding my breath as I watch him swing and connect with the little white ball. It rolls towards the hole… and sinks. Cheers erupt, and I’m not any different as I screech out in celebration, waking Jackson up. I immediately want to call him and congratulate him.

I reach for my phone just when I see Cammie running out and hugging him. I want to bust the television screen. Gray returns her hug, though I can’t say he was overly friendly. He’s shaking hands with some of the other men and players. I’m still frowning at the television, wondering how I can kill Cammie Riverton from afar.

The reporter pulls Gray to the side and I breathe a little easier because it cuts Cammie out of the picture enough that she doesn’t show up on my screen.

“That was outstanding, Gray. Can you walk our viewers through that last hole and how you rebounded after getting that bogey early in the match?”

“It’s all a blur, honestly, Pauline,” he says, laughing easily. “I just went into competition mode. I want to hurry and get this match done because I’m heading to Kentucky to spend the week with my woman.”

“Does this mean that golf’s most notorious bachelor is off the market?” she asks.

“Completely. My heart belongs in Kentucky. Now if you’ll excuse me, Pauline, I have a plane to catch,” he says, and then, adding with a wink, “See you soon, sweet lips.”

My stomach flutters. What did Gray just do? Oh my God! Then I fall back on the couch giggling like a school girl. Jackson’s glares from my waking him up again can’t even stop the happiness surging through me.

Holy crap! I think Gray really likes me!

I’m more than half asleep when I hear it: a noise coming from the living room. At first I think I dreamed it because I don’t hear anything else right away. I sit up in bed and do my best to focus my eyes in the dark. There’s a faint light in the hall coming from the bathroom, and it helps keep me from being completely blind. I reach over beside the head of my bed and wrap my fingers around the baseball bat I keep there. My fingers tighten against the wrapped handle as I wait. I hear the noise again. This time, it’s definitely real and definitely coming from the living room. I can no longer write it off to just sleeping.

I carefully get out of the bed, clutching the bat as tight as I can. My heart is pounding in my ears and bumping so hard against my chest, it’s a wonder I can breathe. Quietly, I walk through the hallway. As I near the end of it, I can make out a shadowy figure standing by the couch, bending over. I pick up my speed, walking quickly and forgetting silence in hopes I can attack fast and hard. He has to have heard me because he jerks up just as I swing with the bat, claiming the lamp on my sofa table. I close my eyes tight as I hear my lamp shatter, then wait for the dull thud of hitting the person breaking in.

That sound never comes because the bat is jerked out of my hand. I try to hold on and wrestle with it, but it only succeeds in bringing me closer to the person. So, instead, I let go all at once. I hear a muffled, “Motherfucker!” before the figure goes barreling back and falls on the ground.

I take off running towards the front door, deciding there’s no way I’d win in a fight with this asshole. If it had been a woman, sure, and even some men, I think I could take on. But this man was strong when we were fighting over the bat and his voice was very male. Banger didn’t raise a fool. Run now, live tomorrow.

“Jesus Christ!”

I stop with the door halfway open. I know that voice. I hit the light switch by the door. It takes me a few minutes before my eyes adjust, and when they do, it’s to discover Gray lying there looking pissed—but somehow still sexy as hell. He’s sprawled out on the floor, which I can only assume is where he landed, and he’s sitting among the broken glass of my favorite lamp.

“Gray?” I’m sure I’m hallucinating. Heck, maybe I am still asleep.

“Fucking hell, Cooper. Are you trying to kill me?”

“What? No. I mean… Wait… What are you doing here?”

“I caught a red-eye so I could get home to my woman sooner! Now I’m thinking I shouldn’t have bothered.”

I close the door slowly and lean on it while I still my breath.

It’s just Gray. Gray, home early. Gray, coming in the door at four in the morning to surprise me. Gray, missing me so much that he took a flight out of Florida to get here. Gray, calling me his woman. As soon as I kill him for scaring the hell out of me, I might finally admit that I’m… in love with him.

“You almost gave me a heart attack!” I growl, trying to ignore the way my heart is still pounding. I have a feeling it has more to do with the thought of being in love with Gray Lucas than it does still being scared from thinking someone is breaking in.

“Yeah, well, you almost killed me, so I guess we’re even,” he grumbles, slowly getting to his feet. I watch him for a minute before walking to him and taking his hand in mine, palm up, and trying to see what he’s looking at. I wince as I see little slivers of glass all over his skin and some of them sticking in it.

“Shit, that doesn’t look good.”

“It doesn’t feel good either,” he grumbles.

“Let’s get you into the bathroom and I’ll clean the glass off of you,” I tell him. As we walk down towards the hall, I look back at my shattered lamp forlornly. “I really loved that lamp,” I sigh.

“You would have never known it. I think you could probably give my brother lessons in swinging a bat there, Babe Ruth.”

“Bite me. You owe me a lamp. It won’t be easy to find one that I like as much.”

“I’ll give you something besides a lamp you’ll like better,” he says, grinning.

“You’re horrible. Besides, that will be hard to do, but I’m lonely so I’ll let you try.”

“I’ll show you hard.”

“You never stop, do you?”

“Not even when you beg, but there is just one thing that’s going to have to happen first.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” I ask him as we make it to the bedroom and I head in the direction of the adjoining bathroom.

“You’re probably going to have to dig glass out of my ass first, sweet lips.”

I look around at his behind and wince when I see one particularly big shard sticking through the jeans.

Yikes.

“Ow! Damn it, woman, leave some of my ass back there, will you?”

“Oh, good Lord, you’re such a baby. There’s no way that could hurt.”

“Easy for you to say. It’s not your ass all bleeding and cut open. I may need a blood transfusion,” I exaggerate, hiding my grin as I bury my head in my hand so she can’t see. We’re lying on the bed and, even if all CC is doing is bandaging up my ass, I’m completely naked and she’s in a t-shirt (mine, by the way; she’s totally wearing my shirt to sleep in while I’m gone, and I call that a fucking win) and I’m happier right now than I have been since she left.

“Oh my God, men are such babies,” she says as she slaps a Band-Aid on my butt. “There. You’re finished, whiny boy.”

I roll over and pull her down against my chest. For a minute, I can do nothing but stare at her. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen her, but I must have forgotten just how beautiful she is. Right now as I’m staring at her laughing face, her eyes glowing, her cheeks red, her lips moist and plump and begging for attention, the curve of her neck, the gentle sway her breasts make with each breath, I’m completely and utterly hypnotized by her. I’m owned by her. The man I was before I met her seems like a different person. I never want anyone in my life but this woman. I want her when I’m old. I want babies with her. I want to fight with her and, fuck, I really, really want to make it up with her. I want her face to be the last thing I see before I go to sleep and the first thing I see when I wake up. I’m dying to tell her that, but I hold back, still unsure of her. In a lot of ways, CC is like a frightened doe, ready to take off and run at the first approach. Keeping that in mind, I give her the only words I feel like I can right now. They’re thick with unspoken emotion; I can’t help that.

“I’ve missed the fuck out of you, Cooper.”

Her eyes dilate and she licks her lips nervously. Just the simple move of her tongue sliding against her lips to moisten them makes my cock push against her leg, begging for attention.

“I’ve missed you too, Gray. Very much,” she says quietly, and just like that, I feel like I have the world at my feet.

“Show me,” I dare her, and I stare at her lips as I wait to see what her next move will be.

“Show you?” Her hand comes up so that her thumb moves back and forth on my bottom lip. I suck it in, letting my tongue graze over it, kissing it gently before releasing.

“I’m tired. It was a long flight.”

“Poor baby.”

“Yeah. I’m too tired for anything, but I want it.”

“You want… it?” she asks, and I hear the laughter thick in her voice now.

“Oh yeah. I definitely want it.”

“I see. So what do you suppose we should do? I mean, maybe you should nap before you get it.”

“I could. But I like my plan better.”

“And what is your plan, dare I ask?”

“I’m just gonna lay here and let you have your wicked way with me.”

“Is that right?”

“Yep. That’s it.”

“That sounds kind of boring for… me.”

“I have confidence in you. I think you’ll make sure you get yours, too.”

“How do you suppose I should start?” she asks, and I know she’s trying to sound deadly serious, but the slight laugh in her voice gives her away.

“Surprise me,” I tell her, then I lay completely back on the bed and see what she does next.

It’s fucking good to be home.

I study him for a minute. The smile on his face, the almost child-like happiness that oozes from him… and it feels good. It feels really good. Almost as if I’m the reason for it. For that reason alone, I feel another piece of my defenses completely fade away. I touch my lips to his, bringing them together gently, slowly. He tastes minty and warm with a touch of spice that I can only describe as Gray. It’s a taste that I know I won’t forget until the day I die. Gray takes my kiss and, though he drinks from my lips, he doesn’t offer his tongue or take it deeper. When I pull back, he’s smiling at me. If it wasn’t for the way his breath and heart rate have noticeably picked up, I wouldn’t be sure I affect him the way he does me. But the evidence is right there, and that gives me courage to touch his lips again, letting the tip of my tongue run along the outside of them. I push a little harder and my tongue slips inside. I immediately search his mouth for a deeper taste, for something to satisfy the need inside of me that is already raging with little more than a kiss.

I find his tongue and caress it with mine, slowly at first, but as more of his taste hits me, I lose myself in it and whimper as our tongues begin dancing. Gradually, our kiss becomes more heated. Less about remembering and savoring and more about need. We break apart and I take oxygen into my lungs, but my eyes are glued to his. I can’t tear them away even when I slide further down his body so that my lips can find his nipple. I capture it gently between my teeth, rolling it carefully. His hand comes up and tangles in my hair, tightening in it. I smile at the way I can so easily tell I’m getting to him. As a reward, I suck hard on his nipple, bringing it all the way in and using enough pressure so that it’s pressed against the roof of my mouth. His hand tightens to the point that it’s almost painful. I pull away anyway, kissing my way down his ribcage and even lower to that fantastic V outline pointing the way to his cock. His body is so well defined, it’s a work of art.

I drag my tongue along the outline, letting my teeth follow the same path as I give little love bites for the simple reason that the taste of him makes me feel powerful, sexy, and happy. I move further down so I can kiss his cock. It’s straining towards me, and I reward it with a gentle kiss on the head. That’s all I meant to do, but the taste of his pre-cum hits my tongue and the musky smell of him enters me, and I can’t stop myself from holding his cock in my hand and letting my tongue slide against the head and burrow into the small opening trying to find more of his pre-cum, needing his taste. Gray groans, and he must be tired of being passive because now his hands are digging into my hair harder as he urges my head down on him. As much as he takes control, I’m the one feeling powerful here. I give in and suck him deep into my mouth, stopping before I can take all of him in, because his cock hits the back of my throat.  He stretches my mouth, so swollen with need that I can barely close my lips around him. As I back him out and leave him with another gentle kiss on his head, Gray moans. His hips buck as he begs for more of my mouth.

I’m not in the mood to give him what he wants, though. Now, my needs come first. I have been craving him these past few weeks and I’m not about to deny myself a moment longer. I shift so I can move my leg over him, straddling him. I can’t stop the growl that comes out when I settle against him and his hard, hot dick slides between the lips of my pussy effortlessly.

“Fuck, baby, I’m glad you don’t wear a lot of clothes to bed,” he growls, and just to prove he’s telling the truth, he pulls the shirt over my head. I raise my hands, helping him. I’m eager for there to be nothing between us. His hands immediately come up and palm my breasts, kneading them—his touch, rough and eager, and his skin hot. I shift against his cock, rotating my hip and sliding so that I hit that perfect stroke—the one that eases him right against my clit and lets me ride him without taking him inside.

“God, you feel good, Gray,” I whimper.

“You’re soaked for me,” he growls, his hands biting into my thighs as he tries to pull me even tighter against him. He’s right. You can hear the suction between us as his cock forges through my cream. I ride him like that a few more times, gasping as his head rakes against my swollen clit, painting it with a mixture of his pre-cum and my own juices.

That’s the trigger that shows me I can’t take anymore. I rise up on my knees, reaching under me to hold his cock still. I position him just outside and look at him. I want this connection with him as I slide down his shaft. I carefully lower on him, taking my time to savor as he stretches me. My eyes close as he finally goes inside of me, filling what has been way too empty since I left him. Once I take him in as deep as he will go, so deep it makes it hard to breathe, I just stay there. I’m afraid to move, afraid to breathe. I want to savor the way he stretches me completely, the way we fit together, and just enjoy the peace of finally having him here with me. I’m not sure how long I’d want to stay like this, but Gray takes that choice out of my hands when he grabs my hips and grinds me against him. His cock flexes inside of me, raking against my walls and making me feel so full that I’m not sure I’ll survive.

“Gray,” I gasp. I brace my hands on his shoulders and slowly stretch out on him while his cock is still buried deep inside. The movement angles his cock in just the right spot and moves him so far inside, he’s touching spots of me that have never been touched before. He’s… claiming me in a way I’ve never experienced.

“It gets better every time,” Gray whispers right before his lips claim mine in a slow kiss. Our tongues mimic what our bodies do, slowly moving, relishing each other, cherishing each other… loving each other. We come together as our orgasm slides out of each of us as if we’re in tune, as if we’re one, and as I give myself over to it, I know I will never be the same again.

I love Gray Lucas. I love him.

“Loverboy is back with pizza,” Jackson calls, and I smile. Gray’s been back for three days and it seems all I do is smile. Jackson likes to give us both a hard time, but I can tell he likes him too. What’s not to like? Gray’s good-looking, dependable, funny, sweet, gentle when you need it, but not afraid to pull your hair… “Claude, did you hear me?” Jackson calls out again.

“Yeah, I heard you. Be there in a minute,” I yell back. You just caught me daydreaming about the man I’m head over heels in love with. That part I don’t yell back. Still I hear it inside, and though the fear is there, it’s getting easier and easier to breathe through it. I worried that Gray and I wouldn’t be able to work because we are so different, but with every day that passes, I think I worried for nothing. Gray may have to work with the likes of the Rivertons, but he’s not like them. He’s more like his crazy family, which I love. Even meddlesome Ida Sue who has taken to calling me once a week. She says it’s just to check on me, but I can read between the lines enough to know that it’s to see if I’m still boning her son. It makes it easier to figure out when she ends every conversation with: “I’ll talk to you next time, dear. Are you and Gray still shagging each other’s brains out? You know, the world is a better place if there are more kids in it.”

It used to unnerve me, but now I think of Ida as June Cleaver from the television classic Leave It To Beaver. Well, June Cleaver if she was a flower child who believed in free love. “Kids, you left your bong on the floor! Don’t forget your condoms tonight for the orgy. Your father and I will be there too! I’m making your father take those pills so he doesn’t get performance anxiety.” I laugh as I imagine my version of the television show, going to the old sink in the garage and washing my hands.

“What’s my woman laughing about?” Gray asks, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around me as he kisses the side of my neck.

I finish cleaning my hands and lean back into him for a minute, just letting him hold me and enjoying the moment. “Orgies and free love parties,” I whisper, grinning.

Gray’s lips freeze on the side of my neck and then he bites the skin there. I inhale at the sting.

“You can fucking forget that shit,” he grumbles, burrowing his head against the back of my neck and holding me tighter.

“What? I thought you liked that kind of thing? I’m not the one with the sex-tape out there, after all.”

“That was before,” he mutters, his hand moving down my stomach and trying to push up under my shirt. I help him because—let’s be honest—anytime Gray’s hands are on my bare skin, I’m good. I turn to the side a little though, wanting to see his face.

“Before what?”

“Before you, Cooper. You’ve reformed me, made me a better man.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Well, yeah. That, and I ain’t fucking sharing you with anyone. My dick is the last dick that pussy is ever going to squeeze the baby juice out of.”

“Baby juice?”

“Mmm-hmm,” he mutters, his lips on my neck.

“There’s my caveman. I thought he had gone all civilized on me.”

“I would have thought last night proved that theory wrong,” he mutters, and my freaking ovaries actually flutter when I think about the dirty little things he did to me last night. I’ll never look at that showerhead in my bathroom the same way again. Not to mention the mirror in my bedroom.

“You might should let go of me because you’re going to get filthy,” I warn him, suddenly remembering I just changed oil in a Toyota.

“Maybe I want to get dirty with you,” he says, but lets me go. I turn around to look at him and it hits me again that this man likes me. I apparently switched into another universe at some point. I hope I don’t have to leave. This world is much better.

“Later, Romeo. I need pizza first.”

“I thought I could give you your first golf lesson.”

“Umm, you do know I don’t especially like the game, right? Though, if you want to go out to the mini-golf park, I am killer on that course. Especially the windmill hole at the end. I always manage to get in with just one stroke.”

“Impressive,” he jokes, but he’s reaching over and taking my shirt off. I halfheartedly try to stop him.

“The trick is to get the ball under the little bridge. Most people try to go over top, but it never works,” I tell him, wondering exactly how to get away with having sex in the middle of the day in the garage where customers—and not to mention Jackson—could walk in at any time.

“I will have to learn from your ways, oh wise one,” he mumbles, reaching around to undo my bra.

“Gray! We can’t do this here. Jackson—”

“Took his pizza and his six pack I brought him and went into the office.”

“But he could come in and there could be customers…”

“You need to learn to live a little, Cooper. Life is way too short not to enjoy yourself once in a while.”

“Enjoy myself?”

“And learn new things.”

“Like golf?”

“Exactly,” he says, dipping his finger into the oil I just drained into the container beside him.

“Umm, Gray? What are you doing?”

“Getting ready to give you your first lesson,” he says, trailing his finger between my breasts and down my stomach. The sensation of the oil is cool and a little slimy, but his finger on my body and the way his breath hits my skin has a way of putting me on edge and instantly making me need him. I’m quickly becoming addicted to anything he wants to give me.

“This line is like the fairway on a golf course.”

“A fairway?” I whisper as he moves the oil over my nipples.

“The fairway is the beautiful trail straight to the hole,” he explains, unbuttoning my pants and pushing them down my hips.

“I don’t remember breasts and nipples on a golf course.”

“Those represent the small mounds on the course that can distract a driver.”

“Small mounds?” I ask, laughing.

“Well, I thought huge jugs didn’t sound as classy.”

“We can’t have that,” I tell him, letting my fingers move into his hair as he leans down on his knees in front of me.

“Now I’m going to tell you the secret to golf, sweet lips,” Gray says, kissing my thighs.

“What’s that?” I whimper, willing my legs to remain strong as I feel his breath so close to where I want his mouth the most.

“Every man wants a hole in one,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue along the inside of one of my thighs.

“Gray…” I whimper, my body thrusting towards him, needing more than what he’s giving me. “I don’t think that’s a big secret.”

“True, but I’m going to tell you exactly how to get it.”

“You are?”

I gasp as his hands move back to my ass and I feel him place a gentle, sweet kiss at the top of my pussy. My fingers tighten in his hair as I pull him closer, wanting to feel his tongue on my clit. I need the sensation I get when his entire face moves between my legs. I need so much more than what I’m getting and it frustrates me.

“You have to become one with the hole, meld with it.”

“Gray!” I cry as I feel him flatten his tongue and part the lips of my pussy, letting it drag against the sensitive skin there.

“That hole has to become all you think of. You can’t let anything distract you from driving inside of it,” he tells me.

“Baby, please. I need you to…”

“You can’t let yourself get distracted even when there’s an area above throbbing and begging for attention,” he murmurs, his voice muffled when he moves his tongue to my clit, stroking over it once, twice, three times, and then without warning, he sucks my clit into his mouth—hard.

My hands move down to Gray’s shoulders and I hold on, my entire body shaking. I know I’m close to shattering into a thousand pieces. I won’t be able to hold back. I’m not even going to try. I growl in annoyance when he pulls his head back. I lock eyes with him, and find that his are full of desire and mischief. He stands back up without giving me what I really want, and it pisses me off. I didn’t ask for him to get me all worked up and then leave me all horny and needy. I’m about to go off on him when I watch him unbutton his jeans.

“What are you doing?” I ask, even as he pushes his pants down and moves back to me.

“Showing you just how good I can drive to the hole,” he tells me, grabbing my leg and wrapping it high on his hip. “And all you have to do is hang on and enjoy the ride.”

I don’t respond. I can’t because he thrusts inside of me and all thought is gone. Nothing is left but sensation, pleasure, and need. Everything else ceases to exist. The garage, customers, the work, Jackson, it all fades away as I lose myself into the man who owns me. Everything is gone, and all that’s left for me is Gray.

“Do you think we might be having too much sex?” CC whispers as she sits back in the seat beside me on the plane. I just got back a minute before her. I think we played it all rather smoothly, really.

“Is there such a thing?” I ask her with a grin. “Besides, you weren’t complaining when I had you pinned against the door of the bathroom.”

“You couldn’t help but pin me. There wasn’t enough room in that bathroom for two people.”

“I think we need to go back in there. You didn’t complain as much. I mean, seriously, is this the thanks I get for making you a member of the mile-high club?”

She leans over and kisses me sweetly on the lips. “Thank you, Grayson Lucas, for inducting me into the mile-high club.”

“Much better. You’re welcome, sweet lips.”

She laughs and pulls away, rolling her eyes at me. “What do I make, anyway? Your, like, fiftieth inductee?”

“Ouch. I can’t remember. Since you came in my life, Cooper, I can’t remember a fucking woman before you.”

“That would be a better line if you said you couldn’t remember fucking a woman before me. Grammar is very important, Tarzan.”

“That’s what I meant. Stop being a pain in my ass,” I grumble, watching as my fingers play in her hair. I’ll never get enough of the beautiful auburn-gold color. It’s natural, unique, special… just like the woman who wears it. “I love your hair.”

“I like being a pain in your ass and I’m glad because, well, it’s kind of stuck on my head, y’know? Hard to change,” she jokes.

I look at her. She’s got a faint color in her cheeks as if she’s embarrassed. I need her to see the truth.

“I don’t want you to change anything about yourself, Cooper. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

“I think it’s only fair to tell you perfection doesn’t exist. Heck, even those abs you sport aren’t perfect. I think the last can in your six pack isn’t quite defined as the rest of them.” She grins, trying to shrug off the compliment.

“I’m serious, CC. You’re perfect to me… for me.”

“Gray…” she whispers, and I think she’s getting it. I can see the fear in her eyes, but there’s something else there and that’s what pushes me to take it a little farther. CC is new territory for me. Not only am I in love for the first—and last—time in my life, but she sure as fuck is not getting away. She’s also new territory because she’s the first woman I’ve ever met who is afraid to commit to me. She doesn’t trust people in general. I think that comes from her past and her mom. But she’s doubly afraid of me and it makes me ashamed of my past.  She brings it up sometimes when we’re joking and it feels like it doesn’t bother her, but still, the truth of it has hit her and has settled in her mind and that can’t be good. Still, this is the first time I’ve seen anything from her that might encourage me, so I have to start trying to break through.

“CC, you have to know you’re special to me,” I tell her—a fucking understatement of the year.

“I…” she starts, then stops. She looks at me and slowly nods. “I know, Gray. You’re special to me, too.”

Fuck, that’s such a simple statement, but with it, I feel better than winning any damned match or tournament has ever made me feel. It feels like fireworks are going off. I get lost in the feeling and push harder—which might be a mistake.

“I want everything with you, Cooper. Everything,” I tell her, laying it bare as gently as I can. Everything in me is wanting to tell her I want to give her my last name. I want kids with her. I want to grow old together. She’s the last face I want to see when I close my eyes and go into the next world. I’m pretty sure those words would scare the hell out of her.

“What if you’re disappointed?” she asks.

“If there’s one thing I’m one hundred percent sure of, Cooper, it’s that I could never be disappointed in you. Never.”

I hate seeing the fear in her eyes. I think it’s probably a good thing I never met her mother. I’d probably want to kill the woman. I bring CC’s face closer to mine and kiss her.

“You better get a quick nap in. We’ll land soon, and I’m going to need you again.”

“You cannot be serious.”

“Watch and see, sweet lips, watch and see,” I tell her with a wink. She watches me for a minute, then reclines her seat back to rest. I stare out the window wondering how in the hell I’m going to knock down all of CC’s walls. I may have to call my family in for reinforcements. They’re crazy as fuck, but they’re hard to resist and CC is already drawn to them.

I’ll figure it out somehow. I have to.

“Claude, I didn’t expect to see you here,” Cammie exclaims, and it’s a real struggle to keep myself from slapping her. If there was ever a woman in need of someone knocking some sense into her, it’d be Cammie.

“And yet, here I am,” I say with a shrug. I hear Gray snort in the background, but I don’t look at him. If I do, I’ll probably start laughing and I need to at least appear like an adult here. It’d be much easier to control myself if I could just slap her once. Okay, maybe twice. Three times, tops. “Did you want something, Cammie?”

“I was looking for Gray. I was hoping I could meet with him before the press conference this afternoon introduces him as the face of Riverton golf clubs and merchandise,” she says, sounding put-out. “It’s extremely important we present a united front and send this venture out with a bang,” she explains, but honestly, her voice is droning on so I’m tuning her out. I pull the door to my and Gray’s hotel room back to give her room to enter.

“I’m ready, Cammie. Just give me a minute to grab my jacket and tell CC bye.”

“Oh, no rush, Gray. I’m just excited to get this venture underway. With your face and our quality product, our clubs will become a household name,” Cammie says, and Gray turns his back on her and rolls his eyes. I grin. God, I love him. Shit.

“You sure you don’t want to go with us, sweetheart?”

“Of course she doesn’t, Gray. What on Earth would Claude do while we were talking to the press and deep in business? She’d be bored silly,” Cammie interjects.

I stick my tongue out at her. Sadly, the gesture is hid by Gray’s chest as he blocks me. He laughs, though. His hand rest on my hips and he looks at me when he answers Cammie.

“CC is very astute when it comes to business. I can always use her in my corner. I admire her.” The way he stresses the last part of that sentence is like a verbal blow that sails right over Cammie’s head.

“I suppose, but honestly, that little garage that Claude runs can hardly be compared to the millions we are dealing with. I doubt CC could imagine the money this contract between you and Riverton involves.”

I close my eyes and try to count backwards. I shove down the old insecurities which threaten to rise to the forefront. I’m not the innocent little girl that the Riverton’s nearly destroyed—not anymore.  I’ve been trying to play nice with Cammie and her father before I had Banger to worry about. Why do I care now? Why am I not lashing out? Habit? Do I still have the fear? Hell, maybe I just don’t care enough to try and defend myself.

“Cammie, do you have any idea how you sound when you talk?” Gray says, and I freeze. I look up at him and I can see anger and frustration on his face, but it’s not directed at me. It’s totally focused on Cammie. Wow…

“What? I’m sorry, Gray, I don’t mean to hurt Claude’s feelings…”

“You’re not,” I interject.

“You do,” Gray says at the same time, and I look up at him again. “Claudia Cooper is one of the smartest, most dependable women I know. I have no doubt she would have no trouble running a Fortune 500 company if she wanted and do it amazingly.”

“Yes, well… I think you might be exaggerating a little, Gray. But maybe we should just agree to disagree and make it to our press conference,” Cammie says.

“You do realize you just made me sound like a Volkswagen or something, right?” I chastise Gray, because honestly, his words blew me away. Unlike Cammie, I don’t think he was trying to get laid or just defend me; I think he truly believes them—and believes in me.

He kisses my forehead and laughs. “Always busting my ass, Cooper. You own my dick now. I think you get that to me, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“To you? So you’re saying other men wouldn’t do the same?”

“Jesus,” he grumbles, shaking his head.

“I think I’ll just meet you at the meeting. I can tell you’re not in the mood to listen to anything logically.”

“No, he’s leaving now,” I tell her, but all my focus is still on Gray.

“I am?”

“Yeah. I’m thinking of calling Apple. Their stocks fell last quarter. I’m going to pull them out of their dark tunnel and show them the light.”

“I’m going to spank your ass when I get back,” he grumbles, giving me a quick kiss and then walking to the door with Cammie following him like an obedient little dog.

“I’ll look forward to it, Lucas.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Cooper,” Gray says over Cammie’s exaggerated huff of breath.

“Go knock ‘em dead and leave me to my financial planning,” I tell him. He winks and then closes the door as they leave. I just stand there watching the door with a sappy look on my face. Then, I do something every teenager does when the boy they like picks them for the prom—or what I imagined they did, because I was never that girl: I run to the bed and jump on it, squealing.

“What are you doing?” I ask Cammie once the press conference is over. It went really well, I suppose. I’m always kind of lost at these things. Since CC, honestly, I’m getting kind of bored with it all. Golf isn’t even fun anymore; it’s a means to an end. When did that start? Once I get this tournament behind me, I think I may take a year off. Hell, maybe I’ll buy that farm across from Blue. Would CC like to live on a farm? Would she be willing to let go of her garage? I could live in Kentucky. I wouldn’t hate it, though it wouldn’t be my first choice. Still, if I get CC in exchange, I could live there happily. Decisions… I need to make some decisions.

“Texting father some information he needs to know. He asks that we meet him in the south banquet room for lunch with the stockholders.”

“I need to get back to CC, then I will. She’s probably hungry, too…”

“Father was called away on business, Gray. Surely you can go make an appearance and then go find CC, right? So they aren’t left alone?”

I frown, wondering if Cammie is up to something, but since she’ll be glued to my side, I figure it’s safe.

“Fine,” I tell her, and I know I sound like a sulking child, but the last thing I want to do is spend more time with Cammie Riverton. I really want to get back to CC. My phone rings and I look down at the number and grin. “I need to take this. It’s my manager,” I tell Cammie, already answering the phone.

“Fine, I’ll meet you over by the door,” she says, but I’m already turning away from her to grab the phone.

“Manager? Fuck that shit,” White says. “I ain’t wiping your ass, doesn’t matter how much the job pays.”

“Always great to hear from you, brother, and the day you have to wipe my ass better be the day they put me in the ground.”

“Same goes. How the hell are you?”

“Great, fucking great.”

“Still pussy-whipped over that sexy piece from Kentucky?”

“Sewn up, signed, sealed, and delivered,” I tell him with a grin.

“It’s nauseating how quickly you’ve fallen. Shit, you’ll be like Green before you know it,” he says. The reminder of my brother and his situation cuts like always.

“That won’t happen. We all know what a piece of work he married. CC is nothing like Marissa.”

“Sure as fuck hope not. You know that bitch had the nerve to ask him for money last week?”

“You’re kidding? He pays a mint in child support. Hell, with what he pays her, I could retire on a beach in Greece living the good life.”

“My words exactly. Well, except the Greece thing. You really need to visit the islands more, little bro.”

“Whatever. Want to tell me why you’re calling?”

“A friendly warning.”

“Warning?”

“Yep. Mom, Petal, and Maggie have all been talking to CC pretty regular.”

“I know. CC really likes them,” I tell him with a grin. In my book, that’s just another sign she’s nothing like Marissa. Marissa couldn’t stand anything about our family or, fuck, anything in Green’s life, really.

“Yeah, well, they’re coming to Georgia to watch your next tournament.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“I thought that would cheer you up.”

“You sound awful fucking cheerful about it.”

“I’ve got to say, I’m enjoying the idea of you dealing with that crew on your own. Plus, hah, I have the place to myself for the next week.”

“You still mending up okay?” I ask because he fucked his shoulder up bad.

“Yeah, I’m good. Hopefully I’ll get the ‘all clear’ in a week or so.”

I look over and see Cammie looking at me like she’s having a stroke, pointing to her watch. “Listen, bro, I better get going. I have another damn meeting to go to.”

“You’re starting to sound more corporate than easygoing pro. It’s fucking sad, really.”

“Later, White.”

“Later, G. Good luck in Georgia.”

“I don’t need luck. I got this.”

“Whatever,” he says, hanging up. I do the same, putting my phone in my pocket and heading towards Cammie. I actually like that my family is coming. It might be interesting to see how they deal with the Rivertons. Maybe I can get Petal’s little boy to pee on Cammie and her father. CC would enjoy that.

At the thought of my woman, I grin, even as Cammie smiles at me.

“What, did Tarzan forget he had to have a card to make the doors work?” I laugh when there’s pounding on the door. I heard it when I was in the shower and jumped out, wrapping myself in a towel and half-jogging to the door. When he pounds on the door again, I open it. “Really, Gray, give me a minute, I was taking a—” I stop when I look up to see David Riverton standing there. “What are you doing here?” I ask, frozen because he was the last person I expected.

“I can see you are just like your mother. Really, Claudia, this is an upscale hotel. You could at least wear a robe when answering the door.”

“What do you want?”

“I think it’s time we had a talk.”

“I think we said all we had to say to each other when Banger got sick.”

“Apparently not because here you are causing problems yet again.”

“I don’t see how. I’ve barely spoken to you. Now, if you’d be kind enough to leave, Gray will be home in a little while. You’re welcome to return then and talk to him,” I tell him, moving to close the door. I knew I wouldn’t get off that easy when he raises his hand and keeps me from closing it in his face. I’d force the issue, but I’m holding onto the towel with my other hand.

“That’s just it, Claudia. This isn’t a home. This is a hotel. You’re here not because you are a guest of the hotel, but merely because you’re sleeping with a guest. You being here puts your face and your very existence too close for comfort for my business, and that can’t happen. We had a deal. Do I need to remind you?”

I really don’t want to have this conversation. I don’t want to have my air mixing with the likes of David Riverton. Apparently, however, God isn’t looking down deciding I need a freak tornado to swoop down and suck the asshole into another universe. So, I back away. If I have to talk to him, I’m at least doing it with clothes on.

“I remember every detail of our last meeting, daddy dear. I don’t need a refresher course,” I tell him, flippantly going to the bathroom.  I jump when I hear the door slam behind me, but luckily, I’m in the bathroom and my reaction is hidden from him. I guess the “daddy” barb struck home. Good.

“I told you to never fucking utter those words. Your slut of a mother trapped me, thinking she could use you as leverage for money.”

Oooh, he cursed! I guess I did score a direct hit.

“Well, I guess you showed her. Oh, wait. You did give her money. Tell me again, how much did you pay my mother to skip town with her mouth shut?”

“Apparently not enough to make sure she took you with her.”

“Yeah, you totally overestimated good old Margaret’s maternal instinct with that one,” I half-joke, coming back through the room with a t-shirt and shorts on. I’m running a towel through my hair, wondering how long it will take before Riverton grows tired and leaves. I really can’t handle him. Today started off so well, too.

“How sad it must be to know that no one really wants you. Even that broken down old biker mostly just put up with you. He felt sorry for you, I suppose.”

And just like that, his words strike like a dagger into the pit of my stomach. David Riverton is a king at knowing exactly how to wound an opponent. It’s how he got to where he is in life.

“I’m not discussing Banger with you. You don’t deserve to even mention his name. If you came here to remind me that I’m the scum beneath your gardener’s fingernails, I got it. I got that message a long time ago, Daddy. I don’t need it again. You’re just wasting your time.”

“I came to tell you that you need to tell Gray you’ve changed your mind and leave him alone and return to Kentucky.”

“What? Why in hell would I do that?”

“Because if you don’t, I’ll destroy that damn garage you came and begged me to save years ago.”

“The garage is mine. I paid the last payment on it three years ago,” I tell him—damn proud of that fact. “There’s nothing you can do to it now.”

I’m trying to sound self-assured, but I’m not. The truth is, I’m scared. Riverton has money, and with money comes power. When Banger’s medical expenses were destroying us, we took out a second loan from a high rate lender. They paid off the first part of the medical bills while Banger was in remission. When the cancer came back with a vengeance and we had both loans and more medical bills piling up, I swallowed my pride and bargained with the only thing I had to keep it: the dirty truth. Riverton gave me the money in exchange for my signature on documents stating that I would never reveal the truth about my mother’s sperm donor. I paid off the second loan with the money and have been working like hell to pay off the original loan ever since. I got it done and the place is completely mine, now… I hope. Something in his eyes tells me it’s not going to be that easy.

“You know how I know there’s none of me in you, Claudia?”

“I haven’t grown horns and a pointy tail yet?”

“You didn’t even bother reading the contract that you signed.”

“I did,” I tell him, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.

“The details are always in the fine print. Specifically in this case, the one that says, if at any time I find you are no longer abiding by our terms set forth in the contract that I will demand the entire two hundred and fifty thousand dollars back or you will hand over the deed to the garage.”

His words rob me of air. There’s no way I would have signed that, right? But then again, I think back to when I was a kid who felt like she was drowning. I hated coming to Riverton and I knew that I was going to lose Banger—no matter what I did. I just wanted to make sure he was comfortable. I wanted him… not to worry.

“I… don’t believe you,” I lie. Oh, God. What have I done?

“But I think you do.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve not violated the terms of our agreement.”

“But you have. You’re insinuating yourself into my life and interfering with my business. You’re causing problems for my daughter—my true daughter.”

“I haven’t! I haven’t done anything to Cammie!” I growl, and I hate that I can hear desperation in my voice.

That’s when Riverton plays his trump card and I should have known he had one. He brings out a manila envelope he had under his arm. He opens it up and takes out some photos he had inside, throwing them on the coffee table between us. I lean down and pick one up. It’s a grainy photo obviously taken from a security camera which shows me entering an employee-only entrance at the country club back home. The others show me in the room. There’s even one that shows me turning the sprinklers on. Several others are pictures of Gray and Cammie. I look at them and then back up at the monster who fertilized the egg I was unlucky enough to hitch a ride on.

“I think that picture would tell all the story I need. Don’t you?”

“Get out,” I tell him, my voice quiet as the implications of what this could mean settle upon me.

“I’ll expect you to disappear from Grayson Lucas’s life before the tournament in Georgia next week,” he says calmly, gathering up the photos.

“You can’t make me do that.”

“I thought that would be your answer, so here’s your official notice. I foreclose on your garage at the end of the month, unless it’s paid in full. I hope being Lucas’s whore is worth your garage, CC, because that’s all you are. Men never pick women like you permanently. I had to explain that to your mother, too.”

“Get the fuck out of here!” I yell, grabbing wildly and throwing something from the table at him. I shouldn’t have bothered because once he has the photos, he’s gone, leaving only the foreclosure papers and likely feeling secure in the knowledge that he’s destroyed my world.

What do I do now?

“You okay, Cooper?”

“Yeah. Why do you ask?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t know if you realize this, but you’ve barely said two words.”

“I’m just eating, Gray.”

“Really? Because all your food still seems to be on your plate.”

“Okay, fine,” she sighs, pushing her plate around. “Some things came up at home today and I need to get back and try to figure them out.”

“Well, that’s clear as mud.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” she says with another sigh. I study her face. She looks so lost. I want to shake her for not letting me in.

“Try me.”

“The shop. It… appears there was a problem with the loan, and instead of having it paid off, there’s an… an outstanding balance now.”

“Let me pay it.”

“Gray!”

“What? I have it, and the garage is important to you. I can pay it. Problem solved.”

“No. Problem is not solved. I’ll deal with it. We’re going back to Kentucky tomorrow anyway.”

“Can you promise me one thing?”

“Depends on what it is,” she says, smiling a little.

“If you can’t work it out that you will at least consider taking the money from me, it can be a loan. You can pay me back, if you insist.”

“Gray, you don’t even know how much it is.”

“I don’t really give a fuck, CC. You’re important to me. Not the money. And if I win the tournament in Georgia, I can buy three garages once I put that with the money I got from signing the Riverton contract.”

“You’d really do that?”

“Definitely. You don’t seem to have grasped it yet, sweet lips, but this thing between us is special. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here and I’m staying here.”

“Sometimes, life throws curveballs that are beyond our control, Gray.”

“Good thing for you that I’ve become a master at learning just how to hit balls so they curve the way I want them to.”

“Ouch. That was a really bad pun.”

“They can’t all be gold. How about you give up pretending to eat and I take you back to the hotel and ravage you.”

She drops her fork in her plate and grins at me—and this one almost reaches her eyes. “I was hoping you would suggest that.”

I throw some money on top of the bill the waitress left earlier, then get up and walk over to her seat, pulling it back and helping her up.

“I do aim to please,” I tell her, kissing her lips gently. “It’s going to be okay, Cooper. I promise. I will always be here for you.”

She hooks her hand against my jaw and looks into my eyes. Then she burrows her head into my neck, placing a gentle kiss on my chest.

“I could love you, Grayson Lucas,” she whispers, and it feels so close I can almost taste it.

“I’m counting on it, sweet lips. I’m counting on it,” I tell her, trying to swallow down the emotion that’s choking me. CC doesn’t know it yet, but I’ve made it my goal that she falls in love with me. I’ll do everything in my power to make it happen. I’m keeping her.

Forever.

“I’m sorry, CC. There’s nothing I can do. The contract clearly states the terms of the loan and I’d say the pictures you described would sway a jury or a judge.”

I hold my head down, the phone away from my ear. Mack is a local lawyer in town and, as lawyers go, he’s about the only one I trust not to rat me out to Riverton. He is new to the area, having moved here after marrying Belinda, a local girl who’s a few years older than me.

“So I’m royally fucked?” I ask, my eyes still closed.

“The only alternative is to take out a loan on the bank again. The garage would clearly be worth that.”

“You forget one thing, Mack.”

“What’s that?”

“Riverton owns all the local banks. You don’t think he’s already put word out against me?”

“You really think he’d go that far?”

“I know so.”

“What about an online lender? Or a national bank?” he suggests.

“I’ll try it, but my personal credit rating isn’t that great.”

“I’m sorry my news isn’t better, CC. Hell, I’m even sorrier I wasn’t around to keep you from signing this ridiculous contract.”

“It doesn’t matter. Back then… even now, I would have signed anything if it meant making sure Banger would keep from worrying and be able to die in peace.”

“He was a lucky man to have you. There’s still a small chance we can go to court and win because of the outrageous contract terms and your age.”

“Yeah,” I answer him, but I know that’s not going to happen. For one, I don’t think I could handle court and having my mom’s sordid past out everywhere. For another, I doubt there’s anything like a fair trial around here.

“I do my banking in Lexington. Go talk to a Jim Graves there. Tell him I asked you to contact him. See what he can do.”

I write the name down with little hope, then Mack and I say our goodbyes.

I’ve only been back in Kentucky for a couple days. I’ve had trouble breaking away from Gray to try and figure out what to do with the garage. If I told him, he’d buy it. That’s tempting. Fuck, it is. But, I can’t let him do that. This is my problem, not his, and I’m not about to ask a man I… care about… to bail me out of a mess I made. That reeks of something my mother would have done and that’s not who I am—or ever will be.

I need to talk to Jackson and warn him. He deserves a heads-up. I’m just not sure I know how to tell him. Telling Mack was bad enough. It made it sink in deeper. It made it real. I’m going to lose Banger’s garage. I don’t care so much for myself, but the thought of his legacy being gone… of giving up my home for Riverton to tear down and put another Cash-n-Dash store or something else equally stupid kills me. I feel so stupid for signing that damn contract. I wasn’t lying to Mack; back then, I would have signed a deal with Lucifer himself if it meant making sure Banger could die in peace. Too bad that’s exactly who Riverton turned out to be.

“Woman, you’re making us late!” Gray says, sticking his head in the door. He looks so happy and he says I’m the one who makes him that way. What happens when I fuck this up, too? What happens when he discovers I’m not worth sticking around for? I do my best to plaster on a smile. I can’t let on to him that my whole world is crashing down around me.

“I told you I had business to do, Crayon Man.”

“I know, I’m just anxious,” he says, coming further inside. He walks over by my desk and sits on it, ignoring the papers that litter it. “Hey, you okay, sweet lips?” He bends down to study my face.

“Just tired,” I tell him, trying to joke it off. “You’re wearing me out.”

“Well, I was pretty spectacular last night, if I do say so myself. What was it… three or so world-shattering orgasms?”

“Stop bragging. Nobody likes a show-off.”

“That’s not what you were saying last night,” he grins, and even as down as I am, I have to smile a little. He’s crazy. “Seriously, are you okay? All joking aside, you don’t look happy or tired. You look like you… want to cry. And that’s not a look I want my woman to have ever.”

“Your woman? Careful, Tarzan is showing his loin cloth again.”

“I’m serious, Jane… I mean CC.” He winks. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“It’s just work, Gray. I told you the garage was having some financial issues. I’m just trying to wade through and figure out how to fix it.”

“Let me give you the money.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening. I’ve been in business a long time and weathered some pretty rough storms. This is just a minor bump,” I lie. “I’ll get through it.”

“My beautiful CC. Always so independent. Are you ever going to let your guard down enough to let me take care of you?” he asks, pulling our faces closer. I close my eyes and let his warmth and the feeling of having him nearby combine and cocoon me. His words are beautiful and he’ll never know how much I wish I could trust them enough to try. But though Gray is one hundred percent honest in his offer, he doesn’t know me yet. Not really. It’s just a matter of time when he finds out what my mother, and everyone else I’ve loved, had already discovered. I’m not the kind of girl worth a forever commitment. Even my own ‘father’ knows that. I might be Riverton’s biological daughter, but what kind of monster would do this even to an illegitimate child?

“You took care of me last night. Remember?” My thoughts are bordering on self-pity and, though it’s tempting, I can’t go there. It’s time to stiffen my back. I don’t want Gray to see how low I really am.

“Oh, sweet lips, I definitely remember.”

“We have thirty minutes before we’re meeting your mother at the airport. If you were to hurry, I’d say you could take care of me again.”

“You sure, C?” He pulls away to look at me again. “I mean, not that I wouldn’t love to, but you don’t actually seem in the mood for sex.”

“I am,” I assure him, reaching down to massage his already half-hard cock through his pants. “I’m more than sure. When you make love to me, Gray, I forget everything else around us. Everything in the world stops and it’s just you and me. I really need that right now.”

“CC…”

“Come on, Gray,” I urge him, standing up and taking my clothes off while he sits there and watches. “Show me that nine-iron the world brags about.” I grin. When I have my clothes off, I look up at him. “Besides, there’s something I’ve always wanted to try and never have.”

“Fuck,” he groans as I reach over and pet the hard outline of his cock, squeezing it. “What’s that, baby?” he asks, his voice muffled because he’s standing up and undoing his pants.

“Being bent over my desk and fucked hard,” I tease him, leaning over and sticking my ass out to tempt him even more.

“Christ. You’re perfect, CC. Have I ever mentioned that?” His hands bite into the cheeks of my ass, pulling them apart.

A few seconds later, Gray gives me what I need, and I was right. Everything but the two of us ceases to exist as he slides into me and makes the world disappear.

“Please tell me you did not just have sex on CC’s kitchen table,” I state, already knowing they did and just hoping someone can deny it so I can try and live in ignorance.

“It’s a strong table, dear,” Ida Sue says, buttoning up her shirt.

“Almost as good as the one back home,” Janson agrees as I hang my head down in shame. I would be completely humiliated if I didn’t hear CC’s muffled laugh. I look over at her and her head is hiding in the back of my arm, her body moving in mostly silent laughter. She’s been so down that, just like that, I forget the fact that my mother just had sex on my girlfriend’s table and I’m thankful they’ve cheered her up.

“Don’t laugh. You’ll just encourage them.”

“Janson doesn’t need encouragement, dear. They make those pills now that do that.”

“Mom! For Christ’s sake.”

“You know how I feel about you bringing the Lord in your foul language,” she grumbles.

I love my mom, but her mind constantly leaves me scratching my head. If the Lord would be upset with me for using his name, I’m not sure how he’s supposed to feel about my mom having sex on a kitchen table with her boyfriend.

“Lovey, damn it. You aren’t supposed to tell anyone about those damn pills.”

“Relax, Jansen. Gray and CC are family and there’s nothing wrong with having to prime the pump. If Gray isn’t already doing it, he’ll probably have to soon. He’s not getting any younger either.”

“Mom, do you think you can reel it in before you scare CC off?”

“Dear, CC is not going anywhere. Are you CC?”

“Well, I mean…”

“A blind man could see that she loves you,” she says. I hear CC’s gasp and squeeze her into me encouragingly. “Please tell me you’ve told that girl how you feel about her,” Ida Sue scolds.

“I haven’t wanted to scare her,” I try to explain.

“Horse shit. I ought to set your ears on fire, son. A woman likes to know how a man feels about her. She needs to know she can depend on you. That she matters.”

“She matters, Mom.”

“I know that, son, but it’s not me you’re knocking boots with. You need to tell her,” she says, crossing her arms.

“I think I’d better go. I’m going to be late. You sure…” CC starts, her body tense.

I might want to strangle my mother right now, but the door is open and not saying anything will give her the wrong idea. I turn her to me, holding her neck gently, letting my thumb sweep across her chin.

“You matter, CC.”

“Gray, come on. Your Mom means well, but you don’t have to say…”

“I love you, Claudia Cooper. I’ve loved you forever.”

Her face goes white, and she trembles a little in my arms.

“Gray…”

“I love you, sweet lips.”

“About damn time,” Ida Sue says, slapping me on the back and jarring my attention from CC, but not before I can use my thumb to gently drag away a couple of the small tears that have fallen from her eyes. “Now, I want to see this garage I’ve been hearing so much about.”

“Ida Sue, are you sure? It’s liable to be pretty boring,” CC tells her while trying to clear her throat and button down the emotions that are showing on her face.

“Nonsense. I get to spend the day with my new daughter. How can that be boring?” Ida Sue counters. CC’s eyes jerk to mine and I just smile to try and calm her as best as I can. Ida Sue is a tornado; it’s best she learns that now.

“Well… if you’re sure,” CC says, sounding a little lost.

“Definitely.”

“We should head out then. I have a phone conference I can’t miss this morning. Gray, I…”

I kiss her before she can say something I might not want to hear. It’s a brief kiss and nothing like I would give her if my mother and Jansen weren’t around.

“Jansen and I will pick you up around three this afternoon. We’re going to look at the scenery and maybe go out on the course for a bit. I need to keep my stroke in perfect form before the big tournament.”

CC hugs me tight, her lips get close to my ears. “I can confirm that your stroke is more than perfect, Crayon Man.”

I kiss her gently on her forehead with a laugh. “Always busting my ass. See you soon.”

“See you soon.”

I stand beside Jansen as CC and Mom head out. The door has been closed for ten minutes before I finally shake off the feeling of contentment that thrums through my veins and I only do it then because Jansen demands my attention.

“Let’s get a move on, son.”

I nod agreement, but I’d rather follow my woman to that garage and spend the day with her.

I stare at the phone as the last amount of hope I had fades. Mack’s bank wouldn’t help at all. I kind of expected it, but I was still… dreaming. I was dreaming. There’s going to be no magic way out of this and there’s not one to blame but me. Would Banger be as disappointed in me as I am in myself?

“What the hell are you doing here?” I hear growling outside my office. At first I’m afraid Ida Sue has done something, but that’s Jackson yelling. With a deep breath, I go outside, wondering what my next catastrophe is. “I asked what the fuck you were doing here?”

“Do you have a problem with this man, Claudia dear?” Ida Sue asks. I don’t turn to look at her, though. I’m busy staring into the eyes of David Riverton. He’s here, at my garage. He’s with three other men, all dressed in suits, though the other three don’t look nearly as expensive.

“What are you doing here, Mr. Riverton?” I ask, doing my best to keep my voice civil, but not entirely successful.

“I’ve brought by the company engineers.”

“And why the fuck would you do that?” Jackson growls.

“Because they want to get some early measurements in.”

“Why would they need measurements?” I ask, fear curling tight in my stomach.

“Oh. I forgot to tell you the plans I have for this place, didn’t I?”

“You can take your plans and stick them up your ass where the sun doesn’t shine. That’s what you can do with your plans. Claude isn’t about to sell this place to the likes of you,” Jackson yells, and that sick feeling in my stomach only gets worse. I know the color is gone from my face.

“Oh my, it seems you’re keeping secrets from your employees, Claudia. I take it he doesn’t know. I completely understand. Though, you might want to explain it to him soon. That way, instead of showing up here to a job he doesn’t have anymore, he can go straight to the unemployment office. Honestly, he might want to go there sooner. However, I suppose I will be hiring a few when I take over.”

“You’re going to run a garage? I have trouble seeing that,” I tell him, ignoring the way Jackson is staring at me.

“A garage? Good heavens, no! I’m going to be demolishing the garage. I’m going to be turning this place into a landfill station.”

“You’re what?”

“It seemed apt that it becomes a place for garbage, since that’s exactly what built it to begin with.” His verbal blow is delivered hard, striking me and momentarily robbing me of breath. He’s never been a father to me. The fact that he’s putting me through all this is proof enough of that. Still, it’s hard to hear the man who fathered you call you garbage.

“I think you’d better leave,” Ida Sue says, coming to my side and wrapping her arm around my shoulders as if to protect me. She can’t really, not from the cold hate that lies between me and David Riverton, but it’s good she’s here. Right now, I’m not sure I could keep standing if she wasn’t giving me support. I feel Jackson move in on my other side. He has to know I’ve fucked up, but he’s still here. I try and hold on to that.

“Oh. Gray’s mother, right? Ida Joe, Right? Perhaps you can see now just what type of woman your son has gotten himself involved with.”

“I can, and I completely approve. His choice in business partners, however, I’ll definitely need to talk with him about.”

“I have heard that your past is rather colorful. I guess your reaction shouldn’t surprise me,” Riverton replies. “Bad blood always shows. Maybe I need to find a new face of Riverton Metals before your offspring can tarnish it.”

“Why, you son of a bitch! You want to lock horns with me? Feel free. But you better be ready for what you’re inviting. I can’t–”

“Leave,” I order him, interrupting Ida Sue.

“I don’t think I want to right now,” he retorts. “I’m finding this is kind of fun.”

“Leave or I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”

“Fuck, yeah,” Jackson grumbles.

“This place is mine. The paperwork is a mere formality.”

“You don’t have possession of it yet, and if you don’t leave, I’ll call Sheriff Tykes and press charges for trespassing,” I tell him, proud that my voice is firm. For some reason, I’m feeling stronger. I’m intent on Riverton, and for that reason, I don’t even notice that Ida Sue isn’t beside me anymore. And because I’m not watching her, I’m completely taken by surprise when she blasts Riverton with the water hose that’s hooked up.

“Ida Sue!” I yell, astonished and laughing despite being horrified. Riverton doesn’t need more reason to destroy me.

“I’m just hosing down the place, sweetie. The stench of the garbage was starting to make me sick.”

Riverton is yelling out that I’ll be sorry, but when Ida Sue aims the hose full-force right at his face, he shuts up and takes off running with his buddies. Ida Sue lets up on the trigger of the water hose nozzle. No one talks for a few minutes. I think Jackson might be too mad, I’m afraid. That leaves Ida Sue. My eyes go to her and I wish I could read her better.

“I think it’s time we talked, Claudia,” she says.

“I do, too,” Jackson says, and the hurt in his voice almost undoes me.

“Ida Sue, I probably should talk to Jackson alone. I owe it…”

“Nonsense. We’re family now. Now, I don’t know what’s going on and I’m pretty sure my son doesn’t know. If he did and he’s still doing business with that snake in the grass, then I’m going to rip him a new asshole.”

“He doesn’t know,” I confess.

“I can only assume you have a reason for that, dear. But you, I, and Jackson here are going to talk, and for now, we’ll keep it between the three of us. We’re going to have to figure things out soon, however, because that sad waste of ball sweat will be back and I’d lay odds he’ll only get meaner,” she says. I look over at Jackson and he’s nodding his head in agreement. I take a breath and agree.

“Okay. Let’s go talk in my office, though. I think people on the street have seen enough for one day.”

As the three of us walk back into the garage, nervousness floods through me. I know they’re right. I do need to talk about this. I need to find a way to tell not only them, but Gray too. I just don’t know if I can handle feeling everyone’s disappointment on top of everything else.

Especially Gray’s.

“The trick is the follow-through. See, if you choke your hold on the driver, you’re not allowing the force to hit the ball and you’re just not going to get a long drive,” I tell CC, adjusting her hands on the club and pulling her back into my body as close as I can.

“Is that a golf ball in your pocket back there, Crayon Man?”

“Ouch. Golf ball? Couldn’t you at least call it a putter or something? I mean, I’m just asking for a little respect here.”

“I didn’t realize you were so insecure,” she says, wiggling her ass against my dick. It doesn’t matter that I’m wearing slacks or that she has a skirt and panties on; when I get close to her and she rubs against me like that, I am instantly hard as a rock.

“Quit trying to make me spank your ass, Cooper. Now pay attention to your lesson.”

“Not that I’m not loving my lesson… and other things,” she says, pushing her ass against me, “but shouldn’t you be resting up for day two? I mean, you’re a few strokes behind the leaders. I’m not sure what all that means, but I don’t want to be the reason you’re too tired…”

“Do I feel too tired to you, Cooper?”

“You never feel too tired, but despite your other super hero attributes, you’re only human, Gray Lucas. Maybe you should sleep.”

“You could wear me out and then maybe I’ll nap.”

“We could go back to the hotel,” she suggests, turning in my arms to look at me. She’s wearing a cute little outfit complete with a short skirt, and I’ve been dying to fuck her since I first saw her in it. She’s been better the last couple of days. Ever since Ida Sue came in, actually. Those two have become thick as thieves and whatever Ida Sue has done, she’s somehow worked magic and CC seems less stressed about work. She still won’t tell me what’s going on, but she says she has it handled, and I guess that’s all I need to know. I offered to help; that’s all I can do.

“What if I told you I’m not sure I can make it back to the hotel?”

Her eyes dilate and she looks around the course nervously. There are a few people out today, but not many. I don’t know where Riverton or Cammie have gone the last couple of days, but it’s been nice not having them around. I’m regretting ever listening to Seth about getting Riverton’s sponsorship. It might have been harder to get where I am now, but I would have done it. I’ve actually been talking to my lawyer to see if he could get me out of the contracts with Riverton. I don’t know the full story with Cammie, but I know enough to know she and her father don’t respect my woman, and that is not acceptable. Not now… not ever. My need to advance caused me to overlook that for a little bit. That will not happen again. There’s nothing more important than CC to me, and that includes this tournament or any future ones. Without CC, I don’t care if I ever golf again.

“Gray, it’s broad daylight and the tournament… it’s crowded,” she whispers worriedly.

“It was earlier. Now everyone has gone home. C’mon, Cooper. Live dangerously.”

“I’m beginning to hate it when you say that to me. It never ends well.”

“This time, it will. I make sure you’ll get a happy ending.”

She rolls her eyes at me and I can’t help laughing. But she reaches out her hand, which is a yes, and that’s all that counts. I take her hand in mine and begin leading her to the edge of the woods.

Time to show my woman how much fun a golf course can really be.

I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’ve been through a lot this last week, so maybe I’ve finally cracked under the pressure. Maybe it’s the fact that Gray makes me feel like a teen again. Back when sex was new, emotions were honest and raw, and life held more promise. Back before reality slowly chipped away at my dreams.

It’s been a rough week. Ever since the run-in with Riverton, I’ve been scrambling trying to figure things out. Ida Sue has taken control, though. She told me she had some connections in Texas with a bank and getting the loan wouldn’t be a problem. My lawyer told me that as long as I don’t give Riverton further reasons to foreclose, I have until the end of the month, according to the notice he gave me in the hotel. That gives me almost three weeks, and Ida Sue assures me it will be done way before then. I owe her so much. There’s no way I would have gotten a bank in Texas to save me if it hadn’t been for her.

So in the meantime, I’m staying away from Cammie and her father—from everyone here at the tournament, really. I spend my time with Ida Sue and Gray’s crazy family, and Ida Sue is helping me to find ways to avoid business dinners and networking luncheons. The last press conference, I declared a migraine, but it’s getting harder and harder to make sure Gray doesn’t know something is going on—a fact Ida Sue is not totally happy with. According to her, she doesn’t want her “little boy” doing business with people like that. He’s too “innocent” to know how people work. I have to laugh. I know they say a mother’s love is blind, but there’s nothing little or innocent about Grayson Lucas.

Case and point: He leads me to the edge of the woods where there’s a hole of sand.  He helps me step down into it with this big grin on his face.

“Time to strip,” he says.

“Um… I don’t think so,” I tell him, looking around. “I’m not getting butt-ass naked in a sand dune on a public course. There were hundreds of people here today, Crayon Man.”

“They’re gone now.”

“Not all of them.” My eyes go wide as he starts to strip. “Gray!”

“We’re in no-man’s zone. It’s a bunker, by the way, not a dune. I really need to teach you more about golf.”

“Whatever. You aren’t getting me to lay down here and have sex with you.”

“You aren’t going to throw caution to the wind? C’mon, CC. Live—”

I put my hand over his mouth, not letting him finish. “I told you to quit saying that. It never turns out well. Besides, it’s easy for you to say that. It won’t be you who has sand crawling up their ass.”

“I got a plan for that.”

“You do?”

He nods, laying his pants and shirt down for a makeshift mattress. Then he looks up with a sly look on his face. “Your chariot awaits, my mistress.”

“My chariot?”

“You got it, babe, because I’m about to take you on the ride of your life.”

“You really are ridiculous, you know?”

“But I make you smile,” he says, and this time he’s completely serious. He’s looking at me and I get the feeling he sees deeper than anyone has ever bothered to before. “I make you laugh.”

“You do,” I tell him. Then, something spurs me on, and before I can stop myself, I’m admitting to something I normally wouldn’t. “You make me happy.”

His eyes close for a second, and then he’s holding the side of my neck, his lips close to mine.

“That’s all I want in the world, Cooper. That’s all,” he whispers before taking my mouth in a sweet kiss. It’s different from any we’ve really shared before. It’s filled with emotion.

When we break apart, I lift my shirt over my head. Suddenly where we’re at is not half as important as being with him.

I make her happy.

It’s not admitting she loves me, but it still makes me feel as if I’m on top of the world. I help her undress, making sure we’re still alone. There’s a reason I’ve led her out here away from everyone and everything. I want CC to experience letting go and being free, but I don’t especially want others to see her. That’s all mine. She’s all mine.

I help her lie down on my clothes and then lie beside her. I move my hand down her neck and over her breasts. Her nipples are already hard from a mixture of excitement and the cool breeze in the air. I spend some time teasing them more, loving the way they pebble tighter, straining towards me and reacting to my every touch.

“I love your breasts,” I whisper right before I take a nipple in my mouth, using my tongue to toy with it.

Her body stretches up towards me, her hands pushing me into her. I can feel her nails score my back as her legs shift, opening for me. My CC is always so responsive, so ready for anything I’ll give her.

“Gray, stop taking your time,” she urges.

I have every intention of dragging out her torture, making her need me until she can’t think of anything else, but she does something unexpected: She leans up and places a gentle kiss on my shoulder. It’s sweet, loving… and completely CC. Then I feel her teeth scrape the skin. My cock jerks, wondering just what she’s going to do next. Then she bites into the skin there, sending a sharp sensation that borders on pain but is something else. She does this while at the same time reaching between us to grab my cock, squeezing him and leaving me with no illusion to what she really wants.

“Are you hungry, baby?” I ask her, my hand already moving between her legs to see if she’s ready. I move my fingers over her clit. She’s already soaked for me, but I want her to the point that when I slide in, she explodes. She whimpers when I thrust a finger in, using my thumb to press down on that throbbing little button while I stretch her. I add a second finger, thrusting into her and stretching her before repeating my movements. My lips finds hers again and I swallow her gasp as my fingers plunge inside of her hard and fast. Her cream gathers around them, allowing me to slide in and out of her with ease.

“I’m going to come, Gray,” she whispers. I don’t have words to explain what it feels like when she says my name like that. My balls literally ache with the need to empty inside of her and make sure I’ve claimed every slick inch of her.

I regretfully remove my fingers, then wrap my arms around her to hug her close.

“Gray?” she questions, confused, her voice thick and filled with need.

“Shh, sweet lips. I’m just moving so I’m on the bottom and you control this ride,” I assure her. It just seems wrong to fuck her hard when she’s against the hard ground.

She moans as we roll, but settles on top quickly. Her legs tighten around me as she seats herself atop me. She’s a fucking goddess. The red hair framing her face and cascading down her bare shoulders shines bright as the sun seems to pick up every different shade she has. Her breasts are thrusting out, the nipples so hard it looks painful. Her curves and shape hypnotize me, especially as she reaches her hand between us, encircles my cock, and holds it at her entrance.

“I really love the way you think,” she tells me.

“Is that so?”

“Mmm… hmm,” she breathes, then lowers down on me so as to take my dick inside achingly slow. “And I really like being on top,” she adds.

By this point, I’m too far gone to respond. It comes out as an unintelligible grunt because the woman of my dreams is sliding up and down on my dick and I can do nothing but feel. She puts her hands on each of my shoulders and begins riding me hard, pushing up and down and driving us both fast towards the point of no return. I can’t look away from her, watching as pleasure shoots through her body and begins to overtake her. My body is so hot, it feels as if it’s on fire. I know I’m not going to be able to hold out much longer. My hands knead her hips as I encourage her to ride harder. She puts a twist in her movements that is nearly my undoing. I know I’m holding her so tight that I’ll probably bruise her. I thrust up, wanting to get as deep into her as I can.

And then… it stops.

“CC? Honey, you have me on the edge here. You need to move,” I grunt, a second away from taking control away from her. She doesn’t respond and her body is completely stiff. No more warm, soft, and pliant CC, and fuck if that doesn’t suck. “CC?” I growl like a wounded animal because I’m way too far into this now for her to be backing out. I will if she insists, but I’m not going to like it one bit.

“Gray! Hush!” she whispers fanatically and so quietly that even as close as we are, I have to strain to hear her.

Immediately, concern fills me. I hold her close, trying to look around us to see what’s wrong. From where I’m at lying down, I can see next to nothing. I can’t see one thing that would have her in such a panic—and there is panic and fear in her voice. I don’t like that at all.

“What’s going on?” I ask, holding her and trying to sit up at the same time, but she’s pushing me down and sitting so stiffly, it’s making it impossible.

“Hush! We’re not alone!”

Shit. One of the other golfers must have ventured out here. I try to pull her down to reassure her that if we hide in the bunker, they will never know we’re here. I pull her head down on my chest. The shift in her causes my dick to move into her even farther and I groan. Fuck… there’s only so much a man can take.

“Hold still, baby, or I’m going to fuck you regardless. I don’t care if there is another person around. Just be quiet like this and don’t move. He’ll take his turn and move on to the next spot on the course. Then, we can finish.”

“What are you talking about, you idiot?” she hisses in my ear.

“The person you said was here. The golfer. He can’t see us if we just…”

“It’s not another golfer, you freak!”

“What? Then what the fuck are you going on about?” I ask her, frustrated and horny. Shit. I’m really, really horny.

“There’s a skunk!”

“A what?”

“A skunk! He’s about ten yards away from your head and if you don’t shut up, he’s going to… Oh, fuck.”

“What?”

“Gray, he’s coming over here. What do we do?”

Shit. Fuck. Damn.

Panic has seized me. I feel it through every inch of my body. My heart is almost pounding out of my chest as I watch the little black and white terror stare at me. I mean we lock eyes. I always thought skunks looked so pretty. Flowers was my favorite character on Bambi. But watching as he stares at me, this animal doesn’t look cute. He looks mean, hateful, and mocking—almost as if he knows exactly what he interrupted and what he’s doing.

“Gray answer me!” I whisper again as fear threatens to consume me because the little shit is walking towards us. Strutting, even!

“Just hold still. If we don’t scare it, it won’t do anything. It will grow bored and leave.”

Really? That’s his advice? Okay, he grew up in Texas. Do they even have skunks out there? Because we do in Kentucky, and I’ve never known that advice to work. Of course, it’s usually hunters that I’ve known who’ve been sprayed, so there’s a chance he could be right.

As the skunk gets closer and closer, however, I start to experience serious doubts. “He’s getting closer,” I whisper in panic.

“Hang tight, Cooper,” Gray whispers next to my ear, holding me close. I do my best. My body is so still, it feels like I’m balancing on a tightrope. I’m afraid to move, afraid to breathe… until I feel Gray’s dick move inside of me. Good Lord!

“You cannot still be horny,” I whisper into his ear, biting it to get my point across.

“I’m inside of you, Cooper. You can’t expect me not to be horny.”

“There’s a rabid animal circling us!”

“He’ll move on if you’ll shut your sweet ass up,” Gray counters, which pisses me off.

Now I think it’s safe to say that I do not react well when my emotions are running high. I don’t plan. I don’t exercise caution. So his pissing me off, combined with being naked, feeling helpless, and having an animal circling us—not to mention all the stuff swirling in my mind about Riverton—pushes me so close to the edge that I feel the line at my feet, a line that I’m going to cross. I know it. I try to gain control one last time, and that’s when I feel it. It’s a feathery brush around my calf, so soft and light that it kind of tickles. Then I feel something wet and cold. My head moves carefully away from Gray as I look over my shoulder. There, I see a furry black face moving against my leg, nothing but a ball of fur, but I see the long white streak down its back and watch as its tail moves from a soft sway. It ever so intricately raises and I watch it go centimeter by centimeter. I push against Gray’s shoulders.

“Don’t do it, Cooper,” Gray growls because he can feel my panic. He’s holding tight to me. If he wasn’t, I’d be gone. I’m afraid to speak, so I look in his eyes. I’m busy sending him looks that would kill a lesser man. He still doesn’t let go. The idiot is still convinced his plan is going to work.

That’s when the cold, harsh smell of reality strikes us both—literally. The spray hits us and the smell blooms like we just walked into a hog pen in the mid-august. It’s so strong, it literally robs my air, but I don’t have time to worry about breathing. I jump up the minute Gray’s hold loosens. It doesn’t matter that I’m buck-ass naked. Nothing matters except getting away from that damn skunk. I can hear Gray beside me, but I don’t look at him; I’m running as hard and as fast as I can.

And I only have two thoughts on my mind: I will never have sex outside again, and I will kill Grayson Lucas if he ever taunts me with not living dangerously again.

“Whoa! Where do you think you’re going like that??” the doorman yells, grabbing me around the waist. I was so intent on getting inside that I didn’t even see him coming to block the entrance. “Good Lord! What is that smell?” he bellows. I try to pull away from him, but his grip is tight. I hear Gray come up beside us.

“Get your hands off my woman!” he growls like the caveman he is.

My head is swimming, my breath is ragged, and my heart is still beating out of my chest. I’m so hyped up on adrenaline that it doesn’t even hit me that I’m still completely naked—not until the exact moment I feel the doorman’s hand grope my ass. I push away from him immediately, but I needn’t have bothered because Gray is all but tearing me away from the man. I wince at his hold, knowing there will be a bruise there tomorrow.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Gray yells, and I can feel eyes on us. Gray moves me behind his back.

“Gray,” I whisper, hoping to get his attention before this gets worse. When I look over his shoulder and see the small crowd gathering, I realize it can get a lot worse. There’s at least fifty people standing around watching us, and I’d lay odds that all fifty have seen as much of me as Gray has. I burrow against his back, feeling embarrassment and shame wash through me.

“Mr. Lucas? What are you doing here? Do you know that young lady? Why are you both naked?” another man asks from beside us. I look up enough to realize that he must be the manager. Great.

Gray can’t take the time to acknowledge the man, though, because he’s taking a swing at the doorman. Which, by the way, makes it very hard to hide behind him. I’ve wrapped my arms around myself as best as I can. Someone is handing me a black suit coat and I reach out to get it. When I see the man holding it looking at my body, it feels wrong to take his coat. I start to anyway, but Gray is there in front of me and he’s holding the black suit jacket the doorman was wearing. He wraps it around me.

“Get the fuck away from my woman,” Gray growls towards the other men and several others who have joined the small crowd and gather too close for comfort. I feel like I’m hyperventilating. The world is starting to spin, and if I pass out, I figure that will be the ultimate embarrassment. I manage to hold on enough to watch Gray take a tablecloth from someone. He wraps it around himself. The fabric strains to meet at his hips and doesn’t quite make it, but at least he’s mostly covered. He’s exchanging words with the manager and is demanding the doorman be fired. I really can’t listen to any more, and if one more person in the background keeps asking what that horrible smell is, I might go off.

That’s when I realize I’m crying. I feel the tears sliding down my face and it makes me mad. I’m not a crier. I don’t cry hardly ever. And the fact that I’m doing so now in front of all these people who have seen me naked—and in front of an irate Gray who is still yelling about the doorman copping a feel of my ass—pisses me off. I can’t control it. The more I try, the faster the tears come. So before I start sobbing in front of the vultures, I take off toward the elevators.

Not nearly fast enough, however.

“Claudia, can we talk to you?”

I turn when I hear my name and freeze when I see a reporter there with a photographer behind her, his camera zoomed in on me. Then I take off running because, yeah, the sobs have started.

What did we do?

“Ow! Damn it, Mom, that shit stinks worse than the skunk.”

“It definitely does not, trust me on that one, son. You smell like old Mr. Simpson’s outhouse. If you’re going to pick wildflowers with your woman, you should at least wait until you’re home. There, at least I have my own tomato juice. This store crap is hardly making a dent in it.”

“I didn’t exactly plan on getting sprayed by a skunk, Mom.”

“Apparently not. Why on Earth you felt the need to do something this asinine is beyond me. I mean, you have a king size bed and a kitchen table here. Not to mention that big shower, or heck, even that chair in the sitting room!” she mutters, pouring another can of tomato juice into the tub.

It’s a good thing I’m not a modest person because having my mom pour juice over my naked ass would definitely be on my list of things that would kill me. I hang my head down as she pours another can over it. Shit. I feel like the biggest asshole on the face of the Earth.

“How’s CC?” I ask, afraid to know the answer, but scared not to. I haven’t gotten to speak one word to her since we went running back to the hotel.

There was chaos downstairs when the doorman grabbed CC. My fist found its way to his face, and then a reporter showed up trying to get a picture of me and CC. It was all bad. It probably didn’t help that I ripped the camera way from the photographer and threw it on the ground so it busted into a million pieces, inadvertently dropping the damn tablecloth I had covering me.

I followed CC up to our room, but she didn’t talk; she was too busy crying. I wanted to console her, but when got to our room, it finally hit me that without my clothes, my wallet, or anything else—we were stuck… which required me knocking on the door of my mom’s room. Which brings me to getting drowned in store-bought tomato juice and vinegar by Mom in my hotel room after she already did the same to CC in hers… and not getting two minutes alone to check on my woman. I’m mad, worried, and stressed the fuck out. I’ve already put a call in to Seth about the press, but as much as I don’t want to admit it, there’s a very real possibility that pictures of me and CC in our birthday suits will be all over the papers in the morning. CC has to be so pissed off at me, and I can’t blame her.

“How do you expect the girl to be after running across a busy golf course butt-ass naked, getting groped by a doorman, and then having her future mother-in-law washing her from head to toe and seeing every nook and crevice the good Lord saw fit to give her?”

“Can I see her?”

“After you smell better, maybe. Now hold still or this scrub brush will take off your hide along with the smell.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I grumble unhappily, and for my tone, I get the brush slapped upside my head.  Fuck. Will this day ever end? Better yet, will CC be back in my arms when it does? This is all my fault and I’m feeling like shit for getting her into it.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Gray asks again.

I’ve lost count, but we’re surely in double digits by now.

It’s the day after the entire mess. The tournament has been postponed because of a rainstorm, so we’re just trying to recover. We’re snuggled on the couch watching TV and wearing the hotel robes. Finally clean… and finally Ida-Sue-and-crazy-Lucas-family free. If it wasn’t for smelling like tomato juice and vinegar, I would pretend it was all a bad memory.

I’m trying to act normal, but there’s this fear that keeps swamping me. There were a lot of people around when we made it back to the hotel. A lot. Gray said he had it handled, but fuck, I don’t know how many people saw me naked. I don’t know what kind of chaos played after I ran away crying. It took Ida Sue an hour to calm me down, but we both know that if this gets out, Riverton will use that against me, which means there’s no way I’ll be able to get the loan from the bank unless Ida Sue performs a miracle. Every time the phone rings, I jump, worried it’s Riverton and praying it’s Ida Sue instead with word from the bank. I don’t care what the terms are; right now, I’d sign away my life if it means keeping the garage from that asshole. I feel so bad. There’s just no words. Jackson has been trying to get a loan, but his credit pretty much sucks after his divorce.

“I wish you would quit asking me that,” I tell Gray, trying not to be frustrated with him. It’s not fair that I’m blaming him, though I am. It’s not his fault I’m in the mess that I’m in, but it is his fault we literally got caught with our pants down.

“I’m worried about you, Cooper.”

“I’m about as good as someone can be when they’ve mooned half of Georgia and then got groped by some perverted doorman.”

“Fucking bastard. I should have hit him harder.”

“Let’s try to just not talk about it, please?”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he says. He sounds so sad, I feel like a bitch for being upset.

“I know,” I tell him, then wince. I made the decision to make love with him. It’s not his fault completely and yet I realize I am holding a grudge. I’m blaming him.

“C’mon, CC. Talk to me. What’s upsetting you the most?”

“You need more besides what we just talked about?”

“I can’t help feeling like there’s something more. You need to talk to me.”

He’s right. I know he is. I take a deep breath. Is this where I push him away? Is this where I lose him?

“There’s things you don’t know,” I tell him.

He pulls up, turning so he can face me, and I see the worry and maybe even hurt in his face. Guilt swamps me and I try to push it behind me so I can concentrate on what I need to tell him.

“Talk to me, CC.”

“Gray, when Banger got sick, things just got… really bad. It was just me and him. There wasn’t anyone else to depend on.”

“I’m sorry, honey. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help you.”

My next words stop, and I feel like I’m choking on them. He’s completely serious. I want to believe him, and I think most of me does. There’s still this small voice in my head telling me not to believe him—not to trust him. I have this war going on inside of me. Will he let me down like others have? Will he leave me? Am I being unfair? Why do I insist on making Gray pay for the sins of others?

“Okay, fine!” I tell him, more upset with myself than him and deciding just to lay it out for him. “Gray, I’m in trouble. I made a huge mistake…” I start, when a knock at the door stops me.

Both of us look at the door and Gray huffs in frustration.

“Stay right here and don’t move.” I don’t respond, my eyes still glued to the door. I have a bad feeling. “Do you hear me, CC?” he prompts, and I tear my eyes from the door to look at him.

“Okay,” I say weakly, sitting up.

“I love my family, but I swear they have the most horrible timing,” Gray mutters, walking to the door.

I just keep staring at the door like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. He might think it is family, but something inside of me tells me different, and I know once that door opens, my world is never going to be the same.

Son of a bitch, I can’t believe I was just about to get CC to talk and my family interrupts me. I’m tempted to just ignore the knock, but I know CC won’t let me by with that. My only option is to get rid of them quickly and hope that she doesn’t backpedal. CC’s been better the last few days, but I know something has been bothering her since she left Florida and I had to follow her to Kentucky. I can’t let her weasel out of telling me. I need to know. More than that, I’m tired of dancing around how I feel about her. We’ve been together long enough; she should know that I’m here for the long haul. I should be able to tell my woman I love her without worrying it will make her run for the hills.

“Mom, I appreciate you being worried about—Oh, Riverton. What are you doing here?”  I ask once I open the door and discover it’s him there.

“I’ll tell you what the fuck I’m doing here. Would you like to explain to me why the spokesman for my new line of golf merchandise was caught buck-naked running across the golf course during the most important match of the season?” he growls.

He probably has good reason for being upset. He has a lot of money tied up in this new venture. I sigh and hold my head down, knowing that this isn’t going to be over soon. I’m about to shut the door after him when his daughter walks in.

Just what I needed to make today an extra special shit pile.

“Listen, I know you’re upset and you have every reason to be, but it’s not as bad as you’re letting on. I already have my men on it to stop the media attention. We’ll contain this, and…”

“Contain this? You and that woman are already plastered across every tabloid rag out there,” he growls, shoving a couple folded newspapers into my gut. I put them on the table, grabbing the top one and opening it up. Fuck me running, it’s worse than I imagined. It’s a picture of me and CC running across the golf course in nothing but our birthday suits. The butts have been blurred out, but it clearly shows that we’re naked. The headline reads: “Golf’s bad boy caught once again with his pants down.”

“Fuck!” I growl.

“They get worse. Look at the next one,” Cammie says just as CC comes to my side looking broken. She leans in and reads the picture. She gives a soft cry that rips through me. Her hand covers her mouth when she sees the picture.

I’m almost afraid to read the next one, but I do. I have to because CC is already reaching for it. That’s when I discover that Cammie has a knack for understating. The headline on the inside is not only worse; it rocks my entire world: “Golf pro Grayson Lucas caught cheating on fiancé with her father’s secret love child.”

“What the fuck? We’ll sue the bastards. By the time I get done with them, they won’t own a paper to print their vicious lies in anymore,” I growl. “CC, you have to believe me, I will handle this,” I tell her, holding her shoulders and forcing her to look at me. When her face slowly lifts, I see those big tears in them I’ve come to hate. Her face has gone white. Fuck! I’ve got to find a way to fix this.

“Gray,” she whispers, but I just pull her close. I need to deal with Riverton and get them away from CC. She has too much to deal with; she doesn’t need them here, too.

“Why in the hell do they even think they can get away with printing this garbage? I mean, calling Cammie my fiancé? And who the fuck knows what was in their heads when they said that shit about you and CC. David, you have to admit this is overboard. You can help me take them down. We’ll file suit today.”

“It’s true,” CC whispers.

“Of course it’s not, baby. Don’t you worry about… What did you say?”

“I said it’s true, Gray.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, confused. But when I look around the room, there are three sets of eyes on me. Three sets that don’t look the bit lost.

Three sets of eyes that look eerily alike.

“My mother… well, I’ve told you enough that you know she’s not the best person in the world.”

“Yeah, but…”

“She had an affair with… this man,” she tells me, indicating Riverton. “He had money and power and she thought that she could trap him into marriage by getting pregnant with me. The plan backfired because even as fucked up as Margaret was, she had no idea just how cold the bastard she was sleeping with was.” Her voice is still a whisper, but there’s a coldness in it. When I look up, I see she’s staring straight at Riverton.

“Jesus,” I mutter, not sure how I feel about this shit or the fact that she kept it from me. I mean, why? Why wouldn’t she tell me? I went into business with this asshole and that alone makes me sick. I don’t want to work with anyone who can’t even acknowledge his own daughter. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask her, not wanting to have this out with Riverton and his daughter around, but unable to keep myself from asking.

“I wanted to. It’s just… I was…”

“She was using you, Gray. She wanted into the world my father and I have because she’s jealous. Jealous of me. Jealous of the fact that she’s just too far out of your league,” Cammie chimes up in her annoying voice. There has to be a mistake somewhere, because this woman cannot be kin to CC.

“I was not! I…” CC starts, but I interrupt her.

“You need to shut it, Cammie. CC has been through enough. She doesn’t need you trying to land digs at her expense,” I tell her, defending my woman even if I don’t understand her right now.

“Gray, I really was going to tell you. I started to before they got here, I promise.”

“It’s not important right now. What’s important is we need to figure out a way to do damage control here,” I tell her. I sound short with her and I regret that. I’m not really upset with her over the secret, just the thought that she kept it from me. I’ll think about it later. It was her secret she didn’t have to tell me, no matter how much that upsets me. Still, my main concern right now has to be how to get these pictures taken down.

“It’s much too fucking late for that,” Riverton says.

“No. We just need…”

“You don’t get it, Lucas, so I’ll spell it out for you. You’ve been suspended from this tournament.”

“What? They can’t do that!”

“They can. You signed a contract with a morality clause. This is clearly in violation of those terms. You’re out. The sponsors have given you and your entourage until the end of the day to leave the club.”

CC’s startled gasp tries to grab my attention, but I stay focused on Riverton.

“I understand the temptation to lie with pigs, son,” he goes on. “After all, I did it myself, but you can’t allow them to drag you down into their mire.”

I blink. For a second, I think I must have imagined what he said. Surely the asshole wouldn’t say that shit in front of CC—a woman who is apparently his own daughter.

“We can still spin this, Grayson. I’ll go out with you and we can present a united front. We’ll tell them that we were separated at the time…” Cammie chatters.

I’m barely listening to her, still going over what Riverton says, and I can’t control myself. I slam my fist into his nose, and even when blood is spurting out and he’s groaning in pain, I don’t feel better.

“You fucking loser! How dare you talk about CC like that! She’s worth ten of you and your crazy-ass daughter!” I growl, hitting him again just because I have more frustration and I can’t hit Cammie. I do turn to her, though. “And you! Are you crazy? ‘Separated?’ We were never together! Are you the reason the press thinks we’re an item?”

“I’ll sue you for this, Lucas. You won’t have a dime to your name when I’m through with you!” Riverton mutters through his blood-soaked hand which holds his obviously broken nose. “I’ll sue you right before I foreclose on your whore’s garage and burn it to the ground!” he spits. Before I can respond, the door opens with enough force that it slams against the wall.

“Like hell you will! You’ll tuck your head between your tail and leave my son and CC alone or you’ll regret it,” Ida Sue says while standing at the door. CC’s trying to pull away, but I don’t let her. I hold her close and together we turn to look at Ida Sue. I know my mother well, and there’s a fury behind her words, but that face is what I’m concentrating on. She’s got something big up her sleeve and I’m suddenly very anxious to see what it is. Hopefully she’s getting ready to hand Riverton his ass because if she doesn’t, I sure as hell will—one way or another.

I feel like I’ve been standing in the eye of a hurricane, every horrible thing I can imagine battering me over and over. Now with Ida Sue standing there looking like she’s about ready to commit murder, I’m afraid to move and I feel out of control. I’ve not been like this since Banger got so horribly sick. I’m not myself. If I was, I would have throat-punched Cammie. Instead, I’m left staring at Ida Sue, wondering what could possibly happen next.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Riverton growls, probably remembering being on the wrong side of Ida Sue in Kentucky.

“When I saw the paper this morning, I just had a feeling you’d be like the snake you are and come here slithering on your damn belly and bothering my kids.”

I could almost smile at her. The only thing to make it more complete is if she had a shotgun in her hand. But my stomach feels like someone just kicked it: Her kids?

“Is Ida Sue… claiming me?”

“She did that weeks ago, Cooper,” Gray whispers, squeezing me tight. I hadn’t even realized I said the words out loud. “How did you miss that?” he asks.

“We’re all claiming you.”

That comes from Gray’s family, who come in and stand behind Ida Sue. They say it in unison. There’s White, Cyan, Petal, Maggie, Jansen, and Green. What they are saying is so huge, I’m momentarily stunned.

How did I miss this? A warmth fills me that I can’t explain, mostly because it’s like nothing I have really felt before. But standing there among two people I hate more than anything in the world, I’m happy. I’m good because I’m standing with… a family. My family. Gray and his crazy bunch are my family.

“I’m not changing my name to Chrysanthemum,” I tell Ida Sue, and I have a few tears in my eyes, but I’m okay with these because even though I’m about to lose Banger’s garage—and my naked ass is plastered all over the world—at least I belong somewhere.

“Of course you’re not, dear, though speaking of Mums, I could always use some grandkids. Just make sure you don’t name him Skunk. That would never work.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I tell her, shaking my head.

“Though Sandy would work. We don’t have one of those in the family yet,” she says.

“What the hell are you all doing here? It’s like The Beverly Hillbillies visiting…”

Riverton doesn’t get to finish because Gray turns around and, as quick as lightning, punches him hard in the already-busted-up-and-bleeding nose. Riverton falls backwards and this time he’s down for the count.

“What have you done? Daddy! Daddy, can you hear me?” Cammie cries. She steadies Riverton’s head and helps him sit up.

“I’ll sue all of you assholes. I’ll bury you so deep, you’ll never see daylight!”

“I don’t think so,” Ida Sue says, walking over to him. “My daddy always told me if you had a snake in the henhouse, you should follow it back to its hole and make sure you cut its head off. I never much paid attention to that until I had kids. Then I discovered that I was a lot like a mama bear over her cubs. You ever seen a mama bear if she thinks someone is trying to mess with her baby, Mr. Riverton?”

“You’re crazy,” he growls, holding his face and standing up. It takes him three times to stand up, but he finally gets on his feet.

“I am crazy. You really should have factored that in. You mess with my kids and I’m going to fuck you up.”

“Lovey,” Jansen growls.

“It’s okay, Jan. The good Lord understands sometimes there’s only certain words you can use.”

“I meant, get it over with before Gray murders the bastard and we have bigger problems on our hands,” Jansen says, and that’s when I notice that Gray is tensed up beside me and looking at Riverton like he really is planning on killing him.

“Gray, sweetheart,” I tell him, pulling his attention back to me.

He gives me a smile, but it’s a strained one.

“I’m okay, Cooper. You and I are going to have a talk later, though.” I grimace at his words because I can only imagine what that’s going to be like.

“Fine,” Ida Sue says, reaching in the back pocket of her jeans to pull out a paper.

“What’s this?” Riverton says, looking at the paper as if it might bite him.

“A signed and notarized statement showing that CC’s loan is paid in full.”

“No fucking way. I wouldn’t accept payment.”

“Ida Sue,” I cry, completely blown away. She said she was working with the bank. How did she get the loan without me signing papers? She couldn’t have! Unless…

I look around for a place to sit down before I fall. I finally give up and just sit on the wooden coffee table. “Ida Sue, why?” I cry again, feeling horrible.

“Because you’re family, and family takes care of one another.”

“I guess I should have known you’d have your boyfriend pay your way out of trouble. Like mother like daughter, I guess.” Riverton sneers at me.

“I wouldn’t… I didn’t,” I cry, looking from him to Ida Sue and back up at Gray, afraid he would think I took his mother for a ride.

“You didn’t, sweet cheeks, but I did,” Ida Sue says. If I wasn’t knee-deep in fear and this sick feeling at having Gray’s mom shell out two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, I’d have to wonder about that nickname. Gray obviously takes after his mom. That could mean trouble for me, if he doesn’t kick me to the curb once he realizes how much money his mom is out.

“Whatever. I’ll use all the money I have to bury every damn one of you,” Riverton growls.

“That might be difficult,” Ida Sue says, and Jansen comes beside her and hands her an envelope. “Consider yourself served, Mr. Riverton,” she says, handing it to him. “Of course I don’t trust you to say you didn’t get it, even with all these witnesses, so the sheriff’s office will be hand-delivering one to your corporate offices this afternoon.”

“What are you talking about, you old bat?” Riverton snarls, tearing open the envelope. Gray makes a move to hit him again and Janson pushes him away.

“He’s not worth it, son,” Janson says after pushing him back a few feet. Gray doesn’t look happy, but he steps back. “Besides, it’s my woman he’s going on about,” he adds, and then he grabs the back of Riverton’s collar and uses it to slam him head first into the wall. “You need to learn how to talk to a woman, son,” he says as Riverton falls to the ground, completely out.

Cammie is crying, and she looks down at her father and then back at all of us. “What’s in those papers?” she asks, apparently more concerned with that than her father. Of course David Riverton doesn’t exactly inspire family loyalty.

“Those would explain that I am now fifty-one percent owner of all stock concerning Riverton Industrial. They’ll also notify you and your daddy that there will be a stockholder meeting next week to talk about a change of leadership.”

“What? You can’t do that.”

“It’s already done. I’ve been talking it over with Cyan and he feels like he might enjoy restructuring the company.”

“Mom? How did you do all this?” Gray asks.

“You know those oil wells that Blue let them drill on that pasture along the Northside, just to alienate our neighbor?”

“Yeah?”

“He’s been giving me the money, and I’ve let Cyan handle investing it. Turns out, I can buy and sell Riverton.”

“There’s no way!” Cammie says, stomping her foot.

“But I did, Cammie darlin’. Who knew you and your father could be bought so cheaply?”

“Me. I definitely knew that,” Maggie says.

“Boys, drag this piece of trash outside,” Jansen orders, and White and Cyan jump to do his bidding.

“But if you do this? What will we do? What will happen to me? Gray! You can’t let them do this! What will I do?” Cammie cries as Maggie all but pushes her out the door.

“Try getting a job,” Maggie suggests, then closes the door once her brothers come back in.

“Now that’s what I call a family meeting,” Ida Sue says. “Now how do we take on the stuffed shirts over the tournament? Because come hell or high water, my boy will be knocking balls into holes tomorrow morning and doing it better than any man out there.”

Everyone starts laughing and all I can do is look up at Gray. He’s laughing too, and he seems okay, but he’s tense. I see it in everything he does.

Does he think I took advantage of his mom? How will I ever get the money to pay her back?

I close the door behind my crazy family and just stand there holding my hand against it for a few minutes, trying to get my emotions in check. It’s been a fucked up day, the least of it being the fact that my woman’s naked body was plastered in every gossip rag coming and going. Seth is working on that as we speak, but that will never go completely away—and that’s my fault. I failed her. Apparently I’ve been failing her a lot and didn’t even know. I don’t know how I feel about the fact that my mother knew CC was in trouble and I didn’t. Did CC feel she couldn’t come to me?

“Gray?” CC asks, ringing her hands from across the room. I don’t have to see her to know that’s what she’s doing; I know by the tone of her voice.

My eyes close and I try once again to rein in the fact that I’m hurt. That’s not truly what’s important right now.

“You didn’t tell me,” I say before I can stop myself. I turn around to look at her and I see the embarrassment on her face.

“I know.”

“My mother knew that you were in trouble and I didn’t.”

“That was by accident. She was at the garage when Riverton showed up…”

“He came to the garage?”

“He was just poking at me, wanting me to know he had me in a corner,” she explains, not quite meeting my eyes.

“He harassed you? The fucker came to your business and harassed you and you didn’t feel like that was something you needed to tell me? You let me conduct business with these people, CC!” I growl loudly, anger filling me at the idea of CC standing up against that twisted fuck by herself. What would it feel like to have the man who is responsible for your birth treat you like garbage?

“Now wait a minute. You went into business with them way before I even came into the picture. I don’t have anything to do with that.”

“I wouldn’t have gone into business with them if I had even an inkling of an idea that he was this twisted. If you had told me he was your father…”

“He’s not my father! He may have been a sperm donor, but under no circumstance has he ever been my father. I’ve only had one of those and he died.”

I swallow down the anger and frustration when I see the pain on her face. Right now, CC reminds me of a little girl, lost and…unloved. Except she is; she’s loved more than she could ever imagine.

“Okay. You’re right. You’re completely right. It’s just… damn it, CC. You should have told me what was going on.”

“Why?”

“Why?” I repeat in disbelief.

“Yeah, why? It’s my garage, my horrible past that was circling. Whatever happened, it didn’t affect you. It was my problem and my business. That’s it.”

“That’s it? What affects you affects me! You’re my woman. You’re part of my life. I thought we were building something here? I thought we were in a relationship. Instead, I find out that you’re going through all this shit and that my mother is the one who paid Riverton off and got rid of it.”

“I know you’re upset about the money. I mean, two hundred and fifty thousand is a lot of money. But you have to know I will find a way to pay her back. It may take me some time, but I will. I had no idea that she was going to—”

“Will you stop?! Do you honestly think I give a fuck about the money? I’ll give mom the money back tomorrow—if she’ll take it.”

“Gray! It’s two hundred and fifty thousand dollars!”

“So?”

“It’s a lot of money!”

“CC, how much money do you think I’ll make if I win tomorrow?”

“You don’t even know for sure if you’ll be able to compete.”

“I will. But it doesn’t matter. I can pay the loan back without even winning. Still, if I win, I’ll make over a million dollars.”

“Over a million?”

“Yes.”

“I… think I need to sit down,” she says, falling back on the coffee table.

“Are you okay?”

“You get a million dollars for hitting little balls all day?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that, Cooper.”

“If you guys make that kind of money, why do you wear such weird clothes?”

“Will you stop fixating on golf clothes? Jesus! We have things to discuss here.”

“We don’t. Not really. Your money is not mine. I’m going to pay your mom back.”

“Jesus Christ, Cooper. Will you quit talking about the money? It’s not important!”

“Spoken like a man who makes a million dollars for getting ducks all day.”

“Ducks?”

“You know, when you don’t make a hole-in-one, but you manage to get the ball in before the hole number, or something…”

“Are you talking about a birdie?”

“Whatever. They both have wings and beaks.”

“You are completely insane, Cooper.”

“I’m starting to feel that way…”

“You should have told me you were in trouble.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you! Jesus, it shouldn’t be this hard, Cooper.”

“You love me?”

“Of course I do! What did you think we were doing here?”

“I… I wasn’t sure.”

“CC, I love you. I want you in my life. Not just for a week here and there, or a month. I don’t want quick sex with you. I want to grow old with you. I want kids with you. Fuck, I want to spend every fucking day of my life with you by my side. I’m not doing this until I grow tired of fucking you, CC. I’m here because I know in my heart that I will never get tired of you. I will never be happy unless you are with me.”

“Gray…”

“Please tell me I’m not alone in this, CC.”

“Gray,” she says, walking towards me with tears in her eyes. She pulls me near, going up on the tips of her toes so that our faces are close. “Gray,” she whispers again, her voice thick with emotion.

“What, CC? What?”

“I…”

“CC?”

“I love you. I just really love you,” she whispers, then brings her lips to mine.

“You love me?” I ask her when we break away from each other. My heart feels tight. I wasn’t sure how this talk would go. In the back part of my mind, I really thought she was going to break up with me. The fact that she told me she loves me seems completely unreal.

“I do. I love you with all of my heart.”

“If I knew this would be your reaction, Cooper, I would have cornered you a long time ago.”

“I’m not sure I would have been ready until right now.”

“You’re ready now? For everything? To go all the way?”

“Are we talking about sex here? ‘Cause we kind of already…”

“Not sex, you nympho, though we will be doing that. I’m talking marriage, kids, happily ever-afters.”

“I haven’t had many role models for parents, Gray. I might not make a good mother.”

“You have Ida Sue and Banger.”

“If Banger heard you refer to him as a good mother, he’d come back and gut you.”

“Quit busting my balls, CC. You get what I’m saying. Tell me you’re willing to go on this crazy ride with me.”

“What if I mess it up?”

“What if I do? There’s no guarantees except that we promise each other no matter what that we stick together,” I tell her, locking our hands together and threading my fingers through hers. I bring our joined hands up and kiss them. “Together, CC.”

She stares at our hands and then at me. “I’m ready,” she whispers.

The weight of those soft-spoken words curls inside of me and rips through my heart, pulling it apart and then stitching it back together in a way that I know this woman will always be here. I let go of her hand and then, without words, I pick her up in my arms and carry her into the bedroom. The next few moments are filled with nothing but heavy breathing and a blur of clothes being pulled off, ending only when both of us are naked and lying on the bed next to each other on our sides.

I bring my hand down her shoulder and arm lightly, just enjoying the feel of her soft, warm skin. I let my hand rest on her hip as I look at her.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Cooper. So beautiful you make me ache.”

“Let’s see if I can cure that,” she whispers, kissing me on my chest.

“I like the sound of that,” I tell her, rolling over on my back when she pushes against me. She climbs on top, her body feeling like heaven this close. She slides between my legs and drapes herself over me, letting her lips kiss down my stomach. I let my fingers play in her hair, not urging or rushing her. No, I’m just enjoying CC and anything and everything she wants to give me.

She doesn’t seem to be in a rush either. Leisurely kissing me, whispering, “I love you,” after each kiss. I could do this and nothing more than this and die happy. It might sound girly to admit it, but she makes me feel cherished.

She shifts overtop of me so that her legs come down on the mattress on either side of my body. I look up at her—a goddess, her breasts tilting out, her soft feminine curves almost glowing in the soft light, and her hair lying lazily against her creamy white skin. My dick jerks, thrusting out against her. It can’t go far since she’s almost sitting on it. The tip has somehow made it under her enough that it’s resting against the inside of her thigh and there’s a slick wetness against him. I couldn’t tell you if it’s from her excitement or my own. I figure it’s a mixture of both, and I fucking love that idea. I shove down the urge to roll her over and bury my head there, drinking down any of the juices I find. This isn’t about me. I’ll get that later. This is CC’s show, and I can’t wait to see what she does next.

I don’t have long to wait because she slides down and then grabs my cock, positioning it lying down underneath her. Then, she settles on top of the lucky bastard. My dick is instantly enveloped in her sweet cream as it pushes between the lips of her pussy. CC moans above me and I look up to watch her. She’s got her hands on her breasts, holding them and gently teasing her nipples. My hands lock on her knees to stop from giving into the temptation to turn her over and fuck her hard. I want to give this to her. I want her to take what she wants. It’s beautiful to watch.

She begins sliding up and down on my cock, painting him with her desire and riding him.

“God, Gray, that feels so good. I could come just like this,” she whispers above me, her head thrown back, her eyes closed, and her hips moving as she takes her pleasure.

“Do it, baby. Take anything you want,” I urge her. She pulls her head back up to look at me, her eyes glowing with need, desire… and love. It’s always been there. Why didn’t I notice it before this moment?

“There’s something I’ve always been meaning to try,” she says, and fuck if that isn’t something a man loves to hear from a woman. I want to make every one of her thoughts and fantasies come to life.

“What’s that?” I ask her.

She studies my face, her tongue coming out to lick along the bottom of her lip. Her top teeth bite into the flesh and she pulls on her lip. It’s fucking sexy, and my dick tries once again to push into her without success. She has the bastard pinned, but it’s a position I could die a happy man in. CC surprises me next. She lifts up off of me and this time it’s me that has to bite back a cry of disappointment. It doesn’t take me long to figure out what she has in mind though when she turns herself around. I kiss up her back as she settles back down.

“I don’t know how to break it to you, darling, but we’ve done this position before,” I tell her, my voice hoarse as I feel her hand wrap around my dick.

“You’ve taken me from behind, Gray. But I don’t think we’ve done this before,” she says, and then she’s backing up. I lie down as she moves so her pussy is over my face. The sweet aroma of her hits me and I feel pre-cum slide down my cock. Fuck, this won’t last long, and I know it was her show, but there’s only so much a man can handle. I grab her hips and bring her down on my face, hard. I smother myself in her cream that slowly drips from her sweet cunt and covers the sides of her thighs. I drag my tongue through her depths, thrusting up into her, burrowing and wanting more. I growl into her cunt when I feel her tongue sliding against my balls. When she sucks one in her mouth, teasing it with her tongue, I nearly lose it.

I move my hands to grab her ass, biting into the cheeks and pushing her even harder into my face. My fingers push into her skin and move until they find that sweet little entrance. I slip a finger just inside the ring of her ass while bringing my other hand around to thrust a couple fingers in that sweet pussy I’ve been eating. When I turn my attention to her clit and tongue it, her entire body shudders, she squeezes my fingers tight, and her cry gets muffled as she moves from my balls to my cock and swallows him down that hot, slick throat of hers. Her hand stays tight around the base of my cock as she tunnels up and down on my cock, fucking her mouth with it. I know I’m going to blow. I can already feel the heated electric feel spread down my back, but I want her to come first.

I push my finger deeper into that tight, virgin ass. Then I bite her clit before sucking on it hard and lashing my tongue repeatedly over it. The swollen nub is pulsing so hard, I can feel it, even through all of the sensations I’m experiencing. I curve my finger inside of her, scraping against the warm, hot, sugary sweet wall and that’s all it takes. She cries out, though the sound is garbled because she’s choking on my cock, deep-throating me. I explode into her mouth, feeling jet after jet of my cum release. When her orgasm starts, I don’t stop eating her. I lick it all up and keep going until she gives into me again.

When it’s done, we’re both breathing hard. I feel her place a small kiss against my still semi-erect cock, and then burrow her head against my balls and let out a shaky breath.

“I love you, Gray,” she whispers, already half asleep.

I kiss the inside of her thigh. “I love you, too,” I tell her. I wait for her to say more, but the next thing I hear is a cute little snore. She fell asleep lying on my balls with her hand wrapped around my dick. I smile and kiss her thigh again and she whimpers.

I’ll let her rest and then wake her up with eating her out again. That sounds like a damn good plan. I’m brilliant, really. I’ll make sure she appreciates that fact later.

“Gray, how does it feel to have won golf’s biggest tournament and to now have your name in the record books with some of the greats of the sport?” the blonde reporter I know as Jenn asks.

I look over at my crazy family and CC standing behind the ribbon. “It feels like I’m on top of the world. I have so much respect for the guys who wore this blazer before me. Just to be mentioned among them is a great honor.”

“Gray, that was the most convincing win this tournament has seen in ages and you looked so relaxed out there. Do you think that gave you a leg up on your peers?”

“Jenn, to be honest, I was relaxed. Going into this tournament, I already had everything a man could ask for. I had my health, my family, and the love of my life. This tournament, as important as it was, is just icing on the cake for me. I really am a blessed man.”

“You mean it doesn’t have anything to do with your attire? That’s quite a statement you’re making out there. I can honestly say, I don’t think I’ve seen anything like those pants before.”

I look down at the pants I’m wearing. They have this horrible combination of pink, turquoise, and bright yellow diamonds interlocking on them. CC gave them to me this morning as a good luck gift. She honestly didn’t think I would wear them. I figure I’ll make sure she shows me her appreciation tonight.

“These? You like these, Jenn?” I joke, motioning CC over to me. She’s all smiles as she runs to my side. I pull her in close.

“They’re definitely making a bold statement,” she says, trying to be nice.

“These were a gift from someone I love. I couldn’t not wear them in the most important tournament of my career.”

“I see. Well, before I let you go to your victory party, can you tell your fans out there what’s next for golf’s most notorious bad boy?”

I look down at CC, and I can’t resist kissing her. When I look back up at Jenn, it feels as if my heart might burst it’s so full.

“That’s easy, Jenn. I’m getting married,” I tell her, and after kissing CC again, we walk back towards my family.

“You okay in here?” I ask CC, knowing she’s not. The poor thing looks like she’s about to faint. She looks beautiful. It is a simple, strapless, white silk dress that hugs her, yet somehow makes her look innocent at the same time.

“I’m a nervous wreck, Ida Sue,” she whispers and her eyes are glowing with tears.

“Now, now, none of that. You’re beautiful and Gray is one lucky son of a gun,” I tell her, but that seems like something I shouldn’t have said, because the tears slip from her eyes. I reach over and grab a napkin and dry them up.

“C! Stop that crying. This is a happy day! My best friend is getting married to a three-peater and is going to live the dream. Today, we celebrate!” CC’s best friend Mer says from beside us. Mer is a pretty girl, despite that name. It doesn’t even stand for mermaid, which is kind of sad, and if my old body was still able, I’d have another girl just to name her that. She has this pretty pale skin, and blue eyes that remind me of my girl Petal’s. She’s much too skinny, though. A good, stiff wind would blow her over.

“What’s a three-peater?” I ask out of curiosity.

“Don’t ask, please?” begs CC. I look to Mer, who grins from ear to ear.

“What? I think Gray’s Momma would like to know how special her son is,” Mer says with a saucy grin. I think I like this one; she has a little fire. She definitely needs to fatten up, though. One of my boys would clearly break her in half. Maybe Green. He needs a good woman. Lord knows the sour one he got a hold of has done nothing but poison him. I’m going to have to keep my eye on this one.

“I think I would,” I tell them just as someone knocks on the door.

“I’m supposed to escort my best girl down the aisle,” Jansen says, coming in. Damn, that man cleans up good. He may have some miles on him, but he’s the best damn ride I’ve ever had. In fact, I may have to ride him now.

I lean in and kiss CC’s cheek, handing her the note I fixed for her earlier.

“You look beautiful. I’ve never been more proud of my son. He did great.”

“Ida Sue… I don’t know how to… you’ve done so much for me,” she whispers.

“That’s what family does, sweet cheeks. And you’re family. You’re my daughter.”

“Ida…”

“My beautiful, amazing daughter. If your name was Chrysanthemum, you’d be perfect.” She laughs, just like I intended for her to.

“I’m not changing my name,” she insists. “Well, I guess after today, I will be a Lucas.” She blushes.

“Dang straight! The sooner, the better. So let’s get this show on the road,” Jansen says. “Besides, Ida Sue made chicken salad for the reception. I want my hands on that.”

“That’s how you got such a fine catch, Ida Sue?” asks Mer. “I always heard the way to a man’s heart was his stomach.”

“Honey, that’s just horseradish. The way to lock in your man is definitely wrangling him by the milk snake.”

“Milk snake?” Mer asks, already laughing along with CC.

“Good Lord, woman,” Jansen says, and I wink at my new daughter. “Let’s go before you say something else I’ll have to spank you for.”

“Okay, sweetheart.  See you outside, girls,” I tell them just as there’s another knock on the door. Jackson comes in looking hot as the Arizona heat in the dead of summer. “Jackson dear, you clean up real nice. If I was a little younger, Jansen might have reason to be worried.”

“Ms. Ida,” Jackson says with that sexy little grin of his. “I say we give him reason to worry now.”

“On that note, we’re out of here,” Jansen grumbles just as I reach up to kiss Jackson’s cheek.

“I wouldn’t mind taking a ride on the J train,” Mer says.

Definitely going to have to keep an eye on that girl.

I take Jansen’s hand and we walk out of the room together. When we get to the front door of my ranch house, Jansen looks at me with a grin. “I know today is all about the bride, but I have to tell you Lovey, there’s never been a more beautiful woman than you are right now.”

I move into him, letting him hold me close. “Much more of that sweet talking and I’m going to have to take a ride on the J train before the I do’s.”

“The shindig is set up at the end of the yard. We do pass the little one’s playhouse on the way.”

“I do love a man who thinks on his feet.”

“And here I thought you liked it best when I was off my feet,” he says, sneaking me out and towards the small playhouse.

A new daughter, a happy son, and a ride on the J train.

Life is damn good.

I watch as Mer takes off to walk down the aisle. She’s marching in the middle of all of Gray’s brothers—a fact that made her very happy. That leaves me and Jackson alone in the small bedroom.

“You about ready to get this show on the road, Claude?” Jackson asks and I turn to look at him.

“Can you give me just a minute? I need to get my nerves together,” I tell him, my heart beating hard in my chest.

“Banger would be so proud of you, y’know,” he says, nodding.

“I know,” I tell him, and I finally do.

“Okay, I’ll be right outside the door.”

I watch as he walks out and then I turn to the letter that Ida Sue handed me. My hands shake as I open it up, almost afraid to read it. I’m so happy. I have everything I could have dreamed of and I’m about to marry the man I love more than life itself. With all that good, will this be the bad that I’ve always had in the past?

Dear CC,

I wanted to take a quiet moment to welcome you into the family. Us girls get overemotional and the last thing you need on your wedding day is more tears. I know your new family is crazy. Some are a little mixed-up, but through it all, we stick together and weather any storm, because that’s what family does. They stand up to the world and say fuck you. It doesn’t matter what it throws at us; what matters is that we have each other’s backs—always.

So as you walk down that aisle today, know that you, my darling daughter, are not only gaining a very handsome husband. You are gaining a family and you will never be alone again. Although I suppose I should warn you, that part isn’t quite as great at times as it might sound.

Finally, I know that you gave your garage to Jackson, even after you and Gray insisted I take the money back for it. So, I did the only thing a mother could do when faced with two stubborn children: I bought you a new garage closer to home. Because this is your home now, darling girl. I know this garage won’t be the same as your father’s, but that one will live on through Jackson, who as much as I can gather, loved the man too. This garage will be all yours, and full of your father’s memories because that’s where we carry the ones we love: in our hearts. They never leave us because pieces of them are sewn into who we are. We take them with us. We teach our children about them. We celebrate them. Love never dies, my girl—it just grows.

Now don’t you dare try to pay me back. If you do, I’ll have to skin your hide. I wouldn’t mind if you had me a grandkid or two, though. Children keep you young, so I figure if I have about a hundred of those little boogers running around, I’ll be good.

Love,

Mom

I fold the note up with shaking hands, leaving it on the dresser. I stand up and use Jansen’s handkerchief to dry my eyes. I pick up my flowers, securing the handkerchief inside. My heart was full before, but now I’m just completely overflowing with love and happiness. I stand at the door knowing that whatever comes, I’m going to be fine. I do a mental list in my head. My hand goes to the small locket at my neck which belonged to Banger’s mom. Something old, check. I touch the pearl clip in my hair that was a gift from Gray’s sisters. Something new, check. Next, I move my foot around to make sure the penny inside hasn’t fallen out that Maggie’s little boy Terry let me borrow. Something borrowed and a penny for good luck. My hand automatically goes to my thigh where the blue lace garter is. Something blue. I’m being silly, but I just want to make sure everything is there.

As I walk out and take Jackson’s hand, we head down towards the wedding. I see Ida Sue and Jansen come out of the playhouse. Ida Sue is trying to fix her hair and her obviously rumpled dress, and Jansen is grinning from ear to ear. We hear the oh-my-gods from the crowd, the loudest coming from all of Gray’s brothers. Finally, I see Gray. My husband-to-be. The man I love with my entire being. The man who made me believe I was valuable, who makes me feel valuable. Who loves me. Never have I been more secure… or happier.

I’m reminded of Ida Sue’s words, and she’s right. Bring it on world. I’m not alone.

Crazy mother-in-law with a heart of gold, a loud, loving family to drive me nuts, and the sexiest man alive to love me the rest of my days.

Life is damn good.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are today, Cooper?” I ask my wife as we’re dancing. The wedding was perfect… Hell, life is perfect right now.

“You’re going to have to quit calling me that now, Crayon Man. I’m a Lucas now.”

“Fuck, yeah,” I whisper into her neck, kissing her there and taking her scent into my lungs. “You look beautiful, Claudia Lucas.”

“Right back at you, Grayson Lucas,” she whispers, snuggling against me.

“I can’t believe our mother had sex in the playhouse my son uses. We’re tearing that down,” Maggie grumbles from beside us.

“I think it’s hot. We should try it,” her date says, and I’ve heard about all that conversation I care to hear. I steer my wife away from them. Too bad I apparently pick my brother and his best friend to dance next to.

“I can’t believe you caught the bouquet, Kayla. Why did you even try?”

“Maybe I want to get married, White.”

“Weddings are for idiots. Why tie yourself to one person when there’s a whole world out there?”

“My brother is stupid,” I tell CC when I pull her away from the idiot and whatever garbage he keeps mouthing off with. “He’s in for a very rude awakening someday,” I tell her.

“I hope she gives him hell,” CC agrees with a laugh.

“Me too, but enough about them. How about we blow this popsicle stand and go get the honeymoon started?”

“I’m not sure I can wait that long,” she says with a grin.

“Is that a fact?”

“Mmm-hmm… Though, I did hear there was a playhouse around here somewhere,” she says.

“Claudia Lucas, I do believe my crazy family is rubbing off on you.”

“God, I hope so,” she says with a laugh, and I take her hand and lead her away from the crowd. She pulls me toward the small house and I crouch down and go through the door after her.

Crazy family, and the woman of my dreams wearing my ring.

Life is so fucking good, there are no words.

The End.

To my #BB4L: You've kept me going since mom got sick. I have no words to tell you thank you.

To Jenika Snow for texting me and offering support when I needed it most, you inspire me every day.

And Finally to my Dirty Girls. Your laughter, your smiles and encouragement and your time did everything to make this book possible.

XOXO

J

AUTHOR LINKS:

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Webpage: http://www.jordanmarieauthor.com

Would you like a sneak peek of my next book in the Lucas Brothers series? How about a previously released book that I released under my pen name Baylee Rose? Well, then turn the page!

White’s Story

Chapter 1

Kayla

“You’re what?!”

I hold the phone away from my ear, wincing. That man can yell.

“Calm down, White. I said, I’m getting married.”

“Who the fuck to? Kayla, if you’re still seeing that bastard Crenshaw after he…”

“I’m not seeing Bobby.”

“Damn it, that was only a month ago. How are you getting married?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Well, it just so happens I seem to have a lot of free time on my hands, so explain it to me.”

“Yeah, right. Football season starts next week. I may not watch the crap, but I keep up with the MVP in last year’s big game.”

“Obviously not enough or you would know I messed up my fucking shoulder last week in practice. I’m out for six weeks.”

“Oh no, White! I’m so sorry. You didn’t tell me! Why didn’t you text me?”

“You were dealing with enough cleaning Crenshaw out of your life… or at least I thought you were. So come on, Kayla, tell me what’s going on.”

“You’re just going to get mad.”

“Tell me,” he growls and I take a breath to shore up my courage.

I’ve been best friends with White Hall Lucas since I was fifteen years old and his brother Green broke my heart. I was all set to go to the prom with Green, and he stood me up when his girlfriend Cynthia suddenly wanted him back. Green welcomed her back with open arms, even though the bitch only did it because Tommy Haynes, the star football player, hurt his leg and couldn’t dance. Green was kind of an idiot when it came to Cynthia. According to White he still can be, which is just plain sad.

I’ve come to really like the Lucas family, from all of the brothers that their mother Lily named after colors in a crayon box, to his sisters who are all named after flowers. And his mother, despite all of her far-out-there ways of naming her kids and her craziness, is one of the sweetest people you’d ever want to meet. They’re all kind, loving people who make you laugh and open their doors and hearts to you. Above them all, though, is White Hall. White took me to the prom in his brother’s place. He dried my tears as I cried over his brother. He took me fishing and we just sort of began this friendship that’s lasted for twelve years. A friendship I love. A friendship I hate. Hate because, though White may see me as his best friend—and I am, as he is mine—the truth is… I love him. I’m horribly, desperately, and irrevocably in love with White, and he doesn’t have a clue. I can’t tell him because there’s no way I can ruin our friendship. If he knew how much it killed me through the years as he went from one woman to the next, it would change the way he sees me, and I can’t let that happen. White isn’t attracted to me. He never has been. He sees me as a buddy, a pal, and has from day one. It sucks, but I’ve learned to adapt. I’ve had to; it’s the only way I can keep White in my life, and that has been the most important thing.

“Kay? Talk to me,” he says, and the concern in his voice is my undoing, just like always.

“I’m lonely, White.”

“What?”

“I’m lonely. I’m not like you. I actually like being with another person. I enjoy quiet nights at home watching television. I like sharing a pizza while watching the big game. I enjoy being with just one person and knowing what to expect from them. I miss it. I’m lonely,” I tell him, wondering if he even realizes that the one person I do that the most with is him. It’s a stupid question because he doesn’t. He never has got that we spend more time together than any married couple I know, which is another reason to accept Tommy’s proposal. I have to forget White. I have to get a little distance from him. I can’t keep going like this.

“Being lonely isn’t a reason to get married, Kay. That’s not a good reason to tie yourself to someone. What if you…”

“I want children, White.”

“What?” White asks, acting as if he doesn’t believe it, and maybe he doesn’t. He’s never wanted them. He talks all the time how Green’s child destroyed his brother’s life. I don’t see it that way, but White never understood. “Kay, honey, you have plenty of time to have kids.”

“I’m twenty-seven years old, White. I may have plenty of time, but I want to have them while I’m young enough to do things with them. I want to start living my life. I want a family. I want a home with kids, a husband, and a dog…”

“Damn it, Kay, you can’t just wake up one day and decide you want to get married. It’s not done that way.”

“I didn’t just do it one day. You just haven’t listened. I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

“Who is this man? You can’t really know him.”

I take a breath, knowing this will just make White worse. “Tommy Haynes.”

“Cynthia’s ex?” he almost screams. I wince and hold the phone away from my ear. It really is too early to be having this conversation.

“He hasn’t been with Cynthia in years,” I remind him.

“What-the-fuck-ever. That man is as shady as they come.”

“He is not! He’s a good guy and I like him.”

“See? That right there! Like. You can’t like the man you marry, Kay. You’re supposed to love him.”

“I’ll grow to love him.”

“Or hate him. Don’t do this, Kay. I’m begging you. Think about it for a little while. I didn’t even know you and Tommy were dating. Did you keep it hidden from me?”

“Do you blame me?”

“Damn it, Kay. We don’t keep things from each other.”

“Like you didn’t keep the fact that you slept with my sister Rachel from me?” I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I really and truly didn’t. I wonder if he can tell the bitterness in my voice. Can he hear the hurt? That’s the real reason I agreed to marry Tommy. White sleeping with Rachel was the final straw, the shining beacon that said I was wasting my life dreaming about a man who would never see me as more than a buddy.

“She told you?” White says quietly.

I swallow. Did he ask her not to? Is that why she hadn’t mentioned it? God, why does it feel like the two people I love the most in the world betrayed me? Why? I shouldn’t feel that way. I shouldn’t be mad or hurt… but I am.

“Did you ask her not to?”

“Well, we both thought that…”

“It’s okay, White. It’s not any of my business. But that’s just it. If I want to marry Tommy, then you should support me. We’re friends. That’s what friends do.”

“Kay…”

“Listen, I’ve got to go. I’m running late for work. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Kay, we really should…”

“Bye, White,” I say, not giving him time to talk anymore, and I hang up. I stare at the phone in my hand for a few more minutes. I hung up the phone on White. It feels wrong. It feels… like the end of an era, and I guess it is. I’m going to marry Tommy Haynes. Things have to change.

I keep repeating that all the way to work. Somehow, it doesn’t help.

Did you like this sneak peek?

Be looking for White’s story, coming soon!

Keep turning the page if you want to read

Unjustified Demands, written under my pen name Baylee Rose!

I own her. She will submit.

She doesn't have a choice.

ROMAN

I own this town.

People don’t tell me no.

If they try, they regret it.

I live my life to please no one, but myself.

One look at Ana and I wanted to play with her.

To test her. To find her secrets. To make her my toy.

Until I grow bored.

But Ana surprises me.

One taste and I keep wanting more.

She submits to my demands.

But with each encounter, I find I want more.

Now I want her to submit more than just her body.

I want her heart.

And I always get what I want.

This book is a standalone containing a controlling, dominating Alpha and the woman with a secret that could bring him to his knees. Contains instant lust, immediate sex, and a taste for kink and makes no apologies.

Contains adult situations and not intended for readers under the age of 18.

Guaranteed Happily-Ever-After inside, because every woman should have one.

BAYLEE ROSE

© 2016 Baylee Rose

This book is a work of fiction. Owned, created and copyrighted by the author. Any similarity to real events, people, or places is entirely coincidental. Some names were used to further the reader’s enjoyment and imagination, but are no way endorsees of this book.  All rights are reserved. This book may not be reproduced, or distributed in any format without the permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for review purposes.

All quotations used in this book are part of public domain works and/or translated copies existing in public domains. The author acknowledges the use of trademarked status of products referred to in this book. Trademarks have been used without permission.

This book contains adult content including graphic sex, violence, and language. Please do not continue reading if you are under the age of 18 or if this type of content is disturbing to you in any way.

Cover Design:

Yoly Cortez with Cormar Covers

Cover Photography:

Eric David Battershell

Cover Models:

Ani Saliasi & Anna Medvedeva

Formatting and Editing:

Daryl Banner

Dedication

To everyone who had a dream and never gave up.

Always believe.

Baylee

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Epilogue

Epilogue Take 2

Author’s Note

Sneak Peek: Unlawful Seizure

“Boss, we got a problem.”

I’m looking out over the one-way window of my upstairs office that shows the bar and dance floor below. Here I was, thinking it was going to be a slow night. I own one of the premiere night spots in Miami, and for the most part, things run smoothly. I have my fingers in a lot of pots though, so I can’t help but worry about what Joe deems as a problem.

“What’s up, Joe?” Big Joe is my right hand and my number one bouncer. He can usually handle anything, so for him to come to me is enough to set off warning bells. I swivel my chair back around to look at him.

“That kid you caught trying to sell his shit in the club last week?”

“Yeah?”

“He’s got family.”

“I fail to see why this concerns me, Joe.”

It sounds cold. Then again, I am fucking cold. Still, I gave the kid two chances to stop pushing his crap in my club. He didn’t listen. The way I see it, three strikes and you’re out. I’d already been more lenient with him than I would be others. He was so fucking young. Twenty-one. Young, dumb, and full of cum. Hell, at forty-two, I’m starting to think I’m too damned old to be doing this job anymore. I have money—more than enough money. Maybe I should just seek out some sandy beach out of the country and call it a day. Greece, my mother’s family was from there. Even if my mother was a fucking bitch, maybe I’ll find some affinity for the country.

“His sister’s been making waves,” he tells me.

“Again, why do I care?” I ask, taking a drink of my Scotch. It’s aged perfectly and the burn soothes me going down.

“She’s been talking to the cops.”

“Fucking hell. What does she know?”

“Not a lot. But you know the badges. They hear your name and they’re going to come running.”

I sigh. He’s not wrong. They just hear the name Roman Anthes and they come poking around, descending on my club, my company, and any holdings I have. Since I’m trying to broker a deal to get into bed with the Russians, that could be disastrous right now.

“Where is this sister?”

“That’s just it, boss. You just hired her.”

“I haven’t hired anyone here at the club in months,” I argue. I’m very careful about the workers I hire here. I make sure I have them all vetted carefully and meticulously.

“Not here. She started work at the Dive.”

“Waitress?” The Dive is a strip joint on the edge of a low rent side of town. I won the fucking thing in a card game. Had plans for selling it off, just haven’t got around to it yet.

“Dancer. You gave Yoly the okay to hire her a couple of weeks ago. She’s starting to get pretty popular. Yo says business has tripled since she started.”

“Does she have any idea who she works for?”

“Don’t see how she could, boss. No one knows you own the Dive, and those papers are buried and tangled so deep, even the feds couldn’t find them.”

“Do you have her file?”

“Sure thing.” He hands a plain manila folder to me and I let it stay on my desk, thinking.

“What do we have on her?” I ask, opening the folder and moving my fingers over the glossy 5 by 7 picture stapled to the application. It’s a blonde with medium-length hair which is cut to curl toward her face and accent her strong cheekbones. Her eyes are violet. I never knew they made eyes that color. I have all my dancers photographed in nothing but their underwear, and she’s definitely got the body to make men beg. I thumb through the rest of it quickly.

“Just what’s in the file, boss. Well, that and obviously her affection for her brother.”

“What did we do with the little fucker?” I ask him.  My eyes keep going back to the photo of the blonde.

“He’s at the warehouse. You have him in one of the containers.”

“So, not yet dead?”

“No, but only because Bruno has been out for his kid’s surgery.”

“How is Thomas?”

“It was a success, thanks to your generosity. Bruno says they even said Thomas would be able to walk after some therapy.”

“Good, good. Tell Bruno to hold off. The kid might prove to be useful.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking the asshole might yet prove of use to me,” I tell him without expanding. He knows me well enough that he just closes the door, leaving me to my thoughts.

Ana Stevens.  The pretty blonde dancer has no idea what trouble she just landed into. I reach down and adjust my cock because the son of a bitch has been rock hard since I laid eyes on Ana’s picture. Why does it suddenly feel like, despite everything, my day is looking up?

I hate everything about this club. Walking through the front doors makes me feel like I’m being locked in a prison. The staring begins immediately. Men following me with their eyes, watching every move I make. I’m not a person; I’m a piece of meat, an image they want to jerk off to, a notch on their bedpost they can brag about.

Does that sound conceited? Maybe. There’s a difference between knowing you appeal to men and feeling beautiful.  I feel tired.  At twenty-six, I’m so damned exhausted of living, but I ignore it. I don’t have a choice.

“Hey, Ana!  Looking good tonight,” Joe, the sometimes-bouncer at The Dive, hollers out. I smile at him, my hand squeezing his big, scarred, beefy shoulder before walking on back to the private area.

I know the way by heart, which is good, because my vision is limited. My eyes are hidden behind my dark sunglasses. It doesn’t matter that I’m inside. I play a role, wrapping myself in a package that makes me a mystery, all designed to make men interested. They see something unobtainable.

In truth, the sunglasses hide the bags under my eyes until I get in the dressing room so Joyce can cover them in makeup.  Not being able to sleep is a bitch.

I sit down at the makeup table with a heavy sigh, letting my overnight bag I keep my shit in fall to the floor. Joyce immediately comes over and starts the major tease job she always does on my hair. I hate it. I usually wear my hair simple and straight. Hell, most of the time I tie it in a messy knot and go on. But I make money off of being the Ice Queen who every man wants to melt, so I let Joyce have her way.

“You’re late,” she chastises.

“Been out looking for Allen.”

“Still no luck?”

“None. I’m starting to lose hope, J.”

I hate having this conversation. I like Joyce. She’s been good to me, and talking about this stuff with her seems wrong. When she squeezes my shoulder tight in response, our eyes meet in the makeup mirror. We’re so different, but she’s like the mom I’ve never had. She’s fifty-two but looks to be in her early forties. She has this brown curly hair that she always has styled and teased yet clipped up out of her way. Joyce has these pretty green eyes with flecks of gold in them and they see far more than people give her credit for.

“If you don’t start sleeping, it’s going to affect your show, Ana.”

“I know. I tried.”

“Might have worked if you’d quit crying over that damn brother of yours.”

She’s not wrong. Still, I can’t seem to stop the tears. I lost Allen a year ago in every way that mattered. That doesn’t mean that having him missing is any easier. He’s been gone for over a month now. He’s disappeared before, but never this long.

“He’s my responsibility,” I tell her, the truth of that lodging in my stomach.

“Yeah, but he’s killing you.”

“I can’t help it.”

“I know, doll. I know. Let’s see what magic ol’ Joyce can work to hide those bags,” she says with a sigh, going to work on my face.

Twenty minutes later, Joyce manages to pull off a minor miracle and make me look good. I go to the wings of the stage and wait for my cue. Once I’m out there, I do my best to let everything go. I let the music take over and go through my routine like a well-seasoned veteran. I should be; I’ve been dancing for nine years now. I started before I was legal. It’s amazing what fake IDs and bosses who don’t give a fuck will get you. I can work the pole and I can shake the ass. I can do everything needed to make men horny and women beg for more. I can even look like I’m enjoying it when inside I’m slowly withering away. My set ends with yelling for more. I never give them that. Isn’t that an age old adage? Always leave them wanting more? I blow them a kiss and walk off, appearing unconcerned that my breasts are completely bare as my ass, except for a small string of material.  Big Joe puts the white silk robe around me and I lean up to kiss his cheek.

“Thanks, big guy,” I tell him. He knows I hate being nude. In fact, I hate everything about dancing. I did it for a few months when I hit sixteen. I needed the money to keep a roof over our heads because our strung-out mother was spending every dime she could on her next hit. You have to do what you have to do. When mom almost overdosed and did permanent damage to herself, I got free of her, in a way, and found new paths. Allen never bothered, instead following in mom’s footsteps. So here I am, dancing and trying to save my brother who is already too far gone.

“Another great show as always, Ana.”

I squeeze his arm like I always do and disappear to my dressing room. I have one more set to do tonight, and then I can leave. I need to try and search for Allen some more, or try old contacts I haven’t used in years. I can’t remember the last time I’ve slept. My mind churns through all the chaos that is my life and just won’t shut down long enough to allow sleep.

I sit down at the chair in front of my dressing table. Joyce hands me a cigarette and a light, which I gratefully take. It’s a routine of mine. I always have a smoke after I dance. The nicotine helps me to calm. It’s the only crutch I allow myself. I take a drag and my head goes back, eyes closing, and I try my best to squash down the panic over Allen. I’ve tuned out the room, so when a large hand wearing one lone insignia ring on his finger reaches over and takes away the cigarette, I’m unprepared.

“Sorry, you’re not supposed to be back here,” I say, annoyed, and look around for Joyce to signal for Joe. “And can I please have my cigarette back?”

“No.”

“No?” I ask the big tall mountain of a man. He’s easily six foot five, but he’s broad as a house. He’s got dark hair that’s cut close to his head in the back and a little longer on top, dark eyes, and he wears a suit that probably cost more than my entire budget for food did the last two months combined.  He screams money. Worse, he screams danger.

“My woman doesn’t smoke. That was your last one.”

“Your woman?” I ask. Something about the way he says that seems like it’s a done deal in his mind and my heart speeds up against my chest. Fuck. Where is Joe? “Listen, I don’t know who you think you are, but—”

“That’s easy, Ana. I own you,” he answers, and his words strike fear deep inside of me.

So much for keeping my head down and not drawing any attention.

I watch her eyes dilate with my announcement. Her breathing hitches in her chest. Fear. It can be the biggest aphrodisiac there is. At least for me. Ana’s picture didn’t do her justice. She’s fucking delicious. A tad too skinny, but she has a plump round ass that I plan to leave pink with my handprints, and tits that beg a man to fill his mouth with them and bite, marking them. Strangely enough, the part of her body that draws most of my attention is her neck. It’s long and slender, the delicate bones and corded muscle calling to the animal inside of me, and I want to clamp my teeth there every fucking day, leaving a bruise to broadcast to any fucking person around, man or woman, that she’s taken. My dick, the stupid fuck, jerks again. He’s been standing at attention ever since I saw Ana’s picture, and being this close to her is just making it worse.

“Ready to go?” I ask, my voice brusque. I’m so fucking hard it’s painful. I plan on pounding into that body and leaving her so sore, she won’t walk right for a week. It will serve her right for tying my dick up in knots.

“Go?”

“Yeah, pet, we have somewhere we need to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t know you. If you don’t leave right now, I’ll call Big Joe in here to deal with you,” she huffs, and those eyes grab my attention. Her file said violet, and maybe they are, but right now I’d swear I could see sparks of silver. I’ve never seen anything like them before, and I’ve always been the kind of man who likes to collect rare finds.

“Go ahead, call Joe,” I dare her.

That seems to take her back for a moment. “Joe!” she calls, her voice thick with panic.

“Yeah, Ana?”  Joe says, coming back through the small area that leads to the dressing room.  “Oh! Hey, Mr. Anthes. I didn’t know you’d be here tonight,” he adds.

My eyes never leave Ana’s. I see the moment that recognition flares in Ana’s eyes.

“You’re Mr. Anthes?” she asks in a whisper.

The words reach me, but barely. I’m enjoying the way her throat muscles move as she swallows. I feel my cock stretch against my slacks, demanding release.  In my head, I’m picturing holding onto Ana’s blonde mane and force-feeding her my cock, making her take me all the way back, stretching that pretty little throat just before she swallows down my cum.

“I am,” I confirm, knowing that even if she doesn’t know me personally, she will recognize the name that signs her paychecks. I grab the coat folded over her small dressing table when she stands.  “Put this on. We have business to discuss.”

“Business?” Her hand goes up to her throat.  I don’t bother answering her; instead, I hold the coat for her to slide into.  “What kind of business, Mr. Anthes?” she asks.

She looks like a small, frightened doe who’s just been discovered by the hunter, who has her in his sights and his gun loaded. My mouth twists in a wry smile. It’s an accurate analogy because she is my prey and I’m definitely loaded and ready to fire into her—or maybe on her.

“Now, Ana,” I order, and it could be my imagination, but I see a shiver of awareness run through her body.

“I can’t leave,” she protests, standing. “I have another set.”

“No, I don’t believe you do. Joe? Get one of the other girls to fill in for Ana.”

“Sure thing, boss. Libby can do it.”

“I can’t afford to take off.” I ignore her answer. “I need to put my clothes on,” she says, holding on tightly to the belt of her robe.

“I’d prefer you didn’t,” I tell her because I just plan on ripping them off of her soon. “Now put on your coat and let’s go. You’ve kept me waiting long enough.”

“Listen, Mr. Anthes, boss or not, I’m not leaving until I get dressed. Further, I don’t think I’m stepping foot outside of this club until you tell me where we’re going.”

I look at her then. She’s completely serious. It’s a glitch in my plan that I didn’t foresee. Usually, women know who I am and are only too thrilled to do what I order. The fact that Ana doesn’t, irritates and intrigues me all at once. It is… unexpected.

“Everyone out.” I order, and the room goes still. Within just a matter of moments, everyone that had been viewing my conversation with Ana is gone. The last to leave is Joe, and as the door shuts behind him, I can see reality sink in on Ana.

“What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you to get dressed so we can leave. You have two minutes.”

“I can’t get dressed with you in here!” I ignore her and lean against the closed door with my arms folded and wait. “You need to leave,” she insists again, the nerves coming through her voice loud and clear. It’s clear she’s not going to fall into my hands easily. I could use her brother as leverage, but I find myself reluctant to do that, even now. Interesting.

I don’t know what it is about Ana. Normally I wouldn’t touch one of the dancers, or hell, any of the women that work for me. I’m careful about the women I choose. I have no explanation other than I want her and I always get what I want. Time to make that clear.

“Take off the robe, Ana.”

She looks around the room helplessly.

“I—”

“Take. It. Off.”

“I will not. Why on earth would I?”

“Because I ordered you to,” I tell her, taking a step closer. This might be more fun than I anticipated.

“Then I quit. I’ll get my things and leave,” I tell him, completely bluffing. I hear something in my voice. Something I don’t want to put a name to. He walks towards me … slowly, stealthily. He reminds me of a mountain lion on the prowl for its prey. The problem is, I’m the prey in the scenario and my legs seem to have become deadweights refusing to move. He stops when he gets right in front of me. He towers over me and I’m having trouble catching my breath.

“Take it off, Ana,” he orders again, but this order isn’t like the other. This order is soft and seductive. His voice is hoarse and needy like a lover’s, and when he says my name, small shivers of awareness run through my body.

“Why?”

“I want to see,” he says, which seems absurd because I was just naked onstage.

“What’s going on?” I ask, confused about why my body feels… excited. There are so many undercurrents between us, it seems surreal. Attracting Roman Anthes’s attention should be the last thing in the world I want, so why am I enjoying it?

“You caught my eye,” he says, as if that explains everything. Maybe it does.

It doesn’t explain my reaction to him, however.

He’s standing right in front of me. His large body overshadows me, making my five-foot-five frame feel small. His shoulders are so broad that even under his expensive suit you can tell he’s solid muscle. His dark hair is so black, the light in the room seems to absorb it so that it casts a glow around him. He’s that commanding. I instantly know he could color everything around him, take any room or situation over. Take me over. I should fear that, and on some level I do. It also excites me. The blood runs through my body and my pulse thrums as if I just ran fifty miles nonstop. His eyes are deep pools of blue, but not just any color of blue; these shine like the sky on a hot cloudless summer day. They warm you, and I do mean that literally. I feel the heat from him. My body feels hot and he’s most definitely the source. So hot that, without thinking, I come close to pulling the collar of my robe away from my body. At the last moment, I stop myself and lamely rub the side of my neck instead, unable to tear my eyes away from him.

“Mr. Anthes,” I start, but my voice is quiet. I can barely hear it over the way my heart is pounding against my chest. Can he hear? I try to concentrate to make my words clearer, louder. “I don’t know what that means,” I tell him, not sure I’m succeeding with the whole “louder” thing. In fact, I’m almost positive I’m hyperventilating. Can you faint from too much … everything? Roman is too much, period, dot, and end of sentence.

His fingers move to my hand and glide slowly up my neck, his thumb brushing the side of my face. The touch isn’t gentle, but it has that quality. I get the feeling Roman doesn’t do gentle. His fingers curve into my hair and, for a split second, I forget to breathe. He studies my face and I’m afraid I’m giving away more than I mean to. I feel his fingers at the pulse point on my neck and I know he can feel how it’s beating out of control. His eyes move over my flushed face, then lower to my breasts. I want to bring my arms up to cover them because my robe is thin, but I can’t because he’s so close. I’m painfully aware of how my nipples are erect against the fabric. I’d like to say it’s because of the coolness of the room, but I can’t. I bite my lip to keep from begging him to do something. I hope it would be demanding he leaves, but in all honesty, that’s doubtful. What is going on with me?

“Are you a virgin, Ana?” he asks, and the bluntness of the question jars me so much that my head jerks back in reaction.

“I can’t believe…”

“Answer the question, Ana.” Again, that commanding tone drips from his tongue and pours over me, and I react in a way that surprises me: I obey him. I’m submissive in the bedroom by nature, but Roman is the first man to ever have the power to make me follow his lead outside of the bedroom, and without effort. It’s madness, and I do my best to pull myself away from the hypnotic effect he has on me.

“No.” I tell him, and I see his eyes flash. It’s like an emotion skitters through them and causes the color to deepen. What would they do when he’s touching a woman? Or when he’s making love to her? It might be best if I don’t think of that. Ever.

“Then why are you so opposed to me seeing you when the entire room outside just saw the same thing?”

“They were strangers,” I whisper inanely. It’s hard to explain how I differentiate myself from the room when I dance and how I can zone everything out except the music and the steps.

“But then, so am I Ana.”

“It’s different,” I defend.

“How?”

“They don’t matter,” I tell him, immediately wanting to kick myself. What happened to the woman who is self-controlled and can handle any situation? She’s gone right now for sure, because that didn’t come out how I meant it to. “I mean, it’s not that you matter either. When I dance, there is distance. I don’t focus on anyone. One-on-one is different. It’s why I don’t do private dances. Taking my clothes off for a man is reserved for someone I’m dating, someone I care about.”

I’m blathering on and the embarrassment infuses deeper into my face, the heat from it coming off of me in waves so that I know it’s there.

I try to pull away because I’ve made a big enough fool out of myself. He doesn’t let me. Instead, his hold increases in strength and he pulls me into him. I fall awkwardly against him. His hand locks against my neck. I look into his eyes, which are just a breath away from mine. “Mr. Anth—”

That’s all I get out before his lips crash against mine. His are firm, but soft at the same time. His tongue slips through my lips and instantly finds mine. For a moment I don’t respond, too shocked to move, but then slowly it all hits me: the feel of his rough hand against my neck and face, the way he towers over me and makes me feel small, the sweet taste of his mouth, the way his tongue is searching mine out, and most importantly, the way his body crushes up against me—solid, determined, warm. I give in with a moan, pushing into him and wanting more. My tongue finds his and they dance, wrapping around each other in their fight for supremacy. I feel one of his hands move to my ass, pushing under the robe and cupping it as if we weren’t in the middle of a club. I should stop him, but his fingers flex into my ass cheek and the feel of that is so good that combined with his kiss, I’m too lost in all that is him to even think of calling a halt.

“You’re a hell of a kisser, Ana Stevens,” he whispers once he pulls away. He moves away slightly and places a gentle peck against my forehead before retreating. My body leans towards his at first, not wanting him to go, but I manage to stop before I make too big of a fool of myself.

“That shouldn’t have happened,” I tell him.

He looks at me for a minute as if searching for something. I have no idea if he finds it. I figure he doesn’t because he turns away from me. I just stand there stupidly as he walks away.

“I don’t date,” he mutters, his back still to me as he opens the door.

I’m sure he doesn’t need to. Women probably throw themselves at his feet. He has that god-like persona. He’s beautiful and commanding. He has more money than I will see in my lifetime. He’s definitely dark and dangerous, and he has that forbidden vibe—especially to me. Women must flock to him. All of that, added into the way he kisses? I fight back the urge to tell him I’ll go with him. For just one more taste of him, I think I’d agree to almost anything. He’s that addicting. I shake my head out of the fog he’s woven around it. This is stupid. I do not fit into Roman’s world; even trying would destroy me. Of that, I’m sure.

“I’ll be out in an hour, Mr. Anthes,” I bluff. I can’t leave because I have to find Allen. My voice is raw but solid, bringing the conversation back to the business at hand.

“There’s no need, Ana. You may remain dancing, at least until I decide what I’m going to do with you.”

What he’s going to do with me? Now that’s something to worry about. I can hear Paul bitch at me now for taking chances. “What do you—”

“I’ll see you soon, pet,” he says over his shoulder before he disappears.

Pet?

I’m left staring after him like a deer caught in the headlights of a fast-moving car. I hope I survive the crash.

Two Weeks Later

I sit in the back of the room watching the dance floor through the smoke. I shake the ice in my glass before downing the last of my scotch. I may own the Dive, but it’s not my scene. I keep it to launder my money through. It serves a purpose, just like most things in my life.

That’s not the reason I’m here tonight. I’m here for Ana. I should have just walked away. I spent a week convincing myself of that. I spent the following week trying to replace her. That was a colossal failure. I couldn’t even get it up. I’d kiss a girl and instead of getting turned on, I kept remembering the feel of Ana’s body, the taste of her mouth and wanting more of her, because apparently no one else will work. It’s all I can seem to think about. Hell, I even jacked off to the memory of our kiss last night. A fucking kiss has me harder than I’ve been since I was a young kid wet behind the ears.

Now, the plan is to fuck her out of my system. Ana will be mine—one way or another. I still hesitate to use the brother, but I might if she forces my hand.

She is even more beautiful tonight. Her blonde hair is short, falling down in a straight, silky and sleek golden halo at her shoulders. It’s beautiful, but too controlled. In too much order. It’s not hard to imagine it rumbled and messed up in bed, though. Her whole body screams sex, with the way her hips move and the way her legs tighten against the pole as she gyrates around it. It’s enough to make any man wish he was the object she was holding on to, which explains why she’s developed such a large following in a short amount of time. Big Joe wasn’t kidding when he told me she had become popular. The men here are all screaming her name. She doesn’t notice, I can tell. As far as she knows at this moment, the room is empty. She’s lost in the music and has tuned out all of the screaming.

I don’t allow the men to touch the dancers. My girls don’t dance for singles. I pay them fucking well. If the men want a lap dance, then and only then can the girls allow that. It’s always in a separate room and only with a bouncer in attendance. Big Joe told me that Ana flat out refuses private dancing. I found it odd because I’ve checked into her pretty thoroughly. The woman is one step away from being homeless, yet she still turns down extra money. I watch as she rotates around and around the pole, defying gravity. Her spin begins to slow down and she slides to the floor, driving the men crazy. She’s smiling.

There’s a monitor hanging over my booth. I’ve never really used it since I rarely make the time to come here. Tonight, however, I am using it. I’ve been using it the entire time. The men are going crazy for her, salivating and dreaming of taking her home tonight. They’re so lost in her body, they don’t even realize that she barely notices they’re there to worship her. Ice. It’s a name that fits her. It’s a name that begs an answer to the question: what could make her melt?

My eyes are continuously drawn to her hip.  There’s a tattoo with the word: “survivor”. Just what has she survived? I wanted her from the moment I saw her, but given what’s going on with her brother, I couldn’t be sure what she was like in person. Now I know. Intriguing. I definitely want to taste her. Perhaps the most interesting thing is that I want to taste her more than once.

“What do you think, boss? I’m telling you, she doesn’t mean to give you trouble. She’s a good kid. I’d hate to see her get mixed up in bullshit and get hurt because her brother’s a dick-wad.”

“Bring her to the back. Shut down any other dancers for the room until I’m finished.”

“Boss, Ana doesn’t do private dances.”

“Don’t give her a choice. I’ll be waiting,” I tell him, leaving without further comment.

“The boss is waiting for you in the backroom,” Big Joe tells me just as I cinch the belt of my robe.

I look up at him as if he were insane, trying to ignore the thrill that runs through me. “Why would Yoly want me back there?” I question him, referring to the lady who hired me, even if I know better. I know who’s waiting and I’m excited about it. I should be panicking.

“It’s not Yoly. It’s Mr. Anthes. He wants a private dance.”

Electricity sizzles through me at his words. I’ve been thinking about Roman ever since our kiss, so much so that it worries me. I had been beating myself up ever since my last encounter with Roman. When I showed up the following day and went through my sets and Roman wasn’t around, I felt a keen sense of disappointment when it should have been relief. Stupidly, I had this anticipation running through me about seeing him again. When he was nowhere to be found, it bothered me. After a few days, it became apparent that he lied. He wasn’t planning on seeing me soon. I didn’t play his game and he was gone. That pissed me off, even if it shouldn’t. He’s got my head all fucked up, and that’s dangerous.

It didn’t change the fact that I obsessed over it, and the more I thought about it, the more pissed I became. I’ll admit that a lot of it was because he awoke things in me I have spent years trying to forget. To put it plainly, I was horny. It’s been a long dry spell—three years, to be exact—and with one kiss, Roman brought things out in me that I’d buried deep. He succeeded so much that I’ve been having dreams about the man. The fact that he disappeared for two weeks and then just shows up out of the blue demanding a dance pisses me off. The bastard knows I don’t do private dances. He just expects me to fall in line, like he’s doing the stripper a favor and now she has to entertain him. That’s the feeling that smacks me across the face and I hate it. It’s a reminder of why I hate dancing.

“I don’t do private dances,” I insist, while in my head I’m busy trying to figure out what in the world I’m going to do. I can’t risk him getting rid of me.

“You explain that to the boss. I’m just the messenger,” Joe says, and it might be my imagination but I think the man is avoiding looking me in the eye. “Come on, Ana. It’s not like he’ll force you to do something against your will. You work for him. He’s entitled to make sure you can dance.”

“So he does this to all of the dancers?” I question, knowing he doesn’t.

Big Joe pulls the door open and waits for me to walk past him. “You’re the first dancer we’ve hired in a while.”

I can’t argue with that, but I think we both know what’s going on. In fact, I think the entire room knows what is going on. It’s not my imagination that the other dancers and people in the backstage area get quiet. I reach the door and glance behind me. Every dancer here who’s putting on makeup or just taking a cigarette break have stopped to stare at me. The room that was crazily busy just a minute before is now deathly still and quiet.

“Hurry up, Ana. Mr. Anthes doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

I pull my robe tighter around me. I’m annoyed enough that I will give him his dance, one he won’t forget any time soon.

Nerves are trying to get the better of me as I stop by the small rack that contains my costumes. I grab one that makes me laugh. I think it fits Roman. Then, I grab the royal blue G-string and ignore the way it reminds me of Roman’s eyes. Right now I have one goal in mind: make Roman see what he’s missing and leaving him with his jaw dropped. I can do that. I mean, it’s just tempting and teasing. That should be easy enough.

I waste no time getting dressed, then make my way to the private room closed off from the rest of the club. I stop at the door and inhale. Then, I push onward. My entrance is a side door that’s designed for the bouncers and dancers only, completely closed off from the dancing area and surrounded by one-way glass that allows you to see into the room. Safety. It allows the dancers to see who they will be performing for first, a precaution that Roman himself put in when one of the girls had trouble with a crazy stalker-fan. Back when Big Joe was trying to convince me to dance, he told me everything, thinking it would make me more comfortable. It’s not about the dancing, though. It’s boundaries. Dancing for someone personally feels like I’m giving a piece of myself I shouldn’t. This job already does that little by little. Still, Roman thinks he can take what he wants when he wants? I’ll let him know that goes both ways. I thumb through the preloaded music and pick the one I want. Normally there’s someone controlling the music, but Big Joe said Roman wanted privacy. Bastard.

The music starts pouring out of the sound system. That’s my cue. The moment of truth. I walk out.

“You’ve kept me waiting, pet.”

I inwardly grit my teeth and ignore him. In fact, I give him my back, trying to gather my nerves. I let my body loosen up, sinking into the music and getting lost. My hips start moving to the beat and I admit I give my ass a little extra kick when I move it in rhythm to the music, knowing it’s mere inches from his face.

I can’t help but wonder if he likes my costume.

The fucking tease!

Ana comes in the room and my dick instantly comes to life. I thought she would wear one of the sequined costumes that the dancers usually wear. Ana surprises me by wearing a school girl outfit. Long white sleeved shirt, buttoned low and revealing the valley of her breasts. The plaid mini skirt barely covers her ass. Her hair is pulled up high on her head in a ponytail and she’s wearing these fake glasses. About the only diversion from the normal costume are the stiletto heels. She’s so fucking hot that I want her right now. When she turns her back to me and starts dancing, rolling her ass in a slow groove, I nearly groan.

I make a living owning strip clubs. I run one of the biggest underground gambling casinos around. I have cage fighters, betting clubs, women for select clientele, and even a bail bonding business. I have my fingers in all kinds of pies and each one is different and offers something useful. It’s all business. I keep it entirely separate from anything personal. That being said, not once have I ever been tempted to taste the merchandise involved in any of the businesses. Not until Ana. She has me breaking my own rules. And with all the women who work for me, there hasn’t been one until now who can turn me on by the sway of her hips.

When she turns around, pulling one leg up high and moving it over mine so she can straddle it, it takes all of my self-control not to pounce. The reward comes when she puts both hands on my shoulders, continuing to circle her hips. She bends into my ear and says nothing, but I can feel her hot breath. I need more. I thought men who came here for this kind of thing were pathetic. Why waste your time on a fantasy when you could have the real thing at home?

Not only am I seeing the error in my thinking, I’m wondering just where I might play with Ana again.

Now that she’s turned, her stomach is in front of me, I want to watch the way the muscles move and tighten as she grinds. I need that. “Take the shirt off, pet,” I order her, my voice thick and hoarse.

She ignores me. Something she will learn in time not to do; in time. She does some kind of movement with her legs and easily turns back around so her ass is begging me to grab it. I manage to resist, barely. She puts both of her hands on my knee and fuck, it’s the most erotic thing I’ve seen, the way she’s moving. A man could lose himself like this. When she bends and touches the floor and her stomach and breasts graze against my leg.

She spins again, stepping between my legs this time and putting herself exactly where I want her. She places a hand on each leg, bending so her face is in front of mine. She’s flushed and her violet eyes are aroused—I can see it. This dance is getting to her, too. My eyes go down to her breasts and the stiff peaks of her nipples, finding them pressed against the sheer shirt. She drops down to her knees, dancing with her whole body. My breath almost stills in my lungs as her face comes so fucking close to my crotch that I want to take over. She slithers and stretches back up, somehow getting closer. She’s so close I swear I can feel her breath against my balls, even through my slacks. Ana somehow goes back, then lets her arm support her as she gyrates her ass to the floor. She sits back while extending her leg straight up, the skirt falling back and giving me a peek underneath, but not near enough. She stays leaned back, but thrusts her hips out toward me. It’s a challenge to keep my face impassive. It’s more than I can do to hide the giant erection currently tenting my pants.

Like a snake, she slithers back up between my legs. I watch every hypnotic roll of her body. Somehow she manages to stay in perfect time with the music. She might have not given lap dances here at the club, but she’s damn perfect at them. She doesn’t need to give any fucker the show I’m getting except me. And as often as I want. That thought only solidifies when her hands move up to the shirt and slowly starts unbuttoning. She gets two buttons undone, enough that I can see the mounds of her breasts before she turns around. She takes off the shirt with ease, but the white material blocks my view of her body. When she tosses it on the ground, I want to scream “Yes!” like a little kid.

This time after teasing me, she gives me her back, but sits down on my lap. I know she can feel my dick pressing up against her. The bastard has forgotten every hard lesson I’ve taught him and is practically begging. She pushes down against my dick and I know it’s not my imagination that I can feel the heat from her pussy. She reaches behind her and takes my hands, sliding them up until they rest just under her breasts. She leans against me then, her arms going up and hugging around my neck. Her face is resting close enough that I can feel a gentle kiss against the pulse point of my artery. She’s smiling. The tease knows she’s getting to me. Then again, she’d have to be stupid to not know it. She glides back down to the floor, using it to thrust out like she might crawl. Jesus. I want her crawling to me. Would she freak out over that? I might have to train her awhile, before she would understand. She curls back around and there goes that one leg up again, giving me a glimpse of heaven. When both go up, I’m almost at my end. She hooks each leg on mine, using it to suspend her ass in the air, her body bent so much it looks like a fucking piece of erotic art. Her hands slide along her thighs and against the small covering on her pussy—silk, deep blue with small glimpses of the treasure beneath. I watch as she kicks her legs back in the air, her ass still suspended until she somehow flips over. She stands back up and this time as I watch her hips circle, she takes off her skirt a little at a time. Oddly enough, I’m glued to her face. She’s definitely smiling.

Her breasts are jutting out, screaming her excitement. Her face is flushed, and I know if I touch her, I’ll find her wet. Is it because of the dance? Would she be this way with anyone? Or is it me?  It could be either—or both. Another reason her stance on no lap dances will continue.

She places those stilettos between my legs damn close to my dick. She stands up on the couch and dances like a pro before her legs bend and she comes down onto my lap. Her hands are behind my neck and she pulls my face into her breasts while her lower body grinds against my cock.

That’s when my control snaps. I grab her hips and push her harder against me. She gasps as her nails dig into my head, trying to pull me deeper into her breasts. My lips seek out and find one of her breasts, and I suck the hardened nipple into my mouth.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to do that,” she whimpers, but I notice her body is pushing harder and harder against my cock. Somehow, the bastard has moved so that she’s grinding against him just right. Each movement of her hip has her sliding back and forth on my dick so that she’s jacking me off in the most fucking erotic way possible.

“I’m the boss,” I growl, moving from her breasts to her neck. I suck the side of her neck, loving how her pulse thrums against my tongue. I let go and find the juncture of her neck and shoulder, teasing it with my teeth. “I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

“Can you make me come, before I do you? Just like this?” she dares me.

Her question causes me to freeze as it registers, and then I smile. Challenge accepted. My mouth goes back to her breasts. I use my fingers on one and my mouth on the other to torture them both at the same time. Her thrusts against my cock quicken, her nails biting into my back so strong the pain adds to my need. My free hand that I have pulling her hip down, I move to the back of her ass. I push my fingers into that dark fold where the string of her thong rests. My fingers find the small entrance to her ass as if they were born to do that very thing. I push against it, though I never allow a finger inside.

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Ana exhales. “Roman,” she whimpers and I know she’s close. I can feel it from the way she’s riding me.

“I’m going to win, pet,” I tell her with a grin, one finger pushing into her ass so the tip of it goes in.

“If you come first, I’ll lick your dick clean and drink it all down,” she growls, biting into my ear. She’s so far gone, I’m not sure she even realizes what she’s saying. She’s an animal, driven by instinct and filled with lust. That gets to me even more than her words. I thrust against her, moving both hands to her hips to command her body. I work her body against the ridge of my cock and she’s helping me at the same time. I can feel my load gathering and I know I’m going to blow. I’m determined to hold back until after her, though. When she bites into my neck, hard enough that I know she’s going to leave a mark, that’s not possible. She’s marking me.

I growl. My hand wraps into her hair and I take her mouth, hard. Our lips collide, our teeth and our tongues. It’s all out of control, but then everything about what’s going on between us right now is. I bite into her lip and notice the coppery taste of blood. I slide my tongue along it, taking that too, just as I go over the edge and come in my pants like a damn kid. My tongue is taking over her mouth and I’m going to push her over with me.

“Boss!” the banging on the door stops us both.

“Fucking hell,” I mumble letting go of her mouth.  “Go away!” I yell. Ana’s lips spread into a smile.

“Boss! It’s urgent. Bruno called!”

I stiffen, regretfully pulling Ana away from me. She whimpers, but goes.

“What’s going on?” I yell again. The music in the room stops and I look down to see Ana push the button, shutting the speakers off along the back of the wall. She obviously knows the layout of the place. She’s also too fucking good at lap dancing. Why does that feel like something I should make note of?

“The police raided The Stable,” Joe says.

Motherfucker.  I look over at Ana and watch as she buttons up the shirt she had on before. All excitement has left her eyes. Something else is there now and I have no idea what.

“This isn’t finished,” I warn her.

“You better go. You might want to change, though,” she whispers, her face flushed and avoiding my eyes. I look down at my crotch and see a small wet circle reminding me that she made me come in my pants like a fucking kid.

“I’ll have a driver waiting for you out front, Ana. He’ll take you back to my place, pet, and we’ll finish this,” I tell her, my voice harsh because the last thing I want to do is leave her.

“You better go see to business,” she says with a weak smile, though she’s still not looking at me.

I grab the side of her neck and pull her to me, giving her a kiss.

“Soon, Ana. Soon,” I tell her before growling my frustration out and leaving.

“You’re late,” Paul’s voice says in my ear.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. It’s been a rough day, I’m frustrated as hell and the last thing I need is Paul bitching at me. “Have you heard anything from Allen?”

“Nothing, Ana. I’m sorry.”

“Fuck.”

“How did your meeting with Roman go?”

My meeting. I don’t have to have a mirror to know I’m blushing. I can feel the heat in my face. “I think I passed the test.”

“Good, keep your head down and stay out of his line of sight.”

Yeah, too late for that, Paul.

“Yes, daddy. Can we let it go now? We knew this was going to happen. It’ll be fine. I just need you to keep looking for Allen.”

“Ana, you need to prepare yourself for the—”

“Not now, Paul. I know you mean well, but right now I need to believe that Allen is alive. Until something shows me otherwise, I’m keeping with that.”

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll let you know if we find anything. You checking in the same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you then.”

“Stay safe,” Paul says and I mumble an, “Always,” as I click off my cheap burn phone.  I open the drawer in my bedroom and bury it under my bras and panties, then collapse on the bed, holding my head in my hands.

I fucked up so bad today. If Paul knew what had really gone down, he’d still be ripping me a new one. How did things get so out of control? I was just going to tease him and make him loosen that tight noose of control he keeps. Shake him up.

I never meant to get carried away in it too.

I barely escaped going to his home tonight. That would have been a disaster. Well, it would have definitely worked out the frustration that has filled my body, but it would have been a disaster in the long run. I snuck out the back and stayed far away from the main entrance. I saw Roman’s limo there waiting by the club. I wonder what his reaction will be when he realizes I’m not showing up. I was tempted, but today showed me that I’m completely out of control where Roman is concerned, and I can’t afford that.

I know I only bought myself a small reprieve, but it was needed. I have to figure out what I’m going to do here. To give into my body’s demands could ruin everything. Trouble is, I think I’m against the wall now and there’s no other choice. None I’m willing to make right now. None I can make.

It’s been a fucked up evening, leaving Ana like I did and seeing what a fucking mess the police left of my club.  I’m used to mild annoyances from the police with my lesser properties, but The Stable is one of the premier spots. It’s nothing to have VIP clients ranging from the hottest musicians and actors to political figures. Had this raid been on the weekend, it might have cost me plenty. As it was, I had the staff put a closed sign on the door and play it off like a fucking water leak. I paid my connections plenty to keep the story out of the press.

The cops didn’t find anything. I don’t think they’re stupid enough to think they would, which begs the question as to what they were doing. Could Ana’s questions about her brother have fallen upon the ears of a sympathetic detective trying to impress her and get in her pants? I’m going to have to quiet her down. Short of sticking my dick in her mouth, which seems like the best solution, I’m at a loss as to how.

I step out of my car, already loosening up my tie. My plan is to drink some scotch and then get lost in Ana’s body. In fact, about the only bright spot of this day is Ana. Knowing she was here waiting for me kept me from going off at the club tonight.

Disappointment hits me when Ana isn’t on the sofa when I enter my home. Then again, it’s two in the morning. She probably gave up on me and went to bed. Which works out fine, since that’s exactly where I want her. Ana and I have unfinished business, and I definitely want to finish it.

“You’re home late, Mr. Anthes. Can I heat you up some dinner?” the maid Mayra asks me almost as soon as I step through the front door.

“No thanks, Mayra. I grabbed something at the club. Did you show Ana to my room?”

“Ana?”

“Didn’t my driver drop off someone earlier?”

“No, sir. It’s been quiet all evening.”

Son of a bitch.

“Never mind, then. I must have been mistaken about the night. I’m going to crash. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight sir. Try to get some rest.”

I stomp into my bedroom, pissed the fuck off. I pick up the cordless phone on my nightstand and call my driver.

“I thought I told you to pick up Ana.”

“Yes sir, you did. I’m still waiting at the club. She hasn’t come out.”

“The club closed two hours ago. There’s no way she’s still inside. Next time I give an order, I don’t care if you have to go inside—you better make sure my orders are carried out. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes s—”

I hang up before he can finish his sentence, immediately dialing another number.

“Boss? Is something wrong?”

“I need Ana’s address and phone number,” I demand. “Now.”

“Give me a second,” Joe says, sounding put-out. “Boss, she’s a good kid. She’s not like your usual women.”

“Just get me the number, Joe.” I’m not about to get into this with him. What happens with Ana is not his business. He relays the information I need and I hang up without comment, immediately dialing the number he gave me.

“Hello?” she answers, sounding surprisingly awake for the hour.

“You’re not here, pet.”

“Roman,” she says, her voice a whispery sigh.

“Why aren’t you here, Ana?”

“Roman, what happened, I… I don’t think we should… It was a mistake.”

“The hell it was. I’m going to send a car over.”

“Roman, don’t. It’s late. I haven’t been sleeping well and I’m dead on my feet. All I want to do is crawl in my bed and sleep.”

“You can do that in my bed.”

“We both know if I give in to that, we wouldn’t be sleeping.”

“We would eventually.”

“Roman, I don’t fit into your world.”

“You’re in my world, pet. You work in my club.”

There’s silence on the phone. Then she whispers one word so quiet I strain to hear it. “Temporarily.”

“Ana, I don’t think you understand that I’m not giving you a choice in this.”

“Roman, listen to me. I know it’s hard to grasp, but I’m saying no to you.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“I noticed,” she sighs. “My life is complicated right now. I have enough on my plate. I can’t get mixed up in whatever trouble you have going on.”

“Trouble?” I question, my body going tight.

“Police don’t raid just anyone, Roman. I have a brother in trouble. He’s all the anxiety I can handle right now. He’s missing and I just—”

“My business is my business, Ana. Whatever happens between us, my professional life is not your concern. It does not touch you.”

“You can’t promise that, but it doesn’t matter. I told you, I have to concentrate on finding Allen and I just don’t have time in my life for a relationship.”

“Again, pet, I don’t do relationships and I’m not asking.”

“Gee, Roman. You don’t date, you don’t do relationships … What exactly do you do?”

“I’ll show you. Be ready. My car will be there in fifteen.”

“I can’t, Roman. At least not tonight. I just got back in after looking for my brother and I’m just too tired to move. I’m going to nap and then head out in the morning.”

Frustration runs through me at her words. Do I tell Ana and demand she gives in to me? Do I finish off her brother and say nothing? There are two clear paths and yet I don’t take either, mainly because I want Ana, but the first choice smacks of desperation and that’s not who I am. Ana will be mine. What happened between us tonight did nothing but chisel that in stone.

“I’m sending my car over. You can sleep here and sleep in.”

“Roman, I can’t. My—”

“I will help you find your brother, Ana. Now get enough stuff together for a couple of days and I’ll have my driver pick you up in twenty minutes.”

“You’ll help me find Allen?” she asks, her voice full of disbelief.

She could join the crowd. The minute I said the words, I wanted them back. It’s too late and what’s done is done. I have no fucking idea what I’m doing other than getting Ana in my bed. That seems to be the only important thing right now.

“I don’t know the particulars,” I tell her, lying, “but tomorrow we’ll talk and I’ll help you. I’m sure my contacts are better than yours.”

“Roman,” she whispers, her voice breaking.

“Twenty minutes, Ana.”

“I’ll be ready.”

“Good. See you soon,” I tell her before clicking the phone off and calling my driver and giving him Ana’s address. I go to the bar and poor myself a drink while undoing my cufflinks and putting them down. I take off the tie completely and unbutton my shirt, leaving it on. I collapse in the chair facing the bed, drink in hand.

Chasing a woman. What the hell is wrong with me? I hope I know what the fuck I’m doing.

Paul is going to kill me. Hell, I might even kill me if Roman doesn’t beat us both to the punch. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I couldn’t resist though. When Roman said he would help me find Allen, I had to give in. I’d like to play the martyr and say that’s the only reason I gave in, but it would be a lie. I wanted to see Roman again. I wanted to have this time with him. It has nothing to do with my brother. Jesus, maybe being fucked up runs in my family. I thought I might have been the one sane one, but signs are starting to point to the fact that I’m as screwed up, if not more, as my mother and Allen combined.

I spend the next fifteen minutes throwing a few things in an overnight bag and mentally berating myself. The longer I think about what I just agreed to, the more my nerves close in around me. When someone starts knocking on my door, I nearly jump out of my skin. I pull the strap of my satchel over a shoulder and walk to the door, cursing myself silently in my head.

“Who is it?”

“I’m Mr. Anthes’s driver. He said you would be expecting me.”

“I’m ready,” I tell him, opening the door. I’m also lying through my teeth. He’s a tall man, maybe about the size of Roman, but he definitely lacks his presence. He’s wearing a black suit and keeps his hand on my back the entire walk outside. He takes me to a large, black, stretch limousine.

As we approach, he opens the car door. “Ms. Stevens, there’s a minibar and television in the back.” His words go through me. I feel like Alice and I’ve stepped through some kind of rabbit hole.

The door closes and I settle inside, the leather interior feeling softer than I remember leather being before. I keep my hands in my lap, afraid to touch anything. The limo starts up, the engine running so quietly that had there not been a change in the vibration of the air around me, I’m not sure I would have noticed. The darkened partition between the front seat and the back slowly slides down.

“We’ll be there in about forty minutes, Ms. Stevens. If you need anything, there’s an intercom button on your door.”

My eyes seek out the button and find it. I turn back to the driver.

“Um. Couldn’t we just communicate like this?”

“Most of Mr. Anthes’s passengers like privacy.”

The small fine hairs on the back of my neck tingle at the chauffeur’s words. Why does it feel like by “passengers” he means “women”? That’s basically what I am, right? A woman he’s pursing for sex. I’m old enough and lived through enough that if I want a quick fling with a man—or hell, even a one-night-stand—I should feel no shame. The problem is that Roman is the last man on earth I should pick to do that with. Things are complicated and this is just going to make it more so.

“I’m not like his normal passengers,” I tell the driver, because if nothing else, I am completely sure of that. “What’s your name?’ I ask him, needing the idle conversation to still my nerves.

“Robert.”

“Hi Robert, I’m Ana.”

“Hi, Ana,” he says and smiles at me through the rearview mirror.

“Where are we going exactly?” I ask, because I have no idea.

“Mr. Anthes lives on the east side of the city. We’ll be there in no time.”

The rest of our ride is relatively quiet and full of passing small talk about the weather and the NBA playoffs, of which I know next to nothing. I figure men and sports go together easily enough, so I fake my way through the conversation. He takes me further out onto a dirt road. I didn’t know there was a place this remote in all of Miami. My survival instincts have kicked in and I feel nerves skitter down my back. Did my conversation with Roman about my brother trigger something for him? I clutch my satchel close to me.

“I thought Mr. Anthes lived in an apartment near his nightclub?” I ask Robert just as we’re rounding a curve. My tight hold on my satchel loosens as a large iron gate with a big “A” on it comes into view. You can see a paved road from that point on and it leads to a gigantic mansion beside the ocean. Hello, world. Meet money.

“He owns a hotel there and keeps the top floor to stay in, but this is his house.”

“Oh. Does he bring many people out here?”

Silence. Guess I asked too many questions.

When the car comes to a stop, I spend a few seconds to catch my breath when Robert gets out of the car. I turn when the door opens, but it’s not Robert standing there; it’s Roman. His hair is disheveled, he’s got a five o’clock shadow going, and his shirt is completely unbuttoned which leaves a line of bronze perfection to draw my eye. Instantly, I wish the shirt was gone—and then I want to slap the stupid out of me.

Roman reaches his hand in. I stare at it for a minute before putting mine in his. White hot heat runs through my system. Never has this happened to me before, this instant electric connection to someone that is so powerful, it short-circuits my brain cells. Why does the one man it happens with have to be Roman Anthes?

He helps me out, but my legs feel like jelly. I nearly fall and stumble against him. I brace myself on his chest, my fingertips burning when they touch his bare skin. His arms go around me and I get lost in the musky smell of his aftershave and the scent that is just him. Strong. Powerful. Alpha.

“That will be all for today, Robert. Put Ms. Steven’s bag inside the house,” Roman tells the driver, as if bringing a woman to his house at almost three a.m. is an everyday occurrence.

“Very well, sir.” Robert says. I hear him, but my eyes are glued to Roman’s face and the look in his eye as he watches me.

“You dance in these shoes. Is there some reason you’re having trouble walking in them?” Roman asks, his arms still around me.

“Gee. I’m going to go with nerves. My boss at work is trying to tie me in knots,” I snap.

“I do plan on tying you up, pet, but I’ll make sure you like it,” he says with a dark smile.

I think my ovaries just spontaneously combusted. I really need to get a handle on things.

I swallow at his words and ignore the shudder of excitement that runs through me. “Roman, I told you this is just not a good idea. I came here to get your help to find my brother. I’m just not looking for a relationship right now.”

“Neither am I.”

“Then why are you doing this?”

“I don’t do relationships, pet. I want to fuck you.”

His words steal my breath. How do I respond? I should slap his face. I shouldn’t be interested in this man, but there’s some type of pure male magnetism surrounding him, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that from the moment I first saw him, I wanted him. That’s what dancing for him was all about. It was reckless and stupid, but then being here is, too.

“I don’t do one-night-stands, and could you please quit calling me that? I’m not a dog.”

His deep brown eyes flick over my body.

“Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear, Ana. You don’t have a choice in this,” he says.

“What are you doing?” I cry, beating against his chest when he pulls me up in his arms, carrying me toward the front door of his home.

He grabs both of my hands in one of his, securing it around my wrists. He leans down so that our lips are just a breath apart. The heat coming off of him surrounds me and robs me of my voice.

“This will not be a one-night-stand, pet.” His dark voice slithers over me and I’m frozen, unable to move, glued to the promise written all over his face. “This will be about submission. Yours. You will give yourself to me in every way you can possibly imagine.”

“You’re crazy,” I whisper. I deny him, but I’m afraid because I can hear the surety in his voice and I’m called to it.

“On the contrary, I’m quite sane. Give me your lips, Ana.”

“This is crazy. Why would I submit to you?”

“Because I will give you more pleasure than your body could ever imagine.”

“Roman,” I start, but he doesn’t let me finish.

“And because, Ana, you won’t have a choice. Now, give me your lips.”

I pull against his hold, needing to get away from him, to breathe, to try and think, because I’m being drugged by the scent of him, by the feel of him surrounding me, by the need in his voice and the dark promises in his eyes. All of it is closing in on me and seducing me.

The harder I pull, the rougher his hold becomes on my hip until his fingers are biting into my skin. I gasp at the sting of pain and the rough way he handles me.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way, pet. I prefer the easy right now. But, I will not lie to you. I will be a happy man if you choose the hard way.  I will enjoy the fuck out of going that route with you. So, choose Ana.”

“I don’t understand,” I tell him, thoroughly confused. Perhaps it is my lack of sleep, or stress has taken its toll on me and I have completely lost it. Whatever it is, I am completely out of my depth for the first time in my life.

“Give. Me. Your. Lips.” His order comes off as dark words punctuated with heavy need. There’s no way I should obey his command. No way on earth. Yet, my head bends into him, wanting his kiss, craving it.

He takes my lips, claiming them with a fierceness that should terrify me, but instead sets my body aflame. He sucks my tongue into his mouth, torturing and teasing it with his own. He plunders every corner of my mouth, every small nook and crevice, and his taste is a mixture of alcohol, lust, and all man.

The kiss changes slowly. It becomes more about calming and enjoying instead of possessing, and only then do I break away to drag oxygen into my lungs. My breathing is heavy, my heart hammers against my chest, and my body hums with pleasure. I can feel his cock pushing into my hip and he’s rock hard. The heat from it alone brands me. I bite my lip to keep from rubbing against it like a cat in heat.

Roman stares at me for another moment, then brings my wrists up to his mouth and kisses the inside of each one before letting them go. I feel one of his hands petting my hair and a second later, his voice is at my ear. “Very good, pet. You just earned one reward.”

I have no idea what that means. I just remain silent. Words are beyond me right now. I never knew kisses like that existed and the fact that I just shared one with Roman is yet another reason to be terrified of what I’m doing. Paul is going to kill me.

I take Ana into my house and sit on the sofa with her. I keep her in my lap. My hands pet her hair and her arms, getting her used to my touch, training her to need it. She doesn’t try to get off my lap, but she starts looking around the room. I watch her face as she takes it all in, wanting to judge her reaction. She doesn’t know it, but she’s the first woman besides my employees that I’ve allowed through the doors. Then again, something tells me that Ana will be special, otherwise I wouldn’t be pursuing her this hard.

“Do you like it?” I ask, looking around the room and trying to see it from her eyes. I never thought about it really. I hired Miami’s premiere design company to decorate. There’s a lot of white with large splashes of turquoise and orange and lime greens, all colors associated with the beach and life in Miami, or so my decorator said—something about the colors being warm and vibrant. To be honest I never really cared. Now I wonder if it falls short in Ana’s eyes. I’d like to know her thoughts.

“It’s nice.”

That’s it. I may have not had other women here, but instinctively I know they would have noticed the designer’s handiwork. They would have seen the top-of-the-line furnishings and expensive paintings and had dollar signs in their eyes. Ana’s eyes are not like that. In fact, I get the feeling she doesn’t like the house at all and is trying to be nice. I don’t normally smile, but that thought has me doing so now. I have to wonder if this is the first of Ana’s surprises for the night.

I stand up and slowly let her go to the floor. She takes a breath as her feet hit the floor, but I still keep her wrapped up in my arms, not wanting to let her go completely yet. Her hands brace on my shoulders as she takes off her high heels. I’m not sure what she thinks she would hurt or why she’s bothering. I’ve never met a woman who has taken her shoes off unless they were stripping for me and a lot of those times they leave their shoes on. Being barefoot obviously feels better. Does she feel that comfortable with me? I make note to have thick carpet installed if this works out. That way, her feet can stay warm.

I lead her down the hall towards the master bedroom. I keep it on the main floor and reserve the upstairs for guest rooms, which are never used. I don’t want guests. Ever. Ana is the only one I will break that rule for.

Ana freezes at the entrance. Inside is a large king-size four-poster bed, a large television hanging on the wall and a low line sleek black dresser with matching nightstands. It has a sitting area off to the left of the bed and then behind that is an open master bath with a sunken tub and large steam shower.

“A problem, Pet?”

“Is … Is this the bedroom you want me to stay in?” she says, trying to back away.

“This is my bedroom.”

“I’ll just wait for you outside then. Or you could tell me where your guest room is.”

“You’ll be staying here with me, Ana.”

“I don’t think so.”

I ignore her comment and apply more pressure at her back to get her moving. Her eyes are focused on the bed. I wonder if, like me, she is imagining being tied to it later. I’m biding my time until I can do that very thing. There’s never been a woman in this bed. I’ve never wanted one. But I’m making another exception and it’s for the same reason. Ana.

“Have you eaten?” I ask her, pulling my shirt off.

“What? Umm … no, I guess I haven’t.”

“Good. I’ll have the cook heat up dinner for us.”

“You do realize it’s three a.m.,” she says, as I pick up the phone and inform the kitchen staff what I want.

“I don’t keep regular hours, Ana. I pay my staff enough to reflect that and reward them for understanding. I’m going to take a shower while dinner is getting heated. I’ll just be a few minutes. Unless you’d like to join me?” I ask her, putting my shirt on the bed.

“Join you?” she parrots, sitting in the chair that I keep in front of the bed. Disappointing. I would much rather have her on the bed waiting for me.

“In the shower.”

“I, uh … I think I will be fine here,” she says.

“A pity.” I like the way her eyes are drawn to my chest almost as much as I like the way the heat rises into her face.

“Listen, Roman, I’m not sure what your game is, but I think it would be best if I leave. I’m not—” Ana starts, heading to the door and showing more fire in this moment than she has since I’ve started toying with her.

“Not what, Ana?” I ask, taking a step and catching her easily. My hand encircles her waist, making sure she doesn’t get away.

“I’m not your plaything. Your pet. I don’t understand what is going on between us or what you think tonight is about. I wanted your help to find my brother. Clearly we are not on the same page. I just think it would be best if we ended it here and I get back to my world and you can find someone else to follow you around like a puppy and obey,” she says.

She gets it all out in one large breath, which is also commendable. The heat is blaring across her face, her blush so dark she glows. I commend her on showing backbone. I’m much too used to women following my commands.

My thumb brushes against the pulse point in her wrist, enjoying the erratic beat. More to the point, enjoying how I can see the outline of her nipples against her t-shirt and the way her chest rises and falls as if she’s been running. “Do I affect you, Ana?”

“Affect me?” she whispers, and I watch as her throat works when she swallows.

“Is there a part of you that wants to join me in the shower? To help me take my clothes off and finish what we started when you danced for me? Are you thinking about what it would feel like to give me your body under the hot spray of the water? To feel my hands on you, or my lips? Do you secretly want to give in to that naughty side of yourself and see if the promise in my words would be as good as it sounds?”

Her gasp echoes in the room, but it’s the way it leaves her mouth open that I respond to. I keep my hold on her wrist tight, using it to pull her even closer to me, and then I kiss her for the second time tonight, claiming her lips with a hunger and a need that I didn’t experience before Ana. This time, there’s no wait as her tongue instantly joins mine, warring with it and trying to come out victorious. I let out a deep guttural growl, feral almost. Definitely animal-like, because that’s what Ana reduces me to. Her sweet taste intoxicates me as our tongues rap around each other, fighting for dominance, and then we break apart to stare into each other’s eyes. I may have won the battle, but I’m almost definite that she has captured me in some type of trap.

Ultimately, I don’t think I care as long as I end up between her legs.

I watch as Ana’s fingers go to her bruised lips, touching them and feeling the damage I left behind. I wasn’t gentle. I never intend to be.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” she whispers, but those violet eyes of hers are shining.

“Done what?”

“The dance. It shouldn’t have happened. Just like that kiss shouldn’t have happened. This is wrong, Roman.”

“Don’t bother saving face. Before the night is through, we’ll be doing a lot more.”

“I don’t think you understand. I’m here because of my brother. I don’t just jump into men’s beds. I may take my clothes off for strangers in your club, but that doesn’t mean I do the same in private. I reserve that for a man I know, a man I like, a man I’m dating.”

“You like me.”

“We’re not dating. I don’t think you get what a date even is.”

“I get that it’s for people who are too backwards to admit what they want from each other,” I tell her, advancing on her until she backs into the side of the bed. I move so she falls back on it and then I pin her to it with the weight of my body. I grab each of her wrists and hold them above her head, making her completely helpless. Instead of screaming at me, she cries out and then bites her lip, studying my face. “I’m going to tell you exactly what I want from you, Ana. I want your body. Willingly offered to me anytime and anyway I want it. I want you submitting to me. I want your trust that no matter what I ask, you’ll do it, because you know that when it comes down to it, you will love where I take you. I want—”

“Complete control,” she whispers, interrupting me.

I smile. She gets it, and while she’s tense beneath me, she’s not trying to leave. I’ve made a fortune out of reading faces and, unless I’m totally missing something, she’s more than interested.

“Complete control,” I confirm.

“I’m not sure I’m cut out for this.”

“How about we try it out for one night and see.”

“Why me?”

“Because it’s you I want. And when I want something, I don’t stop until I get it. It’s as simple as that, Ana.”

Her head comes up off the mattress and she presses her lips gently to my mouth. Her sweet little tongue comes out to lick mine. Her eyes are wide open as she whispers.

“Do I get a safe word?” she asks.

I’m intrigued. Has she been in this type of relationship before, or does she just know things from reading or watching movies?

“You won’t need one tonight, pet. But yes, you will get one if this works out.” It’s a small lie. There’s no if; this is working out. I’m keeping her—at least until I grow bored. I have a feeling that Ana will hold my interest longer than any woman before her.

“Show me.”

Surprise. Green light. I wasn’t expecting it. I truthfully thought I would have to work for it harder. I’m a sadistic bastard and I can admit there’s a part of me that’s disappointed I’m not going to have to work for her. The part that controls my dick tells the rest of me to shut the fuck up.

“I plan on it,” I tell her, taking the kiss she offers.

I’ve lost my mind. I know I have. That’s the only explanation. I knew coming here tonight was a risk and I was insane to even think about it, but I thought I could control it—keep ahead of Roman and direct how tonight went. Maybe. Maybe I’m just lying to myself. Maybe I still am. Roman doesn’t know my real life. He has no idea who I am and the kind of person I am. My life is so swamped with responsibility, stress, and trying to take care of everyone. Roman is forbidden. Forbidden in ways that should scare the hell out of me and keep me from doing this. It doesn’t. He calls to me, and the lure of giving him complete control is too much to turn down. There’s this little voice inside that tells me I can keep up this image that Roman sees and use it to my advantage. I’ll enjoy a taste of the freedom he’s offering while getting behind his defenses. Getting closer to use him to find my brother sounds cold, but most of life is, and Roman Anthes is as coldhearted as they come. If he finds out, he’ll kill me, but he doesn’t have to find out; I just have to be careful.

All thought of bargaining or justifying goes out the window when he kisses me. His tongue pushes into my mouth and, just like before, it warms me instantly. I pull against his hold, wanting to touch him. His hold doesn’t budge. Complete control. I remind myself and I let go of everything and just feel. His kiss is slower this time, searching and conquering me. He pulls away slowly, standing up over me. My hands are free now, but for the life of me I can’t bring them down. I’m hypnotized by the look on his face.

He kicks his shoes off and somehow he manages to make that sexy. My body feels like it’s on fire. I’m struggling to force air out of my lungs and the exertion makes my body shudder with each ragged exhale. When his hands come to his belt and he begins undoing it, I forget to breathe altogether. I watch as the shiny black belt slides away from his pants. He gathers it in one hand before coming back on the bed overtop of me. He’s so much larger than me, and this time when he blankets me, it’s his chest over my face. I can’t resist placing kisses along the top of his abs and then further up the middle of his chest. His skin has a taste that goes straight to my head. Man and sex; if those were flavors, they’d be his. I finally remember I have arms again and can’t wait to touch him, to learn every contour of his body, to dig my nails into his back as he’s pounding me.

Before I can, he has my wrists again and he cinches them together in his belt. The action causes my heart to speed up, but it’s not from fear. Complete control, I hear his voice whisper in my mind. Need thrums through my blood quickly. I want this. How he knew what I craved is beyond me. It may be wrong, but I’m going to let go and gain enough memories to last me a lifetime. I pull against the belt, but it doesn’t budge. I don’t question him. I instinctively know this would be wrong. I don’t want to do anything that might stop him at this point.

I look over my head as best as I can to watch him secure the belt against the headboard. When he’s done, my hands are locked in place and there’s not a thing I can do to move them. Complete control, I hear again in my head, and along with arousal this time there is a trace of nerves. Reality tries to interfere as I watch him walk slowly and purposely to the foot of the bed and directly into my sight. He wants me to see him. He’s getting off on me being helpless. While I have to admit I am, I don’t know this man besides what I’ve read and our limited interaction. What if he goes too far? What was I thinking? I start to tell him I’ve changed my mind when he distracts me.  His hand goes to the button of his slacks. My eyes zero in on the movement and it’s almost as if everything is in slow motion as he unfastens it. Then, I watch as even slower his hand moves the zipper down. As his pants fall to the floor, his cock springs out, definitely ready to play, and I nearly lose it.

“My God,” I whisper before I can stop myself. So much for playing it cool. Until this moment, I thought I could play cool with the best of them. It’s the only way I’ve survived in my line of work; I’ve perfected it down to a science. All signs of being cool are gone now, blown completely to smithereens, and I can do nothing but stare at the massive cock between his legs. It’s at least ten inches, maybe longer, but that’s not what scares me. It’s wide. I don’t think there’s any way possible one of my hands could encircle it.

Roman laughs. “See something you like, pet?”

I lick my lips because they are so parched it feels as if I’ve not had anything to drink in months. Ever since the dance earlier today, I’ve been on edge. No. Let’s call a spade a spade. I’m horny. I have never been horny in my life. It’s another reason I can be so calm and cool. My life is chaos and there’s no time for personal needs. The few men I’ve been with have been pleasant, even good, but nothing I missed when I crawled in bed by myself at night.

“You’ll split me apart,” I tell him because apparently being horny means your filters are gone and you blurt things out without thinking.

Roman, for his part, throws his head back in the first show of full-fledged laughter that I’ve seen. Like this, he’s sexier. His body is relaxed and he doesn’t seem as distant or unreachable. Of course, it could be because with each movement of his body, his cock dances against him, tempting me even further.

“Not hardly, pet. But for now, that doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t?” I ask, watching as a thin line of clear liquid runs from the dark head of his cock and along the shaft, painting one of the large veins that bulges against the skin. My tongue comes out, wanting to taste it, to bring it into my mouth and drink it.

“No, you’re not getting my cock right now.” Angels are probably crying in heaven. I can hear them and I join them with my protesting whimper. “Shh, pet. You will get it … in due time. When you’ve earned it. For now I have a different game in mind.”

When I’ve earned it? Everything in me protests, but I shut it down. Complete control.

“What game?” I ask, unable to move my eyes from his cock. It’s hypnotizing me, the way it’s moving back and forth, taunting me with its size.

“Do you know what one of my favorite things is, Ana?”

“What?” I ask, wondering how he expects me to carry on a coherent conversation like this.

“Watching a woman completely lost in her orgasm. Watching every moment as it comes crashing down on her and seeing the exact moment that she loses touch with reality and finally lets go.”

Those words bring my eyes back to him. Perhaps I should have done that sooner, because he has something in his hand. It’s glittery and purple and has these thin straps attached to it.

“What is that?”

“Something that will make you feel really good, sweet, sweet Ana,” he says softly, putting a knee on the bed. I watch as he attaches one of the straps around my waist. His hand moves down to caress my pussy. “I love that you are bare and so beautiful. Such a delicate pink. I’m going to take real good care of this pussy, pet.” He forgot the word “wet” because I’m definitely that, and at his words, I just get wetter. There’s no time to be embarrassed because Roman’s finger slides between the lips and strokes against my swollen clit. My hips jerk off the bed, my hands pulling against the restraint without success.

“Yes, please,” I moan as he glides over it again. My body feels as if it is on fire. I don’t think it will take much to set me off. I jerk though when I feel the cold silicone slide against my pussy and push up against my clit, stretching it into place. “What’s that?”

“This is called a butterfly, sweet Ana. Have you ever played with one before?”

I try to concentrate on his words and on the excitement I felt earlier and stop the panic inside of me. “What?” I gasp, but he stills my protest with a gentle kiss against my stomach. It’s tender and sweet and completely different from what is going on between us.

He leaves the bed and I notice a chair behind where he was standing before. I was so engrossed in him, I didn’t notice it earlier. I do now because he sits in it, naked as the day he was born, though obviously there’s a lot more to him now. He seems like this is just another day for him. Maybe it is. Right now, he appears to not have a care in the world, as if he doesn’t have me tied to the bed—

All thoughts end as I feel a soft vibration begin fluttering against my pussy. It’s soft, barely more than a ghost touch, a tease, just enough to get my attention. I swallow hard, my body heated and my breath short. The blood is thrumming through my veins and echoing so loud in my ears that I’m sure Roman can hear it. He shows no sign of it. He sits there in silence. In fact, the only sound in the room is my ragged breathing and the quiet hum of the vibrator. I can do nothing but watch him. Time has ceased to have meaning. I know it’s been awhile. Twenty minutes? Thirty? It could have been even more and nothing new happens. Except…

The small stimulation is starting to get to me. I can feel the changes in my body: the tightening in my breasts, the creamy wetness I can feel dripping from my pussy … it all slowly directs me to an edge I know I will eventually fall over. There’s nothing I can do to stop it—or to come. I would definitely take that choice. My hands pull against the bindings, but it doesn’t let me move. With each passing moment, my need increases. My body twists and turns, trying to find what it needs, but nothing I’m doing helps.

“Roman, please,” I whimper, needing more.

“Very good, pet. You just earned a reward.”

Reward? Why does he keep saying that?

My brain is hazy, the needs of my body and its demands taking over. I try to make sense out of what he is saying, but can’t. It becomes crystal clear however just a minute later. The vibrator shifts speeds and moves faster. Its pulsations rake through my body.

“Oh, God,” I whine. My body feels as if there’s a fire running through it, burning me from the inside out.

“No, pet. Roman, not God.”

His gravelly voice hits me and my insides flutter even more. He could own my soul with that voice. Not God? Maybe he’s not. Maybe he’s the Devil himself, a beautiful lost angel sent down to destroy my soul.

“Beg me, pet. Ask me for what you want,” he continues.

I stretch my body, my back curving as I moan out his name. Feeling nothing but pleasure as the vibration hits exactly on my clit and around it all at the same time. It feels as if he’s delivering soft kisses over and over against the most sensitive part of me. I imagine it’s Roman’s tongue teasing my clit over and over. I squeeze my legs together as I feel my climax begin to build. I give in and give him exactly what he wants.

“Roman, please. More. I need more,” I tell him, my eyes connecting with his. I’m completely at his mercy. He’s watching everything I do. I see a trace of a smile on his lips. It’s beautiful, but it’s his hands that my vision is drawn to. He’s working his cock. His hand is sliding back and forth on his shaft. It’s glistening and slick with his pre-cum. He stands up, revealing his other hand, the one holding the remote. He flicks his thumb and instantly I feel the vibrations from the toy increase. My body bows in half as my legs come onto the mattress. I push my lower body up in the air, looking for more. Needing more of whatever I can find, but finding nothing. Visions of his cock thrusting inside of me, widening and stretching me and owning my body, instantly come to mind. I picture his cock pounding harder and harder deep inside of me. Just those thoughts are enough to bring me to my limit.

“Roman! I’m going to come!”

“Not yet, pet. You can’t come until I tell you to.”

I do my best to focus on him. He can’t be serious.

“Roman, I can’t.”

“Not until I tell you, pet. Your pleasure is mine,” he instructs.

“I can’t wait, Roman. I have to…”

I break off my words when he turns the vibrator off completely. I cry out in frustration. The disappointment is so severe that tears sting my eyes. I want to curse him, to scream and throw things. But then I can’t. He asked for this. Complete control.

“Please, Roman. Make me come,” I beg him. “Please,” I add, so there can be no doubt how desperate I am, or that I doubt he is in charge.

That seems to satisfy him because he turns the vibrator back on. I moan and literally weep in relief. Instantly the orgasm starts building again. I tap down my desire. I don’t want to make Roman unhappy again. I need everything he is giving me.

“Can I come, Roman? Please? It’s… I’m so close. I need to come.” I’m not sure what I’m telling him at this point. I just know I’m begging and needing his approval. I didn’t even realize my eyes were closed until I feel his hand on my stomach. I look at him as he flips the switch on the remote again. My breath stalls, wondering exactly what will happen. The speed is the same, though the vibrations are deeper. There’s a pulsing beat added into the mix now. I feel heat flush through my body. I know I’m gone now. There’s no way I can hold back any longer. “Roman,” I plead.

“Come, pet. Come for me,” he tells me.

I detonate as my climax rockets through me, crashing down on me in wave after heavy wave. I ride it out, my body on an overload of pleasure, and the source is all coming from Roman. Just when I’m about to calm down, he must hit another button on the control. I can’t even describe what it does. It feels as if a hundred and one fingers are manipulating my clit at once. I go over the edge again, screaming Roman’s name. His large hand rubs against my stomach, caressing me. My eyes search him out again. He’s out of focus because I think most of my body is floating somewhere in another universe, but I see him. He’s stroking his cock. Streams of pre-cum drip off of his shaft, covering his hand and then dripping down onto my skin. I moan as aftershocks of my latest orgasm shake my body. That’s when I feel the first heated splash of his cum coat my stomach as he comes with me. On me.

“Something wrong, pet?” I ask Ana as we sit at the table.

After our first little playtime, we showered together. I washed her hair and her body, making sure to get her pussy off with my fingers. I wanted to fuck her right there, but part of the fun in breaking in a new toy is taking your time and enjoying the slow ride until they wonder if you will ever give them what they really want.  Ana is a bit different, though. I’m having to fight myself to hold back, and that’s never happened before. How many times has this woman surprised me? I’m losing count. I’ve never had that in my life. I’ve always known how people will react. It’s what has made me successful over the years.

This woman surprises me every time I turn around.

“I could probably eat better in my own chair,” she says, a fine pink tint spreading on her face. How she can blush after the way she just came, is yet another surprise. She doesn’t hide her reactions to me. She doesn’t have a mercenary bone in her body that I can find. It’s refreshing.

She’s in my lap, and we’re sitting at the dining room table waiting while my cook heats up the spaghetti and bolognaise sauce. I put a white silk robe on her and brushed her hair and she looks even younger than she did before. If I hadn’t read her file I’d have to ask her if she was legal. She sure as hell doesn’t look twenty-seven.

“There’s no need. I’m going to feed you.”

“You’re going to feed me?” she asks, her face registering her shock.

“Complete control tonight. Remember?”

She still feels tense in my hands, but she relaxes a little more. Mayra, my maid, brings water, a plate of food, and a basket of bread.

“Thank you,” Ana says, but Mayra doesn’t acknowledge her, which makes the blush on Ana’s face darken. I may have to have a talk with my staff. I immediately dismiss the idea. I will be putting Ana up in her own apartment. The point is moot.

I wrap some of the spaghetti around my fork and bring it to her mouth. She opens, sucking the noodles inside her mouth. “That’s good,” she says.

“My chef is good. I demand the best from the people around me,” I tell her, feeding her again.

“I’m picking up on that. What happens when something is beyond your control?” she asks, her hand coming up to catch some of the sauce which has been caught on her lip.

“That rarely happens. I told you I like—”

“Complete control. Yeah, I kind of got that from what happened in the bedroom and shower.”

I pull her hand to my mouth and suck off the remnants of the sauce she has there, letting my tongue glide around her finger before releasing it.

“Exactly.”

“Am I going to be calling you Daddy before the night is over?” she asks, reaching over and pulling out some of the noodles with her fingers. Her head goes back to let the noodles slink into her opened mouth. My cock pushes up against her ass. I should reprimand her for feeding herself, but since it’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve seen and my eyes are still glued to the way she’s sucking the red meat sauce off her fingers, I don’t.

“Some have. Others, no. That is completely your choice, as long as you give me what I want,” I reply, watching her feed herself again.

This time she stops before swallowing the spaghetti down to look at me. “Then no thank you. I had one Daddy. He wasn’t that great. And please, can we not refer to your other pets? I don’t want to lose my appetite.”

“Jealous?”

“Just trying to forget the fact that I’m just one in a succession of women for you.”

I let that remark slide because she’s not wrong, even if discussing this with her feels wrong.

“Tell me about your daddy.”

“I’d rather not. That’s another subject that will make me lose my appetite.”

“Is that so?” I ask her, suddenly envious of spaghetti.

She sucking more of them down her mouth and, at my words, she stops when the last of them disappear into her mouth. I grab the noodles this time, holding them over her lips. I hold them a little high so I can watch while her delicate neck stretches up. She sucks them into her mouth slowly, her eyes on me the entire time. She’s deliberately trying to turn me on, even while she’s blushing wildly. The combination is sexy as hell.

“Not like you. I mean, I was talking like a father, but he doesn’t really qualify for that either. He gives the term ‘dead-beat-dad’ a new meaning.”

“I see. And your mother?” I ask her, already knowing the answer but enjoying the way she’s opening up so frankly to me. No games. No hidden meanings. Ana doesn’t do mysterious or coy and I like it. She’s also not trying to buy me with sympathy. Too many women have tried to make me their meal ticket by giving me sob stories. It never seemed to matter that I didn’t really care what their stories were. Ana might be different in that respect too—yet another surprise.

“She split before my father did. Though she did make appearances here and there, mostly when she needed money. I won the lottery in the parental department,” she says, reaching around for the bread. She grabs a piece, but before she can do anything with it, I take it away. She starts to protest, but I pinch a corner off of it and pop it into her waiting mouth, letting my finger slide over her bottom lip, the butter from the bread makes the touch on her lips smooth.

“Who raised you?”

“My father didn’t go MIA until I was sixteen.” She shrugs, leaving me to fill in the blanks. Which I do.

“Was it just you and your brother?” I prod, wondering exactly what she will say.

“Yeah. Drink, please?” she asks this time, instead of getting it herself. I get the water and guide it to her lips. She scrunches up her face but takes a drink.

“I’m not really a water drinker,” she says.

“It’s good for you.”

“So’s spinach. I find I don’t like it, either,” she says, her nose curling.

“But water is very useful.” I put the glass down on the table.

“To grow spinach?”

“To make you wet,” I tell her, shifting her body so that she has a leg on either side of me now and her back is against the table.

“I know of other things that do that,” she whispers, biting on the corner of her mouth again, which I’ve come to realize is a nervous gesture of hers.

I reach into the glass with one hand capturing a piece of the ice. I flick the sash to her robe loose, revealing one of her breasts. I put the cube into my mouth sucking it in and then letting the tip out. I lower my lips to her, letting the ice hover there. She sucks the tip, her eyes open.

“Roman,” she whispers brokenly, her voice laced with hunger. I lean down so I can rake the ice down her chin, following an imaginary line down her beautiful neck. An immense feeling of satisfaction comes over me when I see the trail of wetness I leave in my wake. Her head is back, allowing me access, and after a couple of passes down her neck, I move to her breast. I circle the outside. Ana really has gorgeous breasts. They’re big, but not obscenely so. I can cover them with my hand and they are full, soft, and pliable. Perfect, really. I move the ice around her areola. Her nipple, which was already hard, is pebbled so tightly it looks painful. The ice is almost gone, so I move to her other nipple, letting the icy water drip down. It’s stunning to watch the way the water drips and runs around the nipple and then along the fine ridges that have been made on her areola because of her excitement. I watch until I can’t anymore, and then I take the nipple in my mouth, my tongue swirling the last remnants of the ice around, and I suck it so hard it may bruise. A combination of the cold and my mouth makes Ana cry out. Her hands go to my head and she tries to drag me into her. When I finish, I pull away to look at the stormy violet depths staring back at me. They’re full of hunger and need.

“Your dinner is getting cold, pet,” I remind her, doing my best not to grind against her body. My cock is as hard as brick, pushing up against her bare pussy. The sweatpants I pulled on do nothing to block out the feel of her.

“I’m not hungry for food,” she whispers.

My hands flex into her hips, biting into them, and even the sting of that doesn’t bother her. I pull her roughly to the side, using my hand to swipe the dishes from the table. They fall to the pristine granite floor in a heap of broken glass, porcelain dishes, and food.

“What are you—” Ana rasps, grabbing my shoulders tight as I stand up, placing her on the table.

“Having my dinner. I’m starved,” I growl, putting pressure on her chest so she falls gently back, flat against the table.

“Roman, the mess—your maid,” Ana whispers, but I ignore her. My fingers bite into her ass as I pull her into me.

“Fuck the mess, pet,” I tell her, just before my tongue pushes between the lips of her pussy and her taste fills my mouth. What is it about her? What is it that makes this woman irresistible? When I was younger, women were a must. For a while now though, building my business and making my name took precedence. I’ve had a few partners. Handpicked, backgrounds checked, and contracts signed. Sex is a business just like every other thing in my life.

Until now. I’ve broken every rule I’ve ever had with Ana. She’ll definitely be mixing business with pleasure, considering I’ll most likely kill her brother.

There’s no contract in place, which is a major concession. And here I am, a grown man of forty-two, diving into the pussy of a woman I haven’t had medically examined. That should be enough to cool me off and make me pull back. The fact that it’s not is worrisome, but right now I couldn’t care less.

“Roman,” she breathes.

If you can get addicted to the way someone says your name, then I am definitely there. I flatten my tongue and slide it through her cream until I hit her swollen clit. I suck the nub into my mouth, using the pressure and my teeth to tease and torment it. Her hands reach for my head and I pull up.

“Keep your hands down, Ana. I’ll give you everything you need.”

Her body jerks in response and her hands slam down on the table. I use my fingers to pull the lips of her pussy apart. She’s beautiful. All feminine heat that is slick, wet, pale pink with darker hues slowly fading in. A work of art. I blow across the tender flesh and watch the skin react, as her clit literally pulsates. I put two of my fingers against the needy little button. Then I slowly drag them over her clit and further down until I get to her entrance. There I push the fingers, which are now coated with her juices, into her tight channel. Again my dick reacts strongly by pushing up towards her like the desperate bastard he is. He wants inside her. I want inside her. I try to hold on to why I am denying myself. I’ve never had a problem with doing that before. I never lose sight of the prize and I keep a tight leash on my desires. Ana has already managed to get me to loosen the reins way too much. I will not take her pussy until things are clearer, ground rules are set, and her body is demanding me beyond anything she’s experienced before. I want Ana bound to me … at least until I’m done with her.

I groan because her whole body physically shivers at my invasion. The walls of her pussy clamp down on my fingers, trying to pull them deeper inside. I begin moving them in and out of her, loving the way her juice pours from her and the wet sounds it makes as I fuck her slow and hard.

“More,” she whimpers, her hands going up to palm her breasts. I watch, fascinated at the way her fingers bite into those plush mounds. The skin stretches as she pulls on her nipples. I should reprimand her for taking that privilege, but it’s too beautiful to watch. It’s so erotic I want to watch longer, but I can’t resist her pull. I place a kiss against her clit and then slide my tongue around her sweet pussy, gathering all the cream I can find while I continue to fuck her with my fingers. When her body starts thrusting up to meet my fingers and her moans grow louder, I know she’s near the edge.

“Are you close, pet?” I ask her, allowing my breath to fan over her pussy before sliding my tongue back against her clit and twirling it over and over, sucking it into my mouth.

“Yes,” she whispers, her voice full of desperation as she tries to grab hold of her orgasm. “Oh God, Roman. I’m coming.” The last part of her sentence is drawn out in a long whine of need.

I pull away, leaving my fingers inside of her, but refusing to move them.

“Did I give you permission to come, Ana?”

“What? No!” she cries, her body shaking so much I can watch how it quakes.

“You can’t come until I tell you to, pet.”

“Roman!”

“I’m going to play with you a little longer. If you’re a good girl, I’ll let you come.”

“Yes!” she cries as I pull my fingers out and then thrust them back in. Her body bows, trying to latch on tight enough to give her what she needs. Every movement she makes is poetry. I thought she was beautiful dancing. It was nothing compared to this. And her taste. It’s like nothing I’ve experienced before and far more addicting than any drug. I can’t resist diving back in. I let my tongue move along the heated folds of her pussy, sliding my tongue inside with my fingers. I repeat that a couple of times, working in tandem to excite her even more, until I finally direct all of my attention back to her clit.

I know I’m pushing her past her limits. I know that she doesn’t have the discipline needed to pass this test. I have no business even bringing her this far into my world without ground rules. I know all this, I just don’t give a fuck. In my mind, I’m yelling, Don’t come, Ana, even knowing she will. I have fallen under her spell. She’s been so naturally submissive up to this point that I could forget this is new to her. I doubt she even realizes how truly submissive she is.

“Roman, I’m coming,” she gasps, which is really her undoing, because now I push her further.

“Not yet, pet,” I warn her before I suck her clit into my mouth, humming against the nub while pushing my fingers deep inside of her. I pull my fingers apart, stretching her just as my teeth bite into the tender flesh of her clit. The sting of pain throws her over the edge into a climax. I give her just a little more, allowing her to fully go over the edge. Then, it takes every bit of willpower I have to take my mouth and hand away, ensuring that her orgasm, though complete, never truly takes her where it could. It just leaves her needing more.

“Roman?” she asks, confused. Her violet eyes are smoky as she slowly opens them.

“I told you not to come,” I tell her.

Shock fills her face. She shuffles to sit on the table. I use my hands on her hips to help brace her. “I… you… can’t…”

“Now you have to be punished, Ana.”

“Punished?” she squeaks.

“It’s your first offense, so I’ll go easy on you.”

“Easy on me?” she parrots.

My thumb moves along her bottom lip, following the curve. I push against it, letting just the tip of my thumb push into her mouth.

“I’m going to fuck this pretty little face.”

She doesn’t respond, but I don’t miss the way she squirms at my words.

She might be the most perfect partner I’ve ever played with.

I jerk awake with a start. I’m surprised I slept at all. I haven’t been able to get more than a few hours a night since Allen started getting into trouble. Roman is sleeping beside me, his hand strung across my stomach. The temptation to stay is strong. The heat of his body lures me in, and there’s so much more I want to experience. For all that we’ve done, I’ve not had him inside of me yet, and I ache for that. Hunger for it. I’ve had a few relationships and I’ve always known that I like for a man to take control, but none have been as dominate and demanding as Roman was. I even have the feeling that he was holding back. I would love to explore more with him. That would be bad. For several reasons.

I want to stretch against him and relax back into his warmth. I can’t. I can’t stay here. I need to meet with Paul and I need to see if he’s managed to get any more leads on Allen. I can’t help but stare at Roman for a minute. Asleep, he looks different. Still devastatingly handsome and breathtaking, but his face is softer, relaxed … even peaceful. I’ve spent the last couple of days kicking myself for being attracted to Roman. It goes against everything I stand for. I know what kind of man he is. I know the things he does. All of that should make me run in the opposite direction. Yet, here I am in bed with him, breaking every rule I’ve put in place, and not even able to drum up enough guilt to care. In fact, if he was to wake up right now, I’d give myself to him again.

I should have never crossed that line. Now I’m afraid I’ll never be able to go back.

I try to slide out of the bed, but Roman’s hand stops me, pulling me back into him. At first I’m afraid I’ve woken him, but he mumbles and shifts in his sleep. I hold myself as still as humanly possible, but doing so causes me to breathe in his scent, and this tiny frisson of need blooms in my stomach and moves through my body. Good Lord, he’s more addicting than any drug on the market. Once he settles down, I try once again to slide away. He protests at first, his fingers pressing into my side. No one has ever tried to hold on to me, in bed or out, and the fact that Roman is, really messes with my head.

I push it away. I can’t fixate on that right now. I carefully replace my body with the pillow above my head and, inch by inch, pull away. It takes me awhile to gather my clothes, mostly because I keep looking back expecting Roman to catch me. Insanity. He’ll probably be glad I’m going. He doesn’t seem the type to indulge in awkward morning-after conversation.

I have my satchel, but I’m afraid to take the time to find clean clothes, so I put my underwear and bra back on in disgust. I’ve never done it before. Is this what makes the walk of shame so… shameful? Then, I hold the rest of the clothes and my overnight bag tight to my chest and carefully leave the room. I can get dressed with less worry in the living area. I’m pulling up my pants when I hear movement to my right. My eyes look up and that’s when I see the maid from last night. She’s shooting me a look much like I imagine Medusa would use when turning her victims to stone.

“Um… I was just going to…”

“Leave? Don’t let me stop you. Mr. Anthes doesn’t normally like his whores to be here when he wakes up, so you should hurry. The few that overstayed their welcome wish they hadn’t.”

I’m completely taken aback. Her words smack me harder than any physical blow would. If looks could kill, I would be dead.

“I’m sorry about the dishes. I could help.” Even as I’m saying the words, I hate them, but I need to not make enemies. I do not need someone dying to destroy me, especially in Roman’s home.

“The last thing I need is your help,” she replies cattily.

Well, it can’t get any clearer than that. I quickly put my shirt and socks on, then walk to the door.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” I say again. Really, at this point I want to kick my own ass.

“Just make sure you didn’t steal anything. Mr. Anthes will not look kindly towards a thief.”

Look kindly? Steal? Thief? There so much there to dislike and the words make me swallow the acid that has churned up from my stomach. I want to scream at her and maybe throat-punch her, kick her in the lady-junk. Something.

Instead, I ignore her, which is no consolation. I quietly open the door and step outside. I lean against it and take a large breath, feeling like I just escaped prison. My body jumps when I hear the click of the lock from the other side. The maid, no doubt. Bitch. I take a deep breath and then walk away. If I hurry, I’ll have just enough time to shower before I meet Paul. The last thing I need is to go see him while smelling like sex—like sex with Roman. I can only imagine the lectures that will get me.

“The next time you decide to text me at six in the morning and ask me to meet you in thirty minutes, the least you could do is be on time, Ana,” Paul says, his gravelly voice ringing out in the empty warehouse. We’re meeting in an abandoned warehouse about three blocks from the apartment I’m renting. I think it used to be an old dog food factory. Now it’s just empty cement that smells musty, dirty, and—just to add spice—seems to have a faint smell of urine. Whether it’s human or animal, I couldn’t begin to know, and don’t care to find out.

“It’s just ten minutes. Stop whining, Paul. You sound like an old mother hen,” I tell him, grabbing the coffee he’s handing me. Coffee, sweet nectar of the gods. It’s the only thing that keeps me going these days.

“Someone needs to worry about shit around here. You sure aren’t. What the hell do you think you’re doing, Ana?”

I freeze with my lips against the plastic lid on the container and close my eyes. Shit. Fuck. Damn. He knows. “I don’t know what you mean,” I bluff.  “I don’t have much time though, so give me what you guys got at the raid yesterday.”

“What are you doing, Ana?” he repeats, but his voice is softer this time, the type of voice I imagine a father using on his daughter. Well, a good one. I never had one of those, but I can imagine it. And Paul is everything I wish my father had been. At fifty-two, he’s stern but caring, and has been a great role model. He’s helped me turn my life around. So, it’s not easy seeing the disappointment in his eyes right now.

“Please, Paul, let it go. Brass told me they wanted me to get close to Roman.”

“They didn’t mean his bed.”

“That’s not the first time a UC went beyond for a case. Don’t try to convince me I’m wrong.”

“It’s not, but that doesn’t make it right, and those guys have been with the DEA for fucking years; they’re one step away from going vigilante. That’s not who you want to model your career after. Shit, girl. You’re a fucking beat cop. The higher-ups only put you in this position because it involved your brother.”

“And it’s working, right?”

“Ana.”

“Paul, I have to try and get my brother out of this mess alive. If I can do that, that’s all that matters.”

“And kiss your career goodbye?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

“That’s crazy talk, kid. You don’t want to ruin your career over this. It doesn’t matter what you do, your brother’s still going to prison. You have to know that.”

“Maybe that’s the best thing for him. He can get clean behind bars,” I argue. He gives me that look. The one that says I’m being naïve. Maybe I am. I know drugs are thick in the prisons too, but he stands a chance of getting clean there. If he stays free, he’s going to die.

If he’s not already dead.

“Ana, you need to face facts.”

“Can you please just let this drop and tell me what they found in the raid?”

Paul sighs, but thankfully he lets it go. I know it’s just a temporary reprieve, but still I’m grateful.

“Nothing, kid. Much like we thought. We only did it to distract him and try to rescue you without closing down the investigation. That obviously didn’t work.”

I concentrate on my coffee and ignore the heat in my face.

“You’re having me tailed.”

“You had to know that. You might be deep undercover, but there’s no way they’re going to trust you not to fuck shit up—and not just because you’re Allen’s sister.”

“Because I’m a rookie.”

“Because you’re not even DEA. There’s too much invested to rest it on an unknown.”

“So there’s someone else undercover besides me?”

Paul’s silence speaks volumes. Shit. Fuck. Damn. I finish off the last of my coffee, going over the people I’m in contact with, trying to figure out who the fuck the other agent is. I sure as fuck don’t need someone getting me pulled from this case. Shit, I don’t want them to decide to close it down and bring Roman in either. Their first priority will not be my brother.

“We need you to take these and plant them in Roman’s bedroom. It’s the only room we’ve been unable to get a device in, undetected,” Paul says, handing me a small white envelope.

“Same drill as before?” I ask, stuffing the paper into the front pocket of my jeans.

“Yeah, try to keep them as close to the bed as you can, or the desk in his room.”

“Got it,” I tell him, trying to ignore the way I feel guilt at doing my job. I didn’t choose the life Roman has. I should have nothing to feel guilty about. Nothing.

“Try to remember that they’re there, will you? The last fucking thing you need to do is have Brass hear you taking it up the ass by one of their most-wanted kingpins.” I grow pale at his words. He’s upset, I get that. I didn’t expect that from him, however.

“I’ll just be going, now,” I tell him, turning away to leave.

He grabs my arm to stop me. “Ana, listen…”

I turn slightly so I can see him. “I think you’ve said enough. I appreciate the advice and concern, but at twenty-six, I will make my own decisions and live with the consequences. I don’t need anyone talking down to me.”

“Ana, you don’t understand…”

“I’ll check in tomorrow, Paul,” I interrupt him and walk out with him saying my name to my back. I’m not mad, not really. He’s right. I did let it go too far. He’s also wrong because I didn’t do it for Allen. I’m not about to tell him that, however. It’s too late to go back and I don’t want to. It’s a moot point because as I jog around the corner heading towards my apartment, I see Roman standing on my doorstep, in his suit, coat, and gloves. He’s angry, I can tell that even from this distance. What I notice most, however, is the way my pussy clenches and the butterflies in my stomach when he turns his gaze on me.

It’s much too late to change anything.

I watch her jogging up to me like she doesn’t have a care in the world. As beautiful as she is right now in her jeans and pale blue tank with her hair pulled up on top of her head, I want to spank her ass. She stops two steps down from where I’m perched by the door to her brownstone apartment.

“Where have you been, pet?”

“Running,” she says, her voice breathless.

“Most people run in exercise clothes.”

“Seemed like an expense I didn’t need to worry about. I don’t get to run that often.” She shrugs.

It bothers me. Has she been going without to cover for her damned brother? She can’t run in jeans. It will chaff the inside of her thighs, and since I now have plans for those beauties, that is unacceptable.

“You ran from my bed this morning.”

“You were sleeping. It didn’t seem right to wake you. I needed to get back to my apartment and start my day.”

“You could have started it in my bed.”

“I’m not sure that would have been a good idea.”

“I’m positive it would have been,” I tell her, sliding my fingers along the base of her neck and cupping the side of her face. “Because then I could have started my day in you.” I watch as her eyes dilate as I bring her closer to my lips.

“I can see how that might have been … preferable,” she whispers. Our lips are almost touching and her tongue darts out to lick against my bottom lip. I capture it, bringing it into my mouth. Somehow, her taste is even better this morning. I could be in trouble with this girl because just this has calmed the anger I had building inside me upon finding her gone. I deepen the kiss, letting my tongue play and becoming familiar with her again.

“That’s better,” I tell her when our lips break apart.

“Good morning to you, too,” she tells me.

“You sneaking out on me is unacceptable, pet.”

“I needed to get back to my world and find my brother,” she says.

Her words put me on edge. “I told you I would help you do that.”

“I know, but we kind of got distracted, and I know you just agreed to help me to—”

“To what?”

“Get in my pants.”

“And you figure now that I’ve achieved that, I won’t worry about your brother?”

“Something like that,” she admits. I let my thumb move back and forth over her cheek, studying her. With any other woman, she’d be right.

“You gave yourself to me, pet. I’ll take care of you, and that means helping you find your brother.”

Her eyes study me and I can see distrust in her eyes. She has good reason to feel like that. It doesn’t mean I like it, however.

“I’ll trust you.” Why does it feel like she’s telling much more than what her words are saying? What is this woman doing to me? “Where do we start?” she asks.

“Breakfast, pet. Then we’ll discuss business.”

For a second I think I see disappointment in her eyes, but she nods her agreement. I take a step away from her, which isn’t easy. I hold out my hand, and something shifts inside of me when she places her small hand in mine and squeezes it.

“Roman, people are staring,” Ana complains.

We’re sitting in the middle of a breakfast chain restaurant. A type of place I can’t say I’ve stepped foot in for years. I let Ana pick where we went and from the look in her eyes, I know she thought she would shake me with her choice. What she doesn’t realize is that things like this might be one of the reasons she appeals to me so deeply. According to the menu, our entire meal will probably be covered with twenty bucks. The women before her would have picked a place where twenty dollars wouldn’t have covered the tip.

“You’re imagining it, pet.”

“Not hardly, Anthes. Is there a reason you always insist I sit in your lap?”

“Anthes?”

She smirks, putting a forkful of pancakes in my mouth. The blueberry and sugary syrup combine in my mouth, and though it’s good, it’s not even a comparison to the taste of Ana. “If it bothers you, imagine I’m calling you Daddy. Or do you prefer Master?”

The little minx. She’s full of sass and I apparently love it because my dick is demanding its turn at training her. My lips find her ear and she giggles, pulling her head down to try and halfheartedly get away. My fingers dig into her thigh at the same time that my teeth bite into her earlobe. She gasps from the small dose of pain, and I feel a gentle shudder travel through her body.

“Roman,” she murmurs, and motherfucker, if my dick isn’t leaking on my leg.

“You’re tempting me to show you who is in charge, right here in the middle of this restaurant. Keep it up, pet, because I would like nothing better than to fuck you.”

“You wouldn’t,” she answers, but I can hear the doubt in her words as her entire body goes still.

“In a fucking heartbeat,” I assure her and I’m completely serious.

“Maybe we should talk about something else,” she suggests, and the look on her face is so sweet that I kiss her on the lips. Her tongue pushes into my mouth, deepening the kiss, and I let her explore while I take another hit of her addictive flavor. I was right; she’s definitely more potent than any drug.

When I break the kiss, I pick up one of the sausage links, forgetting my fork. I bring it to her lips and she opens, deliberately taking the food inside and wrapping her tongue around it as she goes. Her ass wiggles around on my lap, torturing my cock. She plays for a few more minutes, purposefully teasing with the food, before eating it.

“You keep wiggling around like that and we’re going to have a repeat of what happened during your dance. While I did love it, the next time I come it will be inside of you.”

Her cheeks somehow blush again. I’m getting used to this, how her almost innocent side mixes with the wicked woman and constantly entertains me. I’m starting to think she might be the first woman I’ve ever met who will never bore me. A woman like that is someone you could … keep. That’s insane though. I’m not that man. It’s time I bring this conversation around to something which will keep her from working her spell on me. She’s different, but she’s just a woman.

“Tell me how you found out your brother was missing.”

She stiffens in my arms, and I hate that I took the playful look off her face. I’m even starting to hate the fact that I’m the fucker who has her brother.

“Allen always disappears. I’ve grown used to it. He fell into the wrong crowd when we were younger and despite everything I tried, I wasn’t able to pull him back. I’ve been losing my brother for years.”

“And you still are trying to find him?”

“He’s my brother. The only family I have.”

“What if he gets you hurt in the meantime?”

“I can take care of myself. Been doing it for a long time now.”

I don’t like that reply. I don’t like it at all. There’s fuck-all I can say, though.

“Where was the last place he was seen?” I ask, even as I’m kicking myself. What would she do if I took her to her brother now? He’s slowly healing. I didn’t want him looking as if he was a step away from death, in case I had to show him to Ana. I’m not desperate enough to use him to get Ana in my bed; I knew I could manage that on my own. But to keep her from getting the police into checking my club out and other things in hopes of finding him? That’s the reason—and the only reason—her brother is still drawing air.

“Your club, The Stable.” It takes all my years of playing poker and bluffing my way out of tight spots combined not to react. “It’s why I started working for you in the first place. The Stable wasn’t hiring. I had dancing experience. Dive was hiring.”

“How did you know I owned both?”

She shrugs, taking a drink of her coffee. “That was a coincidence. I had been living in Boca, a little over an hour from here. I needed a job here in Miami that would pay decent and keep me in the general area. It worked out.”

“Conveniently,” I answer, making a note to have my man track down more info about her being in Boca. I didn’t recall that in the file Joe showed me.

“I’m not going to lie, Roman. I’m glad it did, and not just because of my brother,” she whispers.

“Really?” I ask, letting myself get lost in the look in her eyes. My hand slides along the inside of her thigh, stopping just an inch from her pussy. The heat I feel from her even through her jeans is intense. The muscles in her thighs tighten under my hand.

“Really,” she whispers.

“I’ll get my people working on trying to track your brother down.” Her body goes tense in my arms.

“You mean it?”

“I don’t waste my time saying things I don’t mean, pet. You need to prepare yourself, though; if he’s as far gone as you say he is, there might not be any saving him.” Her violet eyes go sad and I find myself wishing I was a different person, a man who could slay dragons for her. Fuck. I need inside her so these damn reactions to her will stop. The best remedy I’ve found for almost anything is to fuck it out of your system. Ana is just one more in a list. Fucking her until I grow bored will be more pleasurable than anything I’ve done before.

“Roman?” she asks, that pretty little tongue of hers coming out to catch a drop of syrup on her lip.

“Yes, pet?”

“Take me home.”

Her voice is husky, and those damn eyes of hers are liquid. I know what she needs, but I want the words.

“Why, Ana?”

“I need you to fuck me,” she says bluntly, and though her voice is soft, the people around us can hear and she doesn’t seem to give a damn. I throw a hundred on the table and stand up, bringing Ana with me. Her body is close to mine, her legs wrapped around my hips, her hands hugging my neck while she buries her head in my chest. The sound of the chair I was sitting in, scraping and rocking from my quick movements are echoed, because the room goes silent. I walk her straight out to the limo, ignoring everyone but Ana.

Roman somehow manages to fit his wide frame and mine through the door of the limo. He even manages to get the car door closed. That’s good because I immediately go to my knees on the floor, undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. I get the top part of his chest exposed, then stretch up to drag my tongue along the skin, licking and placing gentle kisses. I’m hoping if I distract him enough that he forgets about the fucking slip I made.

It was a damned rookie mistake. How could I have said he was the reason I started working at Dive? I hope I covered good enough, but the minute the words left my mouth, I saw questions in Roman’s face. So I did what women everywhere have been doing for years: I distracted him with sex.

It’s just one more thing for Paul to throw in my face later.

I can’t worry about that right now, because what started out as distraction has turned into a wildfire that is definitely out of control. I start to work on more buttons, eager to taste the salty male flavor that is Roman. He stops me by wrapping his fist in my hair and yanking my head back hard. My heart rockets into my throat thinking I’ve failed and he’s about to interrogate me about our conversation. I’m so fucked up over Roman. I’d never admit it to Paul, but I’m losing sight of the reason I’m here. I’m losing sight that this is about my own brother, so much so that when he pulls my hair so violently that the rough pain shoots through my body, my pussy quakes with need. I can feel the effect he has on me by the way the insides of my thighs grow wet.

“Undo my pants,” his dark voice orders.

His eyes are deep and intense and they spear through me. I swallow nervously as I bring my hands to his belt, unlatching. My eyes drift back up to his as I slip the top button of his slacks loose and then carefully slide the zipper down. The look on his face is beautiful. It’s almost as if he’s in pain. I want to keep looking but his cock instantly springs out, demanding attention. There’s so much to be said about a man going commando, and all of it is good.

I bend down to run my tongue up the front of his cock when he pulls hard on my hair again. “Did I say you could have my cock, pet?”

The tone of his voice, the look on his face, and the way he keeps demanding I ask for permission all combine together and explode inside of me in a way that sends shockwaves through my body that all detonate in my pussy and causes a mini-orgasm. I shiver in response. “No, Roman,” I tell him, my voice in a tone I have never heard from myself before. It’s so full of need.

“You must learn who is in control. Lock your hands behind your back, grab your wrists, and no matter what, you keep them there. Understand?”

Just like that, my breath goes ragged. I put my hands behind my back and do as he instructed. He gets a ghost of a smile on his face. I want to keep watching it, but my eyes are pulled back to his cock as he holds it in his hand. Everything about Roman is larger than life, but when his hand wraps around the base of his cock, it does nothing but accentuate how truly large he is. He pulls me in close, close enough that his dick is right there but I have to reach to touch it. I do it automatically, but at the first sting of pain, I look up at him instinctively. He nods his head in agreement to a question I wasn’t even aware I was asking. I strain against his hold to run my tongue up the front of his shaft. It pulls my hair; he’s not giving me an inch of movement, but his groan encourages me to keep pushing. When I reach the head of his dick and the taste of his pre-cum gathers on the tip of my tongue, I moan. I fight harder against his restraint to take just the tip into my mouth. I close my lips against him, sucking hard while my tongue tries to find that small valley where more of his pre-cum is. I want more. I need it like I need my next breath. When he doesn’t let my mouth slide further, I pull away.

“Roman,” I whimper, sounding desperate. How did I get here this quickly? How can I need him so deeply? It’s as if he has become a missing element in my life that I need to breathe. Food. Sleep. Air. Roman.  He’s becoming that essential. I block out the warning bells that admission sets off.

“Patience, pet,” his voice grumbles.

I want to yell, but I don’t. He brings his cock to my mouth and pushes his shaft against it. His hand tightens in my hair, preventing me from taking him inside. Instead, he moves it along my lips, painting them with the evidence of his need. Just when I’m about to scream, he pushes his cock inside my mouth. I hum my approval around it. I have very little control, but he allows me to sink lower on his shaft. He’s so wide that it’s almost painful to close my lips around him. I let my tongue play with him and suck him until he’s halfway in my mouth. That’s as much as I can comfortably take. Then, I glide back up. I repeat over and over, hearing Roman whispering soft praises in the background. With each note of approval, I take him a little more until his dick is at the back of my throat.

I gag around him and Roman is quick to back out. He stops me when his tip is still at my lips. “You have to learn to take all of me, Ana. I’m not going to want to go without your mouth.”

Wrong or not, his words make another quake of excitement rumble through me. Determined to show him I can take whatever he gives me, when he pushes my head back down on his shaft, I do my best to position my tongue so that when I take him to the back of my throat, my gag reflex doesn’t get triggered. I hum around his cock when I feel him leaking down my throat. I breathe through my nose, my eyes going to his. The look in his eyes spurs me on and I swallow, letting the motion of my throat muscles convulse against his head. His fingers flex in my hair and he groans. It probably sounds silly, but that simple noise he gives me makes me feel like I am the most beautiful woman in the world.

Now he takes over, pulling my head back and pushing it down in a steady rhythm. He starts slow and I have time to use my tongue to tease him. My mission is to push him over the edge, to make him lose that tight leash he keeps on himself. His speed increases then, almost violently, and I can do nothing but take it as he rams his cock in and out of my mouth. He’s in control of everything. He’s in control of me. I try to watch the changes in him because I know he’s getting close, but it’s impossible. I’m consumed with the way he fills my mouth, the hard veins that are throbbing and pulsating, his taste filling me. He uses his cock as a weapon, fucking my face hard. My body is a bundle of nerves and the slightest touch would set me off and he’s not even touched me.

“I’m getting ready to come, Ana. I’m going to come and fill that pretty mouth and you’re going to suck it all down. Swallow every fucking drop. Do you hear me, pet?” he growls, holding my head still.

I’d talk if I could, but my mouth is full of dick—of Roman. In the end, all I can do his hum my agreement. That seems to be enough because he thrusts me down on his shaft again and again before erupting with a growl. His cum slides down my throat in waves and I open my eyes to watch as the climax moves through him. Beautiful.

I pull Ana up beside me. She stretches out on the seat, rubbing against me like a cat begging to be petted. Her head rests in my lap against my undone pants. Her hair is ruffled and finally completely out of order. It’s much hotter than I even imagined. I run my fingers through it while I catch my breath. I hit the intercom when I finally remember I have yet to tell Robert where to take us.

“Robert, takes back to Ana’s apartment.”

“Yes, sir,” he responds and I click it off.

“My apartment?”

“It’s closer and I need you in a bed, pet,” I tell her, not bothering to expand. The plain truth is that if I don’t get inside of her soon, my dick is going to drive me mad. I just came inside of that sweet mouth of hers and I’m still hard as a hammer. There’s only so much control a man can have—even me.

She pulls my shirt up and places a kiss against my stomach before sitting up. Regretfully, I fix my pants, adjusting my damn dick because we should be at her apartment in about fifteen minutes.

“We’ll have to hurry. I’ll need to get to work so I have time to run through my sets and pick out the costumes and things.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Roman,” she starts, and my hand goes to the side of her neck and I pull her face into mine, my grip not hard enough to hurt her, but firm enough so that she is reminded who’s in charge.

“My woman doesn’t strip for other men, Ana.”

“Your woman? Listen Roman, we just started seeing each other and you knew I was a stripper before this started!”

“We’re doing a hell of a lot more than just seeing each other. My cock was just in that throat of yours. My cum is in your stomach. If you think I’m going to let you dance for another man after the dance you gave me in that room, Ana, you’re fucking crazy.”

Her head snaps back, but I just increase my hold on her, not letting her pull away.

“That was different! I don’t dance for other men! I told you that! Of all the pigheaded, egotistical, juvenile—”

“Ana, that’s enough. I didn’t mean that you would. I’m just telling you that I’ve claimed this body and there’s not another man out there who’s going to get a look at what is mine. And, pet, let us be clear: you are mine.”

She goes still, but most of all she shuts up. “You don’t know me.”

“I know all I need to know and I plan on learning much more.”

“You might not like what you find.”

“And I may like it even more,” I tell her.

She’s cute. Is she worried that her past is something that will bother me? That I will hold it against her? It’s her that needs to learn who I am. I’ll teach her that, too. In time. It’s occurred to me that what I’m talking about is something more than just sex. I’m not going to spend time thinking about it. I want her and it’s not showing signs of lessening. Actually, something that has never happened to me in my lifetime is going on. The more I’m around Ana, the more I want her. I’m not growing bored. I’m showing no signs of boredom. Usually one time is enough to take off the new, wear the edge down. Maybe it’s because I haven’t actually been inside of her yet. Fuck if I know; I just know nothing is happening like I thought it would. I have a sneaking suspicion Ana is a game-changer.

“What am I supposed to do if I don’t work? Jesus, Roman, I have to work. I have bills and I like having a roof over my head. Besides that, I’m not one to sit around and do nothing. I’ve worked since I was sixteen.”

“You’ll live with me.”

“I can’t—Wait a minute. What did you say?”

“You don’t need to worry about a roof over your head. You’ll stay under my roof.”

“I can’t move in with you! We just met.”

“I’ve had my face buried between your legs and my dick in your mouth. I think that means more than how long we’ve actually known each other.”

“That’s what you’re basing asking a woman to move in with you on? Because we got each other off? Jesus, your house must be crowded. Where do you keep all of the women?”

“You’re entirely too mouthy for my peace of mind, pet. Believe it or not, there’s never been another woman in my house. For you, I’m making an exception. I have a feeling it won’t be the first.”

“Mouthy? I’d take exception to that, but I think you just shocked me into silence.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible.”

Ana does something else that shocks me. She sticks her tongue out at me. For the first time that I can remember in what has to be years, I throw my head back and laugh.

“You’re really beautiful when you laugh, Roman,” Ana whispers softly.

I bring my eyes back to her face at her words and take in the sweet way she’s looking at me. Men would go off to war and die, all for the chance to protect that face. I pull her to me and take her mouth. Five minutes. Five minutes until we get to her apartment and then I’m fucking her brains out.

My cell phone rings in my pocket and I pull away from Ana after dragging my tongue against hers one last time. I look at my phone. When I see Bruno’s number, I know I’m in trouble.

“Yeah?” I grunt, answering it.

“Boss, we got problems.”

“I’m getting fucking tired of hearing that.”

“The warehouse was just broken into.”

“What happened to the guards?” I growl, anger rolling through me.

“Two dead. Four unconscious.”

My hand tightens up on the phone. I’d like to throw the damn thing. “Who are the two who died?”

“Ivan and Reese.”

“Fuck,” I groan, holding my head down. “Have you told their families?”

“No, boss. I just called the rest of the cleanup crew out and called you.”

“Any idea who did it?”

“They were gone when we got here, but, boss…”

“Spit it out, Bruno, what did the cameras show?”

“One of the security cameras, the new one we put in across the street, showed Banks.”

“I’ll be there in five. I want the cleaning crew called out and I’ll go talk to Ivan’s wife. Reese didn’t have anyone but his mother. She’s still in that nursing home. I’ll go there tomorrow. Keep a lock on this shit. The last thing these ladies need to hear is about their men before I can talk to them.”

“You got it,” Bruno says and I hang up.

I turn to look at Ana and worry is etched all over her face.

“I take it our plans have changed,” she says as the car comes to a stop.

“I’m sorry, Ana. I can’t.”

“It’s okay, Roman. Go do what you have to do. I’ll be here when you get back,” she tells me as Robert opens the door.

I cup her face in my hand. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Her hand moves over my wrist that is resting on her collarbone. She squeezes it, encouragingly. “Someone died?” she questions, and I fight against my need to reassure her. I can’t trust anyone—especially a woman—with my business, no matter how the look in her eyes makes me want to trust her.

“Two of my men,” I answer, compromising. Even giving her that much makes me want to kick my ass.

Ana doesn’t push me, however. She leans up and kisses me lightly on the cheek, and then stretches up to whisper in my ear. “Be safe, Daddy.”

The whispered words make me want to smile. I would if I didn’t know what was waiting for me. I watch as she slides out of the car. It’s not until I’m ten minutes down the road that I realize I didn’t walk her to her door and make sure she was safe. I’ve never felt the urge to before, but I vow that will never happen again. Ana’s mine. I’m keeping her.

I lean against the door when I make it inside. My emotions are all over the place. Being near Roman makes me forget what I’m really here for. That’s dangerous. It’s also extremely stupid. Roman’s a job. I’m here to find evidence on him and save my brother. It’s that simple. The rest is just static. I can’t allow it to get to me. I can’t allow Roman to get to me. After giving myself a pep talk, I start walking up the stairs to my apartment when a hand reaches out and grabs me from behind. I scream before I can stop myself and years of training takes over. I step into my attacker, deliver an elbow back into his solar plexus. I hear a male grunt and I reach behind my head and wrap my arms around my attacker’s neck, flipping him over my shoulder. He lands with a thud, groaning and still holding his stomach.

“Told you not to sneak up on her, rookie,” I hear Paul say from my left.

The adrenaline is still surging through me, but that’s when I can recognize the guy on the floor as one of the main officers who work underneath Paul.

“What the hell are you two doing here? Are you trying to blow my cover?”

“Gee, Ana, it’s not like we planned on you bringing that slime back home with you. I told you, kid, you’re skating on thin ice here.”

“Back off, Paul. I’m doing what I have to do to make sure my brother survives this shit.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” the man on the floor wheezes as he gets up. I instantly want to knock him back down.

“What do you want? You do realize Roman could be having me watched?”

“You’re safe. We’ve cleared all the security.”

“Whatever. Tell me what you did. Before we got here, Roman got a call that something had happened. He mention deaths. Why did he mention deaths, Paul?”

“We raided the warehouse. There were more guards there than we anticipated. They surprised a few of our men. It had to be done.”

“No, it didn’t. Why are you doing that? I thought the reason I’m undercover is so we can know what property to check into and not do stupid shit and get people killed. People like my brother!”

“I thought that was the reason you were here too, Ana. But it seems to me the reason is all about you fucking the enemy now.”

“You need to step back, Paul. I’m doing what I have to do to take care of my brother and do my job. You may not like it, but you better damn well respect me and keep your judgments to yourself,” I growl, having enough of the shit he keeps dishing out. It may be frowned on, but if I was a male officer, it wouldn’t even be a question. He’d be patting me on the back. “I am doing my job, and if you would just let me work and give me time, then maybe we wouldn’t have to kill innocent people!”

“They’re not innocent, Ana. They’re felons. Scum of the earth that are supplying drugs to—”

“They are human beings and one of them had a wife and a mother. Last I checked, our job was to protect and serve, not kill and leave lying and shrug it off.”

“If you’re done being on your high horse, I don’t have much time here.”

My stomach churns with the look on Paul’s face. Why had I never noticed this side of him before? Something about his whole attitude makes me feel like my skin is crawling. Something is just… off.

“Say it,” I tell him, just wanting him to leave. He hands me a small packet of white powder. I look at it like it’s a snake, one that’s about to bite me and pump my body full of poison. “What the fuck is this?”

“Coke.”

I blanch, physically jarred from his answer, even if I knew what it was. “Why are you giving this to me?” I whisper, that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach only getting worse.

“You need to plant that on Anthes.”

“Plant? What are you talking about?”

“The fucking weasel keeps covering his tracks and he slips through every fucking trap we set. We get him on possession, he’ll get out, but it will give us all the ammo we need to get a judge to give the okay to take a fine-tooth comb to his businesses and anything else. It will give us time to sweep in and tear apart his business piece by piece.”

“Paul, that’s … what you’re asking me to do …”

“Before you go all moral, that’s just enough to cap him for possession. It’s enough to get our fucking foot in the door. It will save your brother. The quicker we get Anthes locked up, the quicker we can find your brother.”

“But…” I try and argue, but my tongue feeling too heavy for my mouth and refuses to form words. My heart is beating erratically and I am about two steps away from a panic attack.

“Your brother is running out of time, Ana. Do you really want to be the reason for his death?” he asks, then motions to the guy with him. They leave me standing there looking like I was just in a train wreck and holding an eight ball of coke and wondering how the fuck I got here.

I jerk awake in bed and reaching for the pistol I keep under my pillow. I grab the butt of the grip, wrapping my fingers around it, when a large hand clamps down making it so I can’t move.

“Jesus Christ, Ana. You keep a gun under your fucking pillow?”

I go deathly still in the dark of my bedroom. “Roman?”

“Who the fuck else would it be getting into your bed at three in the morning?” he asks, taking the gun away from me and placing it on my nightstand.

That’s a good question. “Roman? How are you in my bed? You don’t have a key. You gave me a heart attack!”

“I could tell by the way you were about to shoot me. Motherfucker, what the hell has happened to you in the past that you sleep with a gun under your pillow?”

That’s a question I’m not about to answer. “Will you tell me how you got in?” I ask instead, my eyes following his body and enjoying the view. Roman is probably the sexiest man I’ve ever met in my life. Roman without a shirt is deadly. He might be covered up too, but shivers run through me when I realize he’s probably completely naked and in my bed.

“Pet, you’ll find there’s not much I can’t do when I want it. And I think we’ve established that I want you. Now let’s get back to the question at hand. Why do you sleep with a gun under your pillow?” he asks, and I try to ignore the distraction of a naked Roman to concentrate on our conversation.

“I’m a single woman alone in the city,” I compromise. It sounds plausible? Right?

“If I get my hands on your brother, I may choke the life out of him for leaving you in the position where you think you need a gun to protect yourself.”

I listen to him and there’s a lot to think about in that one sentence. Most of all, it sounds like he hasn’t killed my brother. Maybe it’s not him that has Allen at all. Could the informant have been wrong? On the heels of that thought is the warm feeling I get inside at the fact that Roman is concerned about me. No one ever has been, except Paul … and now I wonder if he ever really was. If we had the relationship I thought we had, would he have put me in the situation I am in right now? The Paul I had created in my mind would have never done anything underhanded.

I push thoughts of Paul out of my head. I can’t deal with that right now. I have the coke locked in a firebox under my bed. Fuck if I know what I’m going to do. As I look at Roman now and see how tired and upset he looks, pain squeezes my heart.

“You had a bad night,” I tell him. It’s not a question; the truth of it is written all over his face.

“Yeah, pet. It was a bad night.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“There’s a reason I don’t do relationships, Ana. You get what I do, everything I am. It’s not a normal nine-to-five, nor is it what most people could accept. I have my own laws, my own code…”

“Roman, everyone has the same laws.”

“No, pet. They don’t. But it doesn’t concern you.”

“If we’re dating…”

“I told you, I don’t—”

“Whatever we’re doing, we seem to be heading in a direction where—”

“Where we’re going to fuck over and over?”

I smile, despite the gravity of the situation facing me. I feel like a fraud, even as a larger part of me wants to believe that I’m having this conversation because somehow I’ll get to keep Roman. I think I really want to keep him.

“Freak. I was going to say it looks like we may be spending more time together.”

“Oh yeah, definitely spending more time together.”

I shake my head at him. “Roman, I’m serious. If we keep seeing each other, your life and choices will affect me. Don’t you think I need to know more? To prepare myself, if nothing else?”

“We’re definitely going to keep seeing each other, Ana,” he says, cupping the side of my face. He seems to do that a lot, and I’m not going to lie. Every time he does, a small piece of the distance I try to keep between us chips away. “And nothing I do will ever touch you, pet. I’m starting to realize you aren’t used to having a real man in your life, but you’re mine,” he says and the words vibrate through in a way that causes every single female part inside of me to clench in pleasure. Can you orgasm without any kind of sex? “I’ve claimed you and I will protect you from everything, including myself. Nothing will touch you.”

Wow. If only he could, but he can’t. He has no idea who I am, and he thinks I don’t know anything about him. Our relationship, or whatever this is, has all been built on a house of cards and I’m the dealer. What will Roman do when he finds out he’s being played?

I bring my hand up to cover his and pull it to my lips to kiss his palm. “It’s too late to be having this type of conversation and you look worn out. Let’s get some rest and worry about tomorrow, tomorrow,” I urge him. I really can’t handle any more heart-to-heart tonight.

“Ana, I’ve been wanting you under me all night. If you think I’m going to be satisfied with just sleep, you’re dreaming.”

“Noted. But first, we need to make you less tense.”

“Sex does that.”

“So does a backrub.”

“A backrub?”

“You sound doubtful, but these hands,” I tell him, holding my hands up and cracking my knuckles. “These hands are miracle workers.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Completely. Now lay down on your stomach,” I order him, getting up from the bed to grab a bottle of lotion. I make note to go shopping tomorrow to get some massage oil, preferably heated. It wasn’t something I foresaw me needing before now. I go to the dresser, finding the lotion. I stop before I make it back to the bed. Roman is lying on his stomach, his head turned to watch me. He has the strangest look on his face. “What?” I ask, wondering if I’ve given myself away. Could I have pushed too much? Does he suspect something?

“Pet, are those … unicorns with rainbows coming out of their ass … on your pajamas?”

“Um … maybe?”

He keeps staring at me, and I’m blushing like crazy. I don’t need to see my face to know I am.

“Have I mentioned how you might be the first woman to surprise me? And you seem to do it constantly.”  He means that as compliment, I know he does, but the guilt that swamps me makes it impossible to respond. Instead, I clear my throat and try to offer a weak smile. I place some lotion on my hands and rub them together to warm up the cold cream, then I start working it into his lower back. Carefully, I make my way up his back, applying pressure on the tense muscles beneath. “That feels so good, pet. You might be magic.”

“Told you,” I whisper, my heart feeling heavy as I’m swamped with so many different emotions that I’m having trouble functioning. We continue like that for a few more minutes until I finally gather up the courage to ask Roman a question that I really need the answer to. “Roman? What happened to the men you were talking about earlier? How did they die?”

Silence answers me. Did I push him to open up too soon?

“Roman?” I ask again, and there’s a soft snore following my words. I look down and Roman is definitely sleeping. Guess my hands worked too well.

Disappointment swamps me. I didn’t have a lot of expectations, but I was hoping to learn more about Roman because I need to trust and believe in him. The truth is, no matter how much I try to explain it away, Roman matters.

He matters a lot.

Apparently life with Ana is going to be a constant surprise. Never have I passed out on a woman. Yet with Ana, I did easily. I reach over for her, determined to have her finally. My hand finds nothing but her pillow and it’s cold. I sit up, stretching, and let my eyes get adjusted to the darkness in the room. There’s minimal light coming through the window. The clock tells me it’s a little after six in the morning. The apartment is quiet; no obvious sounds telling me where she’s at.

“Ana, where the hell are you?” I growl, grabbing my pants and putting them on before looking through the apartment for her. Each room comes up empty until it’s apparent she’s nowhere to be found. I’m about to tear from her place to search for her when I look through the glass doors that lead out to her balcony. Ana is sitting in a lounge chair wrapped up in a blanket and looking out over the sunrise. “I’m going to start tying you to the bed so I stop waking up alone. What are you doing out here?”

She looks up at me in surprise. I notice the tears in her eyes and they bother me. Am I the reason for them? Most likely. I’m really going to have to do something about this brother of hers if I keep her. If. I’m not letting her go. There’s no point in hiding from that fact. I want her more than I did the first time and I’ve yet to get inside her. I can only imagine that once I get a taste of that, I’m doomed. Brought down by a pussy.

“Thinking.”

I pick her up and slide underneath her on the lounge chair. The blanket drops to the floor, but I let it go. I figure I can keep her warm enough. I hold her head close to my chest and let my fingers brush through her hair. “You okay, pet?” I ask, knowing better.

“I’m a mess, Roman.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not even a little bit.”

We sit there in the silence a few more minutes while the sun breaks free from the clouds and its light blooms in the sky. She turns from her side, laying with her stomach pressed to mine, her face mere inches from me. I run my thumb over her chin, sweeping it up towards her cheek.

“You’re beautiful, Ana.”

“You weren’t what I expected,” she whispers in return. I’m not quite positive how to take that, so in the end I say nothing. Her fingers reach for the zipper of my slacks. I had left the top button undone, and in just a second she has them all undone. My cock, which had been semi-sleeping since finding Ana gone, begins to stretch and push towards her. I grab her hand to stop her.

“Ana.”

“Please, Roman. Later, you can remind me you’re in control. For now, just right now, can I take what I want? What I need?”

There’s something in her eyes as she asks that question. Something that I vow to question further. When she pulls my shirt off and throws it on the ground, I stop thinking about it. As the sun’s glow serves as a backdrop, highlighting her perfect body, I almost forget to breathe. When she pulls on my pants, I lift up and she works them past my hips. As she adjusts her legs to ride me and starts sliding back and forth on my cock, using the hard ridge of it to push against her pussy, I stop thinking altogether. I can feel the slick, wet heat of her desire paint my cock as she slowly drags herself back and forth.

“Fuck, pet. You’re soaked.”

“I need you,” she gasps, moving her body back and using her hand to grasp the base of my cock.

“Then take me. For now, take what you want,” I tell her, repeating her words and giving her the permission she needs.

Guilt can suffocate you. Roman has been so sweet, so loving, and he’s nothing like the man I expected to encounter. He’s good. He’s a good man. I know he’s involved in things that are bad, but the Roman I’m beginning to know is … good. What do I do with that? It’s like I’ve fallen out of reality here. The rules have all changed and the bad guy isn’t really the bad guy and the good guy clearly isn’t good. And me … I’m stuck in the middle.

I need to save my brother. I have a job to do. But I never thought my job would mean I had to hurt innocent people. My brain wants to argue that Roman is far from innocent, but he would be innocent of what Paul asked me to set him up for. Paul—my mentor, the man I looked up to among all others, and he’s asked me to go against everything I believe, every oath I ever made and everything I thought I was in the force to prevent. Paul’s right. Roman’s not innocent. But if we do this—if I do this—aren’t we worse?

My head is a mess, and when Roman came out to find me and was so sweet, I was so close to jumping off the ledge, telling him everything that’s going on and asking him to not only save my brother, but to save me. I can’t take the final step to do that. What if I’m just losing sight of reality, lost in all that’s Roman? If that’s the case, I’m probably doing the last thing I should. Losing myself even more.

I brace my hands on his shoulders, riding back and forth on his cock, coating him in … me. His hard shaft slides between the lips of my pussy so easily, and it pushes up against my clit in all the right ways. I could come just like this, but I allow myself one truth in whatever this is I’m doing with Roman. I need him inside of me. I move back at his permission and wrap my hand around the base of his cock. My knees dig into the cushion of the chair as I rise above him. My eyes find his as I position him at my opening. His cock is so hot, so large. I know doing this might be wrong. Maybe that’s what makes it even better. Maybe nothing matters except this moment. I lower myself slowly onto his shaft. I stop when just his head is inside of me. Just that much, and I already feel how he’s going to stretch me beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. He may ruin me for other men. He might have, already …

“Fuck, Ana,” Roman groans, his hips thrusting up towards me as he sinks another inch inside. I gasp at the sensation as he sinks into me a little more. My fingers dig into his shoulders and the pleasure mixes with the sting of pain it takes to stretch around him and take him all the way inside. Once he’s seated deep, I hold still and just get used to the feeling of being stretched and full of nothing but Roman. His hand slides under my hair and he holds the side of my face again, his thumb brushing against my skin as he does so often. “You okay, pet?”

Okay? No, I answer in my mind. Right now, I want my first time with Roman to be about nothing but him and me, so I push everything else away. I squeeze my inner muscles around his cock instead, bringing the focus back to the here and now, to the only thing that Roman and I can share.

“I feel so much better than okay,” I moan as I lift back off his cock, slowly dragging him out of me, but keeping the tip, and then pushing back down. Roman’s hands bite into my ass cheeks. They’re not gentle, but even that feels good. No. It feels better than good. He’s letting me be in charge, but not letting me forget that he is the one really in control. This time when I rise and lower myself back down, I do it at an angle and moan as his hard cock scrapes against my walls. Over and over I ride him, losing sight of everything but Roman’s face, and the pleasure, and the look in his eyes. Everything else fades away. Faster and faster I get, lifting off and then taking him back in, pummeling my pussy with his dick—using him. I can feel my orgasm and it’s right there. I can feel it. I can almost taste it, but can’t quite reach it.

That’s when Roman takes over. “You’re so fucking beautiful, pet,” his hoarse voice tells me, and even that feels like a caress. He uses his hold on my hips to take over the speed and angle of my ride. I turn over control willingly. My hands move to my breasts, clutching underneath them and holding onto them tightly. He slams me back down on his cock hard, so hard it physically jars my body and heat swamps me. I squeeze him inside of me as tight as I can. My head goes back from the pleasure.

“Roman,” I cry out, feeling his dick so far in me that it’s pressing against my cervix. It’s painful but it also releases these shockwaves and ripples of pleasure inside of me that I’ve never known. I bend my body backwards, trying to stretch it to hold onto every sensation. Roman must know what I’m doing, or maybe he feels it too, because his bruising hold on me keeps me pushed down on him and then he grinds me against him. “Oh fuck!” I scream when he does it again.

“So beautiful, Ana,” he repeats. “Come for me. Come for me, pet,” Roman’s voice growls, but I’ve lost sight of him. I’m riding wave after wave of pleasure and my orgasm shoots through me. Roman pulls me back off his dick and then slams me back down. I straighten and concentrate on the pleasure and the ride, my eyes closed. Shock courses through me as his lips latch onto one of my breasts and he bites into the nipple. My fingers dig into his hair as his mouth works its magic. His fingers slide into my ass and press against the opening. He holds me still this time, but thrusts his hips up into me. I grind down and meet his thrust, turning just enough so he’s once again scraping my inner walls. That triggers a second orgasm which is so much more massive than the first. It sends wave after wave of pleasure through my body. I let out a long keening cry like I’ve never uttered before. I’m almost unsure it’s me. When I feel the heat of his cum flood inside of me, it does nothing but add to the pleasure. My eyes fasten onto him. His dark eyes grow intense, glowing and full of pleasure as he gives in to his climax. His hand wraps in my hair and he pulls my head down to him.

“Mine,” he growls. “You’re mine, Ana.”

His words feel like a brand, as hot and as heated as the cum he’s shooting inside of me. The tears come without warning. They fall unchecked as he takes my mouth.

I could love him …

“Damn it, Bruno, you better start getting it together or I’ll find someone else who can.”

“Got it, boss,” he says before shaking his head and leaving the room. I’m taking out my frustration on him. It’s not right, but that’s definitely what I’m doing. I’m so fucking keyed up over Ana, I don’t know which end is up. I’ve thought of little else since I left her this morning. That’s how fucking twisted in knots she has me. It’s ridiculous. It’s also why I’m looking at her lowlife piece of shit brother instead of working like I need to be doing.

“Why are you still letting me breathe?” he whispers, his voice hoarse. Not from beating. No. My guys haven’t touched him since I met Ana. No, the detox from the shit in his veins is what is killing him now. Quitting cold turkey when he’s this addicted is probably not wise, but I have the doctor on my payroll checking him out and Bruno or one of the boys watches him twenty-four-seven. I figure that’s more than he deserves and definitely more than I owe the fucker.

I have him chained to a cable like a damn dog. On his wrist is a tight cuff that’s attached to a steel chain. The chain connects to a link that’s on a steel cable. It allows him leeway to walk to a bed and then to a bathroom that contains nothing but a toilet and small shower. He has no shirt on, but his jeans are starting to look extremely dirty. In truth, he looks like hell, but he’s still breathing. You would think that’d make the douche thankful. I guess not.

“Ana,” I tell him and watch as shock slams through him. That describes it perfectly. It hits him with the force of a fist to the gut.

“How do you know about Ana?”

“You’ve been too high to notice before, Stevens, but I know everything. What I can’t figure out is how someone as beautiful and giving as Ana shares the same fucking blood as a parasite like you.”

“Oh yes. Saint Ana. Let’s all take a minute to bow at her feet. If we’re lucky, she might spare a minute to turn her nose up at us.”

His words turn me cold as I hear them. I don’t think about it. I grab the fucker by the neck, slamming him up against the wall.

“Do not say one thing against Ana. You’re only alive right now because for some unknown reason to me, she cares about you. Be grateful, motherfucker.”

“How did straight-laced, holier-than-thou Ana get hooked up with you?”

I apply pressure to his neck, squeezing until he can no longer take air. He brings his hands up to try and claw at me, his face turning blue. “She’s been putting herself at risk to try and save your fucking ass. Something I have a feeling she’s done her entire life. So do yourself a favor and do not mention Ana to me unless you can be a grateful fuck. Because I warn you, Stevens, one more bad word about my woman and I’ll cut your tongue out and feed it to you. Are we clear?” He doesn’t answer, but then he can’t. I ease my hold just enough to allow him a breath. “Are we clear?” I ask again. His fear of death must be larger than I gave him credit for, because his red, splotchy face nods in agreement quickly. A pity. I think I would have enjoyed cutting out his tongue. I give him one last shove. He doesn’t go anywhere because he is still against the wall, but it makes me feel better. Then, I step back.

“Why are you here?” Allen asks when he can talk again. His neck is red from where I held him and I feel a certain amount of satisfaction from seeing it.

“Since I’m letting you live, I thought it would be a good time that you and I come to an understanding, especially about your sister.”

“And if I refuse? You’ll kill me? You might as well do it now.”

“No.” I sit in a chair just beyond the reach of Allen’s chains. “If you insist on being a fucking idiot, I’ll do worse.”

“Worse than dead?” He laughs. Jesus Christ, he is naïve. No wonder Ana has worried herself sick over him. She’s done him no favors trying to protect him and take care of him, though. He’s weak in more ways than just his penchant for sampling his own merchandise. “Good luck with that.”

“Much worse,” I assure him, staying on course. Today’s visit is all about putting real fear into him. “I’ll turn you over to Kuzma,” I tell him, naming the head of the Russian mob. “I’ll be sure to tell them you’re the fucker who’s been messing with their business in town.”

He pales, and I know my barb hits home. Even he’s not that stupid.

“He’ll just kill me too. Either way, I’m dead.”

Apparently he is that stupid. Again, I’m amazed that he and Ana share the same blood in their veins.

“He’ll make you pray for death and eventually he will kill you. It’s what he does from the time he has you until he grants your prayer that you need to worry about.”

“What do you want from me?” Allen asks after a few minutes of silence.

“Just your cooperation. Well, that and some information.”

“About what?” he asks, hate shining in his eyes.

“Ana.”

He gets this weird look on his face, but he nods his head in agreement. Finally.

It’s been a fucking day. I wish I had just stayed in bed with Ana. I left her brother and it’s official. I can’t stand the motherfucker. That’s the only conclusion I’ve come to. His constant disrespect of Ana tests my limits continually. I get the feeling he’s holding something back from me, something he’s enjoying keeping a secret. I have no idea what it is. I wanted insight into Ana. I thought I’d be able to get more personal information from her brother than what my men would have found. I just can’t figure out exactly what cards Allen is holding—or thinks he is. Something about that man sets every alarm bell I have off. I’m going to have Bruno dig deeper into Ana’s background. If she’s hiding something, I need to know what it is.

The day got worse after dealing with him and I wouldn’t have thought that was possible. I traveled to the Ocean View Nursing Facility to visit Reese’s mom. I lost two good men thanks to that fucking stunt pulled by Paul Banks. That fucker is a thorn in my side and I’ve been putting off dealing with him. He’s a cop, but as crooked as the day is long. I should know; he used to be on my payroll. The thing is, most of the men I have on my payroll I can trust. There’s honor involved, honor among thieves if you must. Paul Banks has no fucking honor. He didn’t feel he was getting a big enough cut and the motherfucker mishandled a deal I was involved in, so I cut him loose. Problem is, Paul didn’t take to being fired and left out of the payoff. I could give two shits about it, except now he’s morphed into super-cop, determined to bring me down. I would have already killed the motherfucker, but I was trying not to draw attention to myself while brokering a deal with Kuzma, but my patience is near an end. Telling a wife her husband wouldn’t be coming home yesterday was bad. Today, telling Reese’s mom that her son is dead was worse. He’s all she had. I’m taking over all of her bills and she’ll never have to worry about anything for the rest of her life, but that means shit when it comes to never seeing her son again.

I’m walking down the hall to go outside when I hear a woman screaming. At first I tune it out. Hell, if I was in this place and unable to get out, I’d probably be screaming too. I walk by the door of the room in question. Hearing some woman call another person every vile name they can think of, and all I can think is, I need out of this place.

That’s when I hear her. Ana.

“Mom, I told you I can’t get you out of here. I have to work fulltime. There’s no way I can take care of you.”

“Bullshit. It’s your fault I’m in here! Get me the fuck out of here! I’ll go live with your brother, Allen.”

“That’d be great mom, except no one can find the asshole,” Ana says with a huff.

“I don’t give a fuck what you have to do, Ana Louise Stevens, you get me the fuck out of here. You owe me that much.”

“Mom, I can’t,” Ana argues. The distress in her voice is so thick, I find myself walking into the room before I can even think about it. Ana has her back to me. She’s talking to an older woman across from her who sits at one of those table-on-wheels. “You’re fine here,” Ana continues, walking around the table to her. She begins putting an afghan around the woman’s obviously useless legs. “They take good care of you. With my job, there’s no way I can…”

I see it happening, but there’s just no way I can stop it. The woman screams loudly and slaps Ana hard across the side of the face. The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoes in the room followed by Ana’s pain-filled gasp. I don’t think. I take the few steps that are necessary to get in front of Ana and look at the shrew in question. Her hand is half raised to strike Ana again. I grab it by the wrist.

“Lady, if you lay so much as one more finger on Ana, it will be the last thing you do,” I warn her coldly.

“Who the fuck are you?” the bitch barks at me, trying to yank her hand away. Not happening.

“Roman!” Ana gasps. I lift my eyes to her and the angry telltale hand mark has already bloomed on her face.

“Ana, go to my car.”

“Roman, that’s my mother, I can deal with her.”

“I said go to the fucking car, Ana.”

“Jesus, is this the man you’re fucking?” the woman growls.

“Mom,” Ana starts.

“Now, pet.”

“Yes, now, Ana,” her mother mimics, and I’m starting to see where Ana’s brother gets his charm. Thank fuck my woman seems to have skipped that particular family trait. “Has he taught you to fetch too?”

That’s it. No more. “Ana, Robert is waiting by the limo. Go and get in it now,” I growl and the command in my voice is one I’ve not really used with Ana before, and perhaps that’s been wrong. She looks at me, her eyes round. The anger and coldness in my voice isn’t directed at her, but there’s no way for her to know that. Truthfully, I am upset with her and she will know that later, but I want to shut her bitch of a mother down first, then I’ll deal with Ana.

“Limo? Well, la-de-dah. No wonder she’s fucking you. All that money and you are leaving me in this hellhole? You fucking cunt,” her mother hisses the vile words. Ana’s body physically jerks from the verbal blow. Then I see this steel mask lock into place. She doesn’t even look like the woman I know.

“Maybe if you had stopped shooting up and snorting, you wouldn’t have to be in here and I wouldn’t be working my ass off to make sure there are people to wipe your ass because you left your body too broken to do it yourself,” Ana says, her voice monotone and as cold as I’ve ever managed to make mine.

Her fucking mother starts to respond, and that’s when I tighten my hand on her wrist enough that I know the woman feels the pain. I could break it with just the slightest movement either way. It wouldn’t take much because the woman is a bag of bones. I’ve never in my life threatened violence against a woman before, but in this case, I think I could gladly make an exception. Jesus Christ, what kind of fucking hell has my woman lived through?

“Ana,” I warn her, not wanting her to hear what I’m about to tell her mom, but also needing her to mind me for motherfucking once. Her hand goes to my shoulder, her touch trying to soothe me. It does not. Then, she leans up to kiss my cheek.

“I’ll be by the limo,” she whispers near my ear.

“Not by the limo, Ana. Inside it.”

She stops when she gets to the door. “Yes, Roman,” she says before leaving. Now if I could just teach her to say those words all the time, my life would be fucking simple again. I give Ana a few minutes to get gone. Her mother is strangely quiet. I let go of her hand and step away from her, the bitch stinking up my air.

“You don’t look like a man that has to pay for pussy. Especially worthless pussy like my daughter’s.”

“If you want to remain breathing, you’ll shut your fucking mouth. Do you know who I am?” I ask her. Most people in Miami do, but then most people aren’t locked up in a long-term nursing facility.

“Why the fuck would I?” she hisses. She reaches for her cigarettes on the table. It’s then that I notice one of her hands doesn’t work. Actually, it seems like most of that entire side doesn’t work. I don’t know what happened to her, but from what Ana said before she left, I imagine drugs. I hate fucking junkies. It’s why I don’t deal with the shit. I leave that to Kuzma. The drugs are the only reservation I have about getting into business with him. Being in business with them however, means less headaches for me and added firepower. It makes damn good money sense. It keeps me being the only stop along the coastline for gambling and women. Not to mention, it gives me more firepower to protect what’s mine and to protect the women in my stable. There’s always some motherfucker out there thinking he can take what’s mine, always trying to steal my business. That’s not about to fucking happen, but I’m having to defend that shit so often, having Kuzma’s firepower, not to mention police protection would solve a million problems.

The first item on my list is fucking ending Paul Banks. I’ll be doing it either way, but being certain there would be no legal backlash would be great. I don’t need all of the law enforcement agencies in Miami and Federal people looking at me with a fucking target on my head.

I grab the bitch’s cigarettes from her fumbling hands. Taking one out and handing it to her, I keep the pack in my hand, taking the lighter too. Maybe she’s starting to wise up, or maybe she just really wants that cigarette, but I sense the change in her. I have her complete attention now.

“I own Miami. When I say I own it, I mean this shithole you’re living in too. It will look like fucking heaven compared to what I can do to you. You’re a miserable fuck, I get that. You are probably like your fucking son and would rather die than keep drawing breath. What you need to realize is, there’s much worse things than dying, and I can make sure you find that out firsthand.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” she asks, but I hear the nervousness in her voice; I see her eyes and how they are dilated.

“You like drugs. I have friends use this stuff on their enemies that, with one injection, turns you into a vegetable. When I say that, I mean you will be fully alert, fully awake, but hooked to a machine that feeds you, have diapers on your ass, and not be able to bitch about how miserable you are. Unable to move. It’s bad shit. I’ve never been tempted to deal with it. That is, until I saw a miserable bitch raise a hand to my woman.”

“Ana is—”

“My property. Mine. No one touches what’s mine, least of all you. Your hand, your words, your breath no long touch my woman. If I hear it does, I promise you, you’ll find out firsthand what living in real hell feels like.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“You think? Ask around. I guarantee people here know who Roman Anthes is, even if you’re too stupid to. You don’t want me as an enemy, woman, but that’s too late for you. Much too late. If Ana comes back, you best be a fucking saint ready to kiss her fucking feet. And believe me lady, I’ll have eyes on you from here on out.”

The bitch wisely doesn’t say another word. I smash her cigarettes up in my hand. The smell of tobacco fills the air around me. I make sure there’s not one motherfucker in the pack that can still be used before letting them fall to her lap, then I walk to the door.

“Don’t try me on this bitch,” I warn her on my way out. “I’ve never had much taste for harming a woman, but after what I’ve just seen, I’d make an exception for you, and I’d fucking enjoy every minute of it.” With that, I toss the lighter across the room, having it land on the floor a few feet from her. Then I leave. Time to deal with Ana next. Thank fuck that will be more enjoyable than the other shit I’ve dealt with today.

I’m walking slowly from the building, keeping my tears at bay and trying to keep from running from the nursing home. I fucking hate dealing with my mother. I hate it. It brings back too many ugly memories, too many things I’ve spent my life trying to hide from. The last thing in the world that I wanted was for Roman to witness my shame.

And my mother is my shame. She always has been. I hate her. I despise her and yet I can never seem to turn my back on her. I force myself to visit her once a month. If I went more than that, I’d probably be one of those people about to jump off a ledge they used to send my unit out on sometimes. Dealing with her makes me feel that desperate. It makes me feel that stupid. How can I still feel any type of responsibility or loyalty towards someone who doesn’t deserve it? Someone who was high my entire childhood, passed out, or in emergency rooms from overdosing? Someone who let drug addicts and johns into the same house she kept a twelve-year-old girl and a nine-year-old boy while she worked out her next high?

Roman wasn’t wrong. There’s a reason I sleep with a gun under my pillow. A big reason, and it has nothing to do with being a cop. It has more to do with a frightened little girl and boy hiding in a closet scared the latest monster would be worse than the one before. It has more to do with the last time a fucking asshole thought it was okay to try and rape a sixteen-year-old girl. One man stopped him: Paul Banks. He took me out of the hellhole, set my brother and me in county care, and took an interest in seeing me succeed. I tried to get Allen to follow me, but I think the memories haunted him more. I’m not sure. He turned to the same shit that helped make our life miserable to begin with. There are days I can’t forgive him for that. I’m so lost in my thoughts, I jump when Robert touches my shoulder.

“Go ahead and get inside, Ms. Stevens,” he says, surprising me.

“Ana,” I tell him, and my voice is thick with unshed tears.

“Ana,” he says gently. Maybe he can sense how close I am to breaking.

I get into the limo and look out the far window, lost in memories I’ve spent a lifetime trying to forget. I’m so deep in them I almost didn’t notice Roman opening the door and sliding in beside me, pushing me further on the seat. It takes him all of two minutes to grab me and haul me back on his lap. His arms go around me and his heat slowly melts into my body as I relax against him, burying my head in his chest.

“I know I told you to do nothing today and rest. To wait for me to get some business done so I could help you move to the house.”

“I needed to visit the sea creature.”

“The sea creature?”

“Vanessa. The womb donor from hell. Everyone always call her Nessie. She was more terrifying than the loch ness monster growing up. So Allen and I took to calling her the sea creature.”

“Let me guess. You and your brother were into Sci-Fi when you were younger?”

“We had a neighbor, Mrs. Lancaster. She loved old movies. We’d sneak over there when mom was out and watch television and Mrs. Lancaster would feed us. It was fun. I still watch the movies today with a smile.”

“What happened to Mrs. Lancaster?”

“She passed away last year.”

“A pity.”

“Yeah. She has a great-granddaughter. She’s working herself through school by waitressing. Mrs. Lancaster’s daughter died of cancer. Life is cold sometimes, Roman,” I whisper, keeping my head buried in his chest.

“That it is, pet. Let’s get back to your apartment, pack up, and get you moved in to my place.”

“You still want me around, even knowing what kind of branches exist in my family tree?” I ask him, only half-joking. My mother is my dirty little secret, one I’ve kept hidden from everyone but Paul. The only reason he knows is because of our past. I would have gladly made sure no one ever found out, especially Roman.

“Maybe because of it,” he says, and I go completely tense. No. That’s not happening.

“I don’t want pity, Roman. I’m not some kid in need of rescue now. Maybe I once was, but I rescue myself now. I don’t have to depend on anyone. I fought hard to get that, and I don’t want you trying to swoop in and make it better for the poor charity case. That’s not—”

I trail off when he grabs the side of my neck and pulls my face up until I’m looking at him.

“I’m trying to go about this gentle, pet, because you’re upset.”

“I’m not…”

“Don’t lie to me. If the way your body is shaking doesn’t give you away, the tears in your eyes do. So this is me, a man not used to putting others first, trying to be gentle with you. But I know you can feel the way my cock is hard against your ass and I think you get I want to be touching you and holding you all of the time. If not, let me spell it out for you. There’s not a fucking thing about you I view with pity. I see a strong woman, a beautiful woman. I see a woman I want to fuck and dominate and lose myself in over and over. I see a woman I’ve claimed and one I won’t give up. I see a woman who fucking fascinates me to the point that I canceled the rest of my day so I can spend most of the afternoon being gentle with her in hopes of getting between her legs without feeling guilt tonight, when I’m not so gentle.”

“There’s a lot there to take in,” I tell him, my brain replaying his words. All of them and everything they say storms through me and they make me feel alive. Roman doesn’t give flowery words and seduction. His words are raw. I could be lying to myself, but I think they are full of truth. I decide to give him truth in return. “What if I don’t want gentle?”

“Ana.”

“What if need the exact opposite of gentle from you, Roman?” His eyes literally bore into me for a minute, maybe two. Then he reaches over and pushes the button on the door.

“Yeah, boss?” Robert’s voice comes over the intercom.

“Change of plans. Take us to my apartment, Robert,” Roman tells him, then immediately turns the intercom off. The heated way he looks at me makes everything inside of me grow hot. “I hope you know what you’re asking for, pet,” he warns me.

So do I.

The rest of the ride is tense silence. Tense because I really want to fuck her now and not wait. The only thing that stops me is, I want her in a bed. Correction: I want her tied to the bed and at my mercy.

Somehow, I make it out of the limo and elevator without attacking her. The way she keeps looking at me, the obvious desire on her face, and the ragged breathing that makes her breasts literally dance with each breath, all combine to make that a near miss. So much so that when I turn to close the apartment door, locking us inside, I remain facing the door to calm my breathing. At this rate, it will be over way too soon and I don’t want that. Ana is a flower I need to unwrap one sweet, delicate petal at a time.

“Roman?” Ana questions.

“Bedroom. Now, Ana. Lose the clothes and lie on your stomach and wait for me,” I tell her without looking at her, going to the bar to grab a drink. I need to calm down, to take the edge off before I go to her. I expected her to argue, but she doesn’t. Instead, she silently walks down the hall to the master suite. I watch her go, my eyes transfixed on the way her jeans hug her ass. I finish my drink and pour another one, all while barely taking my eyes off of the last place I saw Ana before she disappeared. All while imagining her on my bed naked and waiting for me, that tight ass of hers sticking up in the air. I down my second drink, not even taking the time to enjoy it. I’ve held back as long as I can. When I clear the doorway to the bedroom, I almost come in my fucking jeans.

I thought I was prepared, but I realize there’s no way you could be prepared for this. Ana is resting on the dark purple sheets on my bed. Her milky white body, a perfect contrast. Her blonde hair is scattered across her neck and shoulders, her head turned to the side, and those violet eyes are watching me. How did I get to be the lucky son of a bitch to have her in my bed? How in the fuck did I survive before she came along? More importantly, how the fuck did I get so wrapped up in her in such a short time? All are good questions, and all of the answers to those questions don’t matter one fuck. The point is, she’s here now, and she’s mine.

I take off my cufflinks, leaving them on the small table by the door, my eyes glued to Ana’s. She swallows nervously as I loosen the tie from around my neck.

“You get that you are mine now, pet? How it displeases me if you put yourself in a situation where you could be hurt?” I ask her, walking towards the bed and wrapping the tie around both my hands, stretching it.

“I’m sorry, Roman,” she whispers. I expected arguing, something.

“On your knees, Ana, and face me,” I order. Her eyes go wide, but she does as I order. “Give me your hands.”

My eyes could get entranced by the way her breasts sway with her movements and the puckering of her nipples as she reaches out her hands to me. Everything about Ana screams feminine and it calls to the man inside of me whose job it is to claim and protect it. I pull her hands together so the wrists touch and caress one another. I wrap my tie around the delicate area, admiring how small and perfectly contoured she is. There’s not a part of her body that I don’t love—not a part that I don’t want to stamp my ownership on.

“Roman?” she asks, not quite knowing what she’s asking, but I understand. I read the excitement coursing through her body almost as clearly as the fear that broadcasts in her eyes. Fear. Another emotion that calls to the man inside of me. The beast that is at my core. The need to conquer and possess.

“Turn and face the headboard, pet,” I instruct.

The delicate muscles of her throat work as she swallows and turns to do as I said. Just another thing to be fascinated over. I love everything about how her throat works when it drinking down every drop of my cum. Each time seems different, special. Will it always be that way? That’s definitely something I will devote myself to learning. I take the ends of my tie and secure them to the latch I keep attached by a clasp under the mattress. It will give her limited movement, which is exactly what I want. I then start slowly unbuttoning my shirt. Our eyes are locked and the look on her face makes me feel like a King. Greedy. She’s greedy for whatever comes next. For what I give her, next.

“You were a bad girl, Ana. You are not to leave unless I, Robert, or one of the security men who work for me knows where you’re going or is with you. The fact that you snuck away from me and could have been hurt displeases me,” I tell her, tossing my shirt on a chair as if I didn’t have a care in the world, as if I wasn’t about to explode.

“I never agreed to all of that, Roman. Besides I only went to visit my mother,” she whispers, her head going down into the pillow as her breathing increases to the point I can see it shudder through her body. My hand goes under her chin and I pull her face back to look at me because I need her to see what I’m saying. I need her to know how serious I am.

“She is not a mother. You will not mention her name in our bed again. Do you understand?”

It might be unreasonable, but the woman I met today was no mother. There was nothing maternal in her body. She was a monster, and I know without even investigating further that she left scars on Ana. Scars that you might not see on the outside, but are there nonetheless.

“Roman…”

“Answer me, Ana.”

“You said… ‘our bed’…”

Her words make me stall for a split-second until I see the emotion in her face. Does she not realize the rules that I’ve broken for her? Does she not get that I’m completely obsessed with her? What could she have possibly thought I meant when I said I claimed her?

I reach out and slide my hand down her head, my fingers playing with the whisper-soft blonde tendrils. The pads of my fingers trail down the skin on the back of her neck. I smile as a shiver rakes through her as slow as a lover’s caress. My hand continues along her back, leisurely traveling the plains of her body and committing it to memory. I stop when I reach her lower back. Her ass curves out, forming a perfect half-globe shape that tantalizes me. My hands move down to massage each cheek, my fingers biting into them and pulling them apart to see that small dark opening they hide.

“Do you know who owns this body, Ana?” I ask her, my tone light as if I’m talking about the weather and betraying nothing of the need inside of me. Along with my question, I continue applying pressure into one of her cheeks while I take my other hand and move lower between her legs. I take my index and middle finger and dive between the lips of her pussy, pushing and seeking until I find that swollen clit. She’s soaked with need, and if I didn’t have other plans, I would slide under her and let her ride my face until she smothered me in sweet cream. Instead, I drag them back through her pussy and up to that small forbidden hole in her ass. I push them inside without warning. She squeezes down on them, trying to reject their entry, crying out. I hold her ass still with my hand and push until my fingers break free of the muscles guarding the tight opening.

“Roman!” she cries out, and my dick jumps. I feel a bead of pre-cum slide down my shaft. My balls are so full and ready to explode, they feel like lead weights.

“Who owns your body, Ana?”

“You do, Roman. God help us both, you do.”

For some reason, her dramatic answer makes me smile. I slide my fingers in and out of her ass, pulling them apart to stretch her with each new entry. Ana is grinding her chest down on the bed, dragging her breasts against the silk fabric of the sheets. I take my fingers out and she whimpers when they don’t go back in. I have other plans, though. I move to the side of the bed, roughly pulling her up to her knees. I hold her until she manages to steady herself on her elbows. I go back to rubbing her ass with one hand while massaging her pussy with the other. She’s bucking against my hold, whimpering with need and trying to grind against my hand, thrusting towards it in uneven, completely broken thrusts. She’s fueled by lust and it’s beautiful—but not enough. I lean down, letting my breath fan against her side, my lips grazing her hip.

“Such a beautiful little pussy. So hungry and greedy, it’s trying to devour my hand. You’d let me fuck you with my whole hand if I could get inside, wouldn’t you, pet? You’d do anything I ask right now if I just let you come. Say it, Ana.”

“Anything,” she whispers on a heavy breath.

I take my hands away, refusing to give her any kind of relief. Instead, I bring my palm hard on her ass. My dick jerks as the noise of my hand slapping that white fleshy ass rings through the room.

“Roman!” she yells out in surprise.

I spank her again, and again. She’s trying to get away, but that too is impossible, and by the time I deliver the tenth stinging slap, she’s thrusting up to meet my hand and panting.

“I’ll ask you again, Ana. Who owns this body?”

“You do!” she hisses.

I manhandle her. There’s no other way to put it. There’s nothing easy about the need slamming through me right now. I flip her over. The small area of movement she had with the tie ceases as the fabric twists and wraps around her wrists one more time, pulling taut. She cries out, but her hands are positioned high above her head, just like I want them. This won’t last long, so I won’t worry the pain will be too much. Later, I’ll take her slower. Now, the need to be inside her has been too long denied.

I push her legs up against her chest, opening that pussy to me. It’s so wet and covered in her juices, I could lose it right here. Instead, I spank the wet, juicy lips of her pussy. My dick cries as her body jerks up toward it. Her body shakes and I could swear a small orgasm runs through her body. She cries out my name and that drives me to take it further. I pull the lips of her pussy apart and slap my hand against it again, this time centering most of the attention on her hard, pulsating clit. She says something, but she’s so far gone the words are unrecognizable. Cream is literally pooling from her pussy, coating the side of her thighs. If I could stand it, I’d continue doing this over and over. Right now, my cock is demanding his due.

“Who owns this body, Ana?” I demand again. I’m going overboard, I know it, but I can’t stop it. My need for her to admit that she’s mine is as elemental as breathing.

“You,” she whimpers, her body shuddering.

I unlatch my pants, pushing them down my hips. I don’t have time to undress. I’ll worry about that later too. I line my cock up at her entrance, raking the head back and forth in her juices.

“I’m going to fuck you, Ana, and fill you with my cum, branding you from the inside, out.”

Her head comes up to look at me, her eyes round and she’s biting her lip. “Hurry,” she gasps, and that’s all the encouragement I need.

I brace myself on her knees, which are bent back against her body, and thrust inside her. Her muscles immediately clench my cock tight, rippling around it in a way that I know I won’t be able to hold on for very long. I pull out and then thrust back inside, firm. When I’m seated deep inside of her, I grind down on her pussy. Her body shudders beneath me and she cries out my name as another orgasm pummels her body—this one much bigger. Over and over I ram in and out of her, riding her hard. I can feel the heat run through my dick and my cum releasing into her.

“After I’m done,” I breathe, “I’m going to fuck you again.”

“Yes. God, yes,” she whimpers.

“Then, sweet Ana, I’ll pull out and come all over this body,” I tell her, stroking her stomach with my hand and envisioning my cum all over the creamy white skin. I’m shuddering as my climax moves through me, but I want to hold off, not give in completely until I give her the words that will show her just how obsessed I am. “I’ll pull out and come all over this body,” I repeat, “just so there’s no fucking doubt that you are, in fact,” I take a breath right before I trust back into her, “mine.”

I give in to the demand of my climax and let stream after stream of my cum jet inside of her, painting her fucking womb with my seed. I know it and I own it. I want her pregnant. I want Ana fucking tied to me, unable to get away. I collapse to the side of her, my head on her breast. I shiver as my dick slides from her body. My hand goes to her pussy and I hold it there, holding my cum inside of her, not wanting one drop to leave her.

Roman’s headed to the nightclub. I watch him until the elevator doors close and enjoy the dark knowing smile he wears as he watches me. I’m wearing nothing but his white buttoned-up shirt, which is too big for me. My hair is rumpled because he just fucked me to an inch within my life. My body is deliciously sore and I wish he wasn’t leaving. When the doors close, I take a deep breath and fall back on the Italian leather sofa. The damn thing is so soft, it should be illegal. I close my eyes and try to get a grip on my emotions, just like I do every time Roman leaves me.

I’ve been living with Roman in this apartment for two weeks now. Two weeks of his constant attention and being his woman have altered me in ways I never expected. Honestly, we’ve settled into a routine, and if only it wasn’t built on lies and deceit, I would be completely happy.

I’ve been ignoring Paul’s summons. He’s getting more insistent. Roman almost caught one of his 911 texts last night from the small prepaid cell I keep. I hid the phone in a bunch of towels and distracted him with sex. I seem to distract Roman a lot with sex.

I’ve been putting it off, but I’ll have to touch base with Paul and I’m dreading it. He’ll want to know if I’ve planted the coke and set up a sting. I haven’t and I don’t think I can. I’m just dreading the conversation with Paul.

I grab the cell from my purse and text Paul:

Cloverfield Medical Complex. 2 p.m.

Even setting up the meeting twists my gut. I’m apparently going to Roman’s physician to get checked out today. He informed me it’s something we should have done weeks ago, but I make him forget his rules. He’s already shown me the clean bill of health the doctor gave him and I guess this is my turn. I want to be offended, but let’s face it, in today’s world that’s smart. Probably way too late, considering we’re fucking like bunnies every chance we get, but whatever. Besides, I can’t hardly be offended since I’m lying to him every time I turn around.

That’s starting to bother me too. They warned me you can go too deep undercover, so deep that you start to lose sight of who you are and become the person you’re portraying. The thing is, in this case, I’m being me. The real Ana. The Ana that I’ve kept hidden since I was the scared sixteen year old that Paul Banks saved. When I’m with Roman, it’s not about being someone I don’t know; it’s all about letting my guard down and showing him who I am. Which is crazy. Completely crazy.

Roman swears he’s doing his best to help me with my brother. He hasn’t shown me proof, but I still find myself believing him, which makes me wonder if I didn’t have Roman Anthes pegged wrong to begin with. He’s becoming more relaxed around me, so much so that in this past week, he’s even beginning to talk business in front of me. Not a lot, but little things, enough for me to understand he’s brokering a deal with the Russian mob. That should terrify me—and maybe it does—but not enough to turn me away from him.

My phone vibrates. I look at the text with a feeling of dread:

About fucking time. I’ll be there.

The more I see the words, the more I want to vomit. I clear off all history of the texts and bury my phone back in my purse. I can’t put this off any longer. I jump in the shower. It’s a busy day and I don’t have time to waste. I’ve got the doctor’s appointment, the fight with Paul (and it will be a fight), and then tonight I’m accompanying Roman to a dinner party. He bought me the sexiest, barely-there little black dress I have ever seen. I’m all set, but I’m a nervous wreck about it, too. I may need medication to survive today. That’s my last thought as I go jump in the shower.

Time to stop putting things off.

The doctor’s appointment threw me off. I’m feeling like the world’s biggest idiot. How did it not register to me that I had been having unprotected sex with Roman for two weeks? Unprotected sex with a man I’ve been trying to get information on to prove he’s part of a Miami underground drug ring? A man I suspected at one time of killing my brother? Unprotected sex. Maybe Paul’s right and my brain is all fucked up. Maybe the best thing would be to have the DEA and FEDs pull me.

I’m kicking that around in my head as I make my way to the first floor to meet Paul. My appointment was at one and I’m now ten minutes late. I texted him and told him to wait for me by the pharmacy area. There’s an alcove right off the main room where I can meet with him briefly. It’s the most I can chance right now. I don’t think Roman has me tailed, but I’m sure he has Robert watching me and making sure I’m okay. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Roman Anthes, it’s that he’s very protective.

“You’re fucking late,” Paul barks at me. I look around to notice the area is empty. The pharmacy is shut down for a late lunch, so thankfully no one is around to hear him.

“Will you shut the fuck up for Christ’s sake before you blow my cover?”

“You’ve been radio silent for two fucking weeks and you expect me to be concerned with blowing your fucking cover? What’s wrong, Ana? Afraid Roman won’t fuck you anymore if he knows you’re a cop?”

I don’t even think. I slap him across the face. The force of my hit turns his head sideways. He brings his hand up to his face and looks at me with contempt. Had my relationship with Paul not already been deteriorating, that look would have destroyed me. “Fuck you,” I growl.

“Who knew sleeping with a felon would give you spunk,” Paul says, his voice deadly. He brings his hand up to rub where I hit him. “Maybe once you’re done playing Roman’s whore, I’ll give you a go so you can compare.”

His words make me want to hurl. They literally make me gag. The man I looked up to and thought I owed so much to says these vile things. I thought of him as a father. My stomach cramps with the need to vomit. I breathe through it, instinctively determined not to show weakness to him.

“I want a new handler. If you don’t make it happen, I will. The choice is yours,” I tell him, my voice quiet. I turn to leave and he grabs my hand, pulling me around to face him.

“You think you’re getting off that easy? You signed up for this fucking job and you’ll tow the line or you’ll pay. I’ve had Anthes in my sight for over a fucking year and I’m not letting some wet-behind-the-ears wanna-be-detective ruin it for me. You have until tomorrow afternoon to plant that shit, or I’ll have someone else do it.”

“You can’t—”

“Watch me. Do your fucking job, Ana. That’s why you’re here. That’s the only reason you’re here. Don’t forget for even a minute that if Anthes knew you were a cop, he’d kill you without a second thought. You’re nothing to him. Nothing but an easy piece of ass who keeps her legs spread.”

I start to slap him again but he grabs my hand, preventing me.

“What happened to you?” I ask confused.

“Not a fucking thing. Except a woman I used to admire has become the fuck-toy to one of the vilest men in Miami. Get your head out of your ass and back in the game, Ana. Do your job, or I’ll do it for you.”

“I’m no one’s fuck-toy. You’re overstepping your bounds. I could have you—”

“What the fuck is going on here?” Roman snarls.  My face goes pale as I turn away from Paul to see Roman standing at the door.

Fuck.

The last thing I expected to see was Ana standing there yelling at the one man I’m dying to kill.  Paul Banks. If there’s a man more deserving to be on the wrong end of a pistol, I haven’t met him. Which is saying something, in my line of work. My eyes narrow on the hold he has on Ana and the strange look on her face. I walk to them, anger fueling every step. There will be no saving the motherfucker now.

“I suggest you let go of my woman, Banks. Now, while you still have a hand.”

Paul turns her loose with a look of disgust. “Anthes. I didn’t realize they let scum out on the streets this early.”

“What the fuck is going on here? Ana, how do you know this weasel?” I ask, and her face blanches and goes even whiter.

“Ana and I go way back. I never figured you were one to take my leftovers, Roman. I guess you’re growing bored of sampling the women who work for you.”

I hear Ana’s gasp, but my attention has turned to the fucker in front of me. All of my attention is on Banks.

“Ana, go to the car,” I order.

“Roman, he’s lying. I never slept with him.”

“To the car, Ana,” I tell her again, showing no emotion, but I’d be a fucking liar if I didn’t admit to the fact that knowing she hadn’t been with Banks doesn’t soothe something inside of me. “Robert, escort Ana to the car,” I tell my driver. I don’t turn to make sure my order is followed. I know it will be, and I don’t trust Banks enough to take my eyes off of him. “You come near Ana again, and you’ll regret it.”

“Has the mighty Roman Anthes fallen for a pussy?”

“You heard me, Banks. You can push your weight around all you want, but you and I both know what a bottom dweller you are. Be careful you don’t end up at the bottom of an ocean.”

“Is that a threat, Anthes? Threatening cops can get you in deep shit these days,” he responds arrogantly.

“Not a threat. I don’t waste my time with threats. I’m saying you so much as sniff the wind in Ana’s direction and I’ll end you. Take that any way you want.”

“Maybe she’s the one sniffing in my direction. Trying to find a real man who—”

I strike out before he can finish, my knuckles crunching against his teeth. He goes down with a thud. Blood pours from his lip and I hope I’ve at least knocked his teeth loose.

“Ana is not on your radar. Ever. Consider this the only warning you’ll get, Banks. You might hide behind your badge, but don’t forget I know where you’ve fucking buried the bodies.”

It’s a useless warning. He signed his death warrant when he put his hand on Ana. I planned on ending him for a while; I was just holding off, not wanting to draw possible attention as long as I was talking to Kuzma, but some things a man can’t ignore.

I walk away from Banks then, pulling my phone out and calling Bruno. “Banks has overstepped for the last time. You got the number of that guy we used near Orange County? Marcum?”

“Yeah.”

“Call him. I want this fucker handled. Set up a meeting tomorrow. I have that damn charity dinner tonight.”

“You got it, boss.”

I click the phone off and walk out towards the limo. I need to find out from Ana what the fuck is really going on because I don’t believe for a minute she’s let Banks between her legs. I hope like hell I’m not fucking lying to myself.

Ugly. What just went on brought new meaning to the word “ugly”. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. The bad vibes Paul gave me when trying to force my hand the other day at my apartment were bad, but I didn’t think they’d go this far south. I never expected Paul to morph into someone I did not know. Someone I don’t want to know.

I’ll have to think about it later. What I need to worry about the most is Roman. What the hell am I supposed to do now? What did he hear? I don’t think I’m going to be able to distract him with sex this time.

Time for questions are over when Roman slides into the limo like a dark thundercloud.

“Roman …”

“How do you know Banks?”

“Roman. I—”

“Answer the question, Ana, and do us both a favor and don’t lie to me,” he growls.

His tone and words take me aback. I want to scream at him, but I can’t. It would be ridiculous, considering I’ve yet to tell him the entire truth since I met him.

“He saved me once.”

Roman’s face grows harder. “Saved you how?”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Too fucking bad. Tell me, Ana.”

“Fuck you!” I growl before I can stop myself. I’ve had enough. Enough of men putting pressure on me. Enough of this war going on inside of me, enough of everything.

“Fuck me?” he asks, seemingly astonished, and maybe he is. I doubt any woman has ever told him to go fuck himself before. Roman’s probably got a long line of women who are ready and willing to say yes.

“You heard me. I’ve had it with men telling me what to do! That includes you, Daddy!” I punch the intercom button. “Robert, pull over.”

Roman’s eyes narrow and he pushes the button a second after me. “Robert, if you pull over, you’re fired. Take us to the apartment.”

“You can’t keep me here.”

“I can fucking do whatever I want.”

“Fine! I’ll jump out!”

I’m acting unreasonable. I’m just so freaking close to my breaking point. I can still feel Paul’s hand gripping mine and hear his hateful words. I feel like I’ve lost someone dear, because he’s dead to me. The Paul I thought I had in my life obviously doesn’t exist anymore. I don’t even get to grieve that before Roman is upon me with his demands. I just can’t handle it. Not right now. I need to get away…

“The fuck you will,” Roman growls, pulling me onto his lap, but there’s nothing loving about him this time. His grip and hold is hard. His arms are like a prison, locking me into him. I try to pull away, twisting and turning, bracing my hands on his shoulders to push away from him. His hand wraps in my hair and knots in it. I pull, ignoring the pain. It’s useless. He’s not letting me move. He pulls my head up and I’m trapped, not only by his hold on me, but by the look in his eyes. “You’re going nowhere, Ana. Ever.”

His words should fill me with fear. Instead it’s excitement.

I know I’m being irrational. I haven’t been able to be rational about this whole thing since seeing Ana with the one man I despise above all others. Seeing his hand on her and touching what is mine only made that feeling more intense. I’m charging at her instead of giving her time to talk and be rational. But being rational is beyond me right now. I’m one step away from the ledge and Ana is trying to push me over. I’ve been gentle with Ana. Way too gentle. In a way, today is my fault too. She forgot who is in control. Time to fucking remind her.

“I want to know how Banks saved you.”

“And I don’t want to tell you!” she growls.

I’m a dominating man. It’s elemental to who I am. Until Ana, that’s been relatively easy. Women fall in line effortlessly. Ana’s continued defiance alternates between driving me insane and exciting me.

I claim her mouth. Our lips collide with so much energy there is almost pain. Teeth clash and our tongues war. My hand is tight in her hair, holding her, forcing her to submit while I devour her. I bite into her lip, not enough to break the skin, but enough to get her attention, leave signs I was there, and to show her who is in charge.

“How do you know Banks, pet?” Her eyes are spitting fire at me. Her tongue is moving over her swollen lip, trying to brush away the sting. “Ana,” I warn, almost at the end of my rope.

“He was a beat cop that was called out to my mom’s when I was sixteen. One of her customers woke up and, since mom was passed out, he thought he’d give me a go.”

Her words are hurled at me and they wound, as they were meant to. I pull tighter on her hair, not because she’s displeased me, but because her words light something inside that makes me want to kill. And I will. I will hunt the motherfucker down and kill him. I don’t care that’s it’s been over ten years. His blood will be on my hands and I will be the reason he draws his last breath. “Did he…?” Fuck, I can’t even say the words.

“No. Paul stopped him in time.” I refuse to feel an ounce of gratitude to that fucker. It’s not in me. “Until recently, I thought Paul was a friend. I looked at him like a father.”

I ignore the fact that she viewed a man my age, maybe a couple years younger as a father. I might be too old for Ana, but I’m not giving her up. Something else bothers me about what she said, however.

“Until recently? Have you seen Paul before today?”

“Until today, I meant. I’m sorry I’m just so rattled. He hates you Roman. Why does he hate you so much?”

She sounds frightened, and if she really cared about Banks that much, this had to be a hard blow for her, yet here I am, holding her. As guilt hits me, I let go of the stronghold I have on her hair and pull her into me, holding her close in my lap. I absently brush her hair with my fingers as I try to figure out how to put the things I need to say without hurting her further.

“You get that what I do might not be something everyone could handle. I deal with rules and laws outside of normal society.”

“Roman,” she starts, but I shut her down.

“It’s just facts, pet. I’m not asking you to condone what I do. I’m not asking for absolution. In fact, I love the fuck out of my life and things I do. It’s who I am. But some people might view me as slime, as the dregs of society. If I’m that, then Paul is worse. He has no honor even towards the laws in my world. He’s a bottom dweller, pure and simple, and the world would be a much better place if he had a bullet put in him.”

Her body tenses up and she tries to pull away. I know that I let my hate for Banks overrule my tongue. I didn’t go softly, not even a little bit.

“But Roman, he’s a cop. He’s devoted his life to—”

“This ain’t the movies, pet. Good guys don’t always wear white. Some of the lowest fucking men I’ve dealt with hide behind a badge.”

“You sound like you hate cops, but they keep the world from chaos. Without laws…”

I put my hand on her neck and pull her eyes to me. She needs to get this. I need her to understand. My world is the world she resides in now. She’s not leaving, so she needs to accept who I am—what I am.

“Men, pet. Men are human. There are good and bad in all of us, and I abide by my laws. It keeps chaos in my world from getting out of control and that world is yours now.”

“Roman, I’m not sure I want to be in your…”

I stop the words with a kiss, drinking from her lips in a kiss that’s sweeter and gentler than any we’ve shared before. Our lips move against each other, caressing. I suck her bottom lip into my mouth, pulling it with my teeth and running my tongue along the inside curve. Slowly, her mouth opens, the warmth and taste of her invading me and drugging my senses. My tongue moves in, seeking hers and dancing with it, trying to convey how I feel about her without the words. Words just get in the way. Ana and I have always communicated best through our bodies.

When the kiss is finished, she pulls back slowly, curls into me, and rests her head against my shoulder. Her arm goes around me and she holds onto me. It’s a simple gesture, but one I will never take for granted. Nothing about Ana being mine, can be taken for granted.

“Take me home, Roman,” she whispers.

Home.  I haven’t had one of those before Ana. She’s home for me. I wrap my arms around her and settle back into the seat, counting the minutes until I can make love to her.

Make love.

It might sound stupid. Maybe I’m the stupidest woman in the world. But when Roman pulls me in his arms and he kisses me… when all of this powerful, strong, and virile man’s attention is centered on me, I cave. I know what kind of man he is. I know what he’s done in his life. I’ve read page after page of all of the things that the DEA and FBI know Roman Anthes has done, but can’t get proof. So, maybe I am crazy. All I know is that I feel loved, cared for, and safer in Roman’s arms than I did standing near Paul today. Paul was the one who scared me and seemed out of control. Going with Roman and being with him felt… right. There’s no other way to put it.

Nothing about this case has turned out the way I thought it would in my head. Nothing I thought about Roman Anthes jives with the man I’m slowly falling in love with. I’m losing sight of my purpose. I’m supposed to be trying to save my brother. I’m supposed to be getting proof against Roman. I’m not sure I can do that now. I don’t think I want to do that now. And my brother, he hates me. He hates that I’ve kept stepping in and trying to save him. He hates that I became a cop. There’s so much bad blood between us, but I can’t sit by and let him die. If there’s a chance he’s out there and I can save him, I have to do it.

When the limo comes to a stop, I can’t make myself leave Roman’s lap. It doesn’t matter anyway because he holds me tighter and carries me from the limo. We don’t talk in the elevator either. I reach up and link my hands behind his neck and rest in his hold. It’s been a day and I’m emotionally spent. I don’t think I can take any more tonight. I will think about everything tomorrow. I will try my best to clear my head and plan then. For tonight, I’m going to get lost in Roman.

He carries me straight into our bedroom, placing me gently on the bed. He crouches down in front of me, pulling me around so my feet are on the ground and slides my shoes off. Once he’s done with that, he cups my neck and strokes his thumb across my cheek, a move so familiar that I’ve come to crave it, producing a feeling that I feel down in my soul. “I’ll be back, pet,” he tells me, and I have to smile. I still hate that damn nickname, but when he says it with that smile, I want him to say it again and again. This magic he works on me defies explanation.

He disappears into the bathroom and I flop back on the bed and breathe for the first time since Roman saw me talking to Paul. I have this urge to tell Roman everything. How would he react? It would feel good to come clean. I think what Roman and I have is real. He’d understand.

Roman comes back in before I completely convince myself. I need to think about it. What I’m contemplating has a lot of repercussions, least of all compromising my future as a cop and, ultimately, detective. I thought that was what I wanted, but now I’m not so sure.

“Stand up, pet.”

I look up to see Roman reaching for me. My hand goes in his and he pulls me from the bed. He turns me so my back is to him. The sound of the zipper on my dress sliding down is the only noise in the room. It seems unnaturally loud. His hands encircle my neck from behind. My pulse automatically jumps and a tight ball of desire curls in my stomach. He brushes his hands down my shoulders on each side, snagging my dress as he goes. The dress slides down my arms and cool air hits my chest as it falls to a puddle at my feet. I swallow because, as many times as I’ve been with Roman, this feels momentous. I don’t know what the shift is between us, but it’s there. He kisses the back of my neck at the base of my spine as his hands come around my sides to meet at my stomach. They fan out, following the line of my hips. His lips continue to leave a trail of kisses down the vertebrae on my back to the point that I know he’s on his knees behind me. The idea of Roman Anthes on his knees while worshipping my body runs a giddy thrill of pure joy through me. It settles in my heart. It cements there, taking up residence.

This is real, what Roman and I have. This can’t be all about sex. It feels too different.

When I feel his teeth bite into my hip, a moan of pleasure escapes my lips. I turn so I can look down at him. He’s captured my thong in his mouth and pulls it down from my body, his dark eyes watching me the entire time. My heart beats triple the speed in my chest and every feminine part of my body clenches, preparing for an explosion. This man is lethal. He unhooks my garter, slowly rolling my stocking down one leg. I brace myself on the bed as he lifts my foot and removes it before starting on my other one. Each touch, each fleeting kiss grabs hold of me, refusing to let me go.

By the time he’s done, I’m completely naked and facing the bed, which seems to be his plan because he stands up behind me. I feel his hot breath graze across my skin. His hands hold my upper arms against my body and he places a kiss on my shoulder, his tongue tracing my collarbone. When he reaches my neck, I automatically tilt it to the right, giving him better access. His tongue paints a path from my shoulder to my ear and back down. Then I feel his teeth bite gently into my neck, capturing the vein that is throbbing crazily, betraying my excitement. He sucks that into his mouth while his teeth knead the skin and my knees go weak.

“Stretch out over the bed, Ana,” he orders.

His voice causes tremors of excitement to run through my body. I do as he asks, trying to control my breathing. He walks around to the other side of the bed and I look up at the man who is slowly owning my soul. He’s holding his tie in his hand. He has this look on his face that if I wasn’t already on fire for him, I would be with just that look. I reach my hands out to him, expecting him to tie them again, even wanting it. I love the feeling I get when I am completely at his mercy.

“No, pet. This evening’s lesson is all about feeding your senses,” he tells me.

He takes the tie and secures it around my eyes, tying it. I’m immediately enclosed in darkness. The silk material glides against my closed eyelids and I breathe heavily, wondering just what comes next.

I go a few minutes without Roman’s touch. For a bit, it feels like he left the room. The heady energy that is uniquely Roman is gone. Then I hear his footsteps. It sounds like he is pacing around the three sides of the bed, and I can almost feel his gaze on me. With each minute that passes like this, my anticipation wars with my nerves. I start to smell the faint scent of cherry in the air. After a minute or two, it gets stronger.

“Roman?” I finally question, using my elbows to support me and lifting my lower half off the bed, trying to search for him blindly.

“Which sense do you think is stronger, pet? Sight? But then you don’t have that one right now, do you?” he asks me. I jump because, from his voice, it appears he is standing right in front of me. “Maybe it’s hearing. Do my movements sound louder to you now that you can’t see, Ana?” he asks, his voice almost casual, but I can hear the undertone of need in it.

“Yes,” I whisper. That’s when I hear the crinkle of his slacks in front of me and feel his breath skate against my forehead as he places a soft kiss there.

“Maybe it’s taste,” he whispers, his voice wickedly soft.

His finger trails down my jawline, following my chin. I’m completely taken by surprise when I feel another hand hold my breast, pinching my nipple between his large fingers and pulling. When I cry out, his finger moves from my chin to my mouth, sliding inside. I close my lips around it, sucking his finger inside my mouth and sliding my tongue around it, imagining it is his cock.

He pulls on my nipple again and his lips are by my ear. “I’ll definitely give you something to taste soon, Ana,” he tells me, and when he takes his finger away, I bite my lip to keep from begging him to give it to me now.

I whimper in disappointment as I hear him stand up. He walks around the bed and I can hear him behind me. I try to decipher the noises he makes, but my breathing is too ragged, my heartbeat too loud.

“I think maybe touch could be the strongest sense to experience,” he says, his hand moving over my ass cheeks and up to my back.

I thrust my ass back towards him, begging without words for him to take me. Instead, I feel something slap against my ass. The sting is immediate as the cold leather connects, once, twice… three times. Burning heat zips through my skin and I cry out from the force of it. My wet pussy clenches internally as more juices rush forth. I’m on a razor’s edge and a breath away from climaxing. I feel something tickle across the heated skin in a zigzag type of movement. Feathers?

“Do you like that, pet?”

“Roman,” I gasp, the blood rushing through my ears.

Just like that, the feeling is gone. Then I feel the leather return, moving across my ass in much the same pattern, but it doesn’t stop. It moves lower and with purpose until it’s sliding against the lips of my pussy. When it pushes into the wet valley, I moan at the intrusion. It moves as if being guided, and the hard leather rubs over my clit—back and forth, ending in a small circle, and then repeating, over and over until my ass is pushing off of the bed and my pussy is trying hopelessly to latch onto the torture device so I can at least ride it.

“Oh, pet, you are soaked. I don’t think you’ve ever been this wet before,” he says before walking away. I cry out over the loss of both him and whatever he used to spank me with. My body grinds against the mattress and my fingers bite into the comforter on the bed so tightly, I’m surprised it doesn’t rip. I’m terrified he will leave me like this and not finish me off. “Hold still, Ana,” he growls. I definitely hear desire heavy in his voice now. My body instantly stills as if he controls it by invisible wires. “Good girl,” he says, his hand brushing along my ass, which still feels heated. He rubs it gently and then moves up my lower back. “How about we try a different kind of touch this time, Ana?”

I’m confused, but before I can ask him anything, I feel hot liquid drip onto my back. It’s painful, but there’s a warmth that spreads through me. It brings out an elemental response in me that’s even more pleasurable than when he spanks me.

“Fuck…” I whisper as another drop hits and runs down my side.

“We’ll get to that soon too, Ana,” he whispers. “Very soon.”

I watch as the wax drips down on Ana’s body, gathering in deep pools of maroon and then slowly hardening as her body cools it down. I watch in fascination as the wax makes color trails against her milky white skin. Ana is so receptive to anything I do. I never thought I’d be someone who decided to keep a woman permanently, but I’m going to. They’ll have to pry Ana out of my dead hands before I let her go. I put the candle down, not because I’m not enjoying the fuck out of our game, but because my dick is so hard, I can’t spend another moment outside of her. I reach under her stomach and pull her up on her knees.

“Hurry, Roman,” she whispers.

“Is my pet hungry to be fucked?” I ask her, my hand moving over her ass and up her back. I love touching her. I love watching the way my dark hand stands out against her pale skin. I let my finger trail over the hard ridge of the wax on her body. Satisfaction rolls through me. I love knowing that I’m seeing a part of her that no other fucker will ever have.

“Yes. God, yes,” she pants.

I unzip my pants. I don’t have the time to take them off. I need inside her more than I need my next breath. I push them out of my way and line my cock up with her pussy, pushing just the tip inside her. She’s so wet and hungry, that’s all it really takes. If I let her, she’d suck my dick in and this would end way too quickly. I take back control, holding my cock tight, trying to hold back my own orgasm. I’m that ready to blow.  I use it to circle her pussy. Her juices are so thick, they instantly start dripping down my cock, coating me in… her. That possessive feeling overtakes me again and I know there’s no way I’m going to be able to hold back. I slide my cock back and forth against her pussy, letting the shaft graze her clit. The lips of her sweet cunt hold me in place as I let her ride my dick like that. It feels fucking good and I can feel the way she’s already trembling against my cock. My hands bite into her hips as I close my eyes and enjoy the way her slick, wet pussy moves up and down my shaft, branding it in her desire.

“I’m close, Roman,” she says, her voice hoarse and full of need.

I pull back, lining my cock up. I grab her hair in my hand and pull it roughly back. “Who do you belong to Ana?” I growl.

“Roman,” she cries, but I pull harder, her head coming back further as I lean over her, the hunter towering over his prey.

“Who do you belong to?” I growl, asking again.

“You, Roman. I belong to you,” she whispers.

Hearing the words I needed most, I thrust into her, not stopping until my balls are pushing against the outside of her pussy. Her walls close in on my dick, squeezing and fluttering all around it, signaling how close she is. I keep my hold on her hair as I pull out and then thrust back in. I fuck her harder and harder in a way that I know she’ll feel me for weeks to come, in a way that with every step she takes, she’ll ache and miss my cock at the same time.

“You’re mine, Ana. I’m never letting you go. Mine,” I growl, using her hair to pull her head to the side and exposing her neck. I bite into her shoulder, not even thinking twice about it. I want my mark on her. I want to brandher skin with me.

Ana cries out and her body shakes as her climax rips through her. She meets every thrust I give her, her ass pushing back into me. I’m doing my best to hold back, wanting this to last longer.

“Come with me, Roman, please. Come with me,” she whispers, the effort to form the words causing her voice to shudder.

Hearing her plead like that makes me know I’m a goner. I surrender to Ana, to everything she is and everything we are together. I may have marked her, but she marked me too, and though this mark might not be seen, it’s so fucking deep that I know she will always be there.

She owns me too.

“Roman, you didn’t use condoms,” Ana says.

I’ve pulled us up vertical on the bed, but that is as much as I’ve managed. Fuck, I still have my pants on, though admittedly they are gathered about mid-thigh. Ana is on my shoulder, her back to me.

“We haven’t been using those since the day on your balcony, pet. Kind of late to worry about it now.”

“A baby would be a big mistake right now.”

I’ve been actively trying to get her pregnant and I can’t even put into words how much I disagree with her. In compromise, I don’t comment. I kiss the mark I left on her shoulder and change the subject. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really.”

“Ana? What’s on your mind?”

“It’s just been a long day, Roman, and I…”

“What?” I ask, something in her tone alerting me to the fact that I’m not going to like her next words.

“Roman? Do you know where my brother is?”

My body goes completely still. How did I not see this coming? Motherfucker, Banks had enough time with her to fuck shit up after all.

“Why do you ask me that, Ana?”

“‘Why’ doesn’t matter, Roman. I’m asking you to tell me the truth. Are you the one responsible for my brother missing?”

“The ‘why’ does matter, Ana. I’m asking you to tell me where you heard it and I want to know now.”

She takes a deep breath, so deep I can see it move through her body, and then exhales with a whoosh as she moves to her back. Her eyes find mine and there’s something in those violet depths I’ve not seen before and it worries me.

“The DEA have a file on you, Roman. They suspect you are working with the Russian Drug Cartel. They have photos of my brother in your club the night he disappeared talking to a man they identify as one of your security men. So, I’m asking you, Roman. Do you have my brother, or worse, did you have him killed?”

She asks me these questions while pulling away and sitting up. Anger drums in my veins along with a healthy dose of fear. I haven’t felt that emotion in a very long time, but I feel it now. I can’t let go of Ana. I will not lose her. Not now.

I growl, getting out of bed and pulling my pants up and securing the button to hold them in place. “Did Banks give you all that info?” Her head goes down and I don’t like that shit at all. She will not hide from me. “Ana. Eyes, now.” She slowly raises her head to me and the tears in them is enough to almost completely undo me.

“Is it true, Roman? Do you have my brother? Is he… dead?”

I could lie. The inclination is to do that. Ana would never know and I’d make damn sure that Banks never got near her again to talk to her. That might have been the wisest plan of action. It’s also the one that would allow her to escape me. I can’t allow that. I’m not letting her go.

So I revert back to what my original plan was all along, the plan my stupid brain concocted after I first saw that picture of Ana. Use her brother to gain what I want: her. The only thing that has changed is that the stakes are higher now. I don’t want her in my bed for a week or two. I want her there forever.

“I have your brother, Ana.”

Her gasp fills the room and genuine shock fills her face. She grabs the sheet, pulling it over her body. That one simple movement speaks volumes and it pisses me off.

I rip the sheet from her, throwing it to the floor. “You don’t get to do that, Ana. You don’t get to cover your body from me. Whatever else is going on, you gave yourself to me. You don’t get to take that back.”

“You lied to me, Roman! I asked you for help in finding my brother! If I mattered at all to you, you would have been honest with me.”

“What would I have said, Ana? Your brother was selling drugs in my club and pissing off the wrong people and jeopardizing my business. He had to be handled.”

“Was he? Oh, God… Did you kill Allen? Answer me, Roman!”

“No, Ana. I didn’t kill him. I was going to, but then I saw a picture of this new dancer that had been asking questions to the wrong people…”

“Oh my God.”

“And I decided I wanted her. So he’s still breathing, pet. Rest easy.”

“Who are you?”

“The man you just begged to fuck you. That same exact man.”

“Everything they said is true. You are a monster.”

I can’t hear this shit from Ana. I’m used to being judged and I don’t give a fuck, but I can’t hear it from her.

“Think what you want to, pet, but you’re still mine and you’re not fucking going anywhere.”

She gets up from the bed, finding the sheet I threw down and wrapping herself up in it again. Her eyes are spitting fire at me.

I must, in fact, be the monster she accuses me of, because I am hard as a rock.

“You can’t keep me here against my will, Roman. If I want to leave, I will.”

“Feel free, pet. But if you walk out of that fucking door, then I’ll have no reason to keep your brother breathing.”

It’s a low blow and sounds so much worse now than it did when I originally came up with the idea, but I’m not about to back down, even when she pales and looks at me with nothing but hate.

“How can you do this?” she asks, tears slowly falling from her eyes.

“You can have the rest of the night to make up your mind, Ana.”

“What? Where are you going?”

“Out, but never fear, pet. As long as you’re in this house, your brother is safe,” I tell her, turning away from her.

Fuck. This was not how I planned my evening out. It gives me one more reason to kill Paul Banks. That shit will be put into action tonight.

I handled that badly. Fuck. I know I did, but I was blindsided and pissed that she was trying to hide from me. The trouble with being gone on a woman is you react with your dick and not your brain. If I handled my business like this, I’d be broke.

“You look like you lost your best friend. Want me to buy you a beer to cry in?”

“Fuck you,” I tell him, not looking up from my whiskey.  “You’re traveling late, Marcum.”

“I got a call from this bastard in Miami. Sounded serious, so I thought I’d come see him.”

“Dangerous, in your line of work.”

“Life’s fucking boring without a little danger,” Marcum says. I turn to look at him. He hasn’t changed much. A little gray around the edges, a few more scars, He’s got long hair that he has pulled back in a clasp at the back of his neck right now. He’s wearing jeans, his leather club cut, and cowboy boots. I respect the man. We might be different as night and day on the outside, but on the inside where it counts, we could be fucking twins.

“How’s the fifteen kids?” I ask him, and he gives me the one finger salute. If you can say anything about Marcum, it’s that he’s a fertile son of a bitch. He has so many kids, he could populate a small country with nothing but his offspring.

“Eight, asshole. And not bad. Even got a grandkid now. Max’s woman Tess had a little girl. Prettiest little thing you’ve ever seen.”

“Hard to picture you as a grandfather,” I tell him honestly.

“I’m fucking awesome at it. Hell, should have tried it sooner. Lot easier than your own kids, that’s for fuck sure.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I tell him, taking a drink of my whiskey.

“That job you wanted, that’s not going to be easy, asshole. That fucker has connections,” Marcum says, switching to business quickly, which is just as well since I’m not really in the fucking mood for small talk.

“I’m not paying for easy. While we’re on the subject, I have another problem that needs to be dealt with.”

“Jesus, you’re a needy fucker all at once. What brought on all this shit?”

“A woman,” I growl, pouring more whiskey into my glass.

“Say no more. Jesus, brother. Shouldn’t you have learned from my mistakes?”

“She’s a good one, Marcum. She just comes with a fucking load of baggage.”

“Don’t they all,” he sighs.

“Trouble with Cherry?” I ask him, mentioning his latest squeeze. He’s kept this one the longest and she seems to care about him, but then what the fuck do I know about anything.

“Cherry left.”

“What the fuck for?”

“Now that’s the question. Unfortunately, it’s a question I have no fucking answer for.”

“Life would be fucking simpler if you could just keep them tied to the bed all the time,” I growl, draining the last of my drink.

Marcum stands up and slaps me on the back with a laugh. “Amen, brother. Amen. I got your order in. Get Bruno to send me the particulars on your add-on.”

“Will do. Where you headed?”

“Anywhere my dick takes me, brother. Anywhere my dick takes me.”

I shake my head and let him go. I’d like to think he’s a miserable fuck, but the truth is, I’m being led by my dick too, and at least Marcum’s will have a warm place to spend the night. Thoughts of Ana in our room covering her body from me with tears running down her face flash through my head.

Fuck.

I pull myself out of bed. I think I’m still in shock and I didn’t sleep at all last night. Mostly, I lay in bed reliving the confrontation with Roman. I thought I was prepared. I mean the DEA doesn’t send you undercover for nothing. I knew all along there was a chance that Roman did in fact have Allen, but after meeting him and the way we became with each other, it just didn’t seem to fit. How can someone be so good to you, be sweet and loving, and all the while be holding your brother to use against you—or worse, holding him to kill him? What does it say about me that I slept with this man?

God, what does it say about me that I miss him even now?

My emotions are all over the place and I can’t seem to get them in order. My mind keeps going back to the hostility between Paul and Roman. There’s more there than I know, much more than Paul will ever tell me. The man he makes Roman out to be, the man in the file the DEA has is not the man I’ve come to love—sorry, to care about.

Roman has always treated me like I mattered. Then again, how well do I know him? I jumped in head first, led by a quest to learn more about my brother—and by hormones. Definitely by hormones. I need to see Allen. If I can see him, then maybe things will seem clearer.

It takes me a few minutes to get dressed, brush my teeth, and look like I haven’t lain awake all night crying. I’m not sure I fully succeed. By the time I’ve finished, Roman still hasn’t shown. For all I know, he could still be gone. The thought of him spending the night somewhere else hurts me. Not because I think he went to another woman, it’s just… I want him with me. Even now. God, I am messed up.

I walk through to the main room. Roman is sitting on the sofa, his clothes wrinkled, his hair a mess, and there’s an afghan thrown over the sofa as if he slept there. It’s stupid, but thinking that he has, somehow makes me feel better.

He looks up at me when I stop by the sofa. There’s a look in his dark eyes… a heated look, and I fight against its pull.

“Have you decided, Ana?”

“I want to see Allen.”

“I can arrange that, after I have your word that you’ll stay.”

“This is crazy. Do you realize you’re blackmailing me into—”

“Call it what you want. Your word.  I want your word.”

“Fine. I’ll stay,” I tell him, my stomach churning. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I do know I have to stay either way… for now.

“I’ll have my lawyer draw up the contract.”

“Contract?” I ask, confused.

“You don’t think I’m going to take you at your word, do you, Ana?”

“Roman, I don’t have a law degree, but I’m pretty sure contracts built on blackmail are useless.”

“You’d be surprised what money can do.”

“Money and the right crook for an attorney,” I tell him, unable to believe he’s serious about any of this.

“Whatever, it won’t be an issue, because you will stay.”

“Roman, I think maybe…”

I stop when he gets up and comes to stand in front of me. His hand goes to my neck and he pulls my face up to him.

“You gave yourself to me, Ana. I told you I claimed you. Maybe you don’t understand exactly what that means, but you should.” His fingers trail down my neck, pulling my shirt loose and smiling. I know he sees the dark bruise that he left there when he bit me last night. Just remembering it makes a shudder of need vibrate through me. I know Roman doesn’t miss it when his lips graze my ear. “You can fight it, pet, but your body knows who it belongs to. It craves me even now.”

I fight against the lure of him. It would be so easy to give in, to lose myself in him. I can’t. I need to keep my head straight. I should have been doing that a long time ago. I try to pull away, but Roman tightens his hold on me. “Roman, I want…”

“I bet if I touched you right now your pussy would be soaked for me.”

“Roman…”

“Am I right, Ana?”

He is. I can’t tell him that. I refuse to tell him that.

“I want to see Allen now,” I tell him, my voice monotone, and it takes everything I have to hold my body rigid and sound like I’m unaffected. I know he can tell it’s a lie, but it makes me feel marginally better. His eyes lock with mine and I see disappointment on his face as clear as day for just a split second and then it’s gone.

“Fine. Grab your coat. It’s chilly outside.”

I take a breath and step away from him. I wasn’t sure he would give in this easily. Now, if I can just make Allen listen to me without blowing my cover.

I follow Roman down the stairs to where he’s holding Allen. Each step I take, the nerves of the unknown increases. Roman and I haven’t said a word to each other since we left the apartment. I’m not sure why he’s not talking, but I have nothing to say. I’m feeling so lost. In such a short time, Roman has become this rock on which I lean. I’ve never had that in my life, not really, and Roman filled a void I didn’t know I had.

We make it down a hall to a large cemented area. Even the walls are concrete. The doors are made of steel just like the ones you would find in prison. Roman has the guard unlock the padlock so we can go inside. A part of me wants to run and hide, but instead, I force my feet to move forward. I see Allen. He’s lying on the bed, his right hand chained to a cable that runs across the room, allowing him to go from the bed to a small bath area. My stomach churns because it’s basically a large dog-run, except the cable is longer and more extensive.

“How did I know it wouldn’t be long before you showed up, sister dearest?” he says, and the guilt hits me again. Allen is three years younger than me. I was a kid myself, but he didn’t fare as well as I did with mom’s boyfriends. He blames me. I didn’t protect him enough. I didn’t take care of him. I tried, but I obviously failed and that has done nothing but make him hate me.

“I’m sorry, Allen. I didn’t know,” I whisper lamely.

“Yeah. You seem to not know a lot of shit when you should. Kind of like your boyfriend. Right, sister dear? Imagine my surprise when Roman didn’t know that you were a…”

“Allen,” I yell, trying to stop him before he can reveal to Roman that I’m a cop.

“What a selfish bitch you are.”

“That’s enough, Stevens. I told you to show respect when you talk about your sister. That goes double for when you’re talking to her. She’s the only reason you’re still breathing,” Roman says from behind me, causing me to jump.

I look over my shoulder at him. He’s standing completely still looking at Allen with hate and anger. He’s doing it again, taking up for me when no one ever has before. That funny feeling in the pit of my stomach I get when Roman is around picks up. How can I not be drawn to this man? I touch his arm gently, turning into him. “Can I talk to him alone, Roman? Please?”

The one simple gesture catches Roman by surprise. I read it in his eyes. Seeing the state that Allen is in is jarring at first, until I realize one thing: Allen’s not high. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him where his eyes weren’t glazed over and he didn’t have that crazed look he gets when he’s coming down off his last high. I don’t know what exactly Roman’s endgame is, but I do know right now that he’s helping Allen. Call me stupid a million times—but that’s what I see here, and I think Roman’s doing it for me. Maybe Roman senses the way I’m softening, because he bends down and kisses my forehead.

“I’ll be right outside, pet.”

“Thank you.”

“Pet. Isn’t that precious,” Allen sneers after Roman leaves the room. “Boy, if he only knew the real you, right sis?”

“What’s going on with Roman and I is none of your concern.”

“Wait? Are you really slumming it with the biggest criminal in Miami? Gee, I bet your boss loves that. I’ve already gathered Anthes doesn’t know what you do for a living. I take it your boss doesn’t know about your dating activities either.”

My heart speeds up like crazy. What if Roman can hear what is said in the room? I try to change the subject. “You’re looking better.”

“I’m looking sober. That’s what you really mean, right Ana?”

“Okay, fine. You look like you haven’t been high in a while.”

“I’ve told you a hundred times, that’s my fucking business.”

“Allen, you’re throwing away your life.”

“You don’t live with the memories I have, or the scars, Ana. When you do, you can talk to me about staying sober. Until then, just shut the fuck up.”

“If you could stay sober, there are things we could do to help you cope, Allen. If you let me in, just a little bit, I’ll make sure you have help. I promise.”

“There you go, my goody-two-shoes big sister trying to save me. You don’t seem to get it that I don’t want to be saved. I never asked for your help and I sure as hell don’t want it. You better tend to your own life because trust me, when Anthes finds out that you’re double-crossing him, there will be hell to pay.”

“Allen, he might be…”

“Listening? Do you think I give a fuck? The only reason I haven’t ratted you out yet is because I enjoy watching you squirm. You’ve been too fucking high and mighty for too long. It’s nice to poke at you. If you’re wondering, I do plan to tell him soon. So you might want to find a rock to hide under.”

I wait for Roman to come in, demanding to know what we’re talking about. When nothing happens, I breathe a little easier. “Are you not even going to listen to me?”

“Nope.”

That’s when I give up all hope of ever reaching my brother. I knew it was a longshot, but I had hoped … Hell, I’m not even sure what I hoped. For something more than this, that much is clear. “Will you… will you at least keep my cover until I can manage to get you out of here?”

“Are you working on that?”

“Paul is.”

“Great. The DEA. So I’ll be trading this cage in for a new one. No fucking thanks.”

“Allen, they have you for dealing meth and coke. You have to know there’s not much I can do. My hands are tied. But I’ll be here for you, and by taking this assignment, they’ve told me they’ll make sure you get treatment. You can still live a good life, Allen. We both can. You just need to hold on and help me stay under the radar for a little longer.”

“Tell you what, sis. I’m feeling generous. You have forty-eight hours. After that, I’m singing like the caged canary I am.”

“Allen, I only want to help you. If you’ll just let me try and…”

“You should leave before I decide I’m being too agreeable.”

“I love you, Allen.” He doesn’t answer, but then I didn’t expect him to.

This seems so useless now. Why did I think this might be Allen’s rock-bottom? Why did I think he would accept my help now? Maybe I am as stupid as he keeps telling me I am. This is just one more thing to add to everything that’s been going on. I feel like a small fish being surrounded by sharks and completely out of my depth. I give up and leave because that’s all I can do. There’s more I want to say, but there’s truly no point. Too bad I didn’t realize that before I begged Paul to let me go undercover.

When Ana comes outside, she looks so heartbroken that I want to strangle her brother’s neck. I walk over to her and pick her up in my arms.

“Roman,” she gasps, but I ignore her. She’s mine. I might not be able to protect her from pain, but I can damn sure try to minimalize it. “Will you let me down? I can walk.”

“Shut it, Ana,” I growl.

Having her in my arms and feeling her ass pushing into my skin again, that’s what I needed. Last night was the longest fucking night of my life. I’m not giving her room to get free of me. I was stupid to even allow that. She stays tense in my arms during the whole time it takes to get her back to the limo. When I slide inside, Ana still in my arms, I can feel tension leave her. It soothes over some of my anger. She lets her guard down when it’s just the two of us. I like that because fuck if that’s not when I feel alive. If I had no one else in my life for the rest of my years but Ana, I’d be perfectly okay with that. Fuck, I’ve even decided to back out of the deal with Kuzma. He’ll still do his business, but it will just be away from my club. In return I’ll make sure my club is clean so he doesn’t have competition. It works better for me and it keeps that shit away. The things I deal with might be illegal as fuck, but gambling and whores don’t usually have the blowback drugs and guns have. I want Ana pregnant with my child. I don’t want that shit touching her or our baby.

“He’s so angry,” she whispers, and it’s then I notice my shirt is wet with her tears. I hold her close.

“What’s his story?” I ask her.

I don’t really give a damn, but seeing the dynamics between the two, I know there has to be something between them. I find myself changing from wanting to kill the fucking kid to trying to fix him. For Ana. Always for Ana. I’ve already accepted that this is my reality. I may never have planned on claiming a woman, but she’s mine and by God I will move Heaven and Earth just to make sure she doesn’t cry like she’s doing right now. I keep rubbing my hand back and forth on her arm, kissing the top of her head and just holding her close while quiet sobs shake her body. The interior of the limo is alive with her sadness. It’s killing me, but all I can do is let her cry it out.

“Remember how I told you about the man who thought he’d try to turn to me instead of—?”

“Shh… Ana, I remember,” I tell her, not wanting her to repeat it, not wanting to ever hear about it again. I had Bruno track down the fucker who was arrested in the police raid that Banks was a part of. I sent the information to Marcum. He’s gone. I made his head top priority. I can deal with Banks breathing air a few more days. The thought of the fucker who tried to hurt Ana drawing more breath is unacceptable. Completely unacceptable.

“I wasn’t his first choice. That night… wasn’t the first time it had happened,” she whispers the guilty secret.

“Ana?”

“I ran and hid,” she whispers remorsefully. “God, Roman. Paul doesn’t believe me, but I didn’t think he would. I mean I know now I was naïve, but Allen was a boy. A little boy. What kind of sick monster would… Oh, God.”

“Ana, sweetheart…”

“I hid in a closet, not knowing that just a room over that monster was raping my little brother,” she confesses, crying. “When… when Allen finally told me, it had been going on for a week, Roman. A week.”

“What did you do when you found out, pet?”

“I tried to…”

“What, Ana?” Knowing what she’s about to say, the hate burning in my gut is threatening to explode.

“I tried to—” She breaks off, unable to say the words. Her face is buried so tight into my chest that her words are muffled. No one should live with the misery that my woman has locked inside of her. How did she get to be such a giving person? How did she rise above everything that is in her past? More reasons that Ana will always fascinate me.

“You tried to sacrifice yourself to save your brother, didn’t you, Ana? That’s when Banks found you.”

“Yes.”

“Ana, sweetheart, you did all you could do. You were just a kid.”

“Allen was younger. I should have protected him more. I should have known that a monster preys on all children, not just one because she’s a girl. I was stupid.”

“You were a kid. That’s all, Ana. Just a kid. If anyone is to blame, it’s that snake whose bills you’re paying in that nursing home.”

“Allen despises me most of all for that. But I couldn’t just turn her out on the street, Roman. I hate her for what she’s done. But she can’t even go to the bathroom by herself. I can’t just turn my back…”

She can and she should, but that’s a fight for another time and if I have to pay room and board for that bitch the rest of her life, I will, but my woman will never see the woman again. I won’t allow her poison anywhere near Ana.

“I know it may not feel like it, Ana. But it will be okay. I’ll make it okay.”

“Some things even the great Roman Anthes can’t accomplish,” she half laughs, half cries.

“Watch and see, pet. For you, I can do anything,” I tell her truthfully, making a mental note to call Marcum again. There’s going to be a slight change in plans.

“Are we not fighting anymore?” Ana asks.

The question makes me go tense for a second. “Are you still mad at me?”

“No. You’ve been trying to get Allen clean. Haven’t you, Roman?”

“I would have killed him, Ana. You saved his life, but I can’t lie to you. People don’t cross me without me making an example of them. That’s who I am.”

“Can we forget about who you are outside of the time you’re with me and the same with me? Can we just be Roman and Ana when we’re together?”

“Ana, I’m keeping you. That means the outside stuff will always be there. We can’t bury our heads in the sand and expect—”

“I don’t mean forever, Roman. I mean just a few days. Please? Give me a few days to just have you.”  Just have you… I love those words, and for once, Ana and I are in complete agreement.

“Then let’s go back to my house. I have some engagements coming up. We’ll spend our time there and enjoy the beach.”

“Your maid hates me, Roman.”

“She’s paid help, Ana. I’ll make sure she knows you are in charge, if she plans to keep working for me.”

“Whatever you want,” she whispers, her voice sounding very tired.

I relax back into the seat, Ana still in my lap. It’s not but just a few minutes later her breathing evens out and I know she’s sleeping. I gently maneuver to get my phone out while not waking her up—not an easy task. I punch the number in.

“Yeah?”

“Change of plans. I want the package delivered to me.”

“That’s a lot of bread. I’m not in the curbside delivery business.”

“Money…”

“Is not an object. I get it. Did I mention the fact that you’re a needy fucker?”

“Later,” I tell him, not commenting.

“Later,” he agrees and hangs up. With that done, I hit the intercom to tell Robert to just drive me straight to my house. I have a new wardrobe there for Ana, and anything I need will be there too. I suddenly don’t want to wait one more minute to get her out of this damn car.

“Roman?” I moan, waking up. When he doesn’t answer, I look around the bed to find I’m alone. I glance at the clock and notice it’s a little after midnight. Stretching, I get up, wanting to immediately find him.

We’ve been back at his house for two days, two days that have truly been the best in my life, two days that I truly needed. Seeing Allen almost killed me. Since being undercover, I’ve been pulled into a million different directions. I feel like I’ve lost myself. And maybe going back to Roman’s house and hiding out is running away, but I don’t care. I know things will come to a head with Paul and his crew—and probably very soon. Hell, my brother will be the one to tell Roman before Paul even gets a chance. So, I’m going to take what time I have with Roman and enjoy it. Maybe I can make him so happy that when the truth comes out, he’ll not care. He’ll know I was… Jesus, what was I? In love with him, while setting him up to go to jail?

I love Roman. That revelation makes my heart physically hurt and drum erratically in my chest. I love Roman. I push the thought back before I give myself a mini heart attack. My hand goes to my stomach, resting there. I have so many secrets. So many. I just don’t know how to get out from under them.

I wrap the sheet around my naked body, taking a breath. I pad quietly down the hall, searching out Roman, but careful not to make too much noise. If there’s one dark spot on my time spent here, it would be Mayra, Roman’s maid. He made it clear to her that I am, in fact, her boss now. You would think that would change her attitude towards me. It has, but only in front of Roman. When it’s just me and her, there are waves of hate coming off of her. If I weren’t keeping a million secrets, all of which will blow up in my face soon, I’d call her on it. As it is, right now, I don’t feel I have the right.

“Roman?” I whisper again, this time at his office. I turn the knob and see him sitting there at his desk talking on his phone. His hair is rumpled and he’s wearing slacks and nothing else—and he looks sexy as hell. Roman has a tattoo on his chest. It’s the only mark he has. It says: “Strength and loyalty”. It’s beautiful and I want to lick it every time I see it, even if lately the word “loyalty” makes me feel horrible. Roman deserves my loyalty. He’s never done one thing to hurt me. He’s not the man I read about. That’s the thing. When I took this case, he was words in a file, a means to an end, a criminal. Roman is not that person to me now. Whatever happens, I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I can’t continue this line of work because, if anything, it has taught me that sometimes the bad guys aren’t all that bad, and the good guys can be rotten to the core.

Roman motions me inside, but I hesitate. “I’ll just go back to our…”

“Sit, pet,” he orders while cupping his hand over the receiver of the phone. He’s smiling. But then, he’s been smiling a lot in the two days we’ve been here. I’m proud of each one because it feels like I gave that to him. When I start to walk around to the front of the sofa and sit, he stops me. “On the back of the sofa, Ana. Sit facing me so I can see you.”

His command sends ripples of desire through me. Which, after the workout he gave me earlier, should be impossible. I sit on the back of the sofa, feeling weird. Roman gets up, all while still talking on the phone about some deal overseas. I’m not really listening; I’m entranced with the look in his eyes.

He comes to a stop in front of me and adjusts the sheet so it gathers at my hips, leaving the entire top part of my body exposed. My nipples tighten and pebble as the cool air hits them. Roman bends down and moves his lips over one, and then the other. I whimper at the feel of his tongue brushing against them. He centers in on my right breast, using his tongue to bathe it, flicking back and forth along the nipple slowly and methodically. Moisture pools between my legs, painting the insides of my thighs. I bury my fingers in his hair, needing more of him. He sucks the nipple in his mouth and I gasp loudly, my pussy quivering. He releases it, blowing against my breast with his heated breath. My eyes close at the sensations he evokes. When I feel his mouth on my nipple again, I thought I knew what to expect, but then he bites it—and not gently. He does it in a way that the pain washes through me and makes my whole body quake because I know with Roman, that sting of pain means more pleasure than I could have ever dreamed before him.

I cry out his name. “Roman! Give me more, please?” I whimper.

When he rises up with a look of satisfaction on his face, I realize he’s still on the phone. I bite my lip hard to keep from begging him to fuck me. Roman backs away to his chair. He sits down, watching me. I swallow against the intensity in his look.

“Maria, we’ll have to finish this discussion later. Something has come up requiring my attention,” he says, hanging up the phone.

“Who’s Maria?” I ask, jealousy firing on all cylinders before I can stop it. Heat hits my face because I know Roman realizes my possessiveness.

“My secretary, pet.”

“Is she pretty?”

“Beautiful,” he says and a sick feeling twists in my stomach.

“Have you… fucked her?”

“Would it matter? I haven’t touched another woman since I saw your picture, Ana. I haven’t even looked at another one.”

“It shouldn’t matter…”

“But it does?”

“I’m sorry.” I know I am being unreasonable, but I’m still wishing I could throat punch his secretary right now.

Then, Roman grins. He grins.

“My possessive little pet. I think I like this side of you. But it doesn’t matter,” he says, unzipping his pants, his eyes never leaving mine.

“It doesn’t?” I ask, losing track of the conversation because I can’t drag my eyes away from Roman as he takes his cock out of his pants. It’s fully erect, and just seeing it makes my insides clench with need.

“No,” he says, but it’s his hand that has my attention. His hand is squeezing his cock and then stroking it so slowly that I swear I can see as every centimeter of his dick vanishes behind his hand. As the head disappears where I can’t see it, I watch as his other hand comes out and massages his balls. His cock becomes shiny with the juice dripping down it. Everything inside of me is demanding I go to him and take him in my mouth.

“Why doesn’t it matter?” I ask, my tongue coming out to lick against my bottom lip, wishing I could taste that one large drop of pre-cum that drops from the head of his cock onto his hand.

“My secretary is a happily-married great grandmother of five.” My eyes move up to him at that and he’s… grinning.

“Asshole,” I grumble. I want to watch his cock again, but the joy in his smile is more captivating. I couldn’t turn away from it if I wanted to. Then, he laughs. A full, deep laugh. If I hadn’t already admitted to myself that I was in love with Roman, this would be the moment. He’s laughing.

“You are constantly surprising me, pet,” he says, and he has no idea. Yet, his words make me inwardly cringe. How surprised will he be when he finds out my biggest secrets?

I swallow, needing to distract myself. I don’t want to think about that. Not right now. Not with Roman stroking himself and my body exposed to him.

“Roman, you’re driving me crazy. I need…”

“What, pet? What do you need? Do you need to be fucked?”

“Yes! God, yes.”

“You need me to pound that pussy, sweetheart?”

“Please, Roman, stop teasing me,” I whimper. I start to slide off the sofa. I don’t care if I have to crawl to him. At this point, I’d do anything—I’m that close to the edge.

“Don’t move, Ana. Stay where you’re at.”

My body feels as if it weighs a thousand pounds as I brace myself on the back of the sofa again. I know Roman by now. If I disobey him, he’ll torture me for hours.

“How long do I have to sit like this?” I ask him, letting my eyes go back to watching his hand move slowly back and forth on his cock.

“Until I get tired of looking at what’s mine,” he says simply. A statement of fact. For some reason, that makes me more excited than watching him. That makes everything in me feel like one touch from him would make me detonate into another stratosphere.

His. A simple truth.

“Roman,” I whisper, unable to drag my eyes away from his cock.

“You’re so beautiful, pet. So fucking beautiful.”

I can’t hold back anymore. Despite his command for the opposite, I slide off the couch and onto the floor. I crawl to him like a tiger stalking her prey. His hand stalls on his cock and I know I’ve surprised him.

“Ana,” he starts, but his voice is gruff. My tongue comes out to lick along my lips as I watch the head of his cock and the way his pre-cum drizzles down the shaft. When I reach him, I put my hands on his knees and slide my body between his legs.

“Let me suck you,” I beg, dying to just dive in and do that. I’m already going against his orders though and I want Roman to need this as much as I need to give it to him.

“Pet, always pushing me. What am I going to do with you?” he asks.

Unable to resist, I flatten my tongue against the base of his cock and lick up the throbbing vein that runs the length of his shaft, gathering his pre-cum on my tongue as I go.

“Fuck.”

The need in his voice gets to me more than anything. Roman is so controlled and intense, I love pushing him and making him let go of that. I suck just the head of his cock into my mouth, humming against it, as my tongue dives in to seek more of him, needing more of his taste. His fingers tangle into my hair and I take that as approval, whether it is or not. I widen my mouth and hollow out my jaws and slowly sink down on the length of him. I don’t stop until he’s at the back of my throat. My hand comes up to roll his balls, kneading them. They’re hard and firm and so fucking warm. Slowly, I back off his cock, keeping my lips locked tight around it so that when I release him completely, the wet popping noise echoes. His entire cock glistens now with a combination of my mouth and his own juices. I lock eyes with him, licking my lips and breathing hard, not trying to hide how excited and turned-on I am. I want him to see it.

“I love the way you feel in my mouth, Roman. I love to feel your hands tighten in my hair as you demand I take you all the way back.”

“Pet…”

“Fuck my mouth, Roman. I don’t want gentle. I need you to take charge,” I tell him.

His fingers tighten in my hair, flexing back and forth as he watches me. “You’re tempting the beast, Ana.”

“Good,” I say simply, lowering my head down. I slide his cock back into my mouth and Roman’s fingers tighten in my hair, knotting in it. I slide down his shaft slowly, my pussy clenching, my breasts tingling, the nipples tightening with need. I feel electrically charged and so fucking turned on I might die if I don’t have him. Roman reaches down, his fingers dancing across the soft skin of my breast. He kneads the skin, causing me to moan, the sound muffled and needy, barely coming out around the mouthful of cock that I’m sucking on. Roman’s hand leaves my breast, traveling down my stomach and stopping at my pussy. His hand moves between my legs. Maybe I should be embarrassed by how wet I am, but I’m not. I like that he can feel how wet he makes me, how much this excites me. I lean towards him, up on my knees, trying to tempt him into moving his fingers deeper inside of me.

“You’re so fucking wet, Ana. Do you want my cum, pet?”

I can’t really answer him with words because my mouth is so full of his dick, but maybe he can tell by the way my desire pools around his fingers right before he thrusts them deep inside of me. He growls his approval right before he takes complete control. His hand pushes my head up and down on his cock, fucking my face hard and fast. He curls his fingers in me, hitting that mysterious spot that men before him have never even gotten close to. My orgasm pushes through me, my hand holding his balls and manipulating them as he uses me. I can feel them tighten beneath my fingers. I know he’s close as I fight my gag reflex to give him anything he wants.

He pulls me off of him and I cry out at the unfairness of it. I earned his cum. It should be mine. Before I can argue, the first spray jets across my face, splashing on my lips. His hand holds my head in place as he jacks his cock, aiming for my face and shooting stream after stream on me until it’s dripping down my neck, running between my breasts, and sliding down my throat.

I’m covered in… him.

“I thought you were taking the week off,” Ana questions, pouting.

It should annoy me, but it does the opposite. I’m glad she doesn’t want me to leave. I can’t tell her why I’m leaving, even if I think this will help her brother, and though I’m doing it for her, I doubt she will understand. I don’t have a lot of experience with worrying about how a woman reacts. I’ve never given a fuck. I have a suspicion that Ana would not be pleased with my plan, however. I lock my hand on the side of her neck and pull her face to mine. She stretches up off the mattress to meet my kiss. Just the touch of her lips soothes me.

“You’ll barely notice I’m gone, pet. I’ll be back by evening.”

“Trust me, I’ll know. Plus, you’re leaving me here with Broom Hilda, the wicked witch of the…”

“I thought she was treating you better?” I ask, immediately pissed off. I warned Mayra to treat Ana with respect. Ana is a permanent fixture in my life. I’m not letting her go. I will, however, fire the maid. Easily.

“She is, around you. She waits to show me her distaste and hate when you’re in another room.”

“That’s unacceptable. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Really, Roman. It’s not a big deal,” Ana says.

“It is. I told you to fire her if she kept disrespecting you,” I complain, upset this has been going on without my notice.

“She’s been better. I’m rarely alone with her. Besides, it doesn’t matter. I’ll deal with her. It won’t be long until…” she trails off as her face heats up.

I think about what she said, and any way I choose to finish her sentence displeases me.

“Until what, Ana?” I growl this time, my voice dark.

“Roman, let’s not get into this right now. You’ll be late,” Ana says, refusing to meet my eyes.

She’s right, I will be. I don’t give a fuck. Something about hearing the woman you are obsessed with talk as if your time with her is limited has a strange effect on a man.

“Ana, we’ve gone over this shit. Do you not get that I’m not letting you go?”

“Roman…” she trails off for a second, her eyes looking down at her hands instead of me.

“Ana. Eyes, now,” I order, and her face snaps up and her eyes sparkle with displeasure, but fuck that, she needs to understand this. “You are going nowhere.”

At my words, some of the anger leaves her, but there’s another look on her face now, one I’m not sure how I feel about. It almost looks like hopelessness.

“Let’s just take it one day at a time, Roman. If I’m still around in a month, I’ll handle her…”

“Mayra!” I yell, my voice loud enough to shake the rafters in the ceiling. I’ve had enough of this shit. Ana must know because she pulls away, jumping at my tone. She pulls the sheet tight around her body and now there’s fear in her eyes. My dick pushes against my jeans because caring for Ana or not, I’m still a bastard. The sight of her fear makes me want to control and conquer her that much more.

“Mr. Anthes?” Mayra says from the door. I turn to watch her freeze as her eyes go to Ana lying in my bed. Her dislike shows on her face clearly before she hides it and raises her eyes to mine.

“I told you, if you didn’t respect my woman, you were finished. Apparently you didn’t take that to heart.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Anthes.”

“Ana says you’ve been disrespecting her in private.”

“Roman,” Ana starts, but I ignore her. The controlled mask on Mayra’s face slips somewhat.

“I’ve been doing my job, Mr. Anthes. I don’t have time to cater to the whims of some—”

“My woman. That’s who she is, Mayra. She’s mine. She’s staying. I will have my ring on her hand and my child in her belly. She will be around for a long fucking time. A lot longer than you will.”

“Roman,” Ana gasps.

“Mr. Anthes,” Mayra starts. I ignore them both and instead pull off my jacket.

“Pack your things, Mayra. I want you out of this house in thirty minutes. Robert will drive you back into town. I’ll mail your severance pay. I’ll be generous though; it’s more than you deserve.”

“You can’t be serious!” Mayra protests, her face now full of hate, but now it’s not all directed at Ana.

“Deadly, and now you have three less minutes to pack than you did before.”

“Bastard!” Mayra spits at me. I grin. She looks at me, and then back at Ana. “You’ll regret it,” she snarls and then stomps out. I grab my phone and call the security detail that is on duty in the guardhouse by the gate to my estate.

“I’ve just released Mayra Baxter from employ. She has thirty minutes to leave. Have Robert waiting on her and a man on her as she walks from the house to the limo please.”

“Got it sir,” I hear right before I hang up. Ana is sitting up in bed, her face full of shock.

“Roman, I don’t think… I mean… Why would you… What are you doing?” she stutters before finally getting the only question that matters out.

“I can’t leave until Mayra is gone,” I tell her, unbuttoning my shirt. Ana’s eye watch my every movement.

“About that, there’s still time. Maybe you could talk to her and get her… Roman! What are you doing?” she asks again, her back going straight as I unzip my pants.

“You have thirty minutes to make me forget.”

“Make you forget what?” she asks as I kick off my shoes and discard the rest of my clothes. When I’m completely naked, I walk to the other side of the bed. My dick is hard and leaning towards her. Bastard knows what he wants.

“That you thought for one minute you were leaving me,” I tell her.

“Roman.”

“Shut it, Ana,” I tell her. I palm my dick, stroking it once, slow and hard. I pull her on the bed by her leg until she’s lying crosswise. She doesn’t fight me; I think she’s still in a sort of shock. “Spread your legs wide, Ana.” I order.

She hesitates for just a second, and then slowly opens her legs wide, bracing her feet on the mattress. Her pussy is glistening. Perfect. I line up with her entrance and slam home, not even bothering with gentle. I don’t have that in me right now.

“Mine!” I growl like a fucking caveman. Ana’s arms go around me, her nails biting into my back as she stretches to find my ear so I can hear her moan of approval—and then her whisper.

“Yours, Roman. I’m yours,” she reassures me. The words calm the beast inside of me. For now.

I watch from the window in the study while the lights of the limousine disappear. Watching him leave fills me with a feeling of doom. Is today the beginning of the end? He said he had to go to work, not to visit my brother, but would he tell me if he was? He promised he was just going to help him get completely sober and then he would let him go. What Allen did from there on out would be up to him.

But Roman probably won’t get that chance.

I’m sure Paul is working overtime on ways to set Roman up, especially since I have been MIA and ignoring his phone calls. Just the thought of that man and what he could be up to causes fear to fill me. I turn cold, fine sweat breaking out over my body. I’ve begged Roman to be careful and warned him that Paul will be looking to bring him down. I’ve even taken to searching the house and the limo, just in case whoever else Paul has on the inside might try to plant what I wouldn’t. I’ve not found evidence of anything going on, but that doesn’t do a lot to make me feel better. I wrap my arms around myself, my thoughts somehow chilling the whole room, unease filling me. I need to do something.

“Do you need anything, Ms. Stevens?” One of the security guys that Roman has on staff asks me. I forget his name, but then there are so many people working for Roman, there’s no way to keep them all straight.

“I’m fine. Thanks. I was just about to lie down. I seemed to have developed a headache,” I lie.

“Fine. If you need anything, you can hit the number zero on the phone. That will call security.”

“Thank you,” I tell him, watching as he leaves the room.

Once he does, I count to ten. Then I worry that’s not enough and count to ten again. Panic fills me and I worry it’s still not enough. By the time I’ve counted enough times to hit fifty, I figure I need to quit stalling. I move over to the fake ferns that are in the entry way planter along with multicolored flowers. They were so lifelike, I thought they were real—until I touched them. I guess when you have enough money, even fake flowers can look better than real ones. It takes me a little bit of digging because I buried the phone well, not wanting anyone to find it. Once I wrap my hand around it, I breathe a little easier. I get it and then start looking towards the back of the planter for the battery. It takes a few minutes to find it and then I walk to the sofa and sit down with the newly assembled phone. I stare at it a minute before turning it on. Then I dial Paul’s number and wait. It doesn’t take long—two rings.

“About fucking time. What the fuck are you doing at Anthe’s house? You know what the fucking plan is.”

“How did you know where I was?”

“Don’t be completely stupid, Ana. Did you carry out your orders?”

“No, Paul. I need to talk to you. I think—” I would argue more, but the phone goes dead. That’s when the fear really hits. I swallow against the bile rising in my throat. It’s time for me to either come clean with my superiors and hope they are more trustworthy than Paul, or come clean with Roman. Either choice is bad. There’s no guarantee that my captain will even listen, and given the choice, I know the majority of the team members will back Paul over Roman, who they view as scum. To them, they’d just be getting another perp off the streets. Telling Roman means warning him and betraying my badge—and it also means admitting to Roman that I’ve been lying to him since day one.

Damned if I do, damned if I don’t. Either choice is going to be hell.

The house phone rings and I jump. I shut my phone back down. I don’t take the battery out of it again, however. There’s no point. Paul knows where I’m at, and it’s clear he’s not about to try and contact me now. I reach over and grab the telephone and, reading Roman’s cell number on the caller I.D., I go ahead and answer it.

“Hey,” I whisper, hoping he can’t hear the worry and panic in my voice.

“Pet, there’s a business dinner tonight. I’ve tried to get out of it, but there’s no way. It begins at seven.”

“Oh, okay,” I tell him, a little disappointed. “What time will you be home?”

“Be home? Ana, you will be going to the dinner with me. There’s a blue dress in your closet that I picked out personally. Put it on, and wear your hair down—I don’t like it when you wear it up. I’ll talk to you later.”

He hangs up just like that, and I stare at the phone wondering what the hell just happened. My worry over everything going on with Paul and Roman takes a back seat as I replay the conversation in which Roman doesn’t ask if I want to go to a dinner; he just demands it, then instructs me on what to wear and how to fix my hair. Anger takes the place of worry. The asshole just expects me to fall in line like everyone else in his life. I decide to concentrate on him being an asshole and not on the impending doom that’s breathing down my neck. I’ll make up my mind on whether I should come clean with Roman or the detective in charge of the investigation tomorrow.

Tonight, I have a lesson to teach Roman Anthes.

“Who the fuck is this?”

I watch as Ana’s brother looks at the fucker that Bruno just threw down at the man’s feet. The bastard in question is hogtied. He couldn’t move if he wanted to. Marcum really is a master when it comes to ropes. He’s got a gag in his mouth and the bruises on his naked body and face tell me that this was a job that Marcum enjoyed.

“He doesn’t look familiar?” I ask Ana’s brother.

You can see the exact moment recognition hits him. Allen’s body literally shakes with it. Then he goes pale, so motherfucking pale I’m starting to think the son of a bitch is going to pass out in front of me. Slowly, I see the heat of anger replace every other emotion.

“Ana fucking told you?” he screams. “That fucking cunt had no right! Get him out of here, you all fucking need to just get out of here. Kill me already! Stop torturing me! Who the fuck do you think you are? I can’t…”

I stop his tirade by grabbing him by the neck and slamming him hard against the wall. I squeeze his neck so tight, his face begins to turn blue. His hands don’t even come up to defend himself. Then I look into eyes, eyes so much like Ana’s that it’s unreal. Except these eyes are full of an emotion I never want to see in Ana’s: misery. The son of a bitch truly wants to die. It’s time for some hard truths and it seems I’ve been elected to deliver them.

“Not one more fucking word about Ana. The reason you’re alive right now, motherfucker, is because of Ana. The reason I’m giving you even a ghost of a chance is because of Ana. For some fucking reason, she loves you. She believes in you. I’m a selfish asshole, so I have to tell you. If you were anyone besides her brother, her even caring for you would be the end of you. Instead, I’m giving you someone to take your aggression out on. I get you’re fucked up in the head. I had to hear my woman cry. She’s innocent to the slime in this world. She hasn’t been exposed to the shit we have. You and I know how fucking twisted shit is. Ana doesn’t. A frightened girl ran and hid from a bastard not knowing her brother would even be considered a victim. You get that? She didn’t know.” I see the need to argue with me in his eyes. I let off the pressure on his neck slightly—not enough for him to talk and argue, but enough so he can breathe. “What you don’t know is that once she knew, she tried to get the monster’s attention away from you. She tried to sacrifice herself to keep him from going after you again. What you don’t know is that she blames herself every fucking day. So you need to get your head out of your ass. Focus your anger on this bastard until you can start to breathe clear again.”

“What do you know about anything?”

“A fuck of a lot more than I’ll ever tell you.”

I see indecision in Allen. I let Allen stew in everything while I instruct the boys to untie our plaything and chain him up on the wall.

“What’s it matter? I go to jail. I don’t have anything to live for anyways. Just fucking end me and stop torturing me. Word on the street was, you don’t let people breathe air that cross you. Jesus, why are you putting me through this shit?? End me already!” Allen says, screaming his last command, his whole body shaking from the force of it.

That’s when it hits me. Full-on. In the fucking face.

“You picked my club because you had a death wish. That’s why you ignored my warnings. That’s why you kept coming back, even knowing you were getting on the Russian’s radar?”

The kid shrugs, but avoids my eyes. “I figured between you and Kuzma…” he says, but doesn’t finish the thought.

“If you wanted to die so fucking bad, why not just eat a bullet?”

“Because no matter how bad I wanted to end it, I could never pull the fucking trigger! There! Satisfied?”

“What if I told you I had enough power to keep you out of jail?” Allen’s face jerks up to me. Disbelief is clear, but there’s something else.

“Why would you be willing to do that?”

“Because you matter to Ana.” I tell him the truth. I’ve come to the conclusion I’d do anything for Ana. Absolutely anything. Even save her worthless brother. Though, if I want to think about it, I can admit to seeing a little more in him now. Maybe something even worth saving.

“You’re that gone over my sister?” he asks while I take off my jacket and lay it over the top of a chair. Ana is something I’m not discussing with Allen. Something I’m not discussing with any motherfucker. I motion to Bruno and he tosses me the baseball bat I brought earlier.

“You gonna help me end this motherfucker or not?” I ask him, gripping the bat and walking to the son of a bitch who is squirming against the wall, but knows it’s useless.

“Why are you helping?”

“Because he touched Ana. For that alone, he’s not allowed to breathe anymore.”

Allen is silent for a minute, and then I see half a smile on his face. “Yeah, I’m going to help. You first, though, because I want to finish him.”

I can’t argue; given Allen’s history, I’d demand that too.

“Batter up, then,” I tell him, right before my bat drums into the side of our prey’s head. I have to remind myself to pull my swings so Allen has something left to play with.

“You’re home late. I thought we had to be at the dinner by now?" I ask Roman when he walks through the door. He stops to look at me and it takes years of training to keep from squirming. I know he’s taking in my outfit and hair. I’m wearing dress pants, black, with a white lace and silk top. It shows nothing, not even cleavage. My hair, I’ve twisted and secured at my nape, and though I know I look good, I look nothing like Roman instructed. I wait to see if he says anything. I’m almost disappointed when he doesn’t. “We’re going to be late,” I add, waiting for the explosion.

“I’ll shower and be out in twenty,” he says, which is damn anticlimactic. I’ve been keyed up for an hour wondering what he would say or do. I almost talked myself out of my rebellion two or three times. Now it seems I worried over nothing. I follow him to the bedroom and pick up his discarded trail of clothes.

I notice there’s a stain on his shirt just as he heads to the shower. “Roman? Did you cut yourself? There’s blood on your shirt.”

“It’s not mine,” he says ominously over the roaring water in the shower. I decide to let it go and not think about it. Lord knows I have enough on my plate.

True to his word, Roman is out of the shower and in the limousine headed to the dinner in thirty minutes. Yet the ride over is really quiet. He’s said very little and I’m picking up a weird vibe from him. Even worse, he’s not given me so much as a simple kiss on the cheek since he got back, and that’s very different from the way he usually is with me.

“Is everything okay, Roman?” I ask when I can’t stand the silence any longer. We’ve been at the party for an hour. I’ve been introduced, inspected, and dissected since we got here. The men have leered and the women have been trying to kill me with looks. I’m a nervous wreck and I just want out of here. The fact that Roman has kept a hand on me the entire time, either by putting his arm around me or keeping one at the small of my back, is the only reason I haven’t run away. All this, however, and he’s still barely said more than four complete sentences to me. He leads me over to the corner of the ballroom we’re in. We’re the only couple in here and I find I can breathe easy for the first time since we got in the damn vehicle to get here.

“What could be wrong, pet?”

“You’re quiet,” I tell him as he pulls us to the corner and leans against it as if he owns the place. Hell, maybe he does. “Roman, maybe we should go home. You don’t seem to be in the mood to be here, and I…”

“Stand in front of me, Ana, with your back to the others,” he orders, interrupting me.

“What?”

“You heard me. Do it, Ana.”

“What are you doing?” I ask, when he roughly pulls me so I’m standing between his legs.

“That’s easy, pet. I’m going to play with my favorite toy,” he tells me, his hand going to undo the button on my slacks.

“Roman, we’re in the middle of a business party. They’ll see!”

“Not if you’re careful. Now, if you draw attention to us… probably.”

“We can’t do this,” I tell him, even as my breathing speeds up and I look forward to his touch.

“It is happening. I think you forgot who has control,” he whispers into my ear, and chills run down my body as my heart speeds up. I should hate him when he talks like that. I should hate that he treats me as if I am his property. It shouldn’t excite me the way it does. My body shouldn’t betray me and become aroused until the point of pain, needing what only Roman can give me.

“I didn’t forget. You would never let me forget,” I tell him, and even to my ears, I sound like a petulant child.

“Interesting, because I could have sworn I told you to wear a particular dress tonight, and yet here you are in pants.”

“The dress was too revealing. It showed everything I had.”

“That’s the problem. It’s mine to reveal. Mine to control and mine to reward. I wanted every man in here to envy what is mine. To look, knowing they could never touch. I like it, Ana. I like knowing the sad fucks are home jacking off by their on hand and hating it because I have what they really want. I’m the one sunk balls-deep inside of her, making her scream. You took that away from me, pet. Now you have to pay the consequences.”

“Roman…” I gasp his name as his hand slides into my loosened pants and cups my pussy, squeezing it.

“So warm and hot. This is my pussy now, Ana. Mine. It craves what I can give it,” he growls in my ear as his fingers dive inside of me without warning. Jesus. How many did he thrust inside of me? More than one. Three, maybe? I can’t be sure. The one thing I do know is that he’s right. My pussy is so wet that it made his fingers thrust inside my channel easily. With each glide, and the teasing of his thumb against my clit, my desire increases, making me crave his cock. He’s right. My body is his to control and it does need him. I hate myself because he has that control over me. I hate him because it’s only my body he wants, not me… not my heart.

“One thing I should tell you, pet.”

“What?” I ask and it sounds more like a moan.

“I’m going to finger-fuck you, just like this, for ten more minutes. The only catch is, you can’t come until I tell you.”

“Roman, I…”

“If you come, that would be bad. You didn’t want to wear the dress I chose? If you come without permission, I won’t care that everyone in here will see you. I’ll strip you naked, bend you over this chair and fuck you until you tell everyone who you belong to.” His words make my body shake and my orgasm build. My eyes close and I can picture him doing exactly that. Exactly.

Oh, God.

Ana trembles in my arms. I was pissed at her for defying me, but I have to admit, I love when she shows fire. Fuck, I love teaching her lessons, and this one might be the most enjoyable yet. Three fingers sink into that tight pussy. She’s so fucking tight that even though she’s drenched, it’s hard to stretch her enough to get them inside of her. The scent of her arousal blooms around us as my thumb makes tiny circles against her throbbing clit. I push into it, holding it. It pulsates against my thumb the same way her walls are massaging against my fingers. It’d take so little to set her off. It makes me think my little Ana is an exhibitionist at heart.

“My pet is so greedy for my fingers. Does it turn you on, knowing I’m fucking you with a hundred people watching us? They’re all wondering exactly what I’m doing to you, Ana.”

“Jesus, Roman,” she whispers, her hands biting into my shoulders as she tries to brace herself to keep from falling.

“Maybe we should show them. Would you like that, pet? Do you want me to get on my knees and eat out your juicy little cunt while they’re all standing back there? Every man in here wants to be able to do that right now. They want between your legs. They want to bury their head so deep into your pussy and eat out this little cunt until your juice runs down their face and they drown in it while you ride them.”

“Oh, fuck. Roman… I need…”

“I know what you need. You need me to…”

“Come. Oh, God. Baby, I need to come,” she whimpers, her voice hoarse and raw. Her nails are biting into my skin. I can feel the muscles of her legs clench as her pussy presses down on my hand, trying to suck it further in and ride the hell out of it. She’s already thrusting in rhythm with my hand, forgetting she has an audience. I spin her around, pinning her up against the wall, my body shielding her. I slow down my strokes, now. Letting my fingers glide in and out of her soaked little cunt, but going slow and methodical. It’s not easy. That fucking pussy of hers is so hungry it clings to my fingers, grinding down on me every time they push into her.

“Roman, please stop torturing me,” she whimpers.

In response, I bite into the side of her neck, giving her a sting of pain. I can feel her pussy quivering against my hand as even more moisture floods onto my fingers. I know that in one more thrust, one more bite, she’s mine. She’ll come so hard, she’ll scream my name, not caring who can hear her. I’m a bastard enough to want that and I’d give it to her.

One thing holds me back. She disobeyed me. With that in mind, I stop completely. I pull my hand out from her warm depths with regret. I step back so she can watch me as I suck her sweet juice from my fingers. Fuck. Nothing in the world tastes like my Ana.

“Roman?” Her voice is confused and full of need.

I button her pants, leaning in at her ear so that only she can hear me. Fuckers are already trying to get closer to us, to get in on the show. “You don’t get to come, pet. Maybe after we get home and you suck my cock and beg, maybe then. But if you want to defy me when I ask you for something, then that means you still need to learn who is in charge of your body.” I pull away at her gasp, my hand going to her back to steer her back toward the crowd. She walks a step or two but resists me after a minute.

“But, Roman…”

“And Ana, if you even think of going to the restroom and making that sweet little pussy come, you won’t sit still for a fucking week. Are we clear?”

Her eyes go round, her hand coming up to rub nervously against her throat. She nods her head once, watching me the entire time.

We’re clear.

With every mile that brings us closer to downtown Miami, my heart hurts. The ride has been quiet, each of us in our own thoughts. We came home from the party last night and I thought everything was great. Roman pushed me up against the wall and buried his face between my legs, making me come twice before making slow love to me on the floor in front of the fireplace. We’ve made love a lot of ways, but none have been as sweet and slow as last night’s had been.

I came so close to telling him I loved him. What would his reaction have been? The unknown of how he would react when he found out all my secrets was the only thing that held me back.

I was on the verge of my confession when we got the call. Someone had killed Big Joe. His body was thrown out in front of Roman’s expensive club. His men called him the moment the body was discovered. I’m still in shock. I loved Big Joe. He was a mountain of a man with a soft side that he showed the women he protected. Roman held me while I cried, but since the call, I’ve seen the change in him. He’s a man bent on revenge now. Completely business and cold in his demeanor. I understand it, even though I wish he could come back to me and be the man who made me feel alive last night.

“Did Joe have family?” I wonder aloud, not really asking Roman. I suppose I’m not even fully aware that I asked the question out loud. I just keep thinking what a shame it is that this world is robbed of such a good person.

“No one.”

“That’s sad. No one behind to mourn your passing,” I whisper. Roman doesn’t respond. I didn’t really expect him to. “Where are we going?”

“I’m going to drop you off at the apartment and then I have to go to the morgue to identify the body.”

“I could go with you, Roman,” I tell him, not wanting him to be without me—in the city, especially, as I’m more aware that Paul could try to set Roman up at any moment.

“No, Ana. I don’t want you around any of this. I’ll get it handled and check on your brother and then meet you back at the apartment.”

“Maybe I should see my brother?” I suggest, not completely sure I want to at this point.

“He’s getting better, Ana, but I don’t want him around you. Not yet.”

“Roman, you can’t protect me from the world,” I complain as we pull into the parking garage of Roman’s apartment complex.

“I can try,” he says with a ghost of a smile.

His face looks so tired. My hand reaches up to brush away the wrinkles that are gathered around his eyes. “I love you, Roman.”  My heart pounds in my chest. I didn’t mean to say the words. They slipped out and now they’re just hanging between us. I can’t call them back and I can’t make them unheard.

“Ana,” he says, and I can read the regret there. You don’t have to be a detective or a beat cop to see the writing on the wall.

“Shh… I didn’t tell you because I expected anything back. I just wanted you to know.” I’m half lying. I didn’t tell him on purpose, but still it would have been nice to hear something back. Instead, I get a Roman who looks uncomfortable, a Roman who is rubbing the tension out of the back of his neck—tension my big mouth probably put there. The car comes to a stop and I turn the handle quickly, intent on getting out. Roman’s hand on my arm stops me.

“We’ll talk tonight, pet. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Okay.” I plaster a fake smile on my face. He holds my neck again and brings my lips to him. He gives me a sweet kiss, brief, but his tongue slides into my mouth, slow and seductive. “Be safe,” I tell him before sliding out. One of his security guys is already waiting for me at the door. I need to get my head out of my ass and start figuring out what on earth I’m doing here. The only thing that is clear is that I’ve gone too far with Roman to ever find my way back to being the Ana I was before I went undercover, which means I need to try and protect Roman and get out from under Paul completely. I need to concentrate on that plan right now. Honestly, if I concentrated on the fact that I just told Roman I loved him and he didn’t even bother to hide the look of surprise and regret in his face, I’d fall to my knees and cry. I can’t do that. This seems like the safest option.

I walk into the apartment as if I’m on autopilot, and maybe I am, because I can’t even remember the ride up in the elevator. I go straight to the bedroom and pull out my cellphone.

The asshole barely answers before I interrupt him. “Paul. We need to talk. I’ve decided to do what you want.”

“What if I said I don’t need you now?” he asks, and the implications of that scare the hell out of me.

“What if I told you I could deliver more than just what you asked? We need to meet.” I’m bluffing my ass off here, but I don’t have a fucking choice.

“Coffee shop on the corner. There’s a small room off from the bathrooms. It will be unlocked. You have fifteen minutes and you better not be wasting my time, Ana.”

“I’ll be there.” I tell him, closing my eyes and reminding myself that I don’t have a choice.

I know who is behind Joe’s murder. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist. My mind is trying to stay on course, but hearing Ana tell me she loves me… Fuck.

I know how women get. She expects me to say that shit back. That’s impossible. I don’t believe in fucking love. Never had it in my life and I’ve seen enough of human nature to know that fucking shit doesn’t exist. Nothing overrules human nature. When things get right down to it, survival is what matters most to people. No amount of feelings can outweigh that. Anything that says that it does is just some bastardized publicity. That’s it.

All that said, I will admit to a perverse thrill at Ana’s words. If I can nurture that and keep her trapped by my side, that’s all I need. I’ll make sure she never wants for a motherfucking thing. Keep her happy enough that she never questions about what else is out there.

As she disappears into the elevator with a security detail, I pick up the phone. I need to switch gears to business. I will have to plan shit out with Ana later.

My first move is to call Marcum to let him know what’s going on.

“Hello?” A woman answers the phone. It’s surprising because, as much as Marcum fucks around with chicks, not a damn one of them would ever answer this number.

“I’m looking for Marcum. Who is this?”

“This is his daughter-in-law, Tess. Marcum was in an accident.”

“An accident?” I ask, instantly alert.

“Yeah, it was touch-and-go for a little while, but he’ll be okay.”

“What happened?”

“Can I ask who’s calling?” she asks, instead of answering.

“Tell your father-in-law that his old friend from the neighborhood called and I’ll be in touch,” I tell her, hanging up. Marcum will understand who it is and I sure as fuck don’t need to leave my name unless my job is the reason the son of a bitch ended up in the shape he’s in.

Looks like I am going to have to handle Banks through a different manner. Kuzma, maybe, though I hesitate to go that route. I’m not going into business with the son of a bitch now, and owing him anything might not be an ideal situation. I need to think on this shit because if what happened with Joe is what I think, then I’ll be seeing Banks soon.

Very fucking soon.

“You’ve got five minutes, Ana. Make it good,” Paul barks, dragging me into the small room where I was to meet him.

I’m calling on every technique I ever learned to still my nerves and get through this meeting. I’m trained in meeting with the enemy and becoming part of their crowd. I just never imagined that the enemy would be the so-called good guys. Looking at Paul now—his black hair peppered around the edges, his face a mixture of worry and hatred, bags under his eyes, his jawline sallow and bloated, his stomach being more of a beer belly than the fit detective from my childhood—I wonder how I missed the signs. Dirty cop. I’ve heard the talk about them as I went through the academy; it hurts that the first one I encounter would be a man I looked up to.

“I still have the coke.”

“So?”

“I know you asked me to plant it, but I have something better… something bigger.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Ana?”

“I know where he’s holding Allen. I can get him to take me there next week. You can follow us and bust him for kidnapping, attempted murder, and…”

“Why next week? If you had done what I asked you to do the first time, this would have been done.”

“Okay, Paul. I’m going to level with you. You were right. I was losing my focus. I was falling under Roman’s spell. But then I saw my brother. He’s keeping him caged like a damn animal. He said he was going to kill him unless I did whatever he asked. That’s the only reason I went to his house with him. That’s the only reason I couldn’t talk to you. He’s had me monitored night and day. I had to sneak out to even make it here today. I didn’t have a choice.”

“So you want me to twiddle my thumbs for a week while you maneuver Anthes into your trap?”

“It could work, Paul, and it would be so much more substantial than planting the coke on him, like your original plan.”

“You know, Ana, I have to wonder why you keep mentioning my original plan. Actually, I’m wondering why you agreed to meet me at all after ignoring me for so long.”

“I told you…”

“That you did, but I’m finding I don’t really believe you.”

“Paul…” My heart is beating erratically. It only increases when Paul reaches out and grabs my shirt. A man steps out of a dark corner of the room and I back away. I haven’t seen this guy before and the look on his face is enough to scare me. “What’s going on here?” I ask, proud when I don’t sound like a scared little girl. I can’t give Paul that satisfaction.

Paul reaches out and grabs me roughly by the arm, holding me even while I fight him. I’m trying to remember my combat training, but the defensive course which I should know and be able to do by pure instinct has somehow left me. I kick out, intent on gaining control of this situation again. That’s when Paul’s friend grabs me, bending my arms behind my back.

“I am having trouble trusting you, Ana. I think I’m going to have to test you.”

“Test me?” I ask, trying to no avail to get free of the man’s hold. Paul pulls out a large hunting knife and my blood runs cold. I’m so stupid. Why didn’t I come more prepared? What on Earth was I thinking?

“Yeah, Ana. I’ve been at this a long time. I see the signs,” he says, moving the side of the blade against my neck.

“Paul, you don’t have to do this,” I tell him, wishing I could get away from the man holding me prisoner. I’m afraid to move too much. The knife travels lower. I can feel the point of the blade now and it’s making a path down my neck. He pushes in slightly. I feel a sting and then warm liquid. The bastard drew blood. The sick sadistic smile on his face tells me he not only drew blood—he is enjoying it.

“Oh, but I’m afraid I do,” he tells me, and then all at once, he hooks my shirt into the blade of his knife and begins cutting. The fabric of my shirt slices in half, exposing my bra. Paul doesn’t stop his knife until he cuts the bra in the same fashion, exposing my breasts. His hand comes up to cup them and I fight against my hold to try and get away. “Well, look at that. I guess you don’t have a wire,” he sneers, his cold fingers moving over my nipple. I’m seconds away from vomiting.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I whisper, wrapping my hands around my breast when the guy behind me finally lets me go.

“I’m afraid I did. Cheer up, Ana. It’s not like I’m the only guy to have touched those fucking tits.”

“What turned you into this… man?” I ask him, forcing myself to use that word because I want to call him a pig—or much, much worse.

“Just make sure you have Roman where you need him. Where is this fucking place anyway?”

“Now I think I’ll take a page out of your playbook. I’ll tell you when it’s time. I don’t want to risk you doing it before I can be there and make sure my brother survives the fight.”

Paul looks me over grudgingly. “Look at that. I might make a cop out of you yet. I want my coke back since you can’t manage to plant the shit.”

“It’s in the old apartment,” I tell him, then mention where he can find it.

I don’t breathe until they leave. Then I sink to the floor and let the tears fall. When this is all over, if I manage to survive, I’m going to kill Paul. I don’t for one second think it will make me feel better, but if ever a man deserved to die, it is him. How I went for so long without seeing the monster beneath amazes me. I’ve seen it now, however, and I will put a bullet into him without blinking.

It takes me another ten minutes before I can finally pull myself together. I look around the small room. There’s a few t-shirts with the place’s name emblazoned on them. I yank off my ruined clothes, throw them in the trash, then pull a t-shirt on, wondering if I’ll get arrested for theft before I can get out of this fucking place. That would cap off a perfect day.

Something is going on with Ana. I’m not sure what it is, but for the last three days, she’s withdrawn and seems to be somewhere else. The only time I feel she’s even halfway with me is when we’re fucking. I’ll have to figure it out, but I can’t right now. There’s too much shit going down. Like today.

We’re standing by the grave of one of the few men I considered a friend, listening to some preacher go on about finding a better life in another world. It sounds lame to my ears. The world is a cold, dark place, and having Joe gone just makes it more so. The only warmth in my life is the woman standing beside me right now, crying. I wrap my arm around her, pulling her into me. She buries her face in my chest and I kiss the top of her head, wishing I could take away her pain—fuck, wishing I could take my own. It’s my fault Joe is being buried. He was killed to send me a message, a message I received loud and clear, and one I’m going to deliver twofold on that sorry fuck, Paul Banks.

I have a meeting with Kuzma tonight. I hesitated to go this route, but the old adage “go big or go home” seemed apt. I’m going to make Banks sorry he was ever born. Big Joe deserves that.

The graveside service ends. Ana and I each place a rose on top of the coffin and start walking back to the limo. Robert is standing by the vehicle waiting, and I have two of my best security detail walking behind me. I can’t take a chance with Ana’s safety. We’re almost to the car when Banks and four others get out of a white sedan across from my limo. Ana goes rigid in my arms, and with good reason. I can tell Banks is up to no good, and dealing with him is the last fucking thing I want to do.

“Banks. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Can’t a man pay his respects?” he asks with a cocky look on his sullen face. I clench my hand into a fist and it takes all I have not to level him. The bastard is baiting me. I can see it, and I keep my face unreadable.

“A man probably could. Still doesn’t explain why you’re here,” I tell him, the barb subtle but pretty fucking clear. I know he understands, it shows in his face.

“You think you’re smart, don’t you, Anthes? I think it might be time to bring you down a peg or two.”

“You can try,” I tell him, growing bored with the game. “Ana, go wait for me in the car,” I tell her, motioning for one of the security members to follow her.

“Roman, I don’t think that would be a good idea. Maybe…” Ana starts.

Before I can respond, Banks joins in. “Yeah, Roman, I don’t think that’d be a good idea either.”

Banks thrusts a piece of paper at me. I grab it, moving in front of Ana to protect her from the man. It’s an instinctual move; he’ll never get close enough to hurt her.

“What is this?”

“A warrant. We got a tip you’re carrying drugs in your car.”

“That’s ridiculous, Banks,” I tell him, shaking my head and pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration. I need to call my attorney to handle this. I don’t have time for this shit.

“Maybe, but we’re going to need to check your limo out, just in case. Just doing our job, you understand,” he says with a self-satisfied grin on his face.

The men behind him are already moving to the car. Something about the whole situation stinks, and I’m not just talking about the way Banks looks entirely too confident. Instantly, that gut instinct I have comes alive. I look at Bruno behind me. I don’t have to give him the words; he knows what I want. He nods and I know he’ll have a call through to my attorney in seconds if this all goes south, which I’m pretty sure it will. As if on cue, one of the men with Banks speaks up.

“Detective, we found something,” they shout.

My eyes go in that direction as the man in question pulls out a couple kilos of wrapped and tightly-packed blow, as well as two guns. There’s also a closed briefcase. I’ve never seen the shit before, but that doesn’t surprise me in the least.

“Roman,” Ana cries, her nails biting into my arm.

“Ana, my attorney will have this sorted out in no time. You go with Bruno and…”

“That won’t be necessary. Ana is going nowhere,” Paul says, his face telling me he think he has completely control. He better savor this victory; it will be his last, and it will be nowhere near as monumental as he thinks.

“You have no control over me. That’s my car, and Ana has nothing to do with this,” I growl, more irritated than anything. I don’t want this shit touching Ana.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Anthes. Ana here is key in all of it.”

Something in the way Paul says her name and the wait Ana pulls away from me, stiffening, alerts me to a shift in the game. I look down as Ana steps away. There’s tears in her eyes, and she’s ringing her hands.

“Roman, you need to understand…”

“What Ana here is trying to say…” Paul interrupts her, coming to stand by her and pull her into his side. I lash out without hearing the rest of his sentence, intent only on tearing her away from him, all of my calm leaving me—but then again, ever since Ana came into my life, I’ve never been myself.

Two of Paul’s henchmen grab me. I throw them off easily, thinking of only saving Ana. That’s when the Taser gun hits me and I drop to my knees, my body shaking. I fight against its pull, looking up at Banks and plotting his death as electricity runs through my body. Banks throws something on the ground that lands in front of my knees. His men are clicking the handcuffs behind my back, securing me. My eyes are blurry and I try to shake off the effects to focus.

I see Ana’s picture and a badge.

Officer Ana Stevens.

I look back at her and tears are running down her face. She’s wrenched herself away from Banks, but now that is of little comfort. Undercover cop, and probably one of the ones that set this little dog and pony show up. Something inside of me twists and breaks, and I concentrate on the pain. Banks pulls me up and I let him. After the Taser, I can’t seem to fucking get control enough to stop him. Officer Ana Stevens. Fucking traitorous bitch. It would almost be humorous that I’ve been taken in by the woman I had at first planned to use. Funny as hell, if it didn’t hurt.

As he pushes me into the back of a squad car, my eyes catch Ana’s one last time. She’s saying something I can’t hear her through the window, and I don’t want to. I turn away from her.

I’m done.

Shell-shocked. That’s the only way to describe the last month. I had watched as they hauled Roman away. The smug look of satisfaction on Paul’s face as he sneered at me was almost as bad as the betrayal shining in Roman’s.

I love him and he hates me. He has good reason. In all the scenarios where I told Roman who I really was, I never once thought I wouldn’t get the chance to try and explain. Roman won’t see me though. I’ve been trying, and each time he ignores me.

Instead, I’ve spent my time cleaning out my locker at the station and ignoring the snarls and looks of my once fellow cops, wadding up the sticky notices that littered my locker declaring me a snitch and sometimes much worse. I go through meeting after meeting with IAB, turning in every bit of evidence I had gathered against Paul Banks and the three men that worked under him and doing my best to make Roman appear to be a poster child for clean living magazine.

It worked. Roman’s charges were dismissed. I was stripped of my badge and reprimanded, but any charges that might have been filed against me were negated in exchange for helping with IAB’s investigation. I might have not been wearing a wire each time I met with Paul, but I had been using a mini voice recorder in my pocket, catching Paul’s instructions and plans each time. The best evidence came, however, when I informed the detective in charge about a small firebox that Paul kept in his home office. It was a gamble. I remembered it from the times during my training that I would join Paul and several other squad members for a cookout and we planned the best way to set me up to meet Roman. I didn’t realize what a complete moron Paul was until IAB found the trophies Paul kept from every crooked deal he ever made. He was using the proof inside to blackmail members of the squad to do his bidding, but in the end, the proof only helped to arrest him. If karma is real at all, it should lock him up for a long fucking time. His trial is scheduled to begin soon, and I for one can’t wait.

That’s not what tonight is about, however. Tonight is a last ditch effort. I’m at the strip club. I know Roman won’t be here, but he’ll be told I am, especially when I demand to dance. I was never fired, so technically I’m still on staff. It will probably blow up in my face, but maybe Roman will at least come here to talk to me.

Okay, as plans go, it’s shit. I know it. I just know I have to try. I have to. I kept expecting him to reach out to me, especially when he found out that I had cleared his name at the expense of my career. I heard nothing. I thought he would at least talk to me when I showed up at the Stable demanding to see him after Paul was arrested.

I was escorted off the premises. Which leads me to now. I don’t have any hope held out that tonight will end differently than the other numerous times I’ve tried. However, it is my last time to try. If I don’t see Roman tonight, I walk away. It won’t be what I want, but I need to move forward with my life. Besides, I’m getting pissed at him. I know he’s mad and he gets to be angry, but to just refuse to talk to me and walk away as if we were nothing to each other…?

“Ana? What the fuck are you doing here?”

I stop in front of the back dressing rooms, shock flooding through my system. Of all the people I thought would be here tonight, this wasn’t one of them.

“Allen? What—I mean, how… When did this happen?”

“I’m working for Roman a few nights a week. Just to see…”

“See what? Why would he let you work for him? I don’t understand,” I mumble, thoroughly confused. What am I missing here? And why does Allen seem… almost normal? What happened to the angry brother who hated the world? I have so many questions, but before I can ask them, Allen is grabbing my hand.

“You need to get out of here,” he grumbles, his grip firm as he tries to pull me away. I jerk against his hold, easily breaking free.

“I’m not going anywhere. Tonight is my regular night to dance,” I announce. Allen’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head in disbelief. I try to stand tall at my announcement, but avoid looking into Allen’s eyes. The last thing I need is for him to read the panic in them.

“Are you crazy?” Allen cries. “Roman isn’t going to let you dance!”

“Well, he didn’t fire me. Until he does, I’m dancing.”

“Ana, you’re being stupid. If Roman finds out you’re here, he’ll have you escorted out of the club so fast your head will spin. Hell, as mad as he is at you right now, he may have you arrested for trespassing.”

“Then he’ll have to be the one to tell me that himself, won’t he? And when did you become Roman’s right hand man, anyway?”

“I’m trying to change, and Roman’s helping. I’d be glad to talk to you about it. Some other time. Not tonight. There’s shit going on and I need you out of this club.”

“There’s always shit going on. Allen, I can’t leave. I have to talk to Roman,” I finally tell him, desperation and honesty breaking through my stupid plan.

“Ana, he doesn’t want to talk to you right now. You need to give him time. He…”

“He has had time! I at least deserve him telling me that he hates me and never wants to see me again! He owes me that!”

“I don’t owe you anything, Ana.”

I freeze when Roman’s voice interrupts. I turn around slowly to look at the man who has haunted my dreams. He looks as good as he ever did, his suit impeccable, his hair a little longer, but I like it. He has circles under his eyes and a five o’clock shadow that I’ve never seen on him before. It looks good.

“We need to talk, Roman,” I tell him and hope like hell my courage doesn’t disappear.

I hate her. At least that’s what I’ve been trying to tell myself. People don’t lie to me and live. They sure as fuck don’t betray me as deeply as Ana did. I’ve cut her out of my life. I’m done. Those are all things that I’ve repeated to myself over and over the last month. Things that I tried to drum into my head even as I would jack off to the memory of her sweet pussy draining me dry. I thought I had succeeded. I was able to function through the day now instead of wanting to drown myself in booze. The only time I allowed my obsession with her to overtake me was when I was home alone. That had to be progress.

One look at her tonight, and I know I’ve been lying to myself. She’s wearing faded jeans, the fabric worn so much the once dark blue color is practically the color of ice, faded and cold. My fingers itch to hold her ass and see just how soft the cloth would feel. She has on a black t-shirt and it makes her look pale and washed out, but even with that, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.

“We have nothing to say to each other, Ana. You can leave peacefully or I’ll have Bruno escort you.”

“Boss, I can take her home. Ana and I need to talk anyway,” Allen interjects.

Over the past month, Allen has made great strides. I’m even starting to like the kid. I, however, don’t want his interference here.

“You need to go back to work, Allen,” I tell him, not taking my eyes off Ana.

“Ana,” Allen says, and she puts her hand in his and squeezes it. He’s her goddamn brother and that small touch fires jealousy inside of me. I need to get her the fuck out of here before I crumble.

Allen leaves. I never take my eyes away from Ana, and she’s staring right back at me. I can pick up her nervousness, but then again, I’ve always been attuned to Ana and her body. Her body. Jesus, she looks good. Her curves seems fuller, her lips more prominent. What harm would come from just one small sip from them?

“You need to leave,” I order again, my voice gruffer as I fight the hard-on that’s pressing against the zipper of my slacks.

“I don’t want to. I don’t think you want me to either, Roman,” she says, taking a step towards me. It’s all I can do not to back away from her.

“You would be wrong. For some strange reason, I don’t keep women around who think they can play me.”

“I was doing my job,” she says, her face flushed.

“You betrayed me. I don’t give people a second chance to do that, Ana.”

“I need you to give me one,” she says, and her hand reaches out and touches my stomach. I want to groan when electricity charges between us, firing through my blood and making my dick jerk in reaction. People around us have grown quiet. It’s then I remember we’re standing at the dressing rooms of the other girls. I grab her hand on my stomach and practically pull her down the small hall. I don’t stop until we make it into the back room where the private dances are held. This is where the minx tortured me in the beginning; it seems apt that this is where it should end. It’s deserted when we get there, though I know it will be busy in here soon. I lock the door and turn back to Ana. Her breathing is so ragged, it shakes her body, her face even more flushed. Those violet eyes are dilated. I try to swallow down my need.

“Ana, you need to go.”

“I came here to dance,” she says, kicking off her shoes. I watch her and I’m at war with myself, knowing I need to send her away, but wanting one last taste of her. And why shouldn’t I? She owes me. I’m still who I am. I can take this and send her away. She wants to play the whore? Why shouldn’t I let her? Surely that’s the only reason I don’t stop her when she peels those jeans down over her hips, revealing the peach-colored flesh I want to bite into. They slide further down her legs and she gracefully kicks them off.

Fuck it. Let her dance. I sit in a cushioned chair, waiting and hoping like hell I manage to look bored because I’m anything but.

“I’ve missed you Roman,” she whispers, lifting her shirt over her head.

“If you want to dance, Ana, then dance. But I don’t need the commentary,” I warn her, my voice cold.

I can’t hear her say words that shouldn’t mean a damn thing to me. It shouldn’t matter in the least that she misses me. I don’t miss the fire in her eyes at my words. I’m pissing her off. Good. She should be pissed off. She should feel anger, because it’s all that I’ve felt since that day in the cemetery. Nothing has made it better. Even learning that she told the court that she planted all of the shit on me under orders of a superior officer did nothing to soothe my anger. I wanted to choke her. I wanted to scream and kill her. I wanted to fuck her. No matter the anger and hate inside of me, it always boiled down to that. I wanted to sink into her tight little cunt and fuck her so hard and raw that she’d never walk right again.

I still want that. As she stands in front of me in her silk underthings now, I want it so much my damn cock is salivating in need. Until Ana, I was all about control. Now I have none. Not a fucking drop of it.

She walks towards me, her hips swaying in tune to some imaginary music. Black silk. She’s wearing black silk underwear and it never looked so fucking good. She bypasses the pole and I mourn it. I’d love to see her grinding up against it, spinning around, opening her legs…

All thoughts of it stop, however, when she stands in front of me. She puts her hands on my shoulders and leans down so her breasts are in front of my face. It might be my imagination, but they look larger than I remember, so fucking ripe and big that I could push my cock into their depths and wrap them tight around my shaft and fuck myself with them. I resist… barely.

Her finger nails drag down my chest, stopping at my tie, and she quickly undoes it with just a few easy moves. I’d be impressed if my eyes weren’t glued to the way her hips are moving as if she’s sliding back and forth on my cock. She leans down and, as she unbuttons my shirt, her tongue licks a path down my chest. My hands bite into the armrest of the chair I’m in to keep from touching her. It’s a wonder I don’t break off the damn thing.

“I thought you didn’t do private dances,” I grumble, my voice hoarse.

Ana stops and looks at me, her eyes full of desire. Against my will, my hand goes to my cock, which is rock hard, and I grab it, squeezing it tight to try and hold the fucker back from coming in my damn pants. Not again. Not…

All thought stops when Ana unhooks her bra and throws it to the floor. Next, she slides down the barely-there scrap of lace that had covered her pussy. The lips of that juicy cunt are plump and covered in her desire, slick and wet to the eye, and I breathe in the scent of her arousal. What man could resist that? Especially when they know firsthand how fucking good it is.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, Roman,” she says, sinking to her knees between my legs. I don’t stop her when she starts undoing my belt. If anything, I widen my legs. She wants fucked? I can fuck her. Doesn’t mean I won’t send her on her way when it’s done.

“What’s that?” I ask, closing my eyes as she lowers the zipper and snakes her hand inside to wrap it around my dick.

“I didn’t come here to dance for you,” she whispers before sliding my cock in her mouth and devouring it.

Against my will, my hand tangles in her hair as I watch inch by inch of my shaft disappear in that sweet haven. She doesn’t stop, sliding down on my dick and letting it stretch her mouth. She takes me all the way to the back of her throat, only stopping when her nose is pushed up against the small nest of curls on my body. I feel the small puffs of air hit my skin as she breathes. She starts to pull off my dick, and I selfishly tighten my hold on her hair, not letting her, needing to savor this moment. Finally, I’m the one who pulls her off of my dick. My fingers so tangled in her hair, I know it’s hurting her, but she doesn’t fight. I drag her face up to mine, admiring the way her lips shine with a combination of her saliva and my pre-cum. They’re puffy from the rough way I moved her head on my dick. Beautiful.

“You want fucked, Ana? I’ll fuck you. It’s not going to change anything,” I warn her, or maybe myself. “You need a dick, I’ll give it to you.” I growl again before taking her mouth with my own.

I take Roman’s kiss, and it’s a punishing kiss. It’s a kiss full of anger, betrayal, and desire. I take it, even as his words wound me. His tongue pushes into my mouth, hard and unforgiving. I let him conquer my mouth, drinking in his taste. If all I get is this one night, then I’m going to take it and hopefully live on it the rest of my life.

When we break apart, we’re both breathing hard. He holds me prisoner by the way he has my hair. He roughly turns me so my back is to him, lifting me up on his lap so I’m forced to straddle his legs. His grip on my hair lets go, but only to be replaced by an equally punishing grip on my hip as he holds me suspended in the air.

“Is this what you want, Ana? Did you come here like a dog in heat needing my cock?” he growls, his words wounding me while at the same time sending my desire up another notch. There’s nothing I can say to him that will reach him. I understand that now. So be it. If this is the end of whatever we were to each other, there’s nothing I can do. So I give him the only words he wants from me.

“Fuck me, Roman,” I tell him.

He doesn’t answer, not with words. He growls out at me. His voice raw and untamed like a wounded animal and I can hear what he thinks I don’t. I hear the hurt and anger mixed in it. It’s not my imagination; it permeates the air around us. I did that. I betrayed Roman. I swallow down the wave of sadness inside of me and concentrate on the here and now. He thrusts me down on his cock, slamming into me with so much force that it feels like he might tear me apart. Fear hits me for a moment. I want him, but I can’t let him… I grab his hand from my hip and pull it up my side and to my breast. I knead my breast with it while rotating my hips and grinding my pussy against his dick. Soon, his other hand joins in and he’s holding both of my breasts while I ride him. I’m tightening the muscles of my pussy against his shaft, moving up and down on him and riding him in a way I know will bring him the most pleasure—in the way he taught me to ride him.

“You feel so good, Roman. I love the way you fill me, so big and wide I can taste you when you’re inside of me.”

“Shut up, Ana,” he growls, his hands punishing my breasts in a way I know will leave bruises.

“I need you, Roman. I’ve been so lost without you,” I tell him, my head going back against his shoulder as my body rides him faster, twisting my hips to the side so he rakes against the soft walls of my pussy. He’s so warm and hot, filling me so tightly that I swear I can feel the ridges of his dick inside me, scraping every nerve ending I have.

“You just needed fucking. Any dick would do, Ana. It’s just sex.”

“I’ll never have anyone but you inside of me, Roman,” I answer him honestly. “Oh, God, baby. I’m going to come.”

“Goddamn you, Ana,” he groans, but I can feel the way his muscles tighten. He’s getting ready to come too.

“Please, Roman, give me your cum. Unload it all in me. Give me enough to keep me warm even after you send me away,” I cry beyond the point where I can feel shame. Giving him honesty is so much easier when I don’t have to see him and can just let go and stare straight ahead, losing myself in the sensations he’s drawing from my body.

“Fuck,” he moans from behind me, his hands leaving my breasts to slide down my sides to my hips. One goes even further, not stopping until his fingers find my clit. He manipulates it and I cry out his name on a low, whining moan as my climax thunders through my body. I can feel myself coming all over his shaft as spasm after spasm shakes me to my core. My hands are biting into the arms of the chair as I lose myself. I hear Roman’s roar a moment later and then feel the first hot splash of cum inside of me, followed by another and another. I continue riding him through his own orgasm, unable to do anything but feel.

“I love you, Roman. I love you,” I whisper.  “I’ll always love you.”

She’s destroyed me. I thought she had before, but I had no idea. As I’m left sitting here with Ana resting against my chest and the final aftershocks of my orgasm finishing, I know now. She’s destroyed me. The cries of her telling me she loved me are still echoing in my ears. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? I give myself a couple moments before I pull her off of me. I can’t breathe. I need to distance myself from this. From her. She stands, almost falling. I stand up, zipping up my pants and needing to get away. Needing to get away from her body… Fuck, I’m choking on the scent of her.

“Roman?”

I can’t look back at her. I can’t.  “I can’t do this, Ana. I’m not giving you an opportunity to betray me again. I’m not a man who does love. That doesn’t exist. The only instinct that matters is survival,” I tell her when I reach the door, my back to her.

“Let me in, Roman. I promise you I’ll make sure you never regret it. Please, don’t shut me out.”

My hand trembles with the need to give in. She’ll never know how much I want to do exactly that.

“Goodbye, Ana.”

“Goodbye, Roman,” she says, her voice hoarse with tears. I hear them and I feel like a bastard for being the cause of them. I am a bastard. I’m pushing her out of my life. When I found out about her betrayal, something inside of me broke. I’ve always managed to be detached in life. Ana stopped that. Her betrayal nearly brought me to my knees and that is unacceptable. No one will have that control over me again. No matter how much I may wish it was different.

I walk out of the room and keep going. Allen stops me at the door, I know he’s worried about his sister, but I can’t talk to him. Right now, I don’t think I can talk to anyone. If I did, the only words I’d want to say would be begging Ana not to leave.

“Take your sister home, Allen. Make sure she doesn’t come back,” I growl, opening the door. When the night air hits me, it does nothing to drive away Ana’s scent. I have a feeling nothing ever will.

It’s over.

Three Months Later

“What are you two doing? I can’t believe you kidnapped me! Do you know there are laws against this?” I cry, my heart still racing in my chest.

I’m in the back of Roman’s limousine with Bruno. Allen is driving. Apparently, the mole on the inside of Roman’s business was Robert, and he used the maid Mayra as his personal spy. No wonder the bitch had it out for me from the start. Allen told me that a month ago. It surprised me, but I was glad that Roman finally knew who the guy in his organization was. I was relieved even though it had nothing to do with me anymore—which is why I’m panicked at the thought of being in Roman’s car.

I made a clean break from Roman. I even moved to Georgia to start my life over again. The last thing I need is to be anywhere near him right now. My hand goes to my stomach—my very pregnant stomach. There’s definitely no hiding the baby bump now. No, at almost six months pregnant, there’s no hiding. I pull the heavy coat I’m wearing tighter around me. At least Allen gave me this coat. I don’t know what he’s doing, but I need something to hide the fact that I’m pregnant from Roman if I see him again.

“The boss needs you,” Bruno says, or rather, repeats. That’s all he or Allen have been saying since they broke into my house before dawn this morning and manhandled me into the limo. Okay, carried—and rather delicately, really, considering I’m getting so fat.

“And I told you, I doubt Roman would want me anywhere near him. Whatever is going on, you need to find someone else to help him,” I respond, not bothering to ask what in the world he needed me for, since they haven’t answered the other hundred times I’ve asked.

Silence.

I didn’t expect anything else. It’s evening now and, except for a few quick stops for restroom and food breaks, we’ve driven all day. In fact, I figure in an hour I’ll be at Roman’s house. With each mile that we travel, my nerves and panic kick up. When we turn into Roman’s private driveway, I can literally taste my fear.

“Allen, please don’t do this. Take me back home.”

“Sis, Roman—”

“I don’t want him to keep me because he knows I’m pregnant, Allen. I deserve better than that,” I tell him, and then it hits me. “Oh, God. Is that it, Allen? Does Roman know I’m pregnant and wants to take my baby?” My hand goes to my stomach, wrapping around it as if to protect him from the unknown threat.

Allen stops the car to look back at me. He cups my shoulder gently with understanding. If anything good has come out of this whole mess, it’s that Allen and I have grown close.

“He doesn’t know about the baby, Ana. I promise you. You are needed. You’ll understand when you see him.” I swallow, unable to hide the panic on my face. “I promise that I will take you back home the moment you ask me, Ana. Trust me.”

I bite my lips, but shake my head yes. There’s little I can do about it now.

“I’ll be outside for an hour, Ana. Just come out if you need me,” Allen says a little later when he opens the front door.

“You’re leaving me?” I ask, nearly choking on the fear.

“I’ll just be outside, sis. I promise.”

I close my eyes as the shutting of the door sounds so final. My nose wrinkles at the musty smell of Roman’s house. It always smelled like fresh outdoors and pine. Did his cleaning crew quit? I walk through the darkened foyer, my hand automatically feeling for the light switch on the wall because the house is completely dark. Fear swamps me. I pull the coat more towards my front, doing my best to hide my baby-bump. Was Roman in an accident? Did something happen? Is that why they wanted me here?

“Roman?” I call out, my voice little more than a whisper. When I hear nothing back, I take a breath and try to strengthen myself. “Roman?”

I stop and listen. I hear the faint sound of someone coming from Roman’s den. I make my way there, turning on the lights. What I see in the main living room stops me in my tracks. There are empty liquor bottles everywhere, Styrofoam containers that, from the smell, now contain remnants of moldy take-out. I pull one back just to be sure and instantly close it when I take in the green and white remnants of what I think used to be a half-eaten hamburger. There’s empty soda cans and pizza boxes too. The once pristine white carpet will probably never be clean again. What the hell has been going on here?

I make it to the den, my hand stalling on the doorknob as I gather up what little courage I have. I open it, my nose curling in disgust. The stench is even worse in here. The room is completely dark. I flip on a lamp that’s on a table by the door. The room floods with light and it takes a minute for my eyes to adjust. Even then, it takes me a minute to understand what I’m seeing. Roman is laying on the floor, his hair grown out ridiculously long for him, the dark bangs lying haphazardly over his eyes. He’s wearing a t-shirt that I think is supposed to be white, but has obviously been through a war with beer and pizza—and lost. He has on gray jogging pants that are riding low on his hips and he’s staring straight at me, his eyes bloodshot.

“Roman?” I ask, because God’s honest truth, I can’t be sure. The man I’m staring at is nothing like the Roman, I know.

“The bitch who haunts me,” he slurs. “What are you doing here, pet? You’re early. You’re not supposed to haunt my dreams until I pass out.” He holds up a half empty bottle of whiskey, shaking it at me. “I still have some to go before I get there.”

Dear Lord. “Roman, what happened to you?”

“As if you didn’t know. You poisoned me,” he growls, and I have no idea what he is talking about.

“Roman,” I start, but he interrupts me.

“I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t even fucking breathe without you in my head, your taste on my tongue, your fucking scent filling my lungs. I told you to leave, Ana. I told you to get the fuck away from me. Why won’t you leave me alone to die in peace?” he growls at me, except it’s not at me. I get the feeling he doesn’t think I’m really here.

I rub my palm across my forehead. Of all the things I expected, this wasn’t it. There’s no talking to Roman like this. I don’t even know what this means. The only thing that is clear is that he’s missed me. He’s been as miserable as I have. If I hadn’t had the baby to think about these months without him, would I have been in much the same shape? Probably.

Roman might not realize it, but we’re made for each other. I pick up the phone and dial Allen’s cell.

“Sis?”

“You and Bruno need to come help me sober up the father of my child.”

“Sis?” he asks again.

“You got me here, Allen. Now help me,” I order him, hanging up. I look over at Roman who is snoring now, and I can almost smile.

As soon as my head quits trying to kill me, I’m going to fire Bruno and Allen. I wince as the light from the window shines through, the blinds pulled up. Who the fuck did that? And why am I in this damn room? I don’t sleep in this bed. I can’t sleep in this bed. Ana haunts me here.

Fuck. She haunts me everywhere.

I look down at the bed and notice there are clean sheets on it. Even so, I can still smell the faint trace of Ana’s perfume on them. My dick jerks awake, but I ignore the fucker. He and I both are getting tired of using my hand. I get out of bed, frowning when I see a clean pair of jogging pants lying across the nightstand. I slip them on, ignoring how even the slightest movement causes pain to radiate through my joints and center in the mother of all hangovers that has taken up residence behind my eyes. Even my fucking teeth hurt. I’m way too fucking sober. I’ve been drunk for months now and today is not the day to try being sober. I walk out of the room, intent on finding another bottle of whiskey and maybe some leftover pizza. I think there’s some left in one of the boxes in the kitchen.

I stop when I enter the den and there are three women in uniforms cleaning the room. They’re wearing black pants and gray shirts that proclaim them “Helping Hand Maid Service”. What the fuck? I wrench a vacuum cleaner out of the hand of one of them and shut the son of a bitch off.

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?” I growl, the roar of my voice hurting me, but not nearly as much as the vacuum was doing. The ladies look at me like I’m the insane one, which is crazy because they’re the ones trespassing. “I mean it! I want to know what the fuck you are doing here and who let you in!”

“They’re cleaning.”

My breath lodges in my chest and I’m afraid to fucking turn around—afraid it’s her, afraid it’s not. Jesus.

“Ladies, if you could, go ahead and move to the kitchen. We can finish in here after Mr. Anthes and I talk.”

They hustle out, and still I’m unable to turn around. I take the coward’s way out and, instead, walk to the window. I stare out at the rolling green grass of my yard and try to figure out exactly what is going on.

“What are you doing here, Ana?” I ask when I can’t stand the silence any longer.

“Bruno and Allen came and got me. They said you needed me.”

“I didn’t ask them to,” I grumble, my hand coming up to rub my chin.

“I know. Were they telling me the truth?”

“About what?”

“Do you need me, Roman?”

Yes, my brain screams out, but I don’t say that. I can’t. I go to turn around instead, needing to figure out how to talk to her and make her stay without giving in. “Ana…”

“Don’t turn around, Roman. If you’re just going to send me away again, keep your back turned to me. You owe me that. I don’t want to have to see your face if all you are going to do is send me away again. I can’t handle that.”

“Have you missed me, Ana?”

“With every breath that I draw,” she whispers, and it feels like there’s this fist around my heart. Her confession is raw and maybe I just want to believe it. I’m not sure, but it feels honest. It feels like truth, so I give her one of my own.

“I miss you too, pet.”

“Then don’t send me away again, Roman. Let me come home. I know my lies hurt you, but I never lied about anything that was important. I love you.”

Let her come home. Does she have any idea how much I want that? Does she know what it did to me to know that I pushed her away thinking she had planted evidence on me, only to find out Robert had done it? Does she have any idea the hell I’ve gone through knowing I pushed away my only chance at happiness? I used to think love was a lie invented by Hollywood, a dream created to sell books and movies. Survival was the only thing I understand, and maybe it still is, because I know I need Ana in my life to survive. Without her, I don’t want to. I don’t want to live one more day without her.

“Ana? Can I turn around now, if I ask you to stay?” I question, my voice thick. I look down at my hands and they’re shaking.

“Are you going to ask me to stay?” she asks, her voice breaking.

“No,” I tell her, turning. My eyes instantly lock onto her. “I’m going to beg…” My voice trails off because I’m standing there drinking in the woman I adore. I drink her in, her sun-kissed blonde hair shining, her violet eyes full of tears. The lavender sundress she’s wearing joins in and it all comes together to make her more beautiful than even I remembered.

The thing that freezes my voice and makes any further words impossible though is the obvious swell of her stomach.

Ana. My Ana, is… pregnant.

I see the exact moment Roman discovers I’m pregnant. I’m okay with it. After spending the night in his arms, him holding me even as he was sleeping, him whispering my name when I curled into him, I knew. He might not have said it and maybe he never will, but Roman loves me. That was evident in the way he came unraveled without me, in the way he held me last night. He loves me. I can live without the words because I feel them.

Still, even knowing that, this morning I was nervous. I was prepared to fight Roman tooth and nail to get him to admit that he needed me. Knowing he’s caving easily makes it all okay.

“Ana?” he asks, a look of disbelief on his face and maybe, just maybe happiness. My hand goes to my stomach, rubbing it softly.

“Surprise?” I half tell, half ask.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yeah,” I tell him, panicking. Is he going to get mad about this? Because I didn’t tell him? Will he see that there was no way I was going to force him to accept me in his life, if he didn’t want me?

“We’re having a baby?”

I bite my lip and try to remember to breathe.

“A little boy.”

“You already know?” he asks, his eyes moving from my stomach to my eyes as he walks to me.

“Yeah.” I’m unsure of what else to say.

“We’re having a baby,” he whispers, dropping to his knees in front of me, his large hand caressing each side of my stomach as he places a kiss in the middle of it. Little Roman apparently didn’t like that because he kicks out against his dad’s kiss. Roman’s head snaps back and he looks up at me and I can’t help but smile.

“I think he might be a football player,” I tell him, placing my hand over one of Roman’s and bringing it back to the spot on my stomach where the baby likes to push. In just a minute or two, I feel the fluttering sensation as the baby delivers a well-timed kick.

“Oh my God. That’s our baby,” Roman says, at a loss for words and acting in ways I never thought I’d see him.

“It is,” I tell him, my fingers tangling in his hair.

“We’re going to have a baby,” he says again, but I see the happiness in his face and something shifts inside of me.

“We are. We’re going to be a family, Roman.”

“You’re never leaving me, Ana. I can’t make it without you,” he says, allowing the fear to cloud his eyes briefly before that bone-melting dominant look returns, and his hand wraps in my hair. He brings our lips together for a kiss and right before his claims mine, he murmurs against them. “You’re never getting away from me again, pet.”  I let his claim echo through my body, healing the empty spots inside of me that are remaining, and take his kiss.  I don’t answer, because there’s nothing else to say.

I never want to leave Roman. I’m home to stay.

Roman Allen Anthes was born on November 14th at three in the morning after making me go through forty-two hours of grueling labor and nearly causing his father to go insane. It was all worth it though, and when I look at the child who is turning six months old today, I couldn’t imagine life being more complete.

“Is mommy’s baby, hungry?” I ask him, reaching down into the crib. He instantly stops crying and he reaches out to me with his little hands, knowing what comes next.

I take him to the rocking chair that Roman surprised me with when we were fixing up the nursery. It’s a beautiful handmade piece that I will cherish the rest of my life. I pull the strap from my dress and adjust my breast so the baby can begin to nurse. He latches on and greedily drinks up. It took some getting used to, but I love breastfeeding. It sounds hokey, but it feels as if by doing it, I’m affirming nature’s grand design. I even feel beautiful, even if my body is never going to get back to the shape it was in before Roman Jr. decided to wreck it.

I begin rocking slowly. Not enough movement to jar him, but just a soft, rhythmic movement that he likes. I hum his favorite lullaby. Pretty soon, his hungry grunts and swallows fill the room as his little hand wraps around my finger. I kiss his forehead and commit this to memory. Another beautiful memory in a lifetime of them. That’s what life with Roman has given me. I’m the luckiest woman on the face of the Earth. I feel that in my soul. Roman and I might have started off rocky, but the ride was more than worth it. I wouldn’t change a thing.

It’s two in the afternoon on a Friday and I’m headed home. I won’t be going back into town until sometime Monday, and honestly, if I had my way, I wouldn’t even then. I make a point of always trying to be home around this time every day. I don’t want to miss it. Ana has no idea the hoops I jump through just so I can be here in time to watch her nurse our son. As I round the corner to the baby’s nursery, I stop as the breath stalls in my chest.

Ana is humming a song and our child is suckling from her breast, greedily eating. The little grunts he makes fills the room and I smile, but my heart is full. In this room is my world. My complete world. I once thought love didn’t exist, merely survival. I was so fucking wrong. There are no words.

Love exists. I look at Ana now and I can’t believe it. I was an asshole. Hell, I still am, in many ways. I used her. I demanded her acceptance, her allegiance, and her body. I held her brother over her head and demanded she give me everything I wanted. I wanted to dominate and own her. My, how the mighty fall. I might have been unfair to her, but in the end, it was her who got the victory.

She owns me. She controls my world.

“I love you, Ana.” I tell her and her face jerks up, realizing I’m standing beside her. At my words, tears spring from her eyes. She cries at the drop of a hat these days. I worried about it until she told me that her heart was so full, she couldn’t help it.

“I love you, Roman,” she whispers, smiling.

Love isn’t about survival. I made demand after unjustified demand, trying to own and control what no man could. Love isn’t about taking. Love is all about giving. My Ana taught me that, and I’ll spend the rest of my life showing her I learned the lesson well.

The End.

I hope you guys enjoyed Roman and Ana’s story. I am already working on a new book and if you like Alpha men claiming their woman hard and fast I think you’ll like it. It will be released much fast than this book. You can look for it in May!  Turn the page for a sample of my first book Unlawful Seizure if you haven’t read it. It’s available for 99 cents and free in Kindle Unlimited. You can follow me at any of the links below for more information and keep up to date on what’s happening!

Baylee

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Ruthless, Demanding, Wicked and Running from the Law.

Tessa:

It was a routine parole hearing, until I get caught in the middle of a prison break.

Now I’m property of Max Kincaid, Florida Correctional Inmate Number 91428

I should be terrified.

I should be demanding my freedom.

Instead I’m begging him to deliver on all the wicked promises in his eyes.

The longer I’m with him, the more I need him.

His touch answers cravings I never knew my body had.

Now, all I crave is him.

Max:

My life ended years ago.

I have no right to touch Tessa. I should let her go.

I can’t. Instead, I lose myself in her body.

I’m living on borrowed time.

But when the devil comes to collect his due,

It will be with her taste on my mouth.

My brand on her body.

And her name on my lips.

This Book is a standalone containing one hot alpha and the woman who wants him even more than the cops chasing them both.

Insta-love, hot fun in the Flordia Sun...or rain and a Happily Ever After guaranteed.

1

Tess

I wake up with a migraine and feeling sick to my stomach. That is sign number one. Sign number two is my horoscope warning me I shouldn’t leave the house today. Sign number three is when I go outside to discover my old, beat up, 1990 something model Toyota, sitting on a flat. I’m stressed out already, and it’s only 7 am. I’m all set to call in sick when my boss calls me with his usual song and dance. I’m sick today Tessa. I really need to take the day off. Clear all my appointments. Make up some excuse for me. What he really means, is he and his wife are flying to Tahoe for the weekend. I know because Claire, the other secretary, let that little tidbit slip.

When I remind him that Judge Ryson appointed him as counsel in a case that was on the docket this morning, he goes silent. When I inform him it is a parole hearing and can’t be rescheduled, that sick feeling only increases. When he asks me to get Stuart to cover for him, we begin a ten-minute conversation on why Stuart is hopeless and will end up losing the case and destroying a man’s chance for freedom.

I’m not usually so concerned, but his client today is Max Kincaid, and I’m more than slightly obsessed with this case. Max deserves someone who will actually try to get him free.

I shouldn’t be that concerned with this case. I should have kept my fat mouth shut because the next thing I know, Charles, my boss, has volunteered me to go before the parole board and present the case as his proxy.  I try every way in the world to stress that I can’t do it. I point out that Mr. Kincaid was unlawfully put in jail, and he needs a real attorney looking out for him. I might as well have saved my breath. His response was that I know the case better than anyone and Mr. Kincaid would best be served with me, by his side.

“Tess you know the law inside and out. You can do this.”  Click.

That’s the only response I get from my final plea for him to do what the freaking state pays him to do. I really should have quit this job ages ago. I haven’t because I can’t afford to. I would have loved to go on to law school, but I put myself through school to get my paralegal license. There’s no way I can work full time to pay back student loans, and go back to school.

I was stupid enough to think that I would get a job right out of school. Well, not completely stupid. I did get a job immediately—at McDonald’s and then later at Shoe Warehouse and Dollar Mart.  I had three jobs and still could barely manage to pay rent on my apartment.  It was also an apartment I barely visited, unless it was to collapse on the bed to nap before my next shift started.

I was drowning in debt from school loans and so tired I could barely hold my eyes open.  When I walked into Charles Barger’s, and he offered me a paralegal position, it seemed like the answer to my dreams.

It turned out to be a nightmare.

It does keep a roof over my head though and the damn collection calls down.  That’s what I remind myself of again today, as I put on my big girl panties and suck it up. It’s a parole hearing and on a case I do, in fact, know inside and out.

I get my tire changed and head to the office, grabbing the files and things I will need for the hearing, then head straight for the federal prison in Ormond. It takes a good hour to drive there, and the hearing is scheduled to start in forty minutes. That’s when yet another sign from the universe falls in my lap, in the form of a speeding ticket. Fuck my life!

I try to pay attention to my speedometer the rest of the trip, but it’s hard. My mind is swirling as I go over the facts I need to present to the panel.  My boss wasn’t lying when he said that I knew this case better than anyone. The truth is I’ve been consumed with Max Kincaid’s case. I must have read his file a thousand times. I know it’s not healthy. I do. I just can’t seem to make myself stop. I stare at his picture, and something about those dark, inky, onyx eyes call to me.  His features seem familiar, even though there’s no way that’s possible.

I’ve even memorized his information. Max Kincaid, age thirty-six, date of birth February 11, 1979. Dark black hair, black eyes, and three distinct scars. A small one above his right eyebrow, one on his side from an appendectomy he had as a teen, and one jagged scar on his chest he received in the line of duty as a soldier in the Middle East. Max is a hero, awarded the Purple Heart for heroism in battle when he saved his entire platoon from a mortar attack by driving straight into the line of fire and drawing it away from his men. He had more men offer to stand up for him during his murder trial than the judge would allow to testify.  By all accounts, Max was the golden boy, the man that women loved, and men wanted to be. His downfall came from loving the wrong woman, marrying her, expecting a child with her and then brutally extracting revenge for their deaths.

I lay awake at night recounting the facts of the case, and having my heart hurt for the man who lost so much, because of a decision filled with revenge. Truthfully, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have tried to do the same thing as he did if I were in his shoes. A part of me cheers for him.  That’s why I’m doing this; but find myself a little giddy at the chance to actually meet Max Kincaid and be close to him.

Claire, my co-worker, likes to joke that I’m halfway in love with the man. If she knew some of the dreams I’ve had, that involve Max, she’d be ready to call the men in white coats.

This is important. This could be the single most important thing I ever do. Not only will I get to meet the man, but I also get the chance to be the one to right a wrong. Yes, he killed a man, and yes, that is wrong. However, the circumstances of the case, the outstanding character witnesses that testified on his behalf and the fact that he has already served five years of his sentence without a single demerit or mark against him, all combine and tell me he should get parole. Now, if I can just convince the court of that.

I feel strongly that he was wronged. I think I’m supposed to do this. I’m supposed to be the one to rescue him. That’s the real reason why I ignore the signs the universe keeps throwing my way. It’s also why I don’t let the fear that floods me when I drive through the prison gates, after checking in at the guardhouse, overpower me.

I go through all of the security points at the main entrance and have my files, purse and items searched. I manage only to be five minutes late, but in the end that doesn’t matter since a couple members of the panel are running behind. That will give me a few minutes to meet with Max…I mean Mr. Kincaid before the hearing and go over our battle plan.

“Could you have Mr. Kincaid brought down now? I’d like to meet with him before our hearing.”

“You’ll have to wait here until I have the prisoner brought in and settled,” the guard tells me.

“I…okay. That’s fine. I’ll just wait here.” He doesn’t reply and goes out.

My heart is beating out of my chest.  I need to move past my excitement of getting to meet Max Kincaid and get my mind onto obtaining his freedom for him.  It’s another ten minutes; which only serves to increase my nerves, before the guard comes back and escorts me in.  For a minute, I think I stop breathing. Max is sitting at a table, and if I ignore the orange jumpsuit, he looks even better than he did in his pictures. His black hair is straight and lays lazily on his head, making it look like someone has lovingly run their fingers through it. His dark eyes pin me immediately and with such intensity it takes all I have not to hesitate when walking towards him.  His large hands are lying on the table with chains around them. I know that is normal procedure, but on him it feels wrong.

I don’t know what I imagined our first words would be to each other. In my daydreams of Max, I thought we’d meet, and I’d rescue him and he’d be the one. The man who would understand me, who would just…fit me. I thought somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind he might recognize that feeling when he saw me for the first time, too. It sounds all kinds of stupid and juvenile and normally I’m not that kind of woman. I don’t know why I am where Max is concerned.

All of those wishes and silly dreams are blown out of the water when his harsh, barking voice rings out and stops me in my tracks.

“Who the fuck are you?”

2

Max

I’ve given up on hope. Hope doesn’t exist. It hasn’t since five years ago when I heard the sound of cold metal slamming shut, and I began my stay at the Ormond County Correctional and Rehabilitation Institution. Hope left that day, and it hasn’t returned. Life took on the dull gray color of the prison itself, and I became a creature who didn’t live. I only existed.

Today is my parole hearing. My fourth to be exact. It doesn’t mean shit. They’re not going to set me free. That doesn’t happen when you kill a man. I don’t give a fuck. I find I don’t give a fuck about anything these days. I haven’t in a long time. I won’t get parole because every time a bunch of stiff-necked suits ask me if I feel remorse for my crime, I laugh.

I killed the man who murdered my wife. She was a whore. I didn’t love her, didn’t even like her.  But I did love the child she was carrying. So I hunted him down, and I squeezed the life out of him with my bare hands. I watched as, bit by bit, the light drained from his eyes and just when he was about to die, I let the pressure off his neck and allowed him to gasp another breath. Then, I did it again. Rinse and repeat until finally I ended the motherfucker. I relished it. I spit on his corpse as I let him fall to the ground. I didn’t feel remorse. Shit, no. Instead, I got the first fucking hard on I’d had in months.

A machine-made sound buzzes and the retracting of my cell door begins. I stand there as Officer Jenkins comes into view. He’s a cocky asshole who gets his kicks out of beating prisoners, just because he can. I tower over him. Hell, I could snap him like a fucking twig. I’ve always restrained but as he looks at me a sneer on his face and spits at my shoes, I can’t help but wonder if two murders would send me to hell quicker? It might be worth the gamble.

“Let’s go, cupcake. Time for you to go and beg for freedom like the candy-ass you are,” he says, grabbing my arm and pulling me in front of him.

I don’t say anything; I don’t even change my facial expression. This piss-ant ain’t nothing to me. If I liked him, even marginally, I’d warn him there is a prison riot and break out planned for today. I might even go one step further and tell him he’s the one Hernandez, and his crew are planning on beating the shit out of. Hell, I’d even warn him about the jagged Coke bottle they had smuggled in and have been fixing up, just for his lily white ass. I don’t. The ass-reaming he’s going to get couldn’t happen to a nicer guy. We walk down a long hall, surrounded by prison cells on each side. I ignore the yelling, questions, and catcalls. I have a reputation as someone you do not fuck with, in this joint. That’s good enough for me.  Hernandez tried to get me to join his crew for the breakout. I didn’t. There’s nothing waiting for me outside these doors. Not a fucking thing.

We make our way to the last set of steel doors, and they slide open as the guard on the other side lets us in. I’m escorted into an elevator where another guard joins us. I forget this one’s name. Byron or something like that, pretty decent guy. I’d warn him, but then he’d feel obligated to stop it, and that wouldn’t be good for me. So I don’t. My conscience has been colored gray like these fucking walls, too.

The small room where they hold the parole hearings hasn’t changed; neither has the smell. The smell of the prison permeates every inch of the place. If there is one thing I fucking hate the most about this place, it is the stink of it.

I’m placed at a small table that will face the panel. It’s a familiar routine. There will be a bunch of tight assed, fancy dressed assholes, who look as if my presence offends them. Hell, they need to get in line. My presence offends my own damn self.

I’m waiting for everyone to show up when she walks in.

Fucking hell! Who let her in here?  She walks through the door looking lost. She is. She’s a damned baby thrown into an angry tank of sharks. She’s going to get eaten alive. She has hair the color of coffee, creamy and rich. It’s pulled on top of her head and wrapped in a bun. I’m sure it was meant to give her a matronly appearance. It does not. It exposes her neck and makes the beast in me want to bite into it while I bend her over the damn table she just put the briefcase on. She’s wearing black, dress pants that hug her slim thighs and a red silk shirt. I can’t even remember the last time I had sex and one look at her, and my dick is ready to come for days. Come all over her, to be exact. A picture of her buck-ass naked and covered in my jizz, from her thick apple lips to her fuck-me stilettos, cements in my mind.

“Who the fuck are you?” I bark at her, annoyed at the way my dick is standing at attention.

“I…I’m Mr. Barger’s paralegal,” she stumbles, her eyes widen in surprise, with a healthy dose of fear mixed in when she looks at me.

“Who the fuck is Mr. Barger?” I ask, doing my best to ignore the way her shirt exposes the mounds of her breasts when she bends over to look through her papers.

“Your lawyer, he was unavoidably detained. I’m here to stand in…”

“I don’t have a fucking lawyer!”

“The court appointed Mr. Barger to appear on your behalf.  Now, if you’ll give me just a few minutes, we can get started. There are some things I’d like to go over with you before I address the panel.”

“I don’t want you addressing the panel,” I respond, and when it appears like she’s going to argue with me, I look at the guard who stayed to monitor me.  “I don’t want her talking on my behalf. I want her gone.”

“Really Mr. Kincaid, if you would just…”

“Lady, my name is Max or Inmate number 91428, not Mr. Kincaid.”

“Fine, Mr. Kincaid, I mean Max, if you will just allow me to…”

“I don’t want counsel! I decline it. Now get the hell out.”

The guard finally stands up. Maybe he’ll actually do something. I need this little lamb out of here before the animals start to attack and eat her alive. She needs to be gone before we go into a full-blown riot. It would appear my conscious is not totally dead.

“Is there a problem?”  The guard asks. If I weren’t worried about getting this chick out of here, I’d stop to roll my fucking eyes.

“Not at all officer. Please have a seat,” the woman interjects. “Now as I was saying, Mr. Barger was called out of town with an emergency. I am the one in the office most familiar with your case, and he sent me in his place. I’m Tessa Oliver, now if we could get started.”

“It would appear that the prisoner does not want your counsel, Ms. Oliver,” the guard says.

Gee ya think? Dumbass.

“No, he just didn’t realize…”

“Damn straight I don’t,” I interrupt before she can finish.

She looks back at me with shock, and there’s a fiery glint in her eyes that tells me I’ve just pissed her off.  That might have been interesting had the alarm not sounded right then. She looks in the direction of the noise.

“What is…?” She asks. The guard, who already knows what the alarm means, breaks every rule in his training and runs out of the small room, leaving me alone with the woman.

“What’s going on?” She questions again, and this time she looks pale and scared. She should. I take a deep breath.

I didn’t want this. I have no fucking use for the game that’s about to be played. It’s too late; the die has been cast. If I leave her on her own, she will be dead or wishing for death by nightfall. I stand up. I’d be lying if I said my dick wasn’t twitching at the way I tower over her small, delicate frame, or at the way her eyes widen in real fear as she tries to step back from me. My hands are in shackles so I do the only thing I can. I take them both and lift them over her head and pull her back into me, letting the heavy chains rest on her chest and against her neck.

“You have just become a prisoner in a prison break.”

Her cry of fear competes with my growl of anger.

Fuck.

Did you enjoy what you read?

Look for Unwritten Rules, coming soon!

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50