Spiked Roses: The Complete Top Shelf Series

by Alta Hensley

  “I like the way the taboo makes me feel. Pushing the boundaries beyond just ordinary sex. Pain electrifies me,” I confessed. “There’s more animalistic desire present, and it completely turns me on. I love the feel of submission. It’s a sense of letting go of everything. Allowing myself to fall and knowing without a doubt that the dominant man I am giving myself to will catch me. Total abandon, and that is the feeling I crave. I’m not a missionary position, vanilla girl.”

  “I’m not a missionary vanilla man either.”

  “No,” I giggled. “I have never mistaken you for being one.”

  He smacked my butt again, and ran his finger down the seam of my ass. Tingles ran from my head to my toes. I would have jumped his bones again right then and there, but he went back to the calming caressing of my hair and said, “Had I known how special you would be, I would have…” He sighed heavily. “I had no idea you would be more than just a fucking hot chick who I pictured myself balls deep in. You really surprised me.”

  “You surprised me too. I didn’t expect you to be as nice as you are. As nurturing and caring. I guess I just expected you to be hard and cold the entire time. I didn’t think I would see this side of you.”

  “What side is that?”

  “The going to get beignets for breakfast side of you. I guess I thought you would just be an incredibly sexy as fuck asshole. But still an asshole.”

  “I am an asshole.”

  “Maybe, but so much more is in you. Whether you want to admit it or not, Harley Crow, you are a good guy.”

  He sighed and seemed to stiffen ever so slightly. I could tell he didn’t like the compliment, and decided not to push it any further.

  Yawning with heavy eyes, I asked, “Tell me about another tattoo.”

  Harley positioned himself onto his side and looked down at me now lying flat on my back. Kissing me softly on the lips, he said, “Another time. I have more tattoos than I can count, and more stories than we have time for. You’ve had a long day and need your sleep.” He kissed me again on the lips, and then the forehead.

  “Don’t leave me,” I said as sleep was setting in. “Sleep with me, please.”

  Harley pulled up the blanket and tucked it under my chin as he brushed some loose hairs of mine from my face. “I’ll be here all night. You’re safe, Marlowe. Again, I’m so sorry for what happened. I’ve never been so sorry before in my life.”

  He may have said more, but a thick layer of exhaustion set in, and all I could do was nod before drifting off to sleep.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Marlowe

  I’d never gotten tucked in at night and kissed on the forehead as a little girl. I didn’t get hugs and kisses. Comfort didn’t come often. It wasn’t that my parents didn’t love me, but they weren’t that way. We didn’t speak the words of love, nor did we show it. Stoic maybe… regardless, I never got it. So, the sense of security and safety was always up to me. I had to feel it by my own means. Deep down, the emotions were mine to control. I didn’t have the aid of anyone else to help in delivering those feelings.

  But then came Harley Crow. He hugged, he kissed, he tucked me in after our lovemaking, he comforted. He protected. He made me feel safe and secure when deep down, I was feeling anything but. And we had made love. I knew it. I felt it. I could see it in the way he looked down at me. He’d touched me like a man giving love, rather than satisfying sexual hunger. He’d given me exactly what I’d needed after the hellish ordeal of the kidnapping.

  I was safe.

  I was secure.

  Harley Crow made damn sure of it.

  I didn’t know how long I would stay living with him, but it felt right. I couldn’t picture leaving his house tucked away in the bayou ever again, and he didn’t make me feel as if I had to. Our contract was up. Our Sunday was spent in bed, sipping coffee by the pool, and we even went for a long boat ride down the channels of the swamp. It was casual. Simple. Easy. The day went fast and slipped through our fingers, yet I didn’t panic because it was all over. Usually when a contract was over, there was either a sense of relief or a sense of pity that it ended too soon because maybe there was still more to explore. A love story didn’t happen from a Tasting; it just wasn’t the way. And maybe that wasn’t what this was. Not a love story, but definitely a story. We had something. Some type of connection. I wasn’t blind or delusional. I wasn’t the crazy stalker who believed Harley cared when he didn’t. I knew better. There was something there. What exactly, I wasn’t sure. But there was something. Harley wouldn’t have saved me otherwise. He wouldn’t have kissed away my tears when I woke up from the bad dreams that awakened me in the middle of the night. He wouldn’t have held me protectively as I snuggled closer to his warmth, never feeling safer in my entire life. Harley wouldn’t have done any of those things if what we had was a simple contract. The contract was about fear. About pushing the boundaries of dark desires. It wasn’t about kisses, cuddles, and tender touches. Yes, there was more. So much more.

  I was in Harley’s house and by his side because I chose to be, and he wanted it. He was protecting me, and I liked it. I liked it far more than I’d ever thought possible. I didn’t need a man. I never did. But I did need Harley. I did, and I wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

  My emotions and feelings were rushing in fast. They were building to more than just the lust I had for him at Spiked Roses. I didn’t love easily. I was not one to fall head over heels. But maybe life and death changed a person. Maybe I didn’t need to have my shield up anymore. Not when I had a warrior of Harley’s strength by my side.

  Hopping out of bed, I felt so much better than I had when Harley first rescued me and brought me home. I hadn’t had any nightmares that I could remember last night. Harley’s arms wrapped around me had made sure of that. He was able to shield me even in sleep. Nothing could harm me again now that I was his to watch over. I knew it. I felt it deep in my gut. That feeling alone made the awful kidnapping and murder of Layla seem to lessen, and with time, I knew I wouldn’t allow it to consume my thoughts. It was a nightmare that was over. At least for me. Not poor Layla, however.

  Harley didn’t want to talk about Layla. I could tell. I saw the pain in his eyes and the way he changed the direction of the conversation every time I tried to bring her up. He wasn’t ready, but neither was I. I wasn’t strong enough to be his pillar during what had to be an awful time for him. He had lost a friend in the most horrendous and gruesome of ways.

  “Hey, what are you doing up so early?” Harley asked as he exited the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his lower half. His wet hair hung limply on his forehead and around his ears, and I instantly wanted him back in the bed with me. “I was going to go and pick up some breakfast and bring it back to us before you woke.”

  The idea of Harley leaving me again for breakfast made my stomach flip. Memories of the morning he had left to get beignets came washing in like a tidal wave. A shiver ran down my spine, and my hands trembled at my sides.

  Walking over to me in long strides, Harley took me into his arms and kissed the top of my head. “Never again. I told you. You will never feel like your life is in danger again. I swear this to you.”

  I nodded against his chest, inhaling the scent of soap and aftershave. “I know.” I pulled away and looked up at him. “Do you have anything in your kitchen? I could make us something. Eggs? Toast?” I really didn’t want him to leave.

  He chuckled. “Do you really think I would?”

  Smiling, I said, “I guess not. But why don’t you give me a little bit to get showered and dressed and we can go into town together to eat. I have to check in with Spiked Roses anyway. Tennessee is a stickler when it comes to reporting to duty after a Tasting. It’s his way of making sure we are all safe and in one piece both mentally and physically.”

  An eyebrow rose, and a smirk on Harley’s delicious lips had me nearly swooning. “You do realize I’m an owner right? I think I have some pull over Mr. Tennessee Charles.�
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  I pulled away and started walking toward my bag to bring with me into the bathroom. “That’s what you think. Have you met Tennessee? That man will string me up by my toenails if I don’t follow his house rules. Sleeping with the owner won’t get me off the hook. That man will have no mercy, and I rather like my toes.” I walked toward the bathroom and stopped to look over my shoulder. “Twenty minutes, and I will be ready to go. Promise. I won’t take long.”

  “Fifteen, or I’m coming in after you.”

  “I may like that,” I said playfully with a wink.

  Sauntering over with that impish smirk that I had grown to absolutely love, he took me by the arm, lifted the shirt of his I wore to sleep in, and swatted my ass hard. “Hurry up, or I’m going to fuck that tight little ass of yours until you scream out my name.”

  I moaned and wiggled my ass. “Yes, please.”

  He swatted me again even harder and then again. “Marlowe… we need food. And a tropical storm is supposed to hit today, so we need to not be out and about during it. If I have to come get you…”

  “All right,” I said with a pout. “I’m going.”

  My stomach growling had me rushing through my shower more than the threat of Harley coming in to get me. Luckily, it didn’t take me long to get ready. Pulling my hair up in a ponytail, and throwing on a black tank top and jeans, I was ready to start the day. I felt refreshed and so much better than I had after the nightmare from Saturday. Everything bad seemed to ease with every passing moment.

  Not caring that my hair was still damp, I walked out of the bathroom. “Done. I bet that was less than fifteen minutes,” I called out playfully.

  Looking around, I could see that Harley wasn’t in the room to see my momentous victory of time management. Playfully half-skipping barefoot to the living room, I was ready to boast the minute I saw him, but he wasn’t in there either, or the kitchen.

  “Harley?” I called out.

  Silence.

  My heart thumped hard against my sternum as an old wound opened. Where was he?

  “Harley?” I called again with a shaky voice as I returned to the living room.

  Oh my God. What if those men had come back? What if others did? What if word had hit the streets where Harley lived and everyone wanted a piece of him?

  Panic attacked as I scanned the living room for something to use as a weapon.

  A large crash from the window facing the pool had me screaming out. Getting ready to flee, thinking someone was trying to break in through the window, I saw that it was just a broken limb banging against the glass. The storm was blowing in already, and the large gusts of wind outside had the patio furniture blowing around wildly as well. Looking down, I could see that one chair had even fallen into the pool.

  I took a deep breath to settle my nerves. Harley was probably just outside trying to tie things down before the storm damaged everything. Deciding to go out and help him, I walked toward the sliding glass door and froze in my spot.

  Attempting to pull the chair out of the pool, was a ghost. Walking dead.

  Layla.

  Layla?

  Layla!

  As if I was walking under water, I somehow walked out of the house and down the stairs to where she struggled with the piece of furniture. The wind whipped around us, and the howling only matched the ringing in my ears. Was I actually seeing her standing before me? This had to be a mistake. There was no way. I had to be seeing things. Maybe I wasn’t healing and doing as well as I had thought. Maybe I was snapping. This was the beginning of a nervous breakdown.

  “Layla?” I called out against the wind, expecting the vision to disappear the minute I spoke out to her.

  She spun around and dropped the chair that she nearly had fished out of the pool back into the water. Her eyes were wide and mouth opened even wider.

  It was her.

  It was her!

  “I don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head. “You were dead. You were dead! I saw you!”

  Her eyes went from staring at me, to staring over my shoulder. Large hands were placed on my shoulder from behind, and I turned my head to see Harley standing there with sadness in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” Layla said. “I thought you guys were done yesterday. I came back last night. I wouldn’t have if I had known.”

  Harley raised his hand to silence her. “It’s all right.”

  “What do you mean it’s all right? What the hell is going on?” I screamed. “I thought she was dead!” I spun around to face him. “Why didn’t you tell me she survived?”

  I looked back at Layla and examined her body. She didn’t look like she had been harmed at all. There had been so much blood. She should have not been standing there without a mark on her with all that blood. There were no gashes, no scrapes, nothing.

  She swallowed hard, and couldn’t make eye contact with me. “I’m sorry. It was wrong.”

  “You only did what I asked,” Harley said.

  Layla glanced up at me. “I… I’m sorry I scared you. If I could take it all back…”

  Harley started pulling me toward the house. “It’s okay, Layla. I got this. Go inside before the storm gets any worse.”

  Still confused, but not liking the sick feeling and the weakness in my knees, I broke away from Harley’s hold. “What the fuck is going on? Why is she alive? Why didn’t you tell me she was alive?”

  “Let me explain,” Harley began, but I could see it in his eyes. There was so much shame. So much fucking shame!

  “Did you fake her death?” I turned to see Layla walking quickly back to the pool house. “Why would you do such a thing?”

  The memories of that awful morning came flooding in like a damn tsunami. Layla had been covered in blood lying lifeless on the floor. And if she hadn’t been dead, why wouldn’t she have helped me from—

  No.

  No!

  “Was this all some sort of sick game?”

  Harley closed the distance between us and grabbed my upper arms. “Let’s go inside out of this weather, and I’ll explain everything.”

  I shoved him hard so I could break away from his touch. “No! Tell me now. What the fuck is going on? Tell me now!”

  The wind picked up even more as if jealous that my rage was more powerful than it. Harley shook his head, put his hands in his pockets, and sighed so deeply that I could hear it even over the sounds of the storm.

  “Yes, it was all a sick game.” His locked eyes on mine felt like two hot pokers stabbing at my gut. “I’m so sorry, Marlowe.”

  “The kidnapping?” I asked.

  “Part of the game.”

  “A game! A game! Were you part of my kidnapping? Did you know those men? Lukas?”

  “It was staged. Those men were people who owed me favors, and I paid them to do it. You were never in any real danger, but I just wanted you to believe you were. Nothing was going to happen to you. Layla was only pretending to be dead to add to your fear. The blood wasn’t real. The enemies weren’t real. None of it was real. It was just a warped and messed up role play that I seriously wish I’d never arranged.”

  Hunching over, needing to place my hands on my knees so I could somehow get some air to my lungs, I squeaked out, “Why? Why would you do something like that? Why?” I wheezed in and out as my vision blurred.

  “Because I’m a sick motherfucker. We were playing a game. Who’s Afraid of the Dark? I wanted to really scare you. You said you didn’t scare, and I wanted to prove you wrong. Maybe it was the challenge. I don’t know. This was part of my plan for the Tasting. I wanted to smell the real fear on you to get off. And with you, it would have been even better because I had to work so hard to achieve the fear. That was the intention, but it was so fucking wrong. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I see that now. I saw it the minute I saw your frightened body tied to that chair. But it was too late. I had fucked up. I’m a sick monster. I’m sorry.”

  I stood up with renewed strength as fury coursed thro
ugh my veins. “No! No! No!” I charged him and shoved him in the chest, forcing him to take a few steps backwards. “You don’t get to play the victim by calling yourself names. You don’t get to say sorry. You don’t get to do a fucking thing!” I screamed. “I get to call you a sick monster! How dare you! How could you? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “I have no excuse. I went too far.”

  “And then you led me to believe you saved me?” I added in disbelief. “Why? To continue the sick game? Did you want me to fall for you? Was that your plan? To make me fall in love with you so you could destroy me? Did you want to hurt me too?”

  He shook his head. “That wasn’t my plan at all. I didn’t think this through. I didn’t expect that you and I… that there would be so much more.”

  “Fuck you!” I screamed as bile built in the back of my throat. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare make it seem like we had something more. This was a dark and twisted game to you. So cruel. You are a bad man, Harley. Worse than I could have ever imagined.”

  “I know,” he agreed.

  “Were you behind the glass the entire time? With Lukas?”

  He nodded and looked down at the ground again in shame.

  “So you saw me? You saw how afraid I was? You just sat there while I begged? For hours I sat there fearing for my life. Fearing that I would be raped and tortured. How could you do that to me? How could you do that to anyone? You were there the entire time and could have ended it when you saw what it was doing to me, but you never did.”

  He said nothing as my rage surged to a higher degree as the memories of what happened forced their way through the wall I had recently built to hold them at bay. It was all fake, like a horror movie, yet I’d had no idea. I’d truly thought every single second of it was real. Even thinking back, I couldn’t see any hints of any kind that I now realized was part of the game. Everything had been so real. This was far beyond a kidnap and capture fantasy play.