Bitter Heat

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Bitter Heat Page 6

by Mia Knight


  “I do,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “You crave it?”

  “Yes,” she gasped as he fucked her forward.

  He hauled her back onto his cock, and her toes curled. He grabbed her by the hair and yanked as he changed position, drilling down and making her eyes cross.

  “No one will ever give it to you the way you need it.”

  When he bit her neck again, she cried out as he pumped his hips. He released her hair and grabbed her by the shoulders to hold her in place as he fucked her. She squirmed beneath him and fell flat on her stomach when he came and used his considerable strength to lodge himself as deep as possible. He panted into her hair before he dropped his face beside hers.

  Her body was a trembling, throbbing mess, but it felt damn good. It had been years since she had been so thoroughly wrecked. Her eyes drooped when he rolled off her. She moaned in sleepy complaint as he pulled her against his chest and spooned her from behind.

  “You feed my demons,” he rasped.

  “You created mine.”

  He introduced her to the darker spectrum of sex, and she’d taken to it with boundless enthusiasm and ease. Being used soothed something broken and lost inside her.

  His hand coasted over her body, and she arched lazily into his touch. She let her mind float in this alternate universe. There was no time here, no consequences. Only the basic needs of pleasure, hunger, and warmth.

  “I always wondered what I’d do when I caught up with you,” he said as he stroked her skin. “You never do what I expect.”

  “Good. I wouldn’t want anyone to think they have me pegged.”

  His hand splayed over her stomach. “You never remarried.”

  “No.”

  He kissed the side of her neck. “I’m sure you had offers.”

  “Sure.” Being a Hennessy, even an illegitimate one, ensured an endless supply of suitors wanting to get their hands on her father’s money.

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “They want my name, not me.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yes.”

  She hovered on the edge of sleep but didn’t succumb. Her mind was cloudy but still chugging along. She enjoyed the intense heat from the fire and imagined she was lying on a beach getting a tan instead of in a remote cabin in the middle of a snowstorm.

  She watched the flames devour the wood blocks. She was the wood. He was the flame. After this, they would be ash.

  “Was it all worth it?” she asked quietly.

  The raw fucking had its desired effect. She was drained of all emotion, which left her clearheaded enough to examine their catastrophic relationship objectively without her heart interfering.

  “What?” he asked.

  “The long hours, the nights of no sleep… Your face was on the cover of Forbes a couple of months ago and now Business Weekly. You made it. Are you satisfied?”

  “No.”

  No hesitation in his response.

  She rested her cheek against his bicep and sighed. “It will never be enough.” She hesitated before she said, “Dad had three strokes. He almost killed himself trying to be the best.”

  “He’s a legend.”

  “Is that what you’re striving for?” It seemed like such an empty goal, but she had grown up around people like Roth her whole life. They were chasing something intangible. Once they reached one goal, they immediately moved onto the next. No celebrations, no breaks, no life. She saw her father suffer in the end. Despite her feelings toward Roth, she didn’t want the same for him. “People become legends only when they’re dead.”

  “But their legacies live on.”

  “You’re just like him.”

  He tensed. “I’m not like Maximus.”

  She ignored his denial. “We were destined to fail.”

  “No.”

  “I was engaged—”

  “An arranged marriage.”

  “It’s expected. That’s what my sisters have, and they’re happy.”

  “You weren’t.”

  Roth had introduced something to her she didn’t know she’d been missing. She followed the path her father had laid out for her: private schools, college, major, and even who she would marry. It was expected that during her summer and holiday breaks, she would be at Hennessy & Co, observing and learning. She hadn’t been unhappy until she met Roth. He made her feel brave, rebellious, and adventurous. She tossed her morals and fears into the wind and dived headlong into a torrid affair with another man’s ring on her finger. She wasn’t thinking about consequences, only of herself and what she wanted, and it ended in disaster for all of them. She lost her family and sense of self. Roth lost his businesses and was forced overseas where he worked like a madman to rebuild what he lost. Her father took a huge financial blow when her broken engagement shattered his partnership with Parker Baldwin who he had been friends with for decades. All of them paid a price, and for what?

  “I was content with what I had and where I was going. Once I graduated, Ford and I would marry. I would quit Hennessy & Co once I got pregnant. That’s another thing you and my dad agreed on. I wasn’t performing the way he wanted me to in the company, so he thought it was best I became a mother. At least then I would be useful.”

  “He’s a fucker.”

  “Like you said, it’s about legacies. Marrying Ford would have strengthened Dad’s ties with the Baldwins, but the broken engagement nearly crippled the company instead. Even though Dad disowned me, his relationship with Parker was never the same.” She sighed. “I don’t know why I am the way I am.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

  She reached back and patted his bristled cheek. “You’re sweet.”

  “I’m not.”

  “No, you aren’t,” she agreed before she withdrew her hand. “But that was nice of you to say.”

  “It’s the truth.” His arms tightened around her. “You wouldn’t have been happy married to Ford.”

  “He’s a good man.”

  “You’d be bored out of your mind.”

  Maybe, but they would never know.

  “Tell me about the books.”

  She was too relaxed to go on the defense. “You were in London. I just graduated from college and couldn’t get a job because Dad was being an ass… You told me to pursue writing full-time, so I did. I wrote about us. I published the first book under Thalia Crane, and it was a hit. I couldn’t wait to tell you. I used my money from the book to go to London and…” Her voice trailed off as the memories began to surface.

  I don’t know if this is worth it.

  The echo of his cold voice uttering those words made her stiffen. Even as she gathered herself to roll away, his hand went to her pussy. When she gripped his wrist to pull him away, his marauding fingers rubbed expertly.

  “No tomorrows. Feel me,” he murmured.

  Her breath hitched as he sucked on her pulse.

  “I …” She tried to gather her thoughts, but they slipped away as quickly as they came.

  He pushed her onto her back while he lay on his side. One large thigh slipped between hers and draped her leg over his, giving him unlimited access. She stared up at the open beam ceiling as he rubbed her clit, kissed her neck and massaged her breast. Damn, he was good. It didn’t take much time for her body to ignite for him. She grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled.

  “Do me,” she snarled.

  He obeyed, lifting her thigh and sliding his big dick inside her. He rocked slowly. The angle proved to be more than she could handle. She begged him to hurry, but he kept his pace infuriatingly slow until she climaxed, and even after, he kept it up while she mewled and tried to go back to sleep.

  “I’m tired,” she grumbled.

  He kissed her jaw. “I don’t mind fucking you while you sleep.”

  “Hurry up.”

  “I’m taking my time. This.” He pushed deep, and she gasped. “Feels too good to stop.”

  It seemed to go on
forever. She gave herself up to it and couldn’t believe it when he pushed her over into one more climax and finally came with her. He tossed an arm over her and tucked his face against hers.

  “What time is it?” she asked in a raspy voice.

  “Five.”

  “I should get up,” she said but made no move to do so.

  “It’s still snowing. I’ll drive out and check the road in an hour or two. Sleep.”

  Chapter 5

  She woke on her side with the fire at her back. She opened one eye. Sunlight poured into the cabin, marking a brand-new day. She was alone on the nest of blankets. Bracing for the pain she was sure to feel, she sat up. There was no sound in the house, but she wasn’t alarmed. She used the couch for support as she slowly got to her feet and wrapped one of the stiff blankets around her. On her way to the bathroom, she paused in front of the large wall of glass to stare at the world blanketed in a sparkling, untouched white. The wind had stopped, and a blue sky unmarred by any clouds stretched over the white mountain range. It was like the night from hell never happened. Looking down at her bare feet, which were toasty warm, she swore she would never take central heating for granted again.

  Once in the bathroom, she stepped beneath the steaming spray and washed it all away. She was freakishly calm. Roth accomplished what nature hadn’t been able to do. He refocused her attention on something tangible and carnal and emptied her so she could start anew.

  Though the tiny mirror was too small to show anything but her face, she felt every mark on her body. He had used her well and made good on his promise because she could still feel him. She borrowed Kaia’s fluffy robe and was on her way to the loft when she felt an unpleasant draft. Apparently, the loft still wasn’t heated. Clothes weren’t vital at the moment, so she detoured to the kitchen and popped aspirin while she looked for something to eat. She decided to make a grilled cheese sandwich and was pleased to find a stash of tomato soup as well.

  As she turned on the stove to heat the pan, she glanced at the microwave, which was flashing zeroes. She went in search of her purse and pulled out her phone, which she had turned off before her flight to Colorado. When she turned it on, a flood of texts, emails, and voicemails greeted her. She ignored all of that and focused on the time, 8:30. She dialed the hospital to check on Kaia and was promptly told they couldn’t release any information since she wasn’t a relative. She hung up and tried to call Roth before she realized she didn’t have his number.

  “Shit.”

  As butter sizzled in the pan, she nuked the tomato soup and listened to the first voicemail.

  “Girl, I’m going to plant a tracking device in your ass,” Sunny drawled.

  Her lips twitched as she put the security coordinator she inherited from her father on speaker as she pulled dishes from the cabinets.

  “You take too many risks. You can’t do that anymore. It’s not safe.” Sunny sighed. “I know you need time, but you can’t take off like that. You ditched them at a boutique and then turned off your phone so we couldn’t track you? Do you know who you are? Dammit, Jas, you’re going to cost me my job. Lyle’s been on my ass since you disappeared. He fired me, by the way, so thanks for that.”

  Jasmine rolled her eyes. She would deal with Lyle when she got back.

  “I hope you’re okay. Let me send at least one guy to you. Or better yet, let us pick you up. Call me back.”

  If it wasn’t for her father’s death tossing her back into the spotlight, there would be no need for bodyguards. Not only was she trying to cope with her father’s death, but she also had security in her face asking her for a daily schedule. She felt suffocated and trapped, which was why she ran to Colorado for a damn break.

  Not surprisingly, the next voicemail was from Lyle, her brother-in-law.

  “I don’t know where you are, but when you come home, I’m going to beat the living daylights out of you,” Lyle snapped. “Fuck, Minnie, this isn’t a game, and you can’t take off anymore. If you’re emotional or whatever, go see a therapist or go to a fucking spa. Don’t take off without telling us. You can’t even shoot me a fucking text? I’m in fucking Amsterdam. I’m up to my ass in meetings. You don’t think I have more important shit to worry about? Fuck.”

  She could hear voices and ringing phones in the background and imagined him pacing as he spoke to her.

  “Colette told me about Max’s will and how she reacted. I didn’t know. We need to have a family meeting.” He sighed. “Call me back the minute you get this. I’m worried about you, you little shit. I love you.”

  She was a teenager when her oldest sister Colette married Lyle. He was from the right family, a tycoon in his own right, and a brasher version of her father. But, unlike her father, family meant something to Lyle. Even while they were estranged, Lyle kept in touch with her. He wasn’t afraid of her father and was one of the few who knew about Thalia Crane and was proud as fuck of her. He had an appreciation for art that was lost on her sisters.

  Deciding to take pity on him, she called as she bit into her sandwich. He picked up in the middle of the first ring.

  “I’m going to kill you.”

  She munched loudly in his ear and said nothing.

  “What the fuck is that?”

  She grinned. Nothing like a big brother to make her want to act like a bratty younger sister. “Hello to you too.”

  “Where the hell are you?”

  “I’m still in the States.”

  “You know you put us through hell.”

  She doubted her sisters cared that much, but she didn’t feel like arguing. “I’m fine.”

  “Stop saying that. We all know you aren’t. How the fuck can you be after what he dumped on you?”

  “Well, I am now.” A night of dirty sex could do miracles on one’s outlook on life. “I’ll be back in New York soon.”

  “How soon?”

  “Sometime today, I think? I’m not sure yet.”

  “How can you not know—?” He stopped himself because he didn’t want to know the answer. “Fine. Do we need to brace ourselves for anything?”

  She flipped a sandwich in the pan. “Like what?”

  “Whether you shaved your head, got a face tattoo, or decided to get drunk and strip in a public place?”

  “No.”

  Roth wasn’t one to kiss and tell. No one would find out about this. Once they left, they would cease to exist for one another. He would go back to being king of the business world, and she would go back to being an anonymous writer.

  “Colette and I will host a family dinner tonight. We should talk before you run off to the country.”

  He knew her so well. “Fine.”

  “I’ll see you tonight.”

  He never failed to close a deal. “Fine.”

  She hung up and propped her hip on the counter as she dipped her sandwich in soup. The food settled her stomach and made her feel human again. When her father passed, she put her life on hold and hadn’t picked it up since. Her desire to write had been snuffed out along with her ability to care about anything. After making such a life-changing decision for her father, she had been terrified to make any others, so she hadn’t and stayed in limbo. Sparring with Roth snapped her out of her catatonic state and roused her fighting spirit. By simply telling her she made the right call, Roth alleviated the weight she’d been carrying around for weeks. He didn’t absolve her of all guilt—no one could do that—but she could come to grips with the fact she had obeyed her father’s wishes, and that was that.

  She had survived Roth. She had some battle wounds, but they were the delicious kind that would fade. Now, she wouldn’t have to look over her shoulder or worry about running into him again in the future. If they bumped into one another, she was sure Roth would be civil.

  She kicked the last sandwich out of the pan and was drinking tea when she noticed a strange glimmer in the air. She crept toward the window and looked up at the cloudless sky as silver particles drifted down like confetti onto t
he untouched, sparkling snow. She was so focused on the strange phenomenon that she didn’t notice a figure coming toward her until he passed right in front of her face. She leaped back from the window with a stifled shriek before she recognized Roth. He was bundled up and carrying a rifle with an ease that disconcerted her. He shuffled through the deep snow and came around to the front door. She went to the kitchen entrance and watched as he entered, tracking snow into the house. She wrapped the robe tighter around herself. Just looking at him made her feel cold. He propped the rifle in the corner and dusted off his wool jacket.

  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s with the gun?”

  “A precaution. They’re just starting to clear the roads. We should be able to leave in two hours.”

  “Did you call the hospital?”

  “They said she’s doing good.”

  “Great.” She hesitated, and then asked, “Is it just me or is it snowing glitter?”

  “It’s called diamond dust, light reflecting off ice crystals. It happens on sunny days when the temperature dips into the negatives.”

  Her gaze went back to the window. She wanted to get a closer look, but she wasn’t about to leave the warm cabin. “It’s amazing.”

  “Not when you’re walking around in it.” He ran his hand through his damp hair. “You cooked something?”

  “I made grilled cheese sandwiches and warmed up some soup.”

  When she padded back into the kitchen, she heard the sound of his heavy footfalls behind her. As she reached for another plate, two arms caged her against the counter and a large body pressed against her back.

  “Night’s over, Roth,” she said quietly as he buried his face in her wet hair.

  “You smell clean,” he murmured.

  “I showered.”

  “I prefer you dirty.”

  His hands cupped her ass before they traveled around to the loosely tied sash. When his hand slipped beneath her robe, she jumped, knocking his head backward. He swore as she whirled around.

  “Your hands feel like ice! You didn’t wear gloves?”

  He glared at her. “If I had gloves, I’d fucking wear them.”

 

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