Bitter Heat

by Mia Knight

  A hand shook her awake. She groaned and slapped it away. She was warm and comfy, and that was all that mattered.

  “Jasmine.”

  That voice jerked her out of a dreamless sleep and back to nasty reality. She opened one eye and saw Roth’s angry mug hovering over her.

  “We land in fifteen minutes.”

  Damn, it wasn’t a bad dream. She sat up and touched her hair, which was a mess. The migraine was gone, but she was so tired, she felt hung over. Weeks of little sleep had finally caught up to her, and she needed her bed STAT. She rubbed at her eyes, then remembered she was wearing makeup, so she staggered to the bathroom. The too bright mirror showed that her mascara was smudged, and she had definitely tossed and turned during her nap. After doing the best she could to make herself presentable and using one of the tiny bottles of mouthwash to freshen up, she felt a little better when she emerged. On her way back to her seat, she saw Kaia peering out the window. Seeing Kaia alert and active gave her gloomy mood a boost.

  She paused beside Roth and held out her hand. “My phone.”

  She felt Sarai’s curious gaze as Roth pulled her phone out of his breast pocket and handed it over. She turned on her phone as the plane began its descent. She ignored all the chirping noises as she texted Lyle to let him know she had landed. As the plane taxied, she dialed Sunny.

  “You’re killing me,” Sunny said.

  “I know. I just landed. Can you pick me up from—”

  The phone was snatched from her hand. Before she could unbuckle her seat belt, Roth told Sunny her services wouldn’t be needed and hung up.

  “What the hell is your problem?” she snapped.

  “We have transportation waiting,” he said.

  “Fine. Go on your way. Don’t let me hold you back.”

  “We’re going to drop you off.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  He placed her phone back in his breast pocket. She shot up from her seat, ready to pummel him with a pillow when the flight attendant came up to her.

  “You feel better, miss?”

  She swallowed her rage. “Uh, yes, thank you,” she said hoarsely.

  She stepped aside to make way for Kaia who needed to deplane first. As she gathered her things and made sure nothing had fallen out of her purse, Roth walked out with Johan and Mo on his heels, leaving her with Sarai who hefted a large work bag over her shoulder.

  The smirk on the other woman’s face caught her eye. “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Jasmine!”

  Roth’s shout set her teeth on edge. Sarai’s smirk turned into a full-blown smile that pissed her off. She shot Sarai a scathing look before she walked off the plane to find two Bentleys waiting for them. She ignored the car Roth stood next to and tried to board the one with Kaia, Johan, and her nurse, but Sarai took the last seat.

  “Jasmine, let’s go,” Roth said impatiently.

  She stalked up to him as the other car pulled away. “Give me my phone now.”

  “Get in.”

  “Ms. Hennessy?”

  She broke the staring contest with Roth to find Mo holding the back door open for her. Fine. The faster she got in, the quicker she would get home and away from him once and for all. She settled in the back and sank into the buttery leather seats as Mo got behind the wheel. She was about to relax when Roth got into the back seat with her.

  “Sit in the front,” she ordered.

  He ignored her and answered his phone. At least there was a massive console between them. She was tempted to turn on the TV on the back of Mo’s seat, but she was too tired to fiddle with the buttons.

  This was the longest one-night stand in history. She closed her eyes and tried to block him out. Not much longer… They hit traffic (no surprise), and when Mo asked for her address, she glanced at Roth who was on his third call. She gave it reluctantly. Her leg began to bounce as they neared her Chelsea apartment. If they could make it a little farther, she could hop out of the car and walk the last few blocks…

  Her phone landed in her lap. She glanced at Roth who seemed to be absorbed in his call. She unlocked her phone and saw that she had forty-two voicemails, over one hundred missed calls, and two hundred unread texts. Fuck. She checked Lyle’s message first. He told her they would be expecting her in two hours. She glanced at the barely moving traffic and shrugged. She’d arrive when she arrived. Her next message was to Sunny to let her know she’d be at her apartment in thirty minutes and would need transportation to Midtown, where both of her sisters lived.

  The bulk of her messages were from college friends or former acquaintances who were offering their condolences on her father’s passing and asking how she was doing. She didn’t answer because their act of sympathy was a ploy to get inside information on her father’s trust, which she and her sisters had been mum about. The public’s speculation about how Maximus had divided his billion-dollar fortune between his three daughters made her sick, so she hadn’t read a paper or been on social media since her father went into the hospital. Vigilant security kept most of the invasive paparazzi at bay, but that didn’t stop them from shouting offensive questions at her when they could. She had been dubbed the scandalous, wild Hennessy. She didn’t have a sex tape but breaking off her engagement with Ford Baldwin for a virtual unknown had amounted to the same thing. Despite her master’s degree in business, everyone assumed she was an airhead, and no one wanted to see her join her sisters at Hennessy & Co. Not that she cared. She knew what she gave up rights to seven years ago and was content with the path she had chosen. Everyone assumed she lived off her father because no one knew she had a writing career or that she was quite successful in her chosen field.

  Roth’s low rumble was getting on her nerves. When she cracked the window, noisy honking, people shouting at one another on the sidewalks, and construction site jackhammering instantly greeted her. She relaxed a little. They weren’t in a remote cabin in the mountains any longer, and she wasn’t dependent on him because Mother Nature decided to blow her icy rage across the state or because he had knowledge of generators when she didn’t. No. They were back in the city where there were cabs, stores, and witnesses if he tried anything. Not that he would. He was back to work the moment they landed. He was in his element—wheeling and dealing—just like her father.

  When Mo pulled up to the sidewalk in front of her apartment building, she sprang out of the Bentley. She was so relieved, she wanted to grab one of the stranger’s speed walking past and give them a hug. Mo pulled her suitcases from the trunk and set it on the sidewalk. She wasn’t pleased when Roth emerged from the back seat.

  “I got it!” she said as she reached for her things.

  Roth slung the duffel over one shoulder and grasped the handle of her blush-colored suitcase.

  “I don’t need your help,” she said and tried to pull the duffel from his shoulder.

  He pried her hand from the strap and towed her toward the building.

  “I swear to God, Roth, I’m going to—”

  She broke off as three men lounging against the wall ran forward with cameras. Oh, fuck. She turned her face away and heard car horns blast. Two more men ran across the street into traffic with their cameras held aloft, desperate to get a shot.

  “Ms. Hennessy, Ms. Hennessy! Did you vacation with some of the money you inherited?” someone shouted.

  “Is there anything you can tell us about your father’s will? Did he leave everything to your sisters? How does that make you feel?” another man said as he leaped in front of them.

  “Is that…?” one of the men asked.

  “It is. Mr. Roth, did you come back to the States now that Maximus Hennessy is dead? Did you come back to pick up where you two left off?”

  Roth pulled her beneath the shelter of his arm as Mo cleared a path to the door. The camera flashes and offensive questions were meant to rile them so the paparazzi could get a juicy shot. They jockeyed for position and even followed them into the
building. She kept her back to them until the elevator arrived, and Roth pushed her in. Mo kept the paparazzi in the lobby as the doors closed.

  “You live in a building without security? What the hell are you thinking?” Roth snapped.

  “I thought they would have lost interest by now,” she said as she slumped against the wall.

  “Where’s your security team?”

  “They’re on their way,” she said and shot him a hot glare. “They would have been here sooner if I had my phone.”

  The elevator stopped on her floor. She stepped out and turned to him.

  “You don’t have to come with me.”

  His hostile expression told her he wasn’t handing over the bags. She ground her teeth as she strode to her apartment and unlocked the door. She turned to him and held out her hands.

  “Thanks for all the fucks,” she said with a plastic smile. “I hope I don’t see you for another five years.”

  He bumped her aside and strode in.

  “You can’t come in here!” she bellowed.

  He slammed the door, and with a flick of his finger, locked the door. He dropped her duffel with a loud thump. The hungry gleam in his eyes made her heart leap into her throat.

  “Don’t you—”

  He clasped her face with both hands and yanked her forward. When their mouths collided, she slammed her hands against his chest and pushed, but she was no match for him. He backed her against a wall of exposed brick. He was kissing her with an intensity different from anything they shared in Colorado. He unzipped her jacket and grasped her tender breasts. She gripped his wrists and tugged desperately. She couldn’t let him take her over again. He allowed her to pull his hands down. She felt a moment of relief before his fingers undid her jeans.

  She ripped her mouth from his. “No, Roth.”

  He kissed her jaw and tugged down her turtleneck so he could get at her throat.

  “I’m not playing your game,” she said through clenched teeth.

  He bit her neck as he pulled her jeans down.

  “Fuck, Roth, stop!”

  She let out an outraged shriek as his hand dipped between her legs.

  “You can’t do this!”

  He pinned her to the wall with his shoulder, face less than an inch away. Her eyes watered with rage and need.

  “I’m doing it,” he said in a guttural voice.

  “Why?”

  “Because I need it.”

  He knelt and forced her legs to part as much as she could with her jeans around her knees. She tried to turn sideways to protect herself from him, but the steely grip on her thighs widened her stance to make room for him.

  “Please, Roth…”

  Her voice died as lust took over. The sight of him on his knees before her was a fantasy she never thought she’d see again. He closed his eyes as he feasted. He wasn’t going down on her so she could take him. He did it because he loved her taste. The ecstasy on his face made her hot and weak and stupid. When her thighs were quaking, he straightened. She closed her eyes against the sight of him. Even as self-loathing cascaded through her, she didn’t move as she heard the sound of his belt coming out of its loops or the rasp of his zipper. He cupped her ass and raised her to her tiptoes. As he slipped inside her, she bit back a moan. She wanted to spread her legs, but she couldn’t, not with her jeans around her ankle boots.

  “You fucked up, letting me get a taste of you again,” he breathed against her temple.

  She bared her teeth. “This is the last time.”

  His dark chuckle made her body erupt in goose bumps.

  “It is!”

  He slid in to the hilt and stayed there, forcing her to adjust to his size. Her pussy fluttered around him.

  “You feel that, princess? That’s you giving yourself to me.”

  Her neighbor across the hall opened his door. She stiffened, but Roth didn’t stop. He fucked her nice and slow as two men began to talk. It sounded like they were right outside her door, less than six feet from where Roth was fucking her.

  He was watching her, gauging every emotion that flittered across her face. She glared at him, hating him yet wanting this from him. His hands left her ass, allowing her skin to scrape against the brick with each thrust, adding more sensation to her overloaded senses.

  “Yes, my cat gave birth. Eight kittens. You want one?” a man asked just outside her door.

  “What colors do you have?” another man asked.

  “All kinds. You want to see?”

  “Want a kitty?” Roth whispered as she shifted restlessly against him.

  She reached up and dug her nails into the back of his neck. “No, I want you to finish me.”

  His eyes dropped to her lips. “Ask me nicely.”

  “Fuck you.”

  He linked their hands together and pinned them over her head. He crowded her, limiting her movements, as he sped up. The fact he was fucking her standing up with her legs clamped together made him feel bigger than ever. It was just too fucking good. He adjusted and hit her just right. She let out a strangled gasp. The voices in the hallway paused.

  “You want them to hear you?” Roth murmured.

  “I don’t care!” she said loudly, past caring about anything but her climax.

  She bucked against him and tipped her head back as she reached for bliss. She let out a desperate moan that no one would mistake for anything but a woman in the throes.

  “Roth!”

  Sensing she was close, he gave her what she needed, grinding her ass against the bricks hard to coax her overused body into another orgasm. She muffled her scream against his chest as he sped up, fucking her mercilessly until he spilled. She lost her breath as he sagged against her with his face buried in her hair. When he released her hands, they dropped to her sides, and for a moment, they stayed like that. There were no voices in the hallway. Either they had left, or they were in their apartments jacking off

  When her brain lurched back into gear, she shoved him. “Now leave.”

  Roth pulled out of her, causing his cum to slide down her leg and drip on her jeans, another reminder that he had no need for a condom because he was shooting blanks. Self-loathing and rage ripped through her.

  “Step back,” she ordered.

  His phone began to ring.

  “See, that’s the real world calling you. Bye.”

  As he stepped back, she yanked up her jeans with a grimace. Roth glanced at his phone before he pocketed it without answering. He zipped his pants up and slid a hand through his tousled hair.

  His eyes met hers. “I put my number in your phone. Use it.”

  She crossed her arms and jerked her chin at the door.

  He gave her a long, considering look. “You won’t be able to avoid me.”

  “Please leave,” she said.

  She didn’t think he was going to, but he finally did. When the door closed behind him, she leaped forward to slide the deadbolt. She looked through the peephole to make sure he really was gone before she rested her face against the door and screamed.

  Chapter 7

  The cavalry had arrived by the time she stepped out of the shower. She put on a robe and looked through the peephole before she let in four guards and Sunny. When the guards caught sight of her, they immediately averted their eyes while Sunny shook her head and pointed her back into the bedroom.

  “Your father would have a heart attack if he could see you right now,” Sunny said.

  Jasmine grunted as she snagged a Yoo-hoo from the fridge and went into her bedroom. She wasn’t entirely surprised when Sunny followed. She dried and styled her hair, then perched on a stool in front of the vanity.

  Sunny lounged in the open doorway. She was a black woman in her late sixties, a former Marine who had created her own security firm before she sold it. She spent a year on a cruise before she came out of retirement and became her father’s security coordinator. Dressed like a butler in a black pantsuit, she wore braids swirled into a fancy bun on her h
ead over six inches high.

  “You can’t stay here. It isn’t safe,” Sunny said.

  “I know.”

  “What’s that on your neck?”

  She yanked up the collar of her robe. “Nothing.” When Sunny started toward her, she held up both hands. “It’s nothing, I swear.”

  “Someone put their hands on you.”

  “Not without my permission.”

  Sunny cocked her head to the side. “You went to some BDSM resort or something?”

  She shrugged and tried to look casual. “Something like that.”

  Nearly freezing to death in the mountains was far from a resort, but the BDSM story was better than admitting she’d hooked up with her ex multiple times. Fuck. She glared at herself in the mirror as she began to apply her makeup. Her ego was bruised. The fact she had given in to him so easily sickened her. Had the past five years taught her nothing? She was a successful businesswoman in her own right, so why had she allowed him to—

  “Next time you want privacy to get your kink out, maybe I can hire some female guards so you won’t feel as self-conscious,” Sunny said.

  “No need.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m done.”

  Sunny snorted. “Sure. I know what you write.”

  Sunny was privy to her Thalia secret even though she had never read any of the books. Sunny got the gist, though, and kept her opinions about it to herself. Sunny was locked up so tight Jasmine couldn’t determine if she was gay, straight, or asexual. The woman never talked about partners or expressed any interest in either sex.

  “I mean, I won’t be taking off. I learned my lesson,” she amended.

  Sunny’s brows rose. “Is that right?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” she said as she finished applying her foundation. “After this, I’m going back to Tuxedo Park, so you don’t need to worry.”

  “It’ll be months before interest in you dies down,” Sunny said and then shrugged. “And maybe not even then.”

  Her rigid hand motions made her bronze eyeshadow a little heavier than she wanted, but she was going to go with it.