I'm actually interested in not just Elizabeth's body (which is perfection by the way), but in who she is and who she wants to be, which is some brand new shit for me. Unfortunately though, I am highly interested in a woman who Joseph has made crystal clear is off limits to me. He made sure of that tonight when he called me into the home office.
Hence my shitty mood all night.
"I have never interfered in your personal life Roman, but you're my son, and I know you like the back of my hand. Something's off and if I find out that you are screwing with Elizabeth's head in any kind of way, be assured that I'll cut yours off. She is Juliette's niece. She's a sweet kid. And while she's under my roof, I want you to find out what's going on with her, and then protect every single hair on her head. Including from you."
"I don't know where this is coming from, Joseph, but you're way off base."
I lied through my teeth.
"She had a falling out with her landlord. I took care of it, and I've been watching her like you asked."
With my tongue.
"Ask Juliette."
She might have heard me make Elizabeth come like a champion.
I decided not to tell Joseph about Elizabeth's boyfriend and the attack. I think that I need to do some more digging, and the old man only needs to know details on a need to know basis. Especially now that he's suspicious.
"Good, because I've made a big decision, and I don't want to regret it."
"What decision?"
"I want to retire from the business and start traveling more with Juliette. I'm going to hand over everything to you. That is if you're ready."
I was fucking stunned.
Never in a million years did I believe that Joseph would ever hand his business over to me. I'm not sure that I even wanted it, but I've come to terms that what I want is not the point. I'm already knee deep in this life, and I've done so much crap over the years to build it to this point, that I doubt I'd really know what else to do with myself. This is what I know. This is what I do well. I'm a thug. I'm a monster.
"So how would this work?"
"So you're on board?"
"Yes."
"Okay then, we'll start by me handing The Lotus and the other clubs over to you. I bought them because it will be much easier to control media access to our clients if they use our properties to party in, to get drunk in, to see their mistresses in. Each club will have a strict policy of no cell phone use. So no pictures and no social media posting or check-ins will be permitted. We can block most cell service within the club walls. If they need to use a phone, they'll use the house phone. Celebrities will love it. It's old school. It's exclusive. It's private. You'll eventually have to acquire a few spots in LA and Miami to cast a wide net, but at least we already have New York and Philadelphia on lock."
Using two fingers, my father slid a thick accordion-styled folder across his desk with several papers inside including a ten-page contractual agreement already signed by him and notarized. I picked it up and read it with glazed eyes. I wasn't processing any of the words on the pages. As crazy as it sounds, all I could think about was how this deal between Joseph and I was effectively eliminating any possibility of me ever exploring this thing with Elizabeth (not that she was necessarily having any of it, but a guy can hope). This was my father's way of saying that I was back in his good graces, that he trusted me, and that there was no room for error. The door to anything happening with her would be ceremonially closed shut if I added my John Hancock to the signature line of the last page.
I signed it anyway.
Yet as I watch her right now with another man's hands on her body, I can't help but feel like a man possessed. No matter how sick this shit is. No matter the risk of Joseph finding out. The truth is, is that I'm not even sure I have it in me to stop myself.
She's mine.
"Whatcha doing?" Jade asks curiously while standing behind me. I didn't even see her walk over. That's how off my game I am.
"Nothing."
"Staring down your cousin's throat while she's dancing with the cutie is definitely something. You either want to kill her or him," she says apparently amused.
I turn my head slowly to look down at the tiny terror.
"Mind. Your. Fucking. Business."
I stick my hand in my front pocket and dig out a couple of M&Ms.
"You're a sick boy my friend. I hope you know what you're doing. This is Juliette's niece right?"
After popping the candy in my mouth, I scrub my face several times with the palm of my hand. Gah! Jade knows me too well. There's no point in trying to hide it.
"I need you to do something,” I say to her.
"What?"
"First, shut up. Second, I need you to investigate Elizabeth's ex-boyfriend for me. I'll text you the deets later. Third, right now I need you to go over there and dance with the pretty boy."
"Uh ... he seems to have a partner already, asshat."
Typically I'd enjoy the back and forth snarky banter between Jade and I, but tonight it's grating my nerves. Everything is grating my nerves.
"Just do it, Jade."
"Is that an order?" She asks incredulously. The lines between friendship and boss/employee have always been blurred but respected between us.
"Obviously."
"Fine then!" she huffs and stomps away.
I don't like that I have to send Jade on this type of ridiculous mission, but Elizabeth won't look at me. I need her to look up at me. Maybe if she did, she'd stop gyrating her ass around the dance floor and putting on a show for good ole' boy. Maybe if she saw my deadly serious face, she'd stop, so that this very strong desire I have to hurt him will dissipate, because I'm itching to smack that grin off of his face.
I watch as Jade orders a glass of wine and a beer from the bar and then two-steps her way over to Elizabeth and pretty boy with drinks in hand. She hands Elizabeth the glass and she smiles back in gratitude and then hands the dude the beer. She dances with them while talking their ears off about God knows what, and the next thing I know Jade ends up in between them dancing primarily with the swimmer. His eyes seem to be drawn to Jade's boobs, which are sitting up high and proud in her tight t-shirt.
Good. I've identified a weakness. He likes tits.
Elizabeth whispers something in Jade's ear and walks away. That's when Jade looks up towards my direction and gives me the mission completed nod. Sloan and her friend Tiny seem to still be completely engrossed in one of Cutter's many stories about the celebrities he's met (he's got a big ass mouth), so I go downstairs and cut Elizabeth off before she can make her way back up to our seating section. She's walking with her head down and doesn't see me at first, but stops when she recognizes my boots.
"I want to talk to you,” I say.
"Now?"
"Right now. Walk with me to my office. It's just at the back of the hallway there."
I see the hesitance in her face. She's contemplating what she should do, as if this was a life or death decision. But I guess my approach may make it appear as if whatever I have to say is life or death. I've been told that even when I smile, thanks to the scar on my face, I still look like I want to rip somebody's head off.
"It'll take five minutes,” I assure her.
She looks back over at the swimmer. His eyeballs still stuck to the front of Jade's shirt.
"Umm ... ok."
Relief settles in my gut that she's agreed. Another unexpected emotion.
"So what's up?"
Elizabeth makes sure to stand at least five feet away from me, as she takes a nervous gulp of wine waiting for me to speak. I've never noticed before, but her eyelashes are long, black, jut straight down and do an amazing job of highlighting her almond shaped eyes. She's blinking a little more than usual. I figure it's because I make her a little nervous on top of the fact that the alcohol is starting to hit her bloodstream. She's had a large lemon drop shot and now a glass of wine, which she's drinking like it's grape juice.
I take a fe
w steps closer to her as she backs up further into a metal desk. I need to be near her, and if I don't keep a handle on it, I'll be inside her next.
"You look so serious Masterson." She looks jittery. "What is wrong with you? You've been in a crap mood all night."
I take the glass out of her hand, lean closely behind her, and place it down on the desk. That's when I catch a whiff of her hair, which smells like pure sunshine, and my dick gets brick hard. I wrap one of my hands loosely around the base of her warm throat feeling for her pulse. I can tell that she's holding her breath. It's intoxicating that I have this affect on her. She does the same to me. Heaven must be like this.
"Stop dancing for him," I say to her.
"For who?" She asks on an exhale with a look of feigned confusion across her face.
"You know who."
"Jagger?"
I cringe at the fact that she's even speaking his name out loud in my presence, and I'm amazed at how my body responds to hearing it. I want to kiss her so hard right now, that she'll never think or speak that name again.
"Yes,” I hiss. "Him."
"What are you doing Roman?" she asks hesitantly. I recognize the fear mixed with want in her eyes. I know it well.
"I don't fucking know,” I admit.
I continue with my exploration of Elizabeth, and pull her even closer as I rub my thumb leisurely across her jugular vein. I can feel the blood pulsing through it. She's staring at me now like a deer caught in the headlights, and it's turning my sick ass on.
After I made her come for me earlier, I was rendered speechless. I love pussy like the next man, but I could write sonnets about the way hers yielded to me. The addictive scent. The incredible taste. The power of her orgasm clenching onto my fingers for dear life. It was all I could do not to plunge my dick inside her next. So not two seconds after she came, I abruptly told her to get ready for the club, and I left the room to get my head together. She probably thinks I'm a psycho. I told her I don't come back for seconds to any woman, yet here I am again.
I fucking want seconds.
I lower my head down to her lips slowly, because I very much want to taste her right now, but I want to allow her a moment to make the decision. I'm always taking from women, dictating how the exchange of power between us will play out, but with Elizabeth I want something else. I want her total and utter submission, but I need her to want me too. If I'm going to slip down the rabbit hole, I need to know that she's falling right along with me.
Her tongue slides between her lips, and I am relieved that her body is finally relaxing. Maybe she does want this. I slide my hand around the side of her neck while I pull her in further and take her mouth. I softly bite her bottom lip, then lick the top, then once I feel and hear an almost indiscernible sound come from the base of her throat, I take that as an invitation to explore further inside of her mouth.
I am very familiar with the push and pull of a woman's body, her mind and her desire, and it's obvious that Elizabeth is torn with whether to give herself over again to whatever this is that's drawing us towards each other. She is totally in her head when it's clear as hell that her body should be leading the charge.
"I can't decide which is my favorite,” I say in a voice so foggy and deep, that I don't even recognize it myself.
She breathes heavily. "What are you talking about?"
"Which part of your body. Your lips. Your eyes. Your ass. Or maybe these."
I start to brush my thumbs gently across her nipples and feel as they quickly pebble.
"Masterson–" she pleads.
Shit, I love it when she says my name like that. All breathy and soft, making my dick rigid and straining to burst through the zipper of my jeans. She's wearing a black strapless top, which I pull down underneath her breasts. I feel a sensation straight to my cock when I reveal her amazing tits. I go back to rubbing her nipples gently back and forth with my thumbs and as I feel her body tensing with desire, I pinch both of her nipples between my thumb and forefingers with just enough firm pressure that she gasps and leans forward towards me.
I know that I could push things further right now, but since I'm crossing all sorts of lines that could put me in deep shit a second time in one day, I've decided that I need to slow this down. I need to make sure that when it does happen between us, if it happens, that she is practically begging for it.
I need her to be sure that she wants this as much as I do.
"What do you want right this moment, Duchess?"
"I ... don't–"
"You don't what?"
"I don't know,” she exhales.
"Do you want me inside you?"
"Ummm–"
"Do you want me to stop?"
I'm still rubbing and tweaking her nipples. A few moments longer and I think I could manage to have her fall apart for me just by my handling of then. The faces she's making are a mixture of pain and pure pleasure. But like I said, I want her to steer the ship this time.
"Yes."
If I was a two-year-old kid right now, I'd be stomping my feet in protest. That one word feels like a huge bucket of ice water dumped over the top of my head. I know by her body language that she doesn't mean it, but immediately I stop everything.
I pull her top back up and step back. She was right to stop this anyway. She deserves better than me taking her on top of a hard metal desk in a nightclub office. She deserves better than me period.
Fuck! I'm pissed. I'm not usually the guy who whines, "why me" about life. Hell I realize that I'm one of the lucky ones. I made it out of my neighborhood, I live in a luxury penthouse apartment, I drive a hundred thousand dollar car, I'm good at my job, and I have no problem getting whatever woman I want on any given day of the week. I have no right to be angry or ungrateful about a thing; so the fuck what.
I'm still pissed.
Why does Elizabeth have to be my damn cousin? Why is Joseph watching me like a hawk? Why did I sign that damn contract? Why is she flirting with this swimmer? And why for the first time in my life, have I found myself in the middle of a situation that I cannot fix my way out of.
"So … the swimmer. You'll stop dancing for him right?"
"I'm not dancing for anyone, Masterson. We were dancing together."
"Well let me put this another way. I don't want to see you two dancing together again."
"Or what? You'll bury him in the backyard until he grows?" she asks sarcastically.
"We were kids. When are you going to let that go?" I smirk.
"You're still the same badass kid you were back then."
"I'm even worse now. Try me."
Please try me.
"I like Jagger."
I think she wants me to pummel him.
"What do you mean you like him? I brought you out tonight to meet my friends and see what I've done so far with the club. Not hang out with Captain America. He wasn't invited. Like him on your own time."
She looks at me pensively for a moment.
"What happened earlier tonight and just now can't happen again, Roman. You know that right?"
I'm beginning to hate when she calls me by my first name. I'm starting to see that when she says it, it isn't a good sign. Masterson is the man she met a few weeks ago in the club. That name rolls off of her tongue like warm butter and makes my dick stand up and beg. That's who she calls out for when my mouth is in between her legs. Roman is the name of her fucking cousin. The boy who buried her in the yard when she was six. The guy who doesn't stand a chance with her.
"I'm not sure I can promise that," I say in complete honesty but with regret.
"You're insane. We're cousins, Roman. Juliette and Joseph would freak. My parents would freak. Hell, you avoided me for weeks when you found out who I was."
"Just ditch the swimmer, or I'll kick his ass, Elizabeth." I bark out in frustration. Of course I know she's right. Everything she's saying is right, but my dick seems to be in complete disagreement.
"You're a complete ass, Roman!"
Not ten fucking minutes later I find Elizabeth giggling and sitting on Jagger's lap, and just a moment before I was about to drop kick the swimmer in his windpipe, I feel two sets of meaty hands pulling me back from the brink of a night spent in police custody.
Camden and Cutter.
Absolute fun snatchers.
20
Elizabeth
I'M ON THE PHONE TALKING to Sloan, with my feet propped up on a pillow, eating a bowl of microwave popcorn and sipping on a glass of ice-cold sweet tea that Juliette made. My brain is completely fried, so I've decided to stop working on my database for the rest of the night and catch up with my bestie instead.
"He's cock blocking and I want to know why hooker!" Sloan asks with an accusatory tone.
It's been over a week since we all went out to The Lotus, and Roman has been by the house every single day keeping an eye on me (I assume), but acting like a Grade A asshole in the process. He's been meeting with Joseph about whatever it is they talk about with the door closed. Eating a scrumptious dinner prepared by Juliette every night. Working out like a maniac in the home gym (I spied on him once or twice). Never once coming by my room to say hello or bothering to ask me if I wanted a little dinner (selfish bastard). Not talking to me at all. All because I'm the one with the level head. The one who stopped things before they went too far. If I had listened to him and left Jagger alone that night, he would have thought that I was cosigning whatever this was going on between us. And I'm not. I can't.
While I usually tell Sloan everything, I have conveniently omitted all details in regards to how I've been allowing Roman to feel me up every chance he gets. If she told me something like that about her cousin, I'd probably send her to a shrink. There's just no excuse.
There are millions of single men out there. Why on earth do I have to be so attracted to a man whom I'm related to? Why does he have to be so incredibly sexy? Why does his smart mouth turn me on? Why does he know how to work my body into a frenzy like no one else? Why does he make me feel completely safe when I'm with him? In fact it's just dawned on me that I haven't once thought about my assault since he's been around.
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