by L. J. Woods
We’re chasing my orgasm like real partners, Christian using the perfect pace, his hand digging into my skin and when I come, it’s just as hard as the last time. The entire place blurs, my teeth sinking into my lip. “So. Fucking. Good!”
My legs shake, my body quivering but that doesn't stop him. Christian keeps giving me his onslaught, fucking me at a hard, steady pace. I can feel him throbbing inside, my ass smacking on his thighs until he lets out a loud, rolling growl. “Fuuuck, Ray,” Christian groans into my ear. “Your punishment is my fucking satisfaction.” Twisting me around, he slams his lips back into mine and I’m so ready for round two.
Click!
That’s when the door opens.
“Oh!”
My eyes widen, head whipping to the fridge entrance. Christian pulls my body closer to him, blocking me from view of the chef. His eyes are wide too, locking on Christian before he covers his eyes. “Uh, sorry Mister Perez, I was looking for a … oh! A cucumber!"
Christian shuffles beside me and before I can stop him, he hands the chef the same cucumber that he just used … on me. The chef looks at the cucumber, then back at us before he closes the door, a muffled, “Thank you!” coming from the other side.
When Christian looks at me, it’s hard not to laugh, the way he scratches the back of his neck like he’s realizing what he did. “Yeah, I should’ve signed it.” That makes me laugh before his lips come to mine and the world blurs again. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
I shrug. “The chef didn’t seem to mind.”
He laughs. “Not because of that.” Pulling up his pants, he tosses me my skirt. “I knocked Matt’s tooth out.”
Despite Christian turning me on by that confession, he insists we get out of here. He follows my plan to leave through the kitchen but after getting in his car, we still have to fight the wall of paparazzi.
He doesn’t seem fazed, driving his car through the gate. But they’re more frantic this time, not so easily moved even though a Bugatti is pushing through them.
“Is it true you and Matt Hunter got into an altercation over your new girlfriend?” It’s the same paparazzi with her face pressed against the glass. Christian waves her off but she doesn't move. “Do you have anything to say for your actions?”
When I look over at Christian, his jaw clenches but in that same second, he reaches over and pulls me in for a kiss. The car lights up like we’re on the freaking sun and it’s not because of how his lips feel on mine.
The paps go crazy with their cameras, their flashes blinding. When he releases me with a pleased grin, Christian revs his engine. They move aside, and he takes us out of the swarm.
“Sending a message, Perez?” My body still buzzes from our Casino Night activities. From our talk. From our whole fucking connection and if I’m being super basic, I’m on cloud nine. I blame good sex. Mind-blowing sex.
He chuckles. “They wanted something and I gave it to ‘em.” We’re pulling onto the main road, Christian relaxed in his seat. “Show the paps you’re into a girl and it’s good for publicity. Better than knocking around an NHL star.”
While he’s saying he’s into me, I also hear something else. I take a moment. A breath. A beat. But it doesn’t go away before I blurt, “So you used me.”
While I expected it, tonight gave me all sorts of red flags. This life isn’t my life anymore. I much prefer crashing in front of the TV with hockey highlights and a beer than attending fancy parties with people I don’t care about. But this is his life and if he’s signing with the Bruins it will be his life for the unforeseeable future.
“Thought you like it when I use you.” His fingers climbing up my thigh makes me bite my lip and with him, I’m so fucked.
I'm distracted by everything when my stomach grumbles, loud enough for him to hear it over the music.
He chuckles, his fingers stopping at the hem of my skirt. “Hungry?”
Biting my lip, I look at his glistening eyes. “Maybe we should—”
“Don’t back out now, Loca.” Pulling my hand in his lap, he brings it to his lips, reminding me that the sweet Christian I know is still in there. Even though he fucks like an animal. “Let me take care of you.” A smile spreads across his face. “And I know just the place.”
Another extravagant mansion isn’t what I expect when I agree to Christian’s request.
It’s smaller than the last, villa-style with beautiful stone and wood features. But the hedge trimmed into a ‘B’ reminds me we’re still in Eden.
He doesn’t knock on the big wooden door before he enters, pulling me in behind him. Piles of designer bags meet us at the entrance of the earthy foyer before he lets out a, “Ma!”
My head whips towards him. “You brought me to your mom’s?”
“I promised I’d swing by after the party but since that didn’t happen, we're a little early.” Is he blaming me? He trips over a pair of red-bottomed heels scattered with the rest of the designer shoes by the door. “Besides, my mom makes the best empanadas in town.”
Stalling at the door, I’m not sure if now’s the time to meet his mom but before I can ask, a guy walks into the foyer with a silk robe. A woman’s loud laugh comes from behind him, Christian’s body stiffening.
Bianca Perez comes around the corner, as pretty as I remember, with long wavy brown hair and a face as bright as her son’s. She’s always looked way younger than her years and now is no different.
She stops in her path before another muscular man comes from behind her. “Mijo,” she says, pulling her robe tighter over her tits. Her eyes fall to me before she smiles. “Well, who is this?” She ushers the muscular men towards the door. One protests about his robe but she keeps pushing with long french nails.
Christian keeps his eyes on them with a look that says he’ll deck them out if they make the wrong move. The minute the door closes, Christian mutters something in Spanish before he asks, “Is that the caddy twins from the country club?”
“Was,” his mom says with confidence as Christian’s jaw ticks. “I thought you were coming after your party. You're early.”
He starts picking up the bags around him, putting them in a neat pile in a corner. “If you came instead of sleeping with guys half your age, you’d know we didn’t make it to dinner.”
“Nuh uh. Nope.” She waves him off. “I don’t want to be around your father or his childish little friends. No, I did my time.” Her eyes land on me again. “Now, introduce me, or are you gonna stand there like I didn’t train you with manners? Your father sure as hell didn’t.”
“Christian Perez.”
His name comes from around the corner but it sounds like it’s from a television, cheesy news music in the background. He walks over, pulling me with him as I give an apologetic smile towards his mom.
He pulls me into the stone and wood kitchen, decorated with copper fixtures before he lets my hand go.
His eyes widen at the screen. “Shit."
“Son of former Bruins goalie, Hugo Perez, was seen fleeing The Palace in Eden Gardens this evening with a girl who allegedly stole Matthew Hunter’s car.”
His mom comes into the room before the reporter clears her throat, standing in front of the golden gates. There’s a commotion behind her before she says, “My mistake. It seems the car has been recovered. That said, Perez and his new girlfriend, Rayne Rose, are still yet to be seen.”
“Fuuuck.” Christian leans against the counter, wincing.
Leaning beside him, I give him a nudge. “Told you I didn’t do it.” At least they cleared that up.
“Doesn’t matter.” Bianca grabs a glass from the cabinet beside her, a few empty wine bottles already below it. “The media? You don't stand a chance. They’re gonna make my son out to be the bad one. No thanks to you, Rayne Rose.” Then she smiles. “Look at you all grown up. Are you still a criminal?”
Well, damn.
“Ma!” Christian protests, the bridge of his nose between his fingers.
&nbs
p; “It’s true!” she protests. “A girl like that? They’re gonna eat her alive. If my son doesn’t first. You know, he's just like his father.”
“Mom!” Christian tells her to chill out in Spanish and while his mom fires back, my eyes zero in on the screen behind them.
“It's said Perez got into a scuffle with Hunter before leaving with his new beau. Is this girl bad news to the aspiring player? Who is Rayne Rose? We’ll fill you in on the new romance in Eden right after this.”
Christian puts his phone on the counter before he paces the kitchen. “I need a publicist.”
“Now, you’re thinking," his mom says. "If I had a publicist, things would’ve been better for me. Now I can’t even be a proper socialite without Hugo’s drunk ass tarnishing my name. You tell your father that's not right.”
Christian’s phone vibrates beside me as he groans. Allie’s name pops up again.
Allie: Who is she??
My fists clench and I fight the urge to smash it against the screen.
“If you guys are together, it’s only going to get nastier." His mom sips on a refilled glass of wine. The woman’s back on the screen, listing off my felonies. Some I don’t even have. “They don’t like girls like you with guys like him.”
I’m gripping to the counter as my eyes move from the screen to his mom, cheeks heating.
“Ma,” Christian calls again, rubbing his temples. He gestures to me, then her. “You’re a girl like her who married a guy like me.”
“And look at where that got me. Divorced at forty-five.” She winks at me, a charming one like Christian’s. “Good thing I don’t look a day over thirty.”
His phone vibrates again.
Allie: Call me.
Looking back at the TV, the photo of us sharing that kiss comes closer and closer. The camera zooms in on my face and I can’t even appreciate how deep in our kiss we are because the entire world spins.
Without another word, I storm towards the foyer.
I need a second.
I need air.
I always thought that I wanted my old life back but this proves me very fucking wrong.
Christian calls behind me but I don’t listen. Better yet, I won’t have to fight through paparazzi to get out of here.
“Ray, don’t you dare,” Christian calls when my hand hits the door. “I’ve stopped you walking away from me the first time, but if you wanna go, I’m not gonna keep chasing you.”
“Good,” I spit back, turning around on my heels. “We’re too different. I’m not a part of your world anymore and after today, that’s pretty fucking clear don’t you think? We’re only going to ruin each other. And who the fuck is Allie?!” My tone surprises me. I’m usually calm and collected. I’m not supposed to be letting Eden wear me down.
A grin starts to spread across Christian’s face and that only makes me clench my fists tighter. “Shows what you remember. Allie’s my sister. My twin sister. No need to get all jealous over her.”
Shit.
He approaches me as a blur comes to my eyes. I'm so stupid. And crazy. Loca. A complete fucking mess.
How the fuck did I forget that?
He takes my cheeks in his but staring into his eyes makes it all the more confusing. “We’re tied together by so much more than a tax bracket, mi reina. Do I gotta remind you about what we just went through? We can’t walk away from that. Don’t walk away from this. From us.”
“All this is too much. My life and your life are colliding into a motherfucking trainwreck. You’re safer without me.” His forehead hits mine like it’s as hard for him to hear as it is for me to say. “We’ll only keep bringing each other down.”
“Then let’s give the world one hell of a fucking show. I won’t let you down, Ray. Not if you don’t let me down. You and I are power.”
I blink, those words lifting a huge load off my chest. “Not prey."
He smirks. “Haven’t heard that in forever.”
“You remember.” It surprises me and fills me with warmth. With our heads to each other, his eyes have never looked so deep. So magical. Perfect.
“Of course, I did, Rayne-bow,” he chuckles.
I smile against his face before I bring my lips to his. If he can have confidence in us, then I can too. At least I can try. “Don’t bring me down, Perez.”
He grins against my lips, his arms coming around my waist. “Never.”
Twenty-Three
Rayne
“Another failure Miss Rose.”
Henry slides a small stack of paper forward and this one stings more than the last.
A creative writing assignment. The one thing I know how to kill at, but Henry’s still punishing me.
Glancing at Christian’s page, he gets a pass and that stings the most. Especially since I wrote most of it so he could make practice and spare the wrath of my dad. He gets enough of that at home. Sure, he came up with the premise but the rest of the plot is Rayne Rose gold.
The papers crinkle in my hand.
Christian leans in, his stupid inebriating scent coming with him. “Told you to give in the stuff you were working on the other night, and I don’t mean my cock.” He kisses my cheek but that only makes me crumple the assignment and push it in my bag.
“It’s not done,” I remind him.
He shrugs. “So? It’s good.”
He’s referring to the draft of the short story I started in Lake Montauk which is nowhere near complete. Caught me writing in the library one afternoon. He wouldn’t shut up about it until we found an empty aisle where I distracted him with something else. My tits.
“You owe me, Perez.”
He leans in closer, not even bothered that Henry glares at him during the end of his lecture. “You mean another punishment?”
Heat rushes to my cheeks.
Damn him.
Henry dismisses the class, not one for long lectures lately. Students start clearing the room but it's hardly empty when Christian’s lips come to mine.
When I pull back, his brows furrow before I glance at the door, grabbing my backpack. “If Henry sees us, he’ll kick me out of his class forever.”
“Fuck Henry.” Christian turns my chair to face him with little effort. “You don’t need him, Ray." A twinkle comes to his eye and I know that look.
My eyes narrow. “What did you do?”
He grins, pulling me on his lap. “You don’t need him because I submitted your manuscript to Puffin Press.”
Everything slows, the chatter outside muffling. “Please tell me you’re full of shit”
“Not full of shit.” He locks his gaze on mine, a cheesy as fuck grin on his face. “Had a meeting with a publicist back at the house this morning. Told me she works with some high-profile authors. When I told her my partner is an aspiring author she said she’d get her connection at Puffin to take a look.”
I’m trying to digest what he’s saying but he continues.
“She was pandering to me,” he chuckles, picking me up so I can straddle him and something twitches underneath me. Something I’ve been getting very acquainted with. “She was showing she can do a lot more than any old publicist and I guess it worked ‘cause I hired her.”
“So you gave her my manuscript.” I confirm. Which is way worse than my failing assignment.
“Don’t worry, I told her it wasn’t finished but what I read was amazing, Ray.”
“You read it?” My jaw tenses but he tightens his big arms around me.
“She has some solid connections so don’t make me look bad.” He leans in for a kiss but my palm comes to his face instead, pushing him back.
“You do that fine on your own.”
His brows furrow. “The fuck did I do now, Ray?”
“Well, Perez, where do you want me to start?” Pushing on his chest I rise from his hardened crotch. “The part where you didn’t ask me at all like an entitled asshole? Or the part where you pressure me not to disappoint you over something I didn’t even know was happen
ing.”
His mom’s voice rings through my head and she might be right. This is fucking stupid. He doesn’t get it.
“Ray, chill.” He reaches for my hand but I pull back. “It was a joke.”
“I don’t need you making those kinds of decisions for me, Christian. I wasn’t done. And, I don’t need you making decisions for me, period. I need to be the one to get myself ahead. Not you. Unlike you, I don’t have it all figured the fuck out. Can’t in my tax bracket.”
“Fuck, Ray,” he groans, his chin to the ceiling like I’m being unreasonable. “Sit down. Let’s talk.”
“So now you wanna talk?” I’m at the door with my fists by my side and so I don’t punch something, I turn to leave. “Since you know so much about one-sided conversations, have a little chat on your own.”
The notifications on my phone are plenty.
All from Christian.
I’m not in the mood for his stalking antics so I make myself scarce on campus. It’s for the best since word got out about what happened at the NHL charity. Even though Matt found his keys, I’m still the one they’re all suspicious of.
“Careful, she might steal your car.”
A couple of girls walk by the large plant I’m hiding behind in the library, whispering as if I can’t hear them.
“Or smash it.”
With that, I decide to skip my last class for the day and hop the train back to The Grove. Christian’s car would be comfier. Safer. But I can’t with him right now. He had no right to give out my manuscript like that. To decide without me.
So much for no more surprises.
While I’m hiding at the back of the last train car, Christian texts me another five times. I’m about to turn off the phone when a number I don’t recognize pops up with an image.
My eyes narrow when I tap on it, my grip tightening.
My heart thuds.
The image is me.
Me getting on this train.
Unknown: I know what you did.