Eye for an Eye (Take a Chance Book 2)

by Lisa Helen Gray

  Shutting off the car, I then pull down the sun visor, flicking down the mirror to make sure my makeup is still covering the slight bruising on either side of my cheeks. This morning, the bruises were barely there, only light green, yet they were still noticeable to the eye. So, Rebecca gave me a foundation that has the ultimate coverage, and it worked. I can’t see them. I couldn’t do much for the tiny cut on my lip or the bruises on my arm, so after our morning coffee, Rebecca helped me come up with a plausible excuse for how I got them. It might work, it might not, but it’s the only reasonable explanation I can come up with. And it will kill me to say it.

  I slide out of the car and let myself into the office using the key Jaxon gave me a few weeks ago.

  Flicking on the lights, I notice no one cleaned up after leaving Saturday night. So, after turning the alarm off, and then turning the heater on, I make my way to the back and grab a dustpan and brush, along with a bin bag.

  Glass covers the floor near Jaxon’s desk, which has many questions running through my mind. It seems like a lifetime ago that the fire happened. I can’t remember if he did it while I was there.

  Sweeping it up doesn’t take me long, but once I’m finished, I’ve worked up a sweat, so I pull the cardigan I’m wearing off and throw it over my desk.

  I run my hands down my dress, straightening it. It brings back memories of Saturday night and a smile lifts at the corner of my lips. I still can’t believe he tore my skirt and shirt. I have others, sure, but none as nice as the ones he ripped apart.

  I forgot my work clothes when I left for Rebecca’s last night, but luckily she still has samples of clothing people have sent to her to model or promote. It’s a perk of having a friend who is a part-time model. The downfall is Rebecca has a smaller arse than me, so the black dress, although stretchy, is tight around my arse. I’m afraid that each time I sit down it will stretch to the point it tears. The bust area is showing more than I care for, but not enough to be slutty. It’s classy and plain, simple yet elegant. I love it.

  I grab all the glasses and set them on Wyatt’s desk, ready to take them into the staff room to be washed. Once I have them all in one place, I go around and clear up the bottles and empty the bins that were forgotten about on Saturday.

  Just as I go back to the glasses, the door behind me opens, startling me.

  “What are you doing here this early?” Wyatt asks as I turn to face him. “I heard the car as I got out of the bathroom and saw you parking up.”

  My gaze is immediately drawn to his thick, grey joggers that don’t hide the fact he’s going commando. I take a deep breath, squeezing my thighs together when a rush of arousal hits me.

  “I came to clean up. I wasn’t sure if you guys would have done it yesterday.”

  He grins, shaking his head. “No, we made the others stay home and relax. We even forced Jaxon to go home with Lily after breakfast.”

  This is awkward. I don’t know how to react, not after Saturday. Do I bring it up? Do I— Why is he staring at me weirdly?

  “What happened to your lip?” he growls, taking long strides over to me.

  Absently, I run my finger over the cut. “I, um—”

  “Who fucking hurt you?” he growls, his gaze now on my arm.

  I close my eyes. I had hoped to keep those bruises quiet. In fact, I had hoped no one would bring the lip up.

  “I—”

  “I’ll fuck up whoever did it to you. I swear to God. I fucking knew someone had hurt you.”

  I step forward, placing my palms on his chest, over his white T-shirt, and smile up at him. I hate that I’m going to lie but hearing how fiercely he will protect me… it warms my heart. No one, other than Rebecca, has ever stood up for me, not even my mother.

  “I’m fine.”

  His eyebrows pinch together. “You aren’t fine. Who did it?”

  “I told you I was going to see my mum, right?” I swallow past the lump in my throat, waiting for him to nod. When he does, I force myself to continue. “Her mind is deteriorating, and she has moments of outbursts where she gets confused and angry.”

  “She hurt you?” he asks, running his thumb over my lip.

  More than he knows. I might be lying about how I got my injuries, but I’m not lying about the fact that she does hit out. When I was caring for her, she not only put herself at risk time and time again, but she put me at risk. During my exams, I had little sleep, what with revising and caring for her. I fell asleep once, only to wake up to her screaming at me that I stole her baby. She broke my wrist with the bat she used. It wasn’t the first time she attacked me, but it was the worst, and I knew then that I couldn’t care for her to the best of my ability anymore.

  “Yeah. She doesn’t know who I am most of the time. There are times when she does, but they’re further apart.”

  He wraps his arms around me, his hands going straight to my arse. It makes my lips twitch because it seems he has a fascination with it. “I’m sorry, babe.”

  I shrug. “It’s okay.”

  The grin he gives me turns mischievous and downright dirty. “Well, I know what I can do to make you feel better.”

  “Wyatt, we can’t do that here,” I tell him, but there’s no heat in my words. My body, however, burns up as he squeezes my arse, pressing me tighter against him. I can feel how hard he is through his joggers, and I let out a puff of air.

  God, I’m such a slut.

  “Of course we can. I own the building,” he rumbles, lightly kissing his way down my neck. “I love this dress on you, baby, maybe more than the skirt.”

  “There’s something I need to tell you before we do this again,” I rasp, before a moan slips past my lips.

  Ignoring me, he leans back, his gaze on my cleavage. He smirks, flicking his finger against the hem of my dress, leaving goose bumps where he brushes across the swell of my breasts. He pulls the fabric down, grinning as he reveals more.

  “Not here,” I tell him breathlessly.

  How can I tell him no when my body is screaming for him? How, in good conscience, can I keep doing this when I’m being deceitful?

  He somehow manages to free one of my tits, and I moan when his lips close around my erect nipple.

  “Fuck!” I groan, tilting my head back.

  I feel his lips pull into a grin as he slowly kisses his way up my chest, to my neck. “I bet you’re already wet.”

  I am, but that isn’t what I tell him. “Someone might walk in.”

  A squeal escapes me when he suddenly lifts me by my arse. My dress rises, and I’m grateful for the slit at the back. Rebecca will kill me if I tear her dress.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his neck.

  “Going to the back, where someone can’t walk in,” he replies huskily, then kisses me.

  The taste of mint hits my tongue and I moan into the kiss, flicking my tongue against his. I forget where we are, what we are doing, who I am. All that matters is him, and when the kiss deepens, I want to claw his clothes off.

  When his grip loosens on my arse, I tighten my legs and arms around him. My body begins to heat when I feel his fingers digging into the skin next to my knees, lightly running them up my thighs, pushing my dress up along the way.

  “Wyatt,” I moan.

  My bare arse hits a cold surface and I hiss out a breath.

  “Your skin is so fucking smooth,” he tells me, his voice low, husky.

  I run my hands over his shoulders, feeling his muscles flex under my touch. He pulls back, searching my gaze, and his pupils dilate. I feel a sharp tug at my heart, and I open my mouth, ready to tell him we should talk.

  He slams his lips against mine, stopping the words from forming in my mouth.

  I go to shove him back but it’s useless. My body doesn’t cooperate, and I end up pulling him closer, the cotton on his joggers rubbing against my sex.

  “Fuck!” he grumbles, his fingers running up to my hips, gripping the flimsy material of my thong.

/>   “Don’t rip—” The sound of the tear has me wincing, yet there’s no denying the desire seeping between my legs. “Wyatt!” I groan.

  “I’ve been dying to do this since I woke up Sunday morning,” he growls into my ear, as his fingers run through my arousal.

  I drop my head back, hitting the cabinet behind me with a thud. “We… we should— Oh God, do that again,” I cry out, spreading my legs further apart.

  He groans, his thumb circling my clit. “So fucking wet. Did you crave me the way I craved you? Did you spend the day thinking of my cock inside of you?”

  “Please, Wyatt,” I plead, arching into his touch.

  “I couldn’t stop thinking about this, imagining all the things I wanted to do to you,” he tells me, torturing me.

  “Then do it,” I snap, feeling my entire body heat with desire.

  He smirks, running his finger over my nipple. “Bossy.”

  Reaching behind me, he feels for the zipper on my dress, then drags it down my back, torturously slow. Oh God, he wants this; he wants to torture me.

  Maybe this is the time to put a stop to this before it goes too far, before it becomes irreversible.

  “Wyatt, we should stop,” I tell him, a throaty moan escaping me when he slides the straps of the dress down my arms, then lets the rest pool at my waist, freeing my bare breasts. This isn’t a dress I can wear a bra with, and I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing right now. I can’t think straight, especially when his lips close around my nipple, tugging at it.

  “Oh God,” I cry out, feeling his large hand between my legs again, but this time, he isn’t touching me. I realise what he’s doing when his cock lines up at my entrance.

  “Condom,” I screech, wincing at how high-pitched I sound. I’m on birth control, but after weeks of hearing about his escapades from his brothers, I can’t trust he used them with other women.

  Sighing, his green eyes focus on mine. In my peripheral vision, I see him reach for something above my head, but I can’t look away from his blazing gaze. There is so much want, so much need, that my heart begins to beat rapidly.

  I can’t look away, not even when I hear the distinct sound of a condom packet tearing.

  He is gorgeous, in more ways than one.

  I’m shocked when I feel the condom rolled over his cock brush my leg, but don’t stop to question why he has them stored in a kitchen cupboard. I’m not sure I even want to know.

  I flicker my lashes as I grip the edge of his T-shirt, lifting it over his head. It’s only fair since I’m practically naked.

  “This isn’t going to be soft,” he rumbles, stepping closer.

  I flick my gaze from his marvellous chest to his forest green eyes. “I don’t know if you noticed or not, but I like it either way—more when you go hard.”

  “Fuck,” he groans, his eyes darkening as he shoves himself inside of me.

  The pleasure and pain have me screaming out as I reach for him, gripping his shoulders to steady myself. Kissing me, his tongue flicks over my lip. I groan against his mouth, feeling my inner muscles quiver as I hold on tight. Which is all I can do in this position. He has me at his mercy and I love it.

  I pull his bottom lip between my teeth when he tugs at my nipple. He growls, his eyes blazing before he roughly drags me to the edge of the counter, pummelling into me with a delicious friction. Pressure builds inside of me, my inner walls tightening with raw need. My body feels coiled, burning with desire as I struggle to catch my breath.

  I want more, need more. So much so my nails dig into his rigid back, raking down the hard muscle.

  “Fuck!” I cry out, feeling the orgasm coming. I’m close, so fucking close.

  It’s out of control, hot, and filled with fire. Both of us chasing what only the other can give us.

  Our lips smash together once more, the kiss wet, messy, and our breathing mingling together as he continues to pump in and out of me with such ferocity.

  “Wyatt? You here?” Jaxon yells, and I pull back, my eyes widening in horror. “I’m just opening up the storage room.”

  Smirking, Wyatt lifts his head before placing his hand over my mouth. “Be quiet,” he warns.

  I moan into his hand before pulling back, feeling sweat trickle down my spine. “He’ll hear us and walk in,” I mumble under his hand.

  God, how can I be wetter. And why is he not stopping?

  “Then hurry up. I don’t want him walking in and seeing your gorgeous tits bounce each time I pound into you,” he groans, and to prove a point, he slams inside of me, watching my tits bounce from the force. I let out a moan, so turned on I feel like I’m going to combust. “You don’t want him to see me balls deep inside of your pussy, to see that glorious arse. You don’t want him to see you come around my cock, do you?”

  “Wyatt,” I moan, trying to keep my voice low. I feel my walls of muscle clench around him.

  He senses my orgasm, so he gently applies pressure with the hand over my mouth, mindful of the cut in the corner. I let go of his shoulders, placing my hands over his to stifle the cry that escapes as my entire body coils and tightens, the orgasm tearing through me like a tsunami.

  “Fuck!” he growls, pumping inside of me without control, sweat beading at his temples.

  I sag against the counter as he empties the last of his cum into the condom. Our chests rise and fall, and for a minute, I forget where we are, who is here. That is, until Jaxon’s voice filters through the factory.

  “Where are ya? Do you want a cup of coffee? Is Evie here?”

  Wyatt clears his throat before turning to the door. “I’ve got the kettle on. I’ll bring you one out.”

  “All right. I’ll go check on Reid and come back,” he yells, before his footsteps move away from us.

  I relax somewhat before sitting up and slapping Wyatt across his chest. “I can’t believe you. He could have walked in.”

  Wyatt’s eyes darken. “You liked the danger,” he smarts off, before his eyebrows draw together. “And I’d never have let him see you. None of them.”

  I pull the straps of my dress up, covering my breasts, but wince when I feel how wet I am between my legs. My thong is shredded, lying on the floor.

  “I don’t have any knickers,” I tell him, too satisfied to even complain. “Wait, my overnight bag from Becca’s last night is in my car.”

  “You stayed at Becca’s?”

  I must look like a deer caught in headlights when I glance back up, trying to think of what to say. But then it hits me: I only feel like there should be an explanation because of what I’m hiding. In reality, friends stay over at each other’s homes all the time. “Yeah, she wanted a movie night.”

  “Does this mean you’ll be changing out of this dress?” He pouts as he ties the end of the condom and discards it.

  I groan, jumping down from the side, feeling a wet patch on the back of my dress. “Yes. Will you grab my bag for me, please? I don’t want to walk out and have them see. They’ll know.”

  Laughing, he bends down to kiss my mouth. “They won’t care. Well, Jaxon might. But he doesn’t need to know,” he explains, but then pauses, deep in thought. “Although, I wouldn’t be surprised if he already knows, or if he guesses when he sees us together.”

  “Please, go get my bag,” I whine, slapping his chest. He isn’t making this any easier.

  He leaves, and I can’t help but sag against the counter, wondering what I’m going to do. It’s clear I can’t resist him.

  I want to tell him. I want to remove this wall between us, a wall he doesn’t even realise is there because of me.

  But how can I do that if he’s constantly seducing me?

  The next time, I’m going to be rational. I won’t allow him to talk dirty or touch me.

  I can do this.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  WYATT

  A smug smirk pulls at the corners of my lips as I watch Evie head out of the office supply room with a stack of papers. Just seeing her in jean
s and a V-cut T-shirt reminds me of our encounter earlier this morning. My cock stirs, wanting her again.

  Fuck, I always want her.

  The guys couldn’t hide their shocked reaction at seeing her in casual clothes. She looks less stuffy and more comfortable. I’m not saying I don’t like her work attire, but there is something about seeing Evie, who has been a mystery to me, be more like herself. I like it.

  If I thought any of them had a chance with her, I’d tell them to fuck off and stop checking her out, but I knew the second she let me between her legs that I’d knocked through a wall she didn’t let many through. None of them have a chance. They never did.

  The kettle clicks off when it finishes boiling, and I go to work on making her a cup of tea. Once I’m done, I grab the pastry I nabbed from Paisley’s B&B and head into the main office area.

  She looks up when she hears me coming, a smile lifting at the corner of her lips when I place them down on her desk in front of her.

  “Thank you,” she greets, her lashes fluttering. “Where did you get the pastry from?”

  I place my index finger over my lips. “I never reveal my secrets.”

  She pinches a part of the pastry off, flakes raining down, covering the desk and her T-shirt. I groan as she places it in her mouth, her red, plump lips closing over her fingers.

  I want those lips wrapped around my cock. I want to watch as she sucks all of me into her mouth whilst she looks up at me with those impressive grey eyes.

  It would have happened by now if I could control myself when I’m around her. The second we are alone, all I want to do is rip her clothes off and fuck her senseless.

  “This is so good,” she moans, licking a crumb off her lip.

  I grasp the back of her chair, my other hand palm down on the desk as I lean forward, getting in her face. “You know what else would feel good?”