From the glint in his eye, I can tell that 'making you happy' is code for something I definitely don't want details about.
He leans over and rubs his nose against hers. "I was starting to think I might need to punish you for that but baby, I like the way you think.”
She mewls as she pulls him down on top of her. "Oh baby, you punish me so good. I get in trouble just so you can spank–"
"Okay, okay," I erupt. "I get the point. You're newly-weds. Every argument devolves into a sex fest. I don't wanna witness it, though. And if I hear either of you say ‘baby’ one more time, I’m hanging up."
Both of them snap back to the screen with unapologetic smiles on their faces.
"Sorry," Annaleigh snorts. "Forgot we had an audience."
Prescott's eyes narrow and he leans closer to the screen. "Wait – where are you?"
I swallow hard, readjusting the pillow behind my back. "In New York," I offer simply, not wanting to lie. My brother always knows when I'm lying.
"Are you at Mr. Silver’s place? That looks like his guest bedroom. I stayed there a few times when I was in New York on business. Great mattress. Memory foam."
I run my tongue over my teeth. "It's Mr. Silver's guest bedroom." I add nothing more. If my brother wants the whole story, he's gonna have to pry it out of me 'cause I ain't volunteerin' nothin'.
Just when I fear he's about to put those hard-won courthouse cross-examination skills to work on me, he tilts his head and sniffs at the air like a dog. "Do I smell chicken nuggets?"
"Oh shit!" Annaleigh cries out. "Can you get those out of the oven for me?"
Prescott hustles off in the direction of the kitchen as his wife resumes her chip-munching. "Would it kill you to make your husband a home-cooked meal for once? Goddamn. We subscribe to Food Network, for crying out loud!"
I chortle as he hurries away.
"It’s all these cravings, baby," Annaleigh calls after him. “These hormones are turning me into a whole different person. Remember what the doctor said.”
Wait…What?
She turns her attention back to me. “Oh, by the way – I’m pregnant!”
“What the hell? Why am I only now hearing about this?”
She shrugs. “We just found out. I’ve been trying to reach you all day.”
I’m in utter shock. My bestie’s having a baby. With my brother. I’m going to be an auntie!
“Okay, okay! I need details!”
With a giggle, Annaleigh proceeds to catch me up on the happenings with the tiny human growing inside of her. I start musing about the list of things I’m going to teach my future niece or nephew and how much fun (s)he is going to have with Auntie Eva. Annaleigh groans as she tells me about my mother and her over-enthusiasm at the news. I laugh. I know my mom is going to drive her and Prescott crazy. We all are. I can’t help the tears of excitement streaming down my face.
“Wow – you’re more emotional about this than I am.” She hitches a brow as she wipes her tears away with her fingers.
“The novelty’s worn off for you,” I laugh. “I’m still adjusting to the idea.”
"Okay, let’s talk about something else before I start crying again.” Her voice takes on a low mischievous tone and she waggles her eyebrows at the screen. “So, what are you doing at Mr. Silver’s place?"
My stomach goes tight. "Don't you start!" I warn her.
She laughs manically. "Just kidding, hun. Mr. Silver’s kind of hot in a rugged, old rich guy kind of way but the idea of you with your dad's best friend is just absurd." Quickly dismissing the idea, she snuggles against a throw pillow and changes the subject again. "Now tell me about that fashion show." She shoves another chip into her mouth and licks her fingers one by one, waiting for the scoop.
Feeling guilty as sin, I make up this bullshit story about opening for some up and coming designer from the Bronx. Annaleigh totally eats up my lies and half an hour later, we hang up.
I close my eyes and breathe out a heavy sigh. I’m so thankful that Raphael was there at that auction. He’s someone I trust. Someone who’s always been in my life. Now that I’m here with him, I’m a little less worried, less afraid.
Madame Gwendolyn and her partners will take their cut of the auction price – 50% of the purchase price plus a finder’s fee, food and accommodation costs, and other expenses – then the balance will be deposited into my account. Even with those extortionate, inflated, made-up deductions, I’ll have enough money left over to pay off Simon and get him out of my life. That’s all I care about. I’ll figure out the next steps from there.
“Everything will be all right…” I whisper as I pull the blankets up to my chin.
My eyes flutter shut under the weight of my fatigue. Just as I’m about to let sleep pull me under, I hear my phone vibrating on the table next to me.
“What is it now, Annaleigh?” I whisper into the darkness.
Unthinkingly, I grab it and tap at the screen.
My heart jumps at the words I read.
Simon: contact me the minute that money hits ur bank account. Or else, I will find u wherever u are and come pick it up
Simon: and i won't be happy
“Fuck…” I mutter under my breath.
I can’t let my guard down just yet.
Chapter 7
Raphael
I stare up at the ceiling.
How am I supposed to sleep tonight? My best friend’s daughter is in the other room, lying in bed wearing nothing but my T-shirt. I just bought her at an auction to save her from the vile predators who were ready to pounce on her. I'm going to have to explain all that to her father when I take her home tomorrow.
Jesus Christ!
I toss my cellphone onto the bedside table. I’ve sent three texts to Brooks tonight, all urging him to get back to me. He hasn’t. Showing up in Reyfield unannounced tomorrow morning is a last resort. I need to lay the groundwork for my visit. Bob Brooks is known to throw a punch first and think of the consequences later. Not that I can’t hold my own against him. It’s just that I’d rather not have to kick the ass of my oldest and dearest friend.
I blink hard, trying to tamp down the fatigue working its way through my skull. Sixteen-hour days are the norm for me, followed by drawn-out nights when I lay in bed, trying to dream up new ways to make my business more efficient, more competitive. My firm is already an industry leader but I want to keep pushing the envelope. I’m not yet satisfied. I won’t be until Silver Metal Brokers wipes out all its competitors.
But tonight, it’s a different type of vision plaguing me every time I close my eyes. I see my best friend’s daughter on her knees, taking my cock down her throat. Gagging and straining as I pull on her hair and buck against her mouth.
This whole situation is so fucked up. When I walked into that sex club tonight, I intended on walking out with a signed contract and a big, fat check from a new client. Instead, I left with a submissive.
And Evangeline Brooks submits to no one.
She’s wild and free-spirited, more unpredictable than the wind. Yet somehow, I have her on an invisible leash for the next 30 days.
If the wrong person finds out about this, I’m done. Everything I worked so hard to build will go swirling down the drain. I’ll lose my business, I’ll lose my friendship with Brooks. Hell – I’ll probably go to jail. But I had no other choice. There was no way I was walking out of that building and leaving that girl behind.
A loud shriek pierces through the air. I bolt upright in bed. "Evangeline..."
Without pause, I hurry down the hall to the guest bedroom. I throw open the door and charge into the room.
She's thrashing about in bed, sobbing and mumbling in her sleep. Poor thing. I can only imagine the content of her nightmares. It fucks with me, seeing her being tortured by her demons. I want to rip into her dreams and wrestle those demons to the ground.
Instead, I sit on the edge of the mattress and quietly whisper her name. “Eva…” I flip on the bedside
light.
She jolts awake and darts into my lap. With arms around my neck, she sobs against my chest, shaking all over. It’s only then that I realize that a pair of black cotton boxers is all I’m wearing. I try to ignore the way my cock surges to life with her here in my arms. I try not to focus on the warmth of her skin, the fragile femininity of her touch, the fragrant smell of her hair. But it's so hard.
Yes…that’s a pun.
I consider myself a strong man. I served my country in the military, I built a billion-dollar company in the face of adversity. Hell – I even survived 15 years of marriage to my ex-wife, Diane.
But now this young, tender flower will be the thing to break me. Because when she shifts her weight and settles against my thigh, I feel the soft slickness of her pussy against me.
She has no panties on.
I struggle to keep my shaft from growing even harder. I focus instead on the trouble she's gotten herself into. There's really no point in adding more fuel to this combustive situation.
"Are you okay, Eva?"
She shakes her head against my chest. "I–I dreamt that he came to get me. He came for his money. And I didn’t have it." She hiccups, out of breath, and wraps her body tighter around mine.
"Shh..." I coo, stroking her hair. "That won't happen. I've got this handled. I've got you."
No one will lay a finger on her. I'd risk my life to ensure that.
"I've fucked up. So bad."
Her fingers claw into my flesh and fine goosebumps cover her skin. She’s terrified. I need her to believe me when I tell her that I’ll protect her.
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” I shush her, pressing my cheek to her scalp and cradling her.
Her arms tighten further and she burrows closer. “I’m so scared…I really am…”
“Don’t worry,” I tell her, “Don’t worry about anything.”
Her scent spills into my lungs and refraining from tracing her skin with my fingers is physically painful. My heart brutalizes my ribcage with violent kicks. My nerve endings are all reactive, alight. My cock won’t listen to reason. My stomach tightens.
She shifts in my lap again. And this time, she feels it.
Her eyes dash up to mine. Her breath catches in her throat. “You’re hard…” she whispers.
Crap!
I freeze, waiting for her reaction. She thinks I’m a vile old man taking advantage of the situation, comforting her for my own benefit. She’s going to jump out of my lap. Shove me hard. Slap me across the face. I just know it.
We sit frozen, staring at each other for an interminable moment. Then, her eyes gloss over. Her tongue drifts quickly across her lips and a little noise that sounds strangely like a moan spills from her mouth.
What?
Shit…she wants me…
And, I want her, too.
I try to negotiate with myself. I can’t act on this want. I have to push it aside. This is my best friend’s daughter. She’s twenty years younger than I am. She’s emotionally fragile after all that’s happened tonight.
I clear my throat and lean back to put some space between us. I make an attempt to change the subject. "You've gotten me into quite the situation here, Evangeline. How am I supposed to explain this to your parents?"
She opens her legs wider, pressing her raw, slick pussy to my thigh. "They don’t have to know,” she breathes, her chest rising and falling quickly. “They don’t have to know about any of this…I'm 22, after all."
I hiss as even more blood fills my cock.
“Eva,” I beg her for mercy. I beg her to back down. Because I’m not sure that I’m strong enough, that I’m man enough to do the right thing.
She doesn’t say another word. She just runs her soft fingers down my chest, over the sprinkling of hair on my torso. Her touch flits over my nipple and I groan low in my throat as I feel the last of my self-restraint wither away.
"I wanna fuck you so bad..." I hear myself growling.
Her crystalline eyes hood further. "Do it." It’s a plea. It’s a challenge. It’s driving me mad.
"Don't make me be that guy..."
"What guy?"
"The guy who fucks his best friend's daughter."
"I'm more than just your best friend's daughter, Raph."
Raph…hearing her call me that…In that tone…With that look in her eyes…
My breathing quickens. My fingers flex at her waist. “What am I going to do with you, Kitten?”
Peering up at me from under her lashes, she threads her fingers through mine and guides them under the hem of her shirt. “Whatever you like, I guess. You did just buy me for a million dollars.”
It’s not that simple. Fucking her will have consequences. I need her to know that. "If I touch you, that changes everything," I rasp out. I should get up. I should walk out of this room…But I don’t want to, dammit.
"Touch me..." She circles her hips, massaging her pussy on my leg.
A hungry ache throbs hotly in my cock. “I can't take this anymore, Eva. I fucking need you tonight." My self-control ruptures.
I clutch her hair in my fist and pull her head back roughly. She moans right before my lips cover hers. Shockwaves ripple through me at that initial contact. My chest tingles, awareness roaring through each one of my ribs. I press my eyes shut to experience her fully. Her little moans, the saccharine flavor of her tongue, the desperate flex of her fingers at my waist.
One swift movement is all it takes for me to spin her around and toss her onto the mattress. She whimpers as I climb on top of her and grab her face. I kiss her again. Harder this time.
She runs her fingers over the hard muscles of my back, down to my waist. Her soft touch is electric. She’s so small underneath me. She makes me feel like a man. Strong and powerful. In control.
I should probably be gentle with her, I should be soft. After all, she’s a virgin. But I can’t. Lust is raging through my blood, pulsing in my every cell. I never even realized that I felt this way about Evangeline. Until now. I never allowed myself to want her. I never allowed myself to indulge. But now that I’m here, on top of her, I just can’t restrain this want.
She tastes so good. Fucking maple syrup. Hot and sweet and sticky. I want her sweetness all over me.
I kiss a path down her neck, fondling her breasts roughly through the fabric of her shirt. My teeth grate along her skin. She’ll have bruises in the morning.
Erotic little sex sounds tumble out of her. The way her body reacts to me is driving me insane. She reaches up and traps the flesh of my arm between her teeth. That little bite ignites something in me, it tears my inhibitions down.
My fingers travel roughly up the inside of her thigh and she shivers with anticipation as I approach her core. I groan when my touch slides over her pelvis, through her wetness. I spread my fingers, opening her up. My thumb angles at her entrance, ready to press inside of her tight, wet heat.
And then, out of nowhere, her father’s face pops into my head.
Fuck!
No guy wants to be thinking about a girl’s father right as he’s about to fuck her. But when her father also happens to be your very best friend? It’s like getting dashed with a bucket of ice water.
R.I.P. Boner. You will be missed.
I jerk away from her, falling back onto my haunches. She looks up at me with wild blue-green eyes. Her lips are parted, swollen, ripe. “What is it?” she breathes out.
My mind is still fuzzy and dazed. I shove my fingers through my hair, pulling at the strands. I can’t set my thoughts straight. All I know is I need to get away from her.
I climb off of the bed, backing slowly toward the door. What have I done? I can’t find words. Watching her lying there, disheveled and needy and disappointed, all I can do is silently curse myself as I hurry away.
Chapter 8
Raphael
My fist slams into the leather and a blunt thud fills the air. A powerful right hook.
The punching bag swerves to the left. B
y the time the pillar of leather rebounds, I’m ready with the left-right combo. Water pours down my forehead, my damp hair flinging sweat into my eyes. The stinging is barely enough to distract me from the troubling visions spinning in my head.
Eva pinned down beneath me, body throbbing, begging for me. Lips parted, legs spread, cream spilling onto the bed sheets.
I’m not a saint. I’m not on the Vatican’s short-list for canonization. In my line of business, sometimes, you have to do things in order to get ahead. But the one value that I’ve always held fast to is honor. I honor my friends. I value their trust. I respect their families.
Dirty Silver (The Dirty Suburbs Book 7) Page 4