by Ivy Carter
It’s an empty apology, and that just makes me feel worse.
He shakes his head, deflecting my sympathy to continue his story. “I was tortured… You can’t imagine, Hailey…”
Pain rips through my chest and jabs into my heart. I blink to reset the images that flit through my imagination. My life, until now, has been sheltered. Easy. Somehow I’ve managed to steer clear of deep trauma, the sharp sting of loss.
I trail my finger along Duke’s cheek. “What did they do to you?’
“The details would shock you,” he says, quiet.
I hate that these memories are causing him pain. I want to know more, but am equally as desperate to make him forget. My eyes travel along his torso, searching for scars, permanent marks of the torture he endured at the hands of the enemy. I imagine him like a caged animal, trapped by the people he vowed to protect our country against. No wonder he’s haunted by the past.
“I’ve worked every day since my return to try and forget what they did.” The raw edge in his voice cuts like a knife. “The suffering. The torture…” His words trail off. “Kingston Industries became my sanctuary. I dedicated my life to the business—crafting a team that delivered innovation that could be symbolic of advancement. Feed my personal need to move forward. It’s that passion, that drive, that made Kingston Industries the success it is today.”
Duke may have tried to bury the past, but it’s painfully obvious memories creep up in other ways. His need for control. Dominance. His reputation as a business tycoon should have terrified three kids fresh out of college, but I thrived on the challenge whereas others might have bolted. Is that what he sees in me, the reason I’m cocooned in his bed? I wonder now if I may be in over my head—personally and professionally—and the possibility shadows me in overwhelming sadness.
“The pain’s still there,” he says. “No matter how much money I make, or what new products I develop.” Our mouths are so close we’re practically kissing. “At the end of a long day, I close my eyes, and the images come to life. They play out in my nightmares and dreams.”
My throat grows raw with grief.
“I was trained to take the beatings,” he says. “No way those fuckers could have made me talk. But they tried. Damn, did they try.” He shifts a little. “Hailey, they use technology no one has even heard of. The kind of stuff that will make the hair on the back of your neck crawl. And that was years ago. Can you imagine what they’ve created since?”
His arms tremble as he shudders.
All of a sudden, the pieces of the puzzle begin dropping into place. It all makes sense. The MicroTracker reminds Duke of that dark past. It represents the kind of innovation that was used to do more harm than good, a weapon that in the wrong hands could get people hurt—or killed.
A tear trickles down my cheek. “God, I’m such an ass.” I lower my chin, ashamed at how hard I’ve pushed for answers. I think of Duke bound and tortured, the pain forever etched in his mind, his brain. How could he ever forget?
He gently kisses my forehead. “You didn’t know. No one does.”
I’m touched that he’s chosen to share this with me, but it doesn’t ease the sympathy that clutches my heart in an iron fist. There are no words no comfort him, no actions I can take to ease the pain.
I bury myself into his chest and sigh. His arms wrap around me and I allow myself to be lulled deeper into a fantasy that further merges Duke’s world with mine, this confession somehow bringing us closer, more connected. I don’t know what the future holds for us, whether I’ll stay at Kingston Industries, or if Duke will pretend this moment never happened, but it doesn’t matter, because I have this, the here and now, and no matter what tomorrow brings, I’ll never forget.
Never.
The shrill echo of my phone ringing yanks me out of the dream. I pull back, startled, and glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It’s almost one in the morning.
“That sounds important,” Duke says.
My skin ripples in goose bumps. I climb out from under the covers and run, naked, to the living room to retrieve my cell.
“Hello?” I say breathless.
Moonlight streams in through the windows, casting the room in an ominous glow. The city lights appear more vibrant and in the distance, a large boat sails toward Navy Pier. I curl into the couch, trying to stay warm against an unexpected chill that skips along my skin.
“Hailey?”
My stomach clenches. “Forrest? What’s wrong?”
“Something bad.” His voice cracks. “Something really bad.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “What do you mean, something bad?”
A shadow falls over the room. I look up and find Duke wrapped in a plush white robe and carrying another. He sits at the edge of the sofa and drapes me in it. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, listening. My heart pounds with the unknown.
“It’s Marissa…”
“Jake’s girlfriend?” Of course that Marissa, but I’m so confused and disoriented, nothing makes sense. “What about her?”
A sound of strangled anguish comes through the phone. “She’s dead,” Forrest stammers. “She’s dead, Hailey, and Jake has been arrested for her murder.”
Chapter 6
I feel the color drain from my face and a sudden chill settles deep in my bones. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
Forrest speaks slower, but the underlying panic rings through straight to my gut. “Jake is at the police station right now,” he says. “They claim he killed her. Strangled her at Navy Pier.”
My heart feels like it’s falling through my chest. It’s no secret Jake and Marissa had problems. You could practically set your calendar by their heated arguments. Sometimes they got bad…but never violent.
Sure, Jake could get angry. A nasty fight at the beginning of our business partnership has almost ripped apart our company before it even got off the ground. But was he capable of murder?
I can’t—won’t—believe it.
“Jake didn’t do this,” I whisper.
“Of course not,” Forrest says, clearing his throat. But it’s not the words I hear, it’s the subtlety of doubt in his voice—and it guts me. “It’s obviously a mistake,” he says.
“A mistake,” I repeat.
“Do you need me to come over?”
My eyes go wide. “No…no…I’ll be okay,” I stammer. My gaze flickers to Duke, who’s forehead is pinched in concern. He caresses the side of my cheek, and it’s suddenly all I can do not to burst into tears and crawl into his arms. “There’s nothing we can do tonight.”
Forrest finally concedes. “You’re right. I don’t have many details anyway, but first thing tomorrow…”
“Yes,” I say, quickly. “Tomorrow. We’ll go to the police station together and find out what we can.” Duke squeezes my shoulder, a reminder he’s there. “Oh, and I’ll text Mr. Kingston and let him know we won’t be coming into the office.”
Forrest groans. “Oh God. Talk about making an impression. What is he going to think?”
I glance up at Duke, his face shadowed in the dim light. My fingers curl around his arm. “He’ll understand, I’m sure.” Duke nods, as though he somehow knows we’re talking about him. “Get some rest, Forrest. We’ll figure this all out tomorrow.”
The advice sounds good, but I know there’s no way either of us will sleep.
I don’t realize how long I’ve been staring at my cell until Duke gently pries it from my hands. He sets in on the table and sits next to me on the couch. My body feels numb, my heart empty.
“Jake has been arrested…” My voice is so hollow I don’t even recognize it as my own. “…for murder.”
Tears swell in the corner of my eyes and I blink, blink, blink to stop them from falling. It’s no use. They come out in an uncontrollable rush until I’m sobbing so hard I can barely breathe. My chest heaves in time with my shoulders. I’m an emotional wreck.
Duke pulls me into him an
d strokes my hair. “It will be okay.”
I shake my head. “It won’t.” I lift my chin and stare into his dark eyes. They’re filled with emotion, with a sincerity that yanks on my heartstrings, adding more chaos to the storm. “It really won’t.”
It’s more than Jake’s arrest. It’s as though my whole world is crashing down around me. The business, this fantasy with Duke, the company I worked so hard to build crumbling into dust—it’s like some kind of nightmare and I just want to fucking wake up.
“I know that it seems bleak, impossible even,” he says. “But we have no details and without those, we can only speculate. The morning will bring clarity.”
“I just don’t see how Jake could have…”
Duke lifts me to my feet and gathers me in his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck, too caught up in misery to appreciate his strength, his kindness. He carries me to the bathroom and sets me down on a bench beside a giant claw foot tub. “Wait here.”
I watch, numb, as he runs the water, adding bubbles that smell like vanilla and Epson salts with the faint scent of lavender. He lights candles, dims the lights. And when the tub is almost overflowing, he slides the robe off my shoulders and takes my hand. My palm fits so perfectly in his that it brings on a fresh wave of tears.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I say, my voice trembling.
He puts his finger over his lips and leads me into the water. I sink in, allowing the warmth to take away some of the chill that comes with shock. The tension along the back of my neck eases, begins to subside.
“I’ll be right back,” Duke says, gently.
Alone with my thoughts, stark reality begins to set in. Somewhere out there, Marissa’s parents are mourning the loss of their daughter, and her boyfriend—my business partner—is spending the night in a jail cell for a crime he may or may not have committed. A lump forms in my throat. I can’t believe he would do something so…
Is it so hard to believe in a crime of passion?
My mind reels through the database of their arguments. I zero in on the tone of his voice, on words and sentences that can’t be taken back. He’s never threatened her, not in my presence. Could something have happened to make him just snap?
Duke returns with a glass of white wine. “Drink,” he commands.
The first sip burns my raw throat, but I allow it to soothe me. I expect Duke to leave the room—he must have more important things to do—and when he doesn’t, I’m strangely silent. Reflective.
“What a mess this night has turned into,” I say.
Duke tilts his head and gives me a small smile. “Not all terrible, I hope.”
No, not all. The bath water stings the sensitive parts of my body that have been ravaged by Duke’s mouth. This night—for all the good and bad—will remain imprinted on me for eternity.
Twenty minutes and a full glass of wine later, Duke helps me out of the water, carefully towel drying me, and wrapping me in the robe before leading me back to the bedroom. My head spins. I should go home, back to my lonely apartment—but the thought leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Even Onyx wouldn’t be company tonight.
“Spend the night,” Duke says.
I shake my head in half-hearted protest but he’ll hear nothing of it. He pulls back the sheets, fluffs the pillows, and we crawl into bed. I roll onto my side and Duke pushes up against me, his arm wrapped tight around my waist, his lips nuzzled into my neck.
My last thought before drifting off to sleep is how ironic and unfair it is that the worst evening of my life also turned out to be my best.
Chapter 7
I stare at Duke’s handsome face, so peaceful in sleep. His chiseled jawline is relaxed, his eyes softly closed. It takes all my willpower not to trace my finger along his cheek, to arouse him from his deep slumber.
I lift my head and glance at the alarm clock beside him. 5 a.m. A smile curls on my lips. At least another hour of sleep before I need to get up and go to—
Reality sets in and my breath hitches…I’m not going into work this morning. Instead, I’ll meet Forrest at the police station where we’ll hopefully learn more about Marissa’s murder, and what, if anything, Jake had to do with it. Anxiety pin pricks the back of my neck.
I shift backwards in an attempt to ease out from under Duke’s grip. The motion stirs him awake. He opens his eyes, blinks, blinks again, as though he’s forgotten who’s in his bed.
“Hey,” I say, gently.
He licks his lips. “Hey.”
I’ve never been good at “morning after” talk. I don’t do “one night stands” and my previous boyfriend and I never had sleep overs. Shit, we barely had sex. I’m suddenly shy about my innocence, wondering how much of my naivety seeped through last night.
I swallow the unease that comes with deep insecurity. This moment is totally out of my comfort zone and I need Duke to lead.
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “You have the most stunning morning face.”
My stomach flips over. “You’re being generous.” I’m sure mascara trails down my cheeks, and my hair, always unruly, will resemble a bird’s nest that even the most aggressive product won’t tame. It strikes me that I’m without any personal belongings, not even a toothbrush. I run my tongue over the top of my teeth to clear away some of the pastiness.
Duke leans forward and brushes his mouth against my forehead, my cheeks, then softly closes in on my lips. My body tingles in response. His hand slides behind my neck and cups me to him as his tongue darts into my mouth. A soft sigh breathes from my throat.
The low groan that comes from somewhere deep inside of him sets me aflame. The kiss becomes more passionate, intense, until I am consumed by his taste. Shivers run from the tips of my fingers and curl my toes. I’m desperate for him to touch me, to pull me against his warm body and feel the length of him inside me again.
Duke’s lips trail from my mouth to my throat, down across my collar bone. My nipples go instantly erect. Duke takes one into his mouth and gently sucks, rolling the nub around his tongue in slow, torturous swirls.
“Duke…”
His eyes lift to mine, and in his, I find sincerity. The ice around my heart cracks, threatening to shatter and leave me vulnerable and bare.
I close my eyes and pretend I’m not scared, convince myself to believe in this. In him. In us. I give in to the moment, because I have no choice—I am butter under his magical touch. His hands and mouth expertly travel my body, sending ripples of pleasure as his beard brushes up against my skin, tickling and teasing, drawing me closer to the edge. I arch my back, pushing myself into him, and his tongue sweeps across my abdomen.
“I want to taste that sweet pussy,” he says.
And just like that, my legs spread in invitation.
His response is a low, throaty grunt before his head dips between my thighs. He inhales, breath hot against me, and my clit throbs. The heat from his mouth sends erotic shivers up and down my spine. It’s surreal how even the tiniest touch produces some of the most intense pleasure I’ve ever known.
His tongue glides along my wet slit and I gasp in shock. He moves slowly against me, drawing small circles around my pulsing clit. His hands grip my thighs and he dives in, plunging his tongue deep into my pussy with a greediness that is all consuming..
Yes. God, yes.
My orgasm begins to build, fast. Too fast. I writhe under him and he pulls away. “You taste so God damn good,” he says.
“Not like this, Duke” I say. “I don’t want to come like this.”
I ache to feel the length of his body against mine, feel his hard cock deep inside me. I want our pleasure to happen at once, together. Slowly and with purpose.
The words don’t come out, but somehow Duke knows.
He positions himself over me and I can smell the muskiness of my wetness. His beard glistens with it. My heart pounds against my ribcage. I reach between us and take his hard cock in my hand, rubbing the end with my thumb in small circles. His
head tilts back. A growl erupts in the back of his throat. “Jesus, Hailey, you’re driving me insane.”
I love that. Love that I can do that to him.
His hands move to my hips and dig in.
I reach around to grab his ass—his hard, firm ass—and pull him against me. His cock presses against my pussy, its girth slick against my clit. I am desperate for him to be inside me, prepared to beg.
“Slow down baby,” he says. “I need to put on a condom.”
He reaches for one, and tears open the package. I slide it out of his hand. “Let me,” I say.
I slide the condom over his dick. His response is fast, explosive. He lays me flat against the mattress, positions himself over me, lifts his hips and slides in. I gasp. He’s so big, so fucking big. “You like the feel of me inside you, baby?”
His eyes glisten with desire.
“God, yes,” I breathe.
He moves slowly, grinding his hips against mine.
Jesus fuck. I am completely at his mercy as he presses through all my layers with ease.
His hand slides down my body and pulls my leg up onto his hip. Our eyes lock as he fucks me, gently at first. I tilt my head back to avoid crying out, and his mouth finds my nipple. His teeth scrape against it before he takes it into his mouth. I hover on the brink of orgasm. He fucks harder and I cry out, biting my lip and bucking against him.
“You’re going to make me come,” I say, breathless.
“Look at me,” he commands.
As I do, the emotions trapped inside my chest begin to spill over. The intensity is too much, too fucking much. I am vulnerable and safe and scared and overwhelmed. My eyes start to blur.
“Hailey,” he breathes. “I want you to come now.”
My panting grows more frantic. “Now?”
He thrusts his cock deep inside me and grunts. “Now.”
Fuck, now. His mouth devours mine just as my pussy floods. I feel it grip his dick, sucking it deeper into me. His fingers dig into my shoulders with a grip that will surely leave a mark. His cock spasms inside of me as he pumps harder, thrusting against my swollen pussy, deeper and faster until a second orgasm rips through me.