Sweet Spot

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Sweet Spot Page 10

by Monroe, Evie


  She looked up at me. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve seen enough people who would just kill to be normal. My father is a surgeon in L.A. He used to focus on reconstructive surgery, so people who’d been in accidents or kids with birth defects. He did amazing work. Gratifying work. Worthwhile work. He was my hero; the reason I wanted to be a surgeon,” I said. “But a few years ago, he went and sold out. He went where the money was. He’s now Hollywood’s most famous plastic surgeons, specializing in breast implant surgery.”

  She raised her eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Wanted me to join his practice. But fuck that. I didn’t get into medicine to make money, especially giving boob jobs to the Hollywood elite. I got into it to help people. I thought he did, too. But I was wrong. So when I got back home from Africa, I decided to take the time out to think, ended up here with my brothers, and never looked back.” I shrugged, rubbing the pad of my thumb over the soft skin of her shoulder. “My dad gave me a quarter-life crisis, I guess you could say. When you find out your hero is a piece of shit. You know?”

  “I know exactly what you mean,” she said.

  She didn’t say it, but I could tell from the way she’d teared up earlier, talking about her dad in the old days. Slade was her hero. And look what the bastard had done to her.

  I traced my finger along a yellowing bruise on her upper arm. My father had disappointed me, and I’d walked out of his house and never turned back, over four years ago. But as I lay there, I thought I should probably give him and my mother a call. They were still family, after all. And looking at Cait, I knew there were a lot of shittier hands I could have been dealt.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Caitlyn

  I dozed off in Drake’s arms, and when I woke up, the sun was sinking in the sky, the light glistening over the Pacific in the distance.

  I thought of my mother, my pulse spiking when I pictured my father, his open hand raised above her. I cringed, thinking of every one of the horrible bruises my mother had endured at his hands.

  Then I looked at Drake, and my breathing calmed a little. He was easily the only thing going right in my life right now.

  And I’d slept next to him. Since when did I ever actually sleep with a guy? Since when did I ever give a guy a second chance? Usually I’d leave in the middle of the night without a word, always moving onto the next thing, never giving anyone the time of day. And I’d never had any problems with it.

  But with Drake, I couldn’t resist. I was drawn to him, compelled to be near him. It wasn’t just the offer of protection. It was everything. He was so deliciously sexy, sweet, hot, smart, everything. He turned my body into one massive electric charge.

  Reluctantly, I disentangled my arm from his and put my palm flat against my heart to keep it from beating out of my chest. I didn’t even know Drake, maybe all those electric feelings were just lust.

  But whatever I was feeling for Drake didn’t matter where Slade was concerned. Drake had touched me. And he was a Cobra.

  That made him a dead man in Slade’s eyes.

  Drake might have thought he could protect me, but I understood why Slade’s men cowered before him. He’d earned that plenty of times over. Maybe Drake just didn’t know what he was up against, that he was walking into a snake pit.

  I didn’t know Drake that well, obviously, but I couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to him because of me.

  Taking a deep breath, I slipped out of bed, found Drake’s t-shirt in the pile of discarded clothing in the bathroom and put it on. It smelled so good, masculine and enticing, making me want to curl my body around him and just bathe in him for a little while. But I had things on my mind.

  I went to my phone and saw a text from Martie: Don’t worry about me. I made it home fine. Thanks for all your help. Bitch.

  And then another: You are alive, aren’t you?

  And one last one: OMG, please tell me you didn’t go home with a guy who chopped you into little pieces and now you’re in little baggies in someone’s freezer.

  The last text pulled a laugh out of me. That was Martie; her mind always spiraled out to the absolute worst conclusion. I quickly texted her back: I’m ok. I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up. Not chopped up. Glad you’re ok. Will tell you later.

  Then I put in a call to my mother, my fingers shaking as I gripped the phone. When I thought for sure it would go to voicemail, someone suddenly picked up. “Hello?”

  “Mom!” I cried out, pulling the phone closer to my mouth, as if I could hug her through it. “Oh! Are you okay?”

  “Cait. Sweetheart. Where have you been?” Her voice sounded strong. Maybe a little tired, but not too bad. She always sounded chipper, even during her darkest moments. It was the reason why I loved my mother so much. Tears sprang to my eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I had some crazy things happen to me last night. I can’t tell you. But, are you all right?”

  “I’m okay, sweetheart. It’s nothing I can’t handle. Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. I got held up. I’m so, so sorry. I really tried to be home on time. But I got caught up and I’ve been so worried that I . . .” A sob caught in in my throat.

  My mother must’ve heard it, or sensed it, with her intuitive mom powers. “Oh, sweetheart. It’s all right, dear. Of course, your father is mad. But I was, too. He’s just as worried about you as I am. I’m glad you’re safe.”

  I frowned. Being worried about me shouldn’t have included punching my mother. “Where is he now?”

  “Oh, you know. He’s at the club. He has things to do and can’t hang out here with me all day. When are you coming home?”

  I looked back toward the bedroom and swallowed. “I don’t know if I am, Mom. I guess you can say I’m making other plans. And they include you.”

  “Honey, what the hell are you talking about?

  “Mom. You and I have always talked about getting out. Leaving. What if I found someone who could help us?”

  She was silent for a few seconds. “You and I both know that no one can help us. And even if they did get us out of here, he’d find us. Slade’s a powerful man. He’ll never let us go.”

  “Yes, but what if I found someone more powerful? Who promises to look after us no matter what?”

  She laughed bitterly. “Ain’t no one in the world like that, sweetheart.”

  I sighed. “But what if there was? Daddy isn’t God, no matter what he’s put into your head. He’s not all-powerful. Something—or someone—could stop him. Wouldn’t it be worth it to at least try? So maybe for once we wouldn’t have to walk around on eggshells wondering if today is the day he finally kills one of us?”

  Her voice changed suddenly, from warm to hollow. “Caitlyn. I don’t know where you are or who you’re with, or what you think you might be doing, but I promise you, it’s not going to work. And it’s only going to piss your dad off. Which will only make things worse.”

  “Mom!”

  “Listen to me. If you really did find someone to help you, then go. Run as far away as you can from this place and pray to God he doesn’t find you. But I’m not going anywhere. If both of us leave, he’ll definitely come after us. He can’t lose both of us. I’ll be fine here on my own.”

  “No, Mom. No. He’ll kill you. I’m not leaving you alone with him. Come with me.”

  “Honey. This conversation is over,” She growled. That was it. When my mom said it like that, I knew there was no convincing her.

  But it didn’t mean I had to give up trying to protect her. I’d never do that.

  “All right,” I finally said. “Please be careful.”

  “I will. And you stay safe, wherever you are,” my mother said. “I love you, no matter what.”

  I forced back the tears that were threatening to spill out of my eyes. “I love you, too, Mom.”

  I ended the call, put my phone in my purse, and padded back to the bedroom. I crept up to the bed and took in the breathtaking sight of Drake
’s naked body, tangled in the sheets, face down on the bed. His tanned skin was a stark contrast to the white sheets, his broad back and bulging biceps on full display, wrapped around a pillow.

  And just the sight of him was enough to make my knees go weak.

  I slipped out of his shirt, put a knee on the mattress, and leaned over, smelling the shampoo and soap and sex on him. I laid a hand on his big shoulder, savoring the warmth of him, then slid my fingers down his back, under the sheets, over the dimpled curve of his ass. My nipples puckered as I slid my body closer to him, stretching out against him. He was so warm and inviting, I could’ve stayed like this forever.

  The sheets rustled, and the mattress creaked as he shifted fully onto his back, and I held a breath as his beautifully muscled body came into view. As a doctor, he studied the human body and appreciated its form, but damned if he didn’t have the most exquisite human form I’d ever seen.

  I could see every muscle in such detail, like he should’ve been a part of one of his anatomy textbooks. I took in his powerful legs, the V between his hips, and that massive cock. Washboard abs, hard chest, and handsome-as-hell face. He was such a man, it was almost enough to make me weep, knowing that such perfection had been inside me.

  I reached out and touched his stubble on his chin, sweeping a finger up to his jaw. I kissed the shell of his ear and he lazily turned his face to the touch. Those thick eyelashes fluttered, and his amber eyes fell on me, sleep-hazed and smoky. “Hey, baby,” he said, his voice full of grit. “You okay?”

  I nodded. He reached up and took a tendril of my hair, wrapping it around his finger.

  “Come be with me,” he murmured, still lost in the throes of sleep. He snaked a hand around my waist, and I pressed myself up against him, absorbing the warmth of his gorgeous body.

  Next to something so powerful and virile, it was almost easy to believe that nothing bad could happen. That I could finally find the protection I desperately sought. That maybe for once, in a very long time, I wouldn’t have to worry about anything.

  I’d have to convince my mom, though. I couldn’t leave her alone with that psycho.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Drake

  There was nothing sexier than watching Slade’s pretty little daughter lying spent in my bed.

  Her shiny red hair was falling over my chest, smelling like shampoo. Her soft cheek pressed up against my bicep, her warm breath on my skin. Smooth legs tangled with mine. I lie there on my back, watching her, wondering if I’d ever get enough of this.

  We’d already been in bed, fucking and cuddling, for twenty hours. That had to be some sort of record. But I fucking loved watching her come, watching that little uninhibited spitfire of a girl completely surrender herself to me.

  And right then? All I wanted to do was see the look on her face when she came again.

  But we had things to plan. I had to get in touch with Cullen and tell him that I had to abort my plan to drop her off at her house. He needed to know first, because every minute Cait spent in Cobras territory was a minute too long. If Slade or the Fury had any idea where she was, she’d be in deeper shit than she was now.

  Careful not to disturb her, I grabbed my phone with my free hand and thumbed in a text to him one-handed. Problem with the original plan. Can’t talk on the phone. I need you over at my place, stat.

  A moment later, he came back with, Fuck man. Your early morning texts are starting to piss me off. WTF?

  I sucked in a breath, my eyes roaming to the ceiling. Then I typed in Just come over please. He was going to go apeshit when he saw Cait here.

  He replied back, Be there in 30.

  I’d deal with it. Cullen would understand. He’d know I couldn’t very well leave her there while Slade was beating the shit out of her mom. Fuck, I felt like shit just knowing her mom went through that and we’d left.

  Setting my phone down, I looked at Cait as she slept. I ran my hand up her back, deciding which part of her I wanted to devour first, inhaling the smell of her skin. Then I dipped my head and kissed her forehead gently.

  Her eyelids fluttered against my chest and she opened her sweet blue eyes. I swept her hair to the side and traced my thumb against her lower lip. “Hey.”

  “Hi.” Her eyes searched me out and she sat up suddenly, afraid. “I shouldn’t be here, should I?”

  I knew what that look meant, and I was flattered she’d think of me. But she didn’t have to. One thing I had that those other men didn’t have? My brothers. I wasn’t concerned in the least.

  I stroked her ass cheek. “Yeah, you should. What are you worried about, baby? I can take care of myself.”

  She gave me a pout. “You don’t know what my daddy can do.”

  “Yeah, I do. I heard what you said. But maybe you don’t know what I can do?” I gave her a wink and dragged her lower body up to me, tangling her legs with mine. “Want me to show you?”

  She smiled weakly. “I know very well what you can do where that’s concerned. But I don’t want you to get hurt because of me, Drake. I . . .”

  I reached for her, cupping her face. “I know. I get it. You don’t have to worry that you being here’s going to put me in any danger. Danger is my middle name. I can handle it. All right?”

  She let out a long breath and nodded, then settled against me. “I’m just not used to this. You know. Encore engagements.”

  I chuckled softly. “I think after last night, we’ve gone past the encore. We’re frequent flyers at this point.”

  She gave me a look. “That’s probably because I don’t know what else to do. I’m not good at dating or whatever the hell men and women are supposed to do together.”

  I cocked an eyebrow at her. She was totally serious. Well, fuck. She’d never had a serious guy? I couldn’t say I’d done much better, but I’d at least gone out to eat with a girl or taken her for a ride on my bike or just shot the shit with her. Cait had been so afraid of her father catching her that she hadn’t done any of that.

  “Gotcha. You want to eat, or watch television, or do something else? We could definitely do that instead,” I suggested.

  “Well. I am kind of hungry,” she admitted.

  I kicked off the sheets. “All right. Cool. Your wish is my command. I’ll make you breakfast.”

  I pulled on my boxers and handed her one of my shirts. We went out to the kitchen together and I started the coffee maker. She sat on the counter while I started to crack eggs into a bowl. She stared at me in astonishment, like I was performing some amazing magic trick for her.

  “Wow. You’re such a grown-up,” she said to me, her elbows on the countertop, her chin resting in her hands as she watched.

  I raised my eyebrow at her as I turned up the burner on the stove, then opened up the fridge to get some milk. “What do you expect me to be?”

  She blushed. “No, I’m just impressed. Full fridge, clean house, making your own breakfast. It’s like you’ve got your shit together.”

  I had to laugh at that. “It’s an illusion. Trust me.”

  “No. If it is an illusion, it’s a pretty good one. I mean, I live at home. I’ve always lived at home. My mother still does my laundry. I guess I’m very sheltered. I wanted to get my own place, but . . .”

  She trailed off, and I knew what she was getting at. Her father wouldn’t let her. He kept her in his own little prison, didn’t he? What an asshole. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-four,” she said sheepishly, looking just about half that. “You?”

  “Twenty-nine next month.”

  “Hmm. Anyway, it’s probably for the best. I think if I was off on my own, I’d probably end up lighting the house on fire or something equally dangerous.”

  “Fuck that. You’re an adult. Your father’s been keeping you down, trying to keep you helpless and reliant on him,” I said to her, waving a spatula at her to make the point. “The sooner you break free of that, the better.”

  “Yeah, I totally understand that, but
how am I supposed to break free?” she asked.

  “I texted Cullen. He’s on his way.”

  Her eyes widened and she crossed her arms over her chest. “He is? Isn’t he going to be pissed when he sees me here?”

  Just then, the doorbell buzzed.

  Her jaw dropped, and she jumped off the counter like someone had lit a fire under her ass. “Great!” She looked down at herself. “You could’ve given me a warning!”

  I stopped whisking the eggs and set the bowl on the counter. “Don’t worry. He’s not the president of the United States. You’re appropriately dressed.”

  She swiped her hair behind her ears and gave me a doubtful look as I yelled, “Door’s open!”

  Cullen pushed through the door, holding his helmet under his arm. He took one look at Cait. His expression didn’t change, but he breathed, “Fuck.”

  She waved at him and rolled her eyes. “Love you, too, Cullen.”

  Ignoring her, he strode over to me and tossed his helmet on the counter. “So? What’s this all about? Why is she still here?”

  She gnawed on her lips. “You know, I think I’ll go and get changed,” she said, heading back toward the bedroom.

  Cullen watched her leave, his eyes on her ass. Then he looked at me with fire in his eyes. “Couldn’t let her go, could you? Have fun last night?”

  “Look. I tried to drop her off. But Slade was there.”

  “You actually saw Slade?” he asked, surprised.

  I nodded. “Well, we weren’t formally introduced. I went to drop her off and he was in the house, wailing on her mom. He was fucking incensed. The bastard has a hell of a temper. Cait’s got bruises all over her body. I couldn’t just leave her there. In the mood he was in, he’d have fucking killed her.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Shit. I heard that about him. Moody son of a bitch.” He reached into the pocket of his kutte for his cigarettes but then probably remembered whose house he was in and put them back in his pocket. “Did he see you?”

 

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