CALLIE (The Naughty Ones Book 1)

by Kristina Weaver

  “No. No I didn’t, Chase. I stayed in my room for weeks, months and then when I couldn’t stop the pain, I chugged a bunch of pills. I only survived because they found me and rushed me to the hospital. Even then I was so angry that they hadn’t just let me die. Mom was furious and my dad looked so uncomfortable—”

  “They should have helped you!” he yells, and I now see the true extent of his anger when he bolts to his feet and slams a fist into the wall, his hand drilling a hole into the dry wall.

  He punches a few more times before getting himself under control and turns to me with flaming eyes.

  “You said you remember bright lights.”

  My eyes close and I sigh. I should have known he’d connect that one tiny piece and come to the end result as I had. Chase, my Alex really, has always been way too smart to overlook even the tiniest detail.

  “Yes. So now you know. I married my tormentor and spent a decade being a fool. I vacationed with them all, went to their weddings, held their children. I-I let them fool me.”

  He’s shaking his head even as I say those shame-filled, angry words and I smile and hold up a hand.

  “They’re the ones who beat you, aren’t they? That’s also why you went after them. They ruined us both.”

  “No, babe. They ruined themselves,” He yells, stalking over to pull me up and into his chest. “We’re going to make them pay for what they did.”

  “Yes,” I say, pushing closer. “I have a plan.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  Chapter 35

  Chase

  Remy is lying sprawled over my chest, her soft exhalations floating over my skin, soothing the coldness that threatens to form when I think about everything that she’s told me.

  At first I’d been shocked, horrified to hear it and know that I’d failed her yet again. If I had been there instead of running away to lick my wounds, she would never have tried to take her life. She would have had me to comfort and protect her instead of those bozos she calls parents ignoring her suffering.

  And she would have had me to lean on instead of that ingrate Carson weaseling his way back in. I now understand why she went back to him and it eases the betrayal I’d felt when she'd gone back to him so quickly after I was gone.

  I didn’t even realize that I'd been resenting her for that weakness until now, but now that I know why, that she was hurt and alone and afraid, it eases the sting.

  And it compounds my guilt.

  I’ll make them pay for this. Now, I will not only take their material possessions but their families as well. By the time I’m done they will have nothing. Be nothing.

  I’ll make them feel every fearful drumbeat of that young Remy’s heart beating when she’d run and tried to hide. I’ll terrorize them and expose them, just as they had her.

  And then I will find the one responsible for her latest trauma because now I know—feel it in my bones—that these two events are connected. I just have to find the culprit.

  That one won’t live to suffer—I’ll choke the life from them myself.

  But for now, I will go along with Remy’s plans and beard that nest of vipers, if only to watch them squirm.

  A small smile tips my mouth and I pull her closer, wanting to chuckle at the plans she laid out. It turns out my sweet Remy and I aren’t only matched in the bedroom. The woman is just as diabolically vengeful as I am—and I fucking love it.

  She’ll be a fierce protector of our children, and I pity any poor fool who even so much as breathes on her cubs when we start our family. She’s bloodthirsty and vicious—and all mine.

  After kissing her and crowing to myself about my perfect match—okay, and kicking my own arse for the time we’ve lost due to my own narrow-minded misconceptions where she’s concerned—I’d sat and listened to her plans.

  She is nasty when she’s provoked, let me just say that. I can hardly wait to see the looks on those people’s faces when we’re done. Her idea is to mind-fuck them to the point where we just sit back and watch them tear each other apart.

  Not my idea of fun since I like to get my hands dirty in matters like these, but according to her, she’s going to I Know What You Did Last Summer them and enjoy the show, just as they all enjoyed watching her unravel.

  The first step, according to Remy, is getting into the thick of things. To do that, she’s already reconciled with her dad. Apparently, he’s glad to hear from her, and not so accepting of his wife’s banishment.

  That’s all fine and well and makes me reconsider ruining the man as I’d planned. At least till he’s gotten us into the circle we need to be in, that is.

  Simple, straightforward and so sneaky is her plan that I’d gotten hard as rock just listening to her plot and crow with anticipation. Unfortunately, by the time we got done she was yawning and swaying on her feet.

  So no sex.

  That’s the reason I’m sleepless and praying for dawn to arrive. A quick morning shag should help calm the raging I feel in my chest.

  “Stop thinking so hard. I can feel it,” Remy mumbles, propping herself up to blink down at me sleepily.

  “You’re supposed to be sleeping,” I mutter, pulling her closer and onto my chest.

  “Who can sleep when your boner is trying to rip the sheets?” she quips, surprising me when she sits up and swings her leg over mine, straddling me.

  From this angle, I have an unfettered view of her creamy skin and every indecently sexy bit that I’ve been starving for. My cock goes impossibly harder and I groan when she lowers fully, bringing her pussy in full contact with my dick.

  She doesn’t move, just grins down at me, her hair flowing over her breast, her mouth curved in a seductive smile that makes my blood pound hotter. I feel my heart go soft as butter.

  Usually, I’d be on her, pinning her beneath me and taking back control by now. I hate being the bottom. I can’t stand feeling vulnerable in this position but as she perches there, her wet heat seeping through the sheets to coat my erection, I have no thought other than the need to see this beautiful woman ride me with abandon.

  “Christ, Remy, babe, you’re killing me.”

  My groan gets another salacious smile before she lifts up and flicks the sheet away, bringing us into stark contact. The feeling is pure heaven and hell at the same time. I grind up, slipping through her cleft, using her heat to create a gliding friction that only serves to intensify my need.

  “Not killing, Chase, loving” she purrs, starting up a gliding rhythm that has her sliding up and down on me, her muscles hugging me like a glove as we continue to grind, staring into each other's eyes.

  When I feel my chains slipping to the point that all I want to do is shove her down and ram into her roughly, I close my eyes and swallow. Her eyes, God, they make this so much more intense than just straight fucking.

  “Uhuh, Chase. Open those amazing eyes and watch.” She chides.

  I obey and almost roll my eyes back into my head when she rises, grips my dick and starts lowering onto me. Slowly. God, so slowly I feel every tight inch, every soft, slick patch of her sheath gliding over me.

  Our eyes hold and I shudder at the intense emotion I see reflected in her gaze. She’s open and silently willing me to see the love she keeps voicing. My very own little lass is begging me with her eyes and heat to see what we can have.

  The connection is intense, deep, and consuming, made that much deeper by the fact that the only place we’re touching is where we’re joined. And then she starts moving, rising and falling languidly, her tight heat enveloping me fully before pulling up and repeating.

  The pace is slow, measured and calculated to drive me crazy. By the time I feel her tire and falter, her thighs are trembling with strain and I’m so hard and desperate I’m holding back my climax with an effort.

  “Remy.”

  “No.” she gasps, pushing my hands away when I go to flip her over. “Let me. Pleeeaase,” She wails, her tummy quivering when she plants her hands on my chest and st
arts speeding up, her eyes glassy yet focused on me in a way that strips me bare.

  “Let me help,” I groan, unable to stop my hips from thrusting up on her downslide, my dick desperate to go deeper, harder, faster.

  “Ahh, fuck,” she wails. I feel her arms give out a second before she face plants on my chest.

  I waste no time and flip her over, never breaking the heated connection, my eyes seeking out and pinning hers.

  “You’re so hot inside.”

  And she is. She’s scorching me, burning me up, stripping away the layers I’d put up so long ago.

  Remy moans and smiles up at me, her soft aqua eyes stealing my breath.

  “Love you.”

  I’m coming before I know it, my body reacting to her words before I can thrust. I try to stop because I know she’s not with me. I need her pleasure as much as I need my own, but I can’t stop. My body is done; uncontrolled, uncaring as it twitches and shudders into hers, my dick emptying so hard I feel wrung out and spent by the time it’s done.

  I collapse in a heap on her, knowing my weight is too much but unable to move a muscle.

  “Sorry babe. I’ll—”

  She giggles at my slurred words and turns her face into my neck, kissing me with a sigh.

  “No. Just lift your hips a little.”

  I obey and almost have a coronary when her fingers swoop down between us and she starts a hard, flicking motion right there…

  “Fuuuuck.”

  With just a few flicks of her finger, I feel her coming and the sensation of having her bring herself off with my dick buried deep in that slick, clenching muscle is so hot I feel myself fill and lengthen once more.

  Remy must feel it too because she gasps loudly and keeps rubbing, her clit going so hot and hard I have to grit my teeth at the sensation. When she’s done and panting up at me in awe, I lean down and kiss her gently before pulling back with a smirk that I know looks dark and menacing.

  “That was the appetizer.”

  Chapter 36

  Remy

  It’s amazing what a little honesty and a lot of really good make-up sex can do for a girl. I feel amazing, fantastic, reborn as the early morning light filters through the windows, bathing Chase in a murky glow that shadows some of him and leaves other highlighted.

  His back.

  He’s lying on his stomach facing me, one arm thrown over his head. From this angle I can see the tattoo I never really got to inspect since Chase very rarely sleeps deeply enough for me to get this close unless I’m pinned beneath him.

  Scooting up, I lean in a little closer and squint at the design so hard it takes me a while to figure it out. It’s a name done in swirling streaks of dark reds and black.

  Remy.

  My name…it’s designed with my name.

  Tears immediately flow and I’m touching the tattoo reverently before I know it. It’s a dark print, something that from afar looks like blood. No, like a bloody wound. But, once close, you can see the care and artistry that went into it.

  He’s got my name inked into him, as if I’m supposed to be there—

  “I had it done about a year after I left. I didn’t want to forget,” he says, making me startle.

  My fingertips stroke back over it and I breathe deep and bite into my lips before speaking.

  “It looks like a bloody wound.”

  “Yes, because at that stage of my life I felt raw and wounded,” he says softly.

  Ah, so this is what he never said last night. Maybe I was expecting it because I feel no surprise at his words or their implication. Chase felt hurt and wounded by me. Maybe not physically, but his ordeal was a direct result of knowing me. If not for me and my ‘self-examination,’ Chase would have gone through school and graduated. He’d have been there for his dad and done all the usual things that young men do.

  I’ve taken a part of him away without realizing it. It hurts to know that I did so much harm to him that he felt the need to ink me into his skin.

  On one hand it’s flattering, but really, I can’t ignore the clear message there. Chase, no Alex, bled for me, just for knowing me.

  “Don’t Remy. Don’t do that babe. I did this a long time ago, before I knew the whole truth.”

  I pull my hand back and lean into the headboard, feeling a little sick, and so far away from the bliss of before that I can’t think past the ache in my chest.

  Chase flips over and grabs my wrist, pulling me down and into his chest.

  “I—It was my fault they hurt you. If you’d never known me, if I’d just stayed on my side instead of hopping that fence, you could have stayed in Washington with your dad and been happy. They wouldn’t have hurt you.”

  “Oh, babe. No,” he murmurs, pulling my chin up so he can look straight into my eyes. “They did it because they’re cowards. Bullies. Idiots. They saw one of ‘their own’”—he sneers at the words—“Being more than an empty shell and that pissed them off. Never apologize for wanting more than the stupid role they set for you. You never belonged with them.”

  He says that last part so fiercely that I have to smile because I know, hope I know, what’s coming next. He doesn’t disappoint.

  “You always belonged to me.”

  ***

  “Chin up, Rem. Time to roll.”

  I grimace and primp at my hair when the house of one Terry Gruber comes into view. Fuck, I hate these assholes and yet I feel a thrill of excitement too at the prospect of being here to witness the second part of my plan.

  Just two days ago, Brick and the guys made a phone call to Brian, letting him know that ‘we know what you did to that girl in high school. How do you think the American public will feel if they ever see this tape senator?”

  That had been the beginning, but gosh, when I’d seen Brian the ass running out of his house in frantic panic, I’d turned to Chase and laughed so hard my belly ached.

  “Now that was well worth the wait.”

  Chase laughed too, despite the fact that we sat in the car for twenty minutes before Brian made his move. Dec had followed him right to Knox’s house, and while I have no idea what went on there, we do know that there were outgoing calls to Gruber, Denton and Velos. All the players are now engaged and, Lord above, am I looking forward to tonight’s fundraiser.

  All of the players will be there. I’ll get to watch them unravel one by one as Brick and Neil make phone calls to each of them. I’m so giddy at the thought of watching them flounder that I can’t sit still as we pull into the driveway of the stately mansion that still belongs to Gareth Knox Sr.—the house Jr. now lives in too, since Chase bankrupted him.

  Word is that his wife, Priscilla, isn’t too happy with him right now. I suspect that’s got more to do with those photos Chase sent to her of Gareth and his mistress screwing in his car, though.

  Heh.

  I almost float along beside Chase when the doorman announces us. We enter the house. I feel great, look great—in my deep blue ball gown with black crystals stitched into flower designs all over the skirt—and most of all, I feel powerful as Chase rests his arm over me and pulls me close, his face a study of satisfaction.

  “You ready, babe?” he asks, giving me a squeeze as we step into the ballroom and people start approaching.

  “Ready.”

  The first to approach us is Helena, my conniving, loose-limbed cousin. I paste on a radiant smile, though I’d like nothing more than to grab her head slam her face into my knee.

  “Remy. I-I am so glad to see you. You look lovely,” she whispers.

  “Lena.”

  Her name comes out a hard hiss and I feel Chase’s fingers dig into my hip slightly. He’d cautioned me not to raise trouble, but hell, I’m only human. And any normal woman would drop kick her skinny butt for such a gross betrayal.

  But heck, she did me a favor by banging Brian, didn’t she? Maybe I shouldn’t hold a grudge.

  “You look great too, though a little skinny.”

  Chase strokes
my hip and I see Helena relax and give me a tentative smile.

  “There’s something I need to talk to you about, Rem. It’s really…oh there you are darling!” she says suddenly, her voice a cheery quiver that makes my skin crawl.

  Or maybe that’s just the fact that Brian has walked up and is standing in front of us in all his pomp and glory.

  “Remington.”

  Oh gosh. Really?

  “Carson, I don’t believe I’ve yet had the displeasure of meeting you. Chase Marshall, Remy’s husband.”

  I flat out grin and have to stifle a good giggle at that. Possessive oaf. Brian turns a dark shade of crimson bordering on purple. I glimpse Lena sucking her cheeks in, and from the corner of my eye I see her glancing at me surreptitiously, her own eyes dancing with glee.

  “Pretty soon to be married, isn’t it, Remington? The ink hardly had a chance to dry.”

  Oh no you did not Brian.

  “What can I say, Carson, she knows a real man when she sees one. Now if you’ll excuse us.”

  He doesn’t qualify or say anything more before nodding to Lena and steering me away. I see a lot of old faces as we make our way through the throng. My mother wears a pinched look, and she snubs me in an overly obvious way by turning her back to me as we approach.

  “Remy, girl, there you are.”

  “Hi Dad.”

  I lean in for an uncomfortable air kiss and then Chase shakes his hand. I see dad wince a little and refrain from giggling. Men.

  Mom is still turning the cold shoulder. I feel Chase tense beside me before launching into a dreary recap of the business market or something like that.

  My gaze starts roaming and I spot Dec’s blond head towering over the crowd where he’s currently flirting with some chick I’m sure I should know but can’t quite remember.

  Brick’s perusing the buffet, and Hensley can’t be more than a few steps away even though I can’t see him at the moment. The guy is always close by me, and I can honestly say that besides Liv, he’s one of my pals.

  “Remy, babe, let’s go get something to eat.”

  “Bye, dad.”