by Ashley Jade
It’s why Asher never went public with what I overheard him tell the police at the hospital regarding Kyle and our father.
Why he made a very sizable donation to the police department after the shooting happened and he inherited his will.
Asher paid them off with our father’s money because he wants those secrets to stay buried.
He paid them for their silence in order to save his reputation.
Just like our father did to me.
On instinct, my body locks up and my muscles clench. It’s best for everyone that I keep my distance…keep those skeletons confined.
“Preston,” Kit whispers, bringing me out of my thoughts.
Her eyes are wide with panic when I look at her. Like she knows the small thread keeping me together is a second away from snapping.
Like she can see my demons.
I release my grip so swiftly she nearly faceplants. “I don’t care about your little ya-ya sisterhood. A deal is a deal.”
She edges away, righting herself. “I know, but I can’t—”
“You have to.”
She juts her chin out. “And if I don’t?”
In one fell swoop, I grab her arms and haul her back on my lap, giving her no choice but to pay attention. And straddle me.
My dick twitches his approval of the current seating arrangement.
Kit, however, doesn’t. She tries to wiggle away, but I don’t let her. “If you don’t quit acting like a Neanderthal, I’m going to introduce your nuts to a cactus while you’re sleeping.”
“We can discuss what you want to do to my nuts later, my blushing bride.” She cringes, and I leer at her. “Right now, I’d prefer to talk about how I’ll divorce your ass so quick your pretty head will spin if you break your promise.”
Genuine hurt crosses her features. “You’d do that to me?”
“No.” Relief flashes across her face and I run my nose along her throat, inhaling that fruity scent of hers I can’t get enough of. “I’d do something much worse.” She tenses and my teeth graze the spot where her pulse is beating rapidly. “Like take every cent of your parents’ money and leave you with nothing.” I suck her skin into my mouth, intentionally marring her flesh. “That’s how important it is to me that you keep your word.”
I can feel the anger coursing through her limbs and I soothe the tender spot with my tongue. “I don’t want to hurt you or break your trust, Kit. But you’ll leave me no choice if you break mine first.” I cup her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. “Please don’t do that to me, angry girl. I can take betrayal from everyone else in my life…but not you.”
Whatever she sees in my expression causes hers to soften. “I won’t tell them we’re married or that you live in Vegas. I won’t ever betray you.”
“Thank—” White hot lust surges when she shifts, and her knee brushes my cock. “Kit.”
She leans in close, her dainty fingers skimming my throat. “But if you ever use my parents or their money to threaten me again…”
I snatch her wrist when she starts to squeeze.
Unfortunately, it distracts me enough that I fail to deflect the knee she pulls back and slingshots into my sac. “I will shove a stake right through that cold heart of yours and watch you bleed out.”
She hops off my lap and I clutch my throbbing balls. “Duly noted.”
Moments later we pull up to the motel and I instruct the driver to go around back. Then I reach into my pocket and pull out a burner phone.
Kit makes a face. “I didn’t know you had a phone.”
“I don’t.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Then what do you call that?”
I bring it to my ear. “A secret that’s none of your business.”
She scowls and it’s all I can do not to tug that plump lower lip into my mouth. Instead, I give her necklace a little tug. “I’m calling Max. I don’t want you going inside in case Campanelli shows up.” I jerk my head toward the driver. “But I also don’t want him to run off with my wealthy bride. I’ll be able to keep a better eye on you if Max meets me out here to talk.”
“If that’s the case, why don’t you just tell Max what’s going on over the phone?”
Angling my body toward her, I intentionally crowd her space. Perchance she’ll understand how annoying it is to have someone poking their head in where it doesn’t belong. “Because I don’t want you to hear what we’re talking about. It’s a private matter. Business stuff.”
She starts to rebuttal, but Max picks up after the third ring. “Who’s this?”
“It’s me. I need you to meet me out back.”
“Is this a setup?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You think I’d be in a position to tell you if it was?”
“Shit, I knew that little pink-haired hottie was trouble. Should have known she was lying about being your wife.”
I look at Kit, but she averts her gaze. “How do you know—”
“Give me a minute,” he yells, cutting me off. “Gotta go get my gun.”
“No,” I say, not only because I don’t want him falsely pointing it at Kit, but there’s no doubt in my mind he’s going to want to use it on me once I tell him I’m leaving. “This isn’t a set—”
The line goes dead. Perfect. Just the state of mind I want him in before I ask him to do me the biggest favor of my life.
Chapter 7
“I don’t need a suit,” Preston snaps as I grab his hand and tug both him and my suitcase through the airport’s shops.
“You need something more appropriate than a t-shirt and jeans.” I lead him into a men’s apparel store. “How is my nanna supposed to buy that you’re an overseas spy if you’re not even smart enough to wear a jacket while visiting Connecticut in the middle of winter?”
Preston stops walking. “You told her I was an overseas spy?”
I amble over to where the suits and ties are. “I told her your job was top secret.” I thumb through a few rows of shirts. “Your chest is what? Forty? Forty-two inches?”
“Forty-four,” he bites out, nudging me out of the way. “Forget the spy shtick. We should tell her I’m an international stockbroker who works for a private firm that requires me to travel overseas from time to time.” He peruses the ties next, dismissing an employee’s offer to help. “I interned at a stockbroker firm when I attended Yale. It will be easier for me to bullshit her if there’s some truth in my lies and I’m familiar with the subject matter.”
“Works for me. Besides, she might not even care.” I leave out that my nanna’s under the impression that I still work at the coffee shop instead of selling sex toys.
Preston would have a field day with that information and we still have a flight to board.
He picks up a slim black tie and I crinkle my nose. “Don’t you think that’s kind of…plain? You’re supposed to be impressing her, remember?”
He gives me a cocky smirk as he heads for the dressing room. “It’s not the suit that makes the man, Bishop.”
“Well, in that case, we’re really screwed,” I call out after him.
I’m trying on some sunglasses when the door to Preston’s dressing room opens ten minutes later and I nearly do a double take.
As much as it kills me to admit it, I have to hand it to him—he knows how to choose a suit. Everything from the solid black jacket to the matching slacks fits him perfectly. The dark tie which I thought would be understated, adds an element of sophistication and authority. It’s a great cut, one that showcases his build and highlights his razor-sharp jawline and prominent cheekbones. No one would ever guess it wasn’t professionally tailored, or that it came from a department store.
I’m feeling a little underdressed in my oversized sweater and leggings now.
“We closed five minutes ago,” a man reminds me curtly as Preston makes his way over to us, those eyes boring into me.
“Sold.” I swallow. “I mean I’ll take him.” I dig around my purse for my credit car
d. “It,” I correct. “We’ll take the damn suit.”
Preston’s lips twitch and he rips the tags off. “I’ll pay you back.”
“No, this was my idea, remember?” The man hands me my receipt and we walk out of the store. “You can put your clothes in my suitcase if you want.”
When he nods, I bend down and tug on the zipper. Unfortunately, due to my haste, I open the wrong end and my folder from the workshop I attended earlier falls out.
Before I have a chance to shove it back in, Preston picks it up and opens it. I can feel my cheeks heat as he reads it.
My embarrassment turns to confusion when a muscle in his jaw tics. “You work for Porn Rub?” I open my mouth to explain but then he booms, “You’re a porn star?”
I snatch the folder from him. “Wow, judgmental much?”
That only makes him madder. “About you fucking men on camera for money? You’re goddamn right I’m judging.”
I try to explain myself again, but his hands frame my face. The action is so unexpected it throws me off kilter. “You’re better than this shit. And this shit ends now, you hear me?”
“No, it doesn’t.” His eyes blaze, but I continue. “I’m not a porn star, I’m a social media manager for a company called Pretty Kitties. However, they merged with Porn Rub this week, so technically I’ll be working for them, too. It’s complicated.” I wag a finger in his face. “But for the record, even if I did do porn, you have no right to tell me what I can and can’t do with my body.” My nose turns up. “And don’t you dare stand there and act like you’re the new chief of the moral police. We both know you’re not concerned about the porn stars you watch on your screen when you rub one out.”
I can practically see smoke coming out of his ears, but he stays silent.
Stuffing the folder inside, I zip up my luggage. “Is there anything else you need before we check in?”
I follow his gaze to a video poker machine. “I’ll meet you at the gate in a few.”
I latch onto his arm, halting his movements. It’s safe to say he still hasn’t gotten a handle on his gambling issues if all he can think about is playing poker when there are people who want to kill him and we’re about to board a flight.
“Not really the best time to try your luck, P.”
Tension lines his face and I know he wants to argue, but I reach for his hand. “There will be plenty of time to gamble if we can get through the next twenty-four hours, okay?”
He squeezes my hand harder as he gives the slot machine one last glance. “Yeah, okay.”
I let the hostile bite in his tone roll off my back as we make our way to the ticket counter.
“You brought a friend with you this time.”
I’m so busy rummaging inside my purse for my identification I don’t realize the pretty girl at the counter isn’t talking to me. “We’re not exactly friends, but yeah, we’re together. He’s my husband.”
Her face twists in confusion when I glance up. Beside me, Preston goes rigid.
I hand over my ID and look between them. “You two know each other?”
I don’t even know why I’m bothering to ask when I’m ninety-nine percent sure I already know.
Preston, as per his usual modus operandi, doesn’t answer, but the girl gives me an icy smile. “You can say that.” She presses down on her keyboard with so much vigor I’m surprised the keys don’t fly off.
Yup, I was right on the money. The poor girl is yet another casualty of Preston’s pecker. Maybe I should do something good for womankind and insist my new husband wear a ride at your own risk sign around his neck.
We finish up at the kiosk and I glare at him. “Is there any woman in the tri-state area you haven’t screwed?”
I want to wipe the smug look off his face when he says, “Yeah, my wife.”
Disgust ripples through me as I breeze past him and find a seat in the waiting terminal. “You’re gross.”
“Wow, judgmental much?”
His mocking tone only infuriates me more. “About you being a skank and screwing countless women?” I smile sardonically and dish his own words back to him. “You’re goddamn right I’m judging.”
He plops down on the seat next to me. “I don‘t screw countless women.” His voice drops low enough so only I can hear. “But for the record, even if I did, you have no right to tell me what I can and can’t do with my body.”
My teeth grind together. I abhor when he turns the mirror around and highlights my own faults. “Point taken.”
A quiver whizzes up my spine when his lips brush the spot under my ear. I hate how sensitive my body is and how it reacts to his touch despite my brain’s reminder that he’s not only a guy but a jackass too. Almost as much as I detest the fact that Preston uses it to get the upper hand.
“Say the word and it ends.” I’m about to ask him to clarify, but he presses an open mouth kiss to my neck and whispers, “Tell me you don’t want me having sex with anyone else and I won’t.”
The conviction in his tone is so absolute I believe him, and the urge to tell him not to is so severe I have to gulp down the words.
My head whirls because my reaction makes absolutely no sense. Who Preston has sex with shouldn’t bother me. And when I take the time to stop and objectively scrutinize the thought, it doesn’t.
My body doesn’t agree though because my stomach churns and something that feels a whole lot like jealousy stirs in my blood.
I almost want to laugh when I realize. Of course, I’m jealous. It goes without saying that I’m supposed to be the most important person in his life now that we’re married. At least for the next year.
I have nothing to worry about, though. Preston’s incapable of feeling anything serious for anyone other than himself so there’s no chance of him catching feelings from a booty call and leaving me in the dust.
Pivoting in my seat, I look at him. “I don’t care who you sleep with. We’re only legally married on paper.” I point to my heart. “Not here.”
He holds my gaze for a beat, and I keep my face as impassive as I can. This way he can’t use the opportunity to mistake my possessive feelings for anything more than what they are and use them to manipulate me…or alter our newfound business dynamic.
“First class is boarding.”
Before I can say a word, he stands up and starts walking.
I follow behind him and even though his back is to me, there’s no mistaking the frosty draft coming from his direction. To say I’m ticked off would be an understatement. We’ve only been married for a couple of hours and already I’m growing tired of his stupid games and how he keeps treating me like I’m no different than any other girl he encounters and that my sexuality doesn’t matter to him.
My mind tries to remind me that not focusing on my sexuality and giving me the same treatment as someone who isn’t gay is something I actually appreciate, but I brush it off. Preston knows what he’s doing.
But so do I…and I will never be another notch on his bedpost.
I manage to catch up with him on the passenger boarding bridge. “You have no right to give me an attitude when you’re the one testing me.” I wait for him to react and when he doesn’t, I add, “The jig is up, Holden. I know you wanted me to say yes so you could make fun of me and then gloat about making a lesbian fall for you. Sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m a lot smarter than I look.”
He stops so abruptly the people walking behind us nearly topple over before he backs me into a wall. “No, you’re not. Because if you were, you’d know I’d never do that to you.”
I scan his face for signs that he’s either playing me or joking, but there are none.
He places one hand on the wall beside my head and leans in. “My question wasn’t a trial by fire, angry girl. Not only are you shelling out three million dollars, but you’re saving my ass from being murdered. I figured the least I could do in return was ask if your husband sleeping with other women bothered you and respect your wishes.”
He looks so offended my heart pangs. “I touch you because there are times where I can’t help but think you need basic human contact more than you need your next breath.” My throat constricts as he continues. “And not for nothing, but you told me we need to make your grandmother believe we’re in love. It’s going to look bad, not to mention suspicious as hell if you recoil whenever I go near you, or God forbid kiss you, don’t you think? But don’t worry, now that I know how much my touch bothers you, I won’t do it again.”
Tears well in my eyes as he edges away. “And just so we’re clear—my desire to have sex with you has nothing to do with wanting to attain some kind of street cred or trophy because you’re a lesbian. You’re not a goddamn conquest to me. You’re Kit.”
He says my name like it’s the most important word in the whole wide world.
And when he walks away…he takes a part of me with him. A piece of me that only he understands. A piece that belongs to him and only him.
He wasn’t wrong when he said there are times where he can sense I need human contact more than I need air.
There are days I crave it so bad it brings me to my knees.
My parents were huggers, they were constantly giving me affection and drowning me in every ounce of their love, but when they died…they took all their love with them.
When they died…all that was left behind was a heart full of memories. An empty shell of who I used to be.
The person I never got a chance to be because I was robbed.
I was no longer Kit, the happy little girl with the best parents anyone could ask for.
My identity became Kit Bishop…orphan. Hollow. Alone. Abandoned. The rich girl with the dead parents. Along with any other labels people tossed at me. Lesbian. Dyke. Freak.
I miss being Kit. Just Kit. The Kit that existed before my world was unjustly turned upside down.