Beneath These Scars

by Meghan March

  “I’ll be back.”

  Jerome’s chuckle followed me out of the kitchen. “Finally, one who runs away from you, instead of throwing herself at you.”

  Funny.

  Except Jerome didn’t realize this wasn’t the first time she’d run from me, and it was a habit that was starting to piss me off.

  I yanked open the door and walked down the front path to the driveway. Yve was tugging on the gate and feeling around for the latch.

  “You have somewhere pressing to be this morning, Yve?”

  She turned and squared her shoulders, a pose that seemed to be her go-to when facing me. “Didn’t want to overstay my welcome.”

  “Or say hello or maybe ask for a ride?”

  “I don’t need a ride. I can walk.”

  “And you wouldn’t need to walk if you’d just asked.”

  Her chin went up. It was a gesture I was beginning to know well.

  “What was I going to do? Knock on the door to your bedroom this morning? I don’t think so.” Her stance softened when she added, “I do appreciate the hospitality, though. I’m just . . . I need to be on my way.”

  I studied her flushed cheeks. “How many times did you think about that door last night and begging me for round two?”

  Her eyes widened and her spine straightened again. “I didn’t. At all.”

  I stepped forward and lifted my hand—slowly—to grasp a lock of her hair between my thumb and index finger. “Little liar.”

  “You wish.”

  “You’re right—I do. Because if you’d come to me like I’d wanted, it would’ve been your lips wrapped around my cock instead of my hand. I will fuck you again. It was too damn good to let you walk away.” I slid my hand into her hair and cupped the back of her head. “I spent all night wondering if you taste as good as I think you will.”

  Yve’s mouth dropped open into a little O, and once again color stained her cheeks. She blushed so easily, and it pushed me to shock her further. It also cemented my earlier decision.

  I would have her again, and I always got what I wanted. I just wondered how hard she’d make me chase.

  Yve’s mouth snapped shut and her eyes narrowed. “Not gonna happen, Titan. Never.” She enunciated both syllables of never, and I couldn’t help but grin.

  “Ahh, Yve.” I released my grip and lowered my hand to skim down her body to her hip. She immediately took a step back, but was trapped by the fence.

  That’s right, sweetheart, nowhere to run now.

  “You’re telling me no, but every ounce of your body language is screaming at me to pin you to this gate and fuck you right here. It just makes me more dead set on having you again.”

  “Never,” she whispered again.

  I leaned down, bringing my face close to hers. “Lie to me all you want. I felt how hard you came in the kitchen and how fast I brought you to the edge in the bedroom. You can’t make me believe you aren’t dying to let go like that again.”

  “You don’t know a damn thing about me, including what I want.”

  “Lying to yourself is pointless, Yve.”

  I squeezed her hip before sliding my hand down her thigh until I hit bare skin. She didn’t stop me—didn’t do anything but pin me with that challenging stare—as I slipped underneath her skirt and retraced my path until I hit . . . more bare skin.

  I bit back a groan as I cupped her naked ass. “You’re so goddamn sexy, and if I were inclined to let another man see you, I’d take you right here up against this fence.”

  Yve’s nostrils flared, and her throat bobbed as she swallowed. She said nothing, but her actions spoke louder. She pressed her ass into my hand.

  I stared into her tawny eyes as I released my grip and skimmed my palm around to her front and covered her pussy. “You’re so fucking wet for me. Again.”

  “I can’t help it that my body wants you. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna give in.”

  I smiled, feeling like a class-A predator. “You won’t be able to resist, so why fight it?”

  “Because you’re a prick.”

  I laughed. “I’ve never been so entertained to be insulted by someone.” I shifted my fingers so one covered her clit and pressed. When Yve sucked in a harsh breath, I slid one finger inside her. “And I still want to make you come, even after that. Are you going to let me? Or are you going to keep lying to us both?”

  Yve’s hands shot out and shoved hard against my shoulders. I released my hold on her instantly and stepped away, hands raised.

  “Fine. Fight it. But you know where I’ll be when you decide you want more.”

  “I won’t.”

  “That’s one of us then.” I brought my hand to my face and sucked my fingers into my mouth. Sweet, tangy Yve. Fucking perfection. “And for the record, you taste amazing.”

  Her mouth dropped open, and I turned toward the house. “If you want breakfast before I give you a ride to get your car, you can come back inside.”

  “Wait, my car’s done?”

  I knew that little nugget of information would get her attention. “It is. I’ll take you to get it after breakfast.”

  “Just like that. You expect me to sit down and eat with you just like that? After you . . . you . . .”

  I glanced behind me as I pulled the front door open, pleased to see that Yve was right on my heels. “After I copped a feel, figured out you weren’t wearing panties, fingered you, and tasted your pussy? Yes.”

  Yve slowed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re a freak show. That’s all I’ve got.”

  “I’m not the one going commando under a skirt.”

  “Shut up. I didn’t have any clean underwear.”

  “I’m not complaining. Now, I believe you know your way to the kitchen.”

  Yve strutted ahead of me, her head held high while I hung back, watching her go.

  She’d be back for more. I was confident of that.

  WHEN I WALKED BACK INTO the kitchen, I didn’t expect to see a tall, thin man with a shiny bald head standing in front of the stove. He turned when I walked through the door, a big smile on his face.

  “And here’s the mysterious lady who had Lucas digging through my kitchen last night.” He stepped away from the stove to hold out a hand. “I’m Jerome. I’m the master of all you survey, including Mr. Titan.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Does he know that?”

  I felt Titan’s presence behind me without him touching me. And surprisingly—even after everything that had just happened—it didn’t make me jumpy.

  “He knows,” Titan said. “He just lets Jerome continue his delusions. Or maybe I’m the one who’s delusional,” he added, his lips altogether too close to my ear for comfort. I had a feeling the man saw me as a challenge, and I needed to put that out of his head.

  Jerome’s faded blue eyes lit with a spark. “As they say, we’re all mad here.”

  “Then I guess I fit in better than I thought.” Because I’ve got crazy down to a science, I added to myself. That was the only explanation I had for not elbowing Titan in the gut right now.

  Jerome’s gaze scanned my attire. “I think you’ll fit in just fine, Miss . . .”

  “Santos. Yvonne Santos.”

  “It’s a pleasure. Now, I’m making omelets for breakfast, if that suits your fancy. If not, I also make a mean crepe or a Belgian waffle.”

  “An omelet sounds lovely. Thank you.”

  While Jerome confirmed my preferences, I stepped to the side, needing to get the heat of Lucas Titan away from my back. I wouldn’t give in. I needed to get back on solid ground. It didn’t help that I glanced down at his flat stomach covered by a crisp white dress shirt.

  “How do you not have an enormous gut having someone cook for you all the time?”

  His tanned hand dropped to span across what I could picture as being a rigid six-pack. What the hell, imagination? Seriously? Stop. You’re not helping.

  “I swim. And run. And now I punch people.”

  J
erome’s head swung around. “You mean you punch pads, Lucas. We don’t punch people in this house.”

  Hearing Titan being taken to task like he was a five-year-old was enough to make me think that Jerome was right; they were all mad here.

  The moment was broken by the buzz of technology. Titan dropped his hand from his shirt to reach into the pocket of his suit pants and withdraw a phone. He looked at the screen.

  “Excuse me. I have to take this.” His eyes lingered on mine for a moment. “Don’t leave.”

  “Since you’re apparently my ride, I don’t think I have a choice.”

  “Good.”

  And then he was gone. My gaze dropped to his ass as he walked away. Hot. Damn.

  Stop it, Yve.

  “So, Ms. Santos, tell me about yourself.”

  I turned to Jerome to find a smile playing around the corners of his mouth, as he’d clearly been following the direction of my gaze. This is embarrassing.

  “Not much to tell,” I replied, hoping my cheeks weren’t stained with my overactive blush. It was a trait I wished I could eliminate.

  “Why do I think that’s complete and utter bull?”

  Well, now. We had a straight shooter on our hands.

  “What do you want to know?” I asked.

  “How’d you find yourself sleeping in this house last night?”

  I glanced at the kitchen counter. That hadn’t been sleeping. That had been . . .

  I shook off the memory because here it was—the protective, stay away from him because he’s class and you’re trash speech. Not a first for me. It had just been a while.

  “Levi offered me a place to stay when I had some trouble at my apartment.” I held back the rest of the words that wanted to bubble forward. The ones that would assure him I had no designs on Titan, or his ridiculous number of dollars.

  “He’s a good boy. Good heart.” Jerome’s gaze narrowed further, and I could swear his thoughts were being projected into the air in front of his head. Something along the lines of You aren’t going to get the money that way either, girl.

  “Levi works for me. At Dirty Dog.”

  Jerome’s skeptical expression morphed into confusion and then something altogether unexpected. Surprise and warmth radiated from him as he said, “You’re Yve.”

  “Yeah, that’s me.”

  “I didn’t put it together. Young Levi has talked about you since he started at the store. You’re the one with the keen eye for fashion and a bargain. And you were also the one who sold him a pair of impossible-to-find Chanel enamel earrings that matched the ones my sister lost thirty years ago. According to Levi, you were going to keep them for yourself and he begged just enough for you to concede and sell them. Thank you for that.”

  I knew exactly what he was talking about. They’d been mint green, enamel flowers with the little Chanel logo on one petal. Cute as hell. I’d gotten them for a steal, and was just about to put them on when Levi had started gushing about a woman he knew who’d lost the pair her husband had given her after the Korean War. The husband was dead, and she’d worn the earrings in their engagement photos.

  Jerome gave me huge smile. “You made me the best brother on the face of the planet with those earrings. She cried rivers when I gave them to her.”

  “I’m glad she enjoyed them.”

  Obviously they were much more sentimental to her than to me, so I didn’t mind giving them up. I was a sucker for a story like that; God knew I didn’t have enough of them in my family. Our stories mostly went along the lines of I didn’t really have skills to get a job other than fucking a man, so I did that instead. Now he buys me pretty things.

  If Jerome only knew the illustrious line of mistresses I’d come from, he’d probably toss me right back out that door because he’d think for sure I was trying to get my hooks into Titan.

  He’d be dead wrong. I wasn’t sinking my hooks into any man. Except maybe that banker I planned to meet with. Him I would corner and cajole until I got the loan I needed. Because Yve Santos wasn’t going to earn her dreams on her back. No. She’d earn them on the heels of stilettos while dressed in a power suit.

  Which were in my apartment. That someone had been inside. And maybe that someone had been Jay. Shit.

  I needed to woman up and go home and call a locksmith. And that was exactly what I’d do. After work. And maybe I’d work late. Because . . . that’s what a good manager did.

  “Ms. Santos, your omelet.” Jerome slid a steaming plate in front of me.

  Yum. An excellent way to take my mind off the things I couldn’t control.

  Speaking of which. “Should I wait for . . . uh . . . Mr. Titan?”

  Jerome’s kind smile seemed perfectly at home on his face. “You can call him Lucas, my dear. And there’s no need. Who knows how long he’ll be?”

  Before I lifted the first bite to my mouth, I stopped. “Aren’t you going to join me?”

  He looked marginally surprised, but smiled. “Thank you, but I’ve had my steel-cut oats and coffee already.”

  It was awkward to dig in while he stood and watched, and I hesitated. As if he felt my discomfort, he turned, poured two cups of coffee, and joined me at the kitchen island.

  “So, tell me more about this Dirty Dog of yours.”

  I DROVE AWAY FROM THE repair shop and told myself not to look in the rearview mirror at the woman I couldn’t think about without getting hard. Yve was sexy, headstrong, and had a body that could stop traffic.

  Sure, I’d been attracted in an academic sense to Vanessa Frost, even though it made me sound like a dick to admit it. She’d been the perfect Southern belle, all blond and curvy with a perfect pedigree.

  The upper crust of New Orleans society was a closed group I hadn’t been able to break into on my own. I’d needed a leg up, and blackmailing Vanessa to get me into events that would help me solidify my contacts had been an effective but assholish move. A few more events and maybe I would have been prepared for the open-ended favor that Johnson Haines wanted. As it was, his request pissed me off. I wasn’t the kind of man who would ever willingly let someone else have the upper hand.

  I needed to narrow down my list of pedigreed former debutantes to continue my push to the heart of NOLA’s moneyed and influential families. There was one who had floated to the top, Valentina Noble, daughter of Judge Harold Noble. But I couldn’t find the necessary enthusiasm to make the approach. Valentina was the kind of woman you courted and married, and I had absolutely no desire to go down that path.

  And now my dick was on a hair trigger for Yve Santos. Her last name must have come from the Spanish influence around New Orleans, because she was clearly of Creole descent.

  What the hell was it that made Yve so intriguing? I’d figure it out the next time I had her under me. But for now, I needed to get my head back into business.

  I needed a new plan, and one had already started to form. The lobbyist had left his list of targeted senators, so I had other names to consider. I’d build my own coalition of support for my bill. After all, if you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself.

  Plan firmly in place, I headed to the office, determined to forget about Yve for now . . . and how I’d never be able to look at my kitchen island without picturing her bent over, taking my cock.

  I would have her again. No other alternative was acceptable.

  GIVEN THAT LEVI WOULD BE gone for two weeks, I’d had to resort to a temp agency to send me some help for Dirty Dog. When I arrived at the shop, I automatically assumed the petite woman waiting out front was my temporary employee.

  I smiled in greeting. “Hi, I’m Yve. Are you Jennifer?”

  Her brow furrowed and her head jerked back. “How did you know my name?”

  Oh Lord, they better not have sent me an idiot. “The temp agency gave it to me.”

  Her frown deepened. “What temp agency?”

  Okay, this is getting strange. “The one sending me someone to help out for the next two weeks.
”

  She shook her head. “I’m Jennifer, but I’m not that Jennifer.”

  I pressed my fingers to my temples. Today was going to be a long, rough day. I just had a feeling.

  “I’m sorry for the confusion. The shop isn’t quite open yet. If you’ll give me half an hour, I’ll be ready for you.”

  I needed a few moments to compose myself, along with some time to change into fresh clothes. The royal blue-and-black striped A-line dress I had in mind needed a quick steam before it would be wearable. The black platforms I was wearing would go just fine, and I could borrow jewelry from the display.

  The woman, Jennifer, nodded and said, “I guess that’s fine,” and she walked away.

  I unlocked the door, muttering to myself, “I guess that’s fine.” Yeah, honey, it would be fine because that was when the damn store opened.

  I slipped inside and flipped the lock behind me. Forgetting about her, I switched on the lights and made my way to start on the dress. The monotonous process of steaming allowed my mind to wander back to last night.

  Lucas Titan had seen me naked. We’d had sex on his kitchen counter. He’d left me hanging on the edge of orgasm in the bedroom. And then this morning he’d fingered me in his front yard.

  What the hell had I been thinking? Oh, that’s right, I hadn’t been thinking at all, I’d just been reacting. To his orders. His commands. His arrogance.

  None of those things should turn me on. In fact, given my history, I should have been cringing away and retreating into myself, but—except for the one move that took me by surprise—I’d responded to his advances like a cat in heat.

  There was clearly something wrong with me. I hated that he could get to me like that, make me want like that.

  Stop, Yve. I resolved not to think about him anymore. I had a shop to run, one I needed to figure out how to buy. That was my only priority.

  Finally dressed and ready to kick off the day, I unlocked the door and propped it open invitingly. The woman from earlier was nowhere to be seen, but she’d seemed strangely determined—if showing up a half hour before we opened was any indication—so I expected that she’d be back.