by Lena Black
“Are you going to tell her about her brother?”
“Eventually. Hunt and Liam think I should keep her at a distance until we get everything handled.”
“And what do you think?”
“Maybe they’re right. If Dante thinks he can get to me through one of my friends or family, he won’t hesitate to use them as collateral. Distance isn’t the worst idea. Plus, what good would telling now do? He’s still out there. She’ll want to go to the cops, and Damian wants it handled without them. Honestly, it isn’t even safe for you and my sister to be so close to me. You should probably get away before either of you get hurt.”
I look toward the sea of green grass and manicured landscape, fighting the swell of sadness in my chest.
“Hey,” he says, making me acknowledge him, and swings his legs over the side of the lounge chair to face me. “That’s what he wants. He wants you to bend over for him, give up everything you love because he gets off on it. He wants you miserable and alone and broken. Well, fuck him. Don’t give him what he’s wants. It’s going to take a hell of a lot more than some jealous fuck to get rid me and your sister. We aren’t going anywhere, Ellie.”
“I don’t know what I would do if he hurt her, Chase.”
“Don’t worry about her. I’ll protect her with my life if it came down to it. We aren’t going to abandon you when you need us most.”
In a blink, I’m on my knees, in his arms. Mine are constricted around his neck.
“You’re my rock, Cahill. You always have been.”
“I always will be.” He lies his cheek atop my head, pressed into his chest. “I’ll always watch out for you.” After a moment or two, he clears his throat in that way men do when things get too emotional for them. “Enough of this heavy stuff.”
I pull away, my tears now dried out tracks streaking my face. “You’re right,” I agree. “It’s such a nice day, there’s no point in hanging around here. Let’s go for a drive.”
He smiles broadly. “In Scarlett?”
“Yup.”
“Awesome.” He slaps his thighs and then jumps up. “I’ll drive.”
I roll my eyes and smirk at him.
“Sure. Why the hell not?”
We drove till we hit the ocean and continued North to a nice sandy piece of beach, parking and walking barefoot along the shore. We chat and catch up on everything we’ve been wanting to say for so long.
I tell him about things with Damian, Dante, Sloan. He tells me about the wedding and how it all came to be.
It was just a nice afternoon of being the old Ellie and Chase. Even though he comes around enough, I’ve missed the friendship we once had, so strong, always together.
Now, he seems to spend most of his time with Maya or Hunt. They’ve become very close in such a short time. It still shocks the hell out of me, watching them get along as if there had never been any strife between them at all. But it’s just so nice that stressful time is behind us. Especially with all the other things we have to worry about these days. Looking back, it all seemed so petty knowing now what was lurking just around the bend.
A few hours later, we drive back to the estate, feeling relaxed and happy.
When we make it back, Hunt’s car is parked out front.
I didn’t expect him until around dinner time.
As Chase and I are exiting Scar, he comes bolting out of the front entrance and makes a beeline straight for me.
“Where have you been?” he asks, snatching me up into his arms. “You had me scared to fucking death.”
I’m confused as hell.
“What are you talking about? I was with Chase down at the beach.”
He holds me out at arm’s length. “Where is your cellphone, Gabrielle?”
Oh shit.
“I guess I forgot it.”
Chase walks over to us.
“Hey, I’m sorry, man. I just wanted to drive Scarlett. We must have forgotten our phones when we left.”
“You should have at least texted me before you left, Cahill. You know how dangerous it is for her right now.”
“Can you please stop talking about me as if I’m not here?”
I tug myself out of Hunt’s hold and trudge back into the house, Damian and Chase hissing at each other in hushed tones behind me.
Even though my mistake wasn’t intentional, this isn’t the last I’ll hear of this. I can’t even blame him for being upset…not fully anyway. We are dealing with a psychopath after all. But does that mean I’m a prisoner? Should I willing allow them to lock me away in my ivory tower? If Hunt had his way, I’d never leave the Artemis. He’d place the National Guard around the building if he could. But a person can’t live their life that way. And if I waited until we catch Dante, I may never have a life again.
Feeling drained, I head to my bedroom on the second floor. I need a moment to shut my eyes and think. Once inside the safety of my room, I fall back on the bed, arms spread out like a bird’s wings. I sigh when my body settles into the softness of the pillow top mattress.
But my peace is short-lived when the door opens and Damian enters.
“Most people would understand when someone walks away, it’s because they need time alone.”
I elevate myself onto my elbows.
He shuts the door and watches me with those intense eyes of green. I gawk at him, waiting for his next move. Slowly, he walks across the room to me on the bed, towering over me with a menacing smirk crooking his mouth. He leans in, his hands finding the waist of my pants, and his masculine fingers curling under the band. With a swift motion, they’re crumpled on the floor at the foot of my childhood bed, and I’m on my back.
“You’ve stopped wearing your panties.”
“I figure it’s easier than you ripping them off whenever you take me.”
“Smart girl,” my delicious husband praises.
He inserts his knee between mine and nudges them apart, crawling into their supple embrace, his hulking body overshadowing me. Teasing my lips with his, he clutches my wrist and pins it above my head, repeating with the other, binding them together with his large hand. His teeth bite into my bottom lip, tugging on it until it hurts so good. I moan and writhe beneath him, begging for satisfaction. He heeds my pleas, shoving his free hand between us, his skilled fingers breaking the seal of my aching lips.
“Is this what you want, Gabrielle? You want me to finger this exquisite pussy of yours?”
His fingertips flick my clit, driving me hard and fast.
“Holy fuck!” I cry, completely overtaken by the intense sensation of his rapid assault. My natural reflexes kick in, my body rejecting the flood of pleasure ripping through it. I tug my hands, squirming under his hold. My legs struggle to shut, but his hips keep them spread open wide, rendering me completely vulnerable to his will.
“Don’t fight the pleasure, angel. It’ll only make it worse.”
He winds me up like a music box, every inch of my body fixated on the wild rhythm against my clit. A finger disappears deep inside my pussy, working my G-spot with mastered strokes.
My muscles tighten, and my toes curl.
“I know things have been different between us,” he whispers into my ear, kissing the lobe with a tender touch, his warm breath brushing the hypersensitive skin, “and that’s led to my slipping in certain departments.” I grind into him, my body reaching for his. I need him. I want more than a finger. “But never forget,” he rips his fingers out, “I’m your Dominant.”
His face inches from mine, he sticks his fingers in his mouth, sucking me off.
“You were punishing me?” I ask as he releases me and crawls out from between my legs. He stands at the end of the bed, fixing his hair and adjusting his collar.
“You call it punishment. I call it another form of communicating my disappointment in you. Don’t you understand you punish me every time you make it impossible for me to get ahold of you, every time you put yourself in danger by making poor choices, every time you f
ight me when it comes to your well-being. It’s not as if I’m acting irrational or keeping you on a leash. I need to know you’re safe. I’ve told you this repeatedly, Gabrielle, and yet you insist on playing with fire. You never seem to consider the consequences of your actions or how they’ll affect you. If I have to figure out new ways to get through to you, I will.”
I flop back on the bed, my arms limp at my sides.
“You’re absolutely right,” I mumble.
Why is it so hard to say that?
Oh, I’m stubborn, right.
“You aren’t going to argue?”
Naturally, I want to, but can I blame him for worrying about me? He only wants the best for me.
“No.” I release a defeated sigh, sitting up. “I would hate if I couldn’t get ahold of you. I’d probably assume the worst as well. Dante is on the loose and a dangerous predator, and until he’s caught, I need to stay vigilant. I never meant to scare you, Damian. It was a mistake. One I won’t make again.”
This seems to disarm him. The cocked-brow expression of bewilderment on his face makes me want to giggle, but I refrain from it.
“Well, I’m glad you see my point.”
“But this couldn’t simply be about my missing a call. Ever since I told you about my luncheon with your exes, you’ve been distant.”
“I’m not pleased with your conniving behind my back, but I understand your intentions were well meant. I also understand you’re curious about my sexual past.”
“What woman isn’t about her man’s exploits?” Shifting onto my knees, I slide my hand south and cup him in my palm, his semi-stiff cock impressive in length and girth. “Maybe I’m interested in how you liked to fuck them.”
I tease his lips with mine, rubbing them up and down, back and forth. He pushes me back onto the bed and climbs between my legs, grinding his erection into my now aching clit. “I’m more concerned in how you like to be fucked.”
“Hard and dirty, Mr. Hunt, with you nine inches deep inside me.”
Running the length of his shaft against the sensitive bud., he asks, “You want my cock, angel?” a cocky smile on his face.
“Yes,” I moan.
“You want to come,” his lips hover over mine, skimming them teasingly, “don’t you?”
“God, yes.” My head tips back as his mouth moves over my jaw and down my neck.
“You’re not getting off so easily, Mrs. Hunt.”
Suddenly, he isn’t there, and I’m left confused and soaked between my thighs.
Fuck.
Chapter Ten
Working It Out
The next day, Hunt leaves early for the city. I decide to drive back in with Maya and Chase later in the evening. With time to kill, my mother, sister, and me drive to San Rafael about ten minutes from Kentfield for lunch and shopping. After they’ve cleaned out half the boutiques in town and ate like birds at an expensive café, I treat them at a chic salon, hair, nails, the works. It’s been forever since we’ve done this, not since the wedding at least. I need it. I’ve been under stress with Dante’s havoc. I suppose, to some degree, I’ve become accustomed to it. Having Damian makes it worth it.
We wait for three chairs to open, me pinned between my mother and Maya while they talk about a new designer or someone. I’m not paying attention. I keep drifting in and out of my head. Elizabeth mentions her charities, which I’m familiar with since many of them are Hunt’s foundations. She goes on about her friends, a trip she’s planning to Paris with girlfriends, and other things going on in her life. I’m happy to hear she’s getting on since my father’s passing. Everything sounds as if it’s getting back to normal. Then she says, “I’ve decided to sell the vineyard.”
“What?” Maya and I ask, hoping we heard her incorrectly amid the noise of hairdryers and salon chatter.
“It’s not a choice I came to lightly.”
“Mother, why?” I inquire, the pain in my voice hard to hide. I used to spend my summers at our Napa vineyard, the vineyard my father loved.
“Well, since your father’s,” she pauses, her voice wavering, “death, I’ve found it difficult to be there without him. Plus, it’s one more financial burden I’d rather not deal with.”
“I thought we’d always have it,” Maya mumbles.
“You girls haven’t been there in years. I hardly stay there anymore. It makes sense to sell it to someone who will take care of it, enjoy it.”
I struggle to wrap my head around the bomb dropped on us. So much has changed in the last year. This was something I never thought would. I thought I’d bring my children there to spend summers. “When are you selling it?”
“I’m putting it on the market in a week.”
“I hate the idea of losing it,” Maya remarks.
“I know,” Elizabeth agrees, “but it’s too hard to keep it.”
“Why are you telling us now?” I inquire, slumping back into my chair.
“Because I need you there this weekend, see if there’s anything you want to keep. Everything else we’ll donate or put away in storage. Plus, I thought you’d bring your husbands, maybe have one last lunch on the veranda, like we used to. It’ll be a nice way to say goodbye to the old place.”
“Yes,” I agree, “it would be.”
It seems pointless to argue with her and ruin the rest of our time together before we head back to our separate lives.
“We’ll be there,” Maya answers, “but I’m not happy about it.”
With the crossing of her arms and a quiet huff, she slouches and pouts like she did when we were kids. It always worked on my parents. They’d cave and give her whatever she wanted. This time she won’t get her way, no matter how much she mopes.
“Hunt,” a young woman with spiked pixie hair calls my name. I rise and follow her toward the back. “So, what are we doin’ today?” she asks.
I sit in the chair and stare into the mirror. With all the changes in my life, I still look and feel like the same girl from college.
“Something new.”
I step off the elevator and into the penthouse, shopping bags in hand. My mother and sister convinced me to buy a few pieces to add to my personal boutique upstairs. I convinced myself it would be alright since Dante and Vanessa destroyed most of the pieces in the closet. Plus, I’d given away many of my unworn clothes to a shelter for women before all this went down. Why not help those who can’t help themselves?
I call out to Hunt, but get no response. It would be easy to determine when he was home if he didn’t have so many cars in the underground garage. I’d know which one was missing without referring to a spreadsheet. I’m glad he isn’t here, though. I wanted to prepare before I expose him to my new look. It was a bit drastic, but I needed a change…an extreme one.
I climb the stairs and walk the hall to our bedroom, setting the bags in the closet. After putting away the new pieces, I make a pile of clothes to be donated on the sitting bench in the center of the room. Once I’ve delved into the depths of my wardrobe, I change out of my jeans and sweater, stripping down to my knickers, ready to slip into the white silk robe Damian loves so much.
“Gabrielle?” Damian’s baffled voice says from the closet doorway. I turn around and take pleasure in the look of shock on his face. “Your hair,” he whispers.
I smirk to myself. This is exactly what I was hoping for. There’s something about shocking this un-shockable man that gives me a tingly rush. But I’m slightly nervous how he’ll react to this transformation. Especially since he’s used to giving the okay first.
“Do you like it?” He stands there, the stunned expression on his face frozen as he silently stares. “I figured this would make it harder for Dante to track me when I’m out and about. Plus, I,” I stutter, suddenly doubting if this was a good idea, “I thought I’d try something new.”
He walks over to me, lifting his hand to my hair, or what’s left of it, twirling the ends between his fingers. I went with a trendy chin-length bob, my wavy strands
giving it a little extra flare. The hairdresser insisted the silvery-blonde was on the cusp of being the next big thing in hair. I was ready for the change. Hunt on the other hand…The well-formed lines of his knockout face are taught. I can’t read him or what’s running though his mind. If it’s written on his face, it’s in invisible ink.
“It’s certainly different,” he remarks.
“You hate it,” I mutter, disappointed, my chin dropping to my chest. He scoops a convincing finger underneath it, lovingly forcing it back upward.
“Never drop your head in shame or embarrassment, angel. You’re stronger than that. And you’re wrong. It’s sophisticated, sexy. I love it.” His finger moves from under my chin to the side of my face, tracing the soft contours of my cheek. “I won’t lie. I was taken aback by the sudden change. Remember, I’m used to having control over the women in my life. I’m still getting used to being with you, a woman who is clearly untamable. But I really do love it.”
“Well,” I enfold my arms around his neck and balance on the balls of my feet, “at least you noticed I altered my hair. I would have been thoroughly pissed if you hadn’t.”
He smiles and takes me in his arms.
“I notice everything about you, Elle.”
“I love that you do.”
“You know,” he leans his strong lips against my ear, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin, “I’m going to enjoy this new look,” nipping at the lobe. “How do you feel about roleplay?”
I giggle at the sensation. His lips move to my neck, working down to the curve. My head tilts to the side. His hand cradles my heavy breast, the nipples hardening until they burn, while the other moves into my hair, tugging my head further. I moan as his mouth moves down the sliver of skin peeking out from between the unbuttoned halves of my blouse.
“God, I’ve missed you, Elle.”
“Damian,” I breathe, unable to verbalize much more.
Ping.
Hunt’s cell rudely interrupts.
“Shit,” he hisses, his forehead slumping against my collarbone as I pant violently. “I forgot I scheduled a workout with Kevin, to burn off some of this stress.”